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forzalando · 3 years

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The Perfect Arrangement | George Weasley | Pt. 2

Pairing: George Weasley x F!Reader AU: Bridgerton!AU Word Count: 2.2k Warnings: Bridgerton spoilers, a gross man stepping into your personal space, definitely not historically accurate bc i never mention chaperones

Summary: As a woman in the early 19th century, you’ve been told all your life that marriage should be your ultimate goal, however, you do not share that sentiment. When the insufferable George Weasley devises a plan that may solve both your problems, how can you say no?

A/N: woohoo, part 2 is here!! not a whole lot of drama/interaction between George and the reader but some necessary developments. plus! Eloise! my favorite lady! as always, thank you so much for reading💛

“George, everyone is staring at us,” you whispered as you took his arm.

“Well, we are the most attractive couple promenading this morning, don’t you think?”

You stifled a laugh; partly because you didn’t want to draw more attention to yourself and partly because George’s ego was large enough without knowing you thought he was funny.

“Should I glare at the men staring at you? Let them know that they don’t have even an ounce of a chance?” George asked.

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt,” you mused. “However, I don’t know how your sister would feel if every eligible man in the ton held disdain for her older brother.”

“Oh, please,” George scoffed. “You know as well as I do that Ginny is marrying Harry, it’s just a matter of time.”

You hummed in agreement, though slightly distracted by the way George held you so close. It was unnerving how comfortable you felt with him; most men had always made you uncomfortable, but never George. Even though he was incorrigible, garish, and irritatingly handsome, he never made you feel anything but at ease.

“Lord Beverly is approaching us,” George whispered, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Quick, say something funny and make me laugh, maybe he will turn around.”

“I’m not your jester, nor can I make you laugh on command. Comedy is derived from opportunity, and here, I have none, just your orders.”

“Now we’re quarreling, he’s walking even faster.”

“That’s your fault for acting like my sense of humor is at your beck and call!”

You turned sharply to face him; a scowl settled on your face and nostrils flaring. He was looking at you the same, with his eyes narrowed and a slight blush on his cheeks, whether it was from the summer heat or anger you couldn’t be sure. George opened his mouth to speak again, when someone interrupted him.

“Is this why you wouldn’t give me the honor of a dance at the Danbury ball, Miss Y/L/N?”

Lord Beverly was stood directly in your path, his hands clasped behind his back and a smarmy smile on his face. He may have been handsome, but Philip Beverly was as horrid as men came.

“I do apologize, Lord Beverly,” you retorted, sickly sweet. “Mr. Weasley has been the object of my affections for quite some time now and I simply could not bring myself to imagine myself with anyone but him all night.”

You looked up at George and smiled, staring into the warmth of his eyes and heaving a dramatic sigh; one you hoped was the sigh of a woman in love.

“Yes, I suppose I understand your trepidation,” Lord Beverly scowled. “However, I have been speaking with your father this morning and I believe Mr. Weasley has not yet proposed, is that correct? Lord Y/L/N made it quite clear he has not received any mentions of a proposal.”

“Why, yes, of course he hasn’t. He has barely begun courting me, the season only began a week or so ago.”

“You’ve known each other for years, surely you must know by now if you are to propose, Mr. Weasley?”

George looked to you for guidance, just as confused as you at the interrogation taking place between the two of you and Beverly.

“As Miss Y/L/N said before, we’ve barely begun courting. I have always had the intention of marrying her, ever since we were children, but I wanted to make sure we are comfortable as partners, not just friends.”

“I am quite wealthy, you know,” Beverly reminded. “My family has considerably higher standing than the Weasley’s and there is so much more I could offer you than he can, Y/N.”

Lord Beverly took a step towards you, completely ignoring George standing beside you, but before you could ask him to step away, George thrust himself in between the two of you.

“If you ever so much as look at my future wife again, I assure you that you will see just how much influence my family has, Lord Beverly,” George spat. “You flaunt your money, your perceived power, when I have friends in much higher places than you could ever dare to dream.”

Philip backed away; his ever present smirk still adorning his face but he could not hide the glint of fear in his eyes.

“Well, I suppose I’ll be on my way,” Beverly grimaced.

“Yes, you shall,” George responded with a glare that would frighten even the most courageous of men.

As soon as Lord Beverly was out of earshot, you breathed out deeply. There was something about that man that made your skin crawl, more so than the other slimy, rich men of the ton.

You laughed quietly, and kept laughing until you were in a fit of giggles, prompting George to look at you quizzically.

“Y/N, what could possibly be so funny about being accosted by that scum?”

“I’m not entirely sure, I just find it amusing how intimidating you can be when you really try. You should be an actor, you know.”

“An actor? Why do you think so?”

“You played the part of a jealous lover far better than I ever could. One might believe you’re actually in love with me,” you snickered.

If you had looked at George for even a moment after your joke, you would have seen the hurt expression flash across his face. He tried to keep it at bay, but the reminder of the nature of your relationship ate at him far more than he imagined.

He had convinced himself that in time, your feelings for him would grow; how could they not when he was so sure that you were soulmates? Destined to be together for the rest of your lives? In doing so, he never stopped to think of the consequences of his actions if you were to never return his affections.

George began to wonder if his heart could bear it, because every time he looked at you and saw your beautiful smile, he felt it breaking piece by piece.

“What do you say to that, Weasley?” you asked with a smile, breaking George from his thoughts.

“I’m…I’m sorry, I was distracted, what were you saying?”

“Pay attention, Georgie, otherwise you might lose your only current prospect for marriage.”

“You’re my only prospect, period, not just current,” he chuckled.

For a moment, you allowed yourself to believe the weight behind his words was truthful, that your courtship was real and true. You’d convinced yourself for years that you held George Weasley in no higher regard than an acquaintance, but at any given moment where you were in the same room you always found your way to each other; bantering back and forth that, to an outsider, must have looked like disdain, but in your heart you knew that you held him at arm’s length to keep yourself from falling.

It had only been a week since the Danbury ball, but spending every day in secret with George (the two of you weren’t quite ready to announce to the public yet until today) and getting to know him as more than just a friend had opened your heart to frightening feelings that you shoved aside.

George Weasley had always wanted to marry for love, an ideal that you never allowed yourself to believe in and now, he was to marry you only because the true object of his affection was not an option.

“Yes, I suppose you’re right. Does that…does that bother you? Do you have any regrets about what you asked me?”

“I’m not sure yet,” George whispered, dropping your hand that he had held so tightly the entire morning.

No, you simply couldn’t allow yourself to entertain the foolish fantasy of feelings, not when you had the sole responsibility of taking care of your own heart.

“Walk me home, please, Mr. Weasley.”

“As you wish, Miss Y/L/N.”

“Y/N Y/L/N,” cried a familiar voice from across the street.

You turned with a smile to see Eloise making her way towards you, her journal in hand as always.

“Thank you for walking me home, George, you can be on your way. I’ll see you tomorrow evening for the Norrington soiree, correct?”

“I wouldn’t miss it. Have a lovely day, Miss Y/L/N.”

He quickly raised your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. Even though you were cross with him, you smiled shyly at the feeling of his lips on your hand, though it slowly faded away as you realized it was all a show for the audience on the street.

As Eloise hurried to you, you couldn’t help but watch George’s back as he walked down the cobblestones towards his own home.

“How dare you? I had to hear from gossiping mother hens this morning that George Weasley is formally courting you? Not only that, but he plans to propose to you? What happened to never marrying? Does your family know? The whole ton has been talking about it!”

“I – I don’t understand, this morning was our first outing together, I’ve just been spending time with him at his family’s home. How could anyone possibly know – ”

You paused, remembering your conversation with Lord Beverly earlier that morning.

“Oh, for goodness sake. Lord Beverly went to my father this morning while I was out with George, asking about proposing to me.”

“LORD BEVERLY?” Eloise shouted, interrupting your explanation.

“Yes, I know. A horrid man, but I don’t believe he will be bothering me any longer. George practically had him running away in fear but, as I was saying, Lord Beverly went to my father and of course I haven’t told my parents of our marriage plans yet, we’ve only just begun courting, so Papa told Beverly that I have no prospects. He approached George and I on our promenade, and practically interrogated us! One thing led to another and George expressed his desire to propose and, well, here we are. Beverly must have opened his mouth and now everyone in town knows.”

Eloise stared at you blankly, her wide eyes blinking rapidly trying to process all that you had just told her.

“Are you in love with George?”

“It appears so…”

You hated lying to her, but you and George hadn’t discussed if you would ever tell anyone and who you trusted to tell in the first place.

“Well, it’s about time!” Eloise yelled in your ear.

“I – excuse me?”

“Oh, you can’t possibly tell me you’ve been oblivious to his feelings all these years. And your own! It’s been painful watching you drone on and on about how you’ll never marry when he’s been right in front of you since we were children.”

“Eloise, you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“What do you mean, he’s courting you and is planning to propose, what is there to misunderstand?”

“Quite a lot, if I’m being honest.”

Eloise saw the guilty look on your face and immediately her jaw dropped, memories of her sister and the Duke clouding her thoughts.

“Of all the lousy schemes to get yourself involved in, Y/N, I cannot believe you. It’s all a ruse?! Is this a common theme with the prized debutante of the season, am I missing something?”

“Quiet yourself, Eloise! It’s quite simple, George cannot marry the woman he loves and I do not wish to marry. We get along fairly well and have things in common. We figured it would be to both of our advantages if we married each other and were able to live our lives as we please without people breathing down our necks about marriage.”

“You are truly oblivious, Y/N.”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“George Weasley has loved you for years, I didn’t think it was a secret. The only issue is that you’re too stubborn to look past this aversion to happiness you’ve been harboring.”

“Education makes me happy. Traveling the world would make me happy. My own wants and desires make me happy. I don’t need a man or love to be happy, I thought you of all people would understand, Eloise.”

“I do understand, and because I do, doesn’t that make what I say all the more believable?”

Your reply got caught in your throat, the weight of Eloise’s words left a heavy feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“I see the way you look at him, Y/N,” she continued. “You’ve convinced yourself so greatly that there isn’t a man who will love you for who you are that you’re blind to your own affections and the fact that there is a man who loves you exactly as you stand before me. You’re just afraid. I never thought I would call you a coward – ”

“That is quite enough, Eloise,” you snapped.

“I will relish in saying ‘I told you so,” she quipped back.

You watched her turn swiftly and did the same; stalking into the courtyard and up the stairs to your own home, all the while pondering the words you had shared with Eloise.

Secretly, in the depths of your heart where you never dared to venture, you hoped that she was right about George’s feelings for you, and that thought scared you more than anything.

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earths-roots-grow-up · 3 years

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Headcanons on Russia’s and Prussia’s relationship with France.

Russia:

I think that in the XVIII century a large chunk of Europe had a crush on France. French culture was widespread among European courts and the language was being used to communicate in a similar manner English is used today. Frenchness was just very IN at that time.

Those countries included Russia. At that time Peter the Great was westernizing his country, and injecting French-ness into Russian lives was a part of this process - Versailles and the French court impressed Peter immensely when he went to visit France and when he came back home, he began emulating many things he observed in the western country. Language, customs, widespread mirrors everywhere, architecture, gardens. You name it.

High-born Russians would talk to each other in French and give themselves French names. Lets note that French wasn’t the only foreign language that was widespread in Russia, so were others, like German and Latin [mostly used by the academia.

“(...) of all the languages which began to have currency in eighteenth-century Russia, it was French that acquired the greatest social, cultural, and political significance,even if it was not always so widely spoken as German“.

The two next generations of Russians grew up within this Francophile culture and viewed it as something natural, from their perspective it was no longer an exotic fashion, just the way thing always were. Therefore, this was something more than just a fleeting fascination that lasted as long as Peter ruled - and had lingering influence on Russian culture.

“The most important stimulus for the development of French-speaking in Russia, though, was the use of French as a court language from around the middle of the reign of Peter’s daughter Elizabeth (1741–61), who had learnt it in childhood from a French lady at her father’s court.“

And so it went on from there: “At the beginning of the nineteenth century, the Russian nobility still preferred French to Russian for everyday use, and were familiar with French authors such as Jean de la Fontaine, George Sand (etc.). The influence of France was equally strong in the area of social and political ideas. Catherine II's interest in the writings of the (french) philosophers of the Enlightenment (...) contributed to the spread of their ideas in Russia during the eighteenth century.” and “ During the nineteenth century, travel in France was considered a form of cultural and intellectual apprenticeship. “.

(source) So the interest in French ideas and culture was strong in the second half of the XVIII century and in the XIX century.

So in other words, Russia had a crush on France - it was a total puppy love mostly based on superficial things, like aesthetic, nice smells and pretty, elegant European opulence but most of all: France was the ideal of what Russia was trying to become, the epicenter of European-ness, the “civilization” and Ivan was in the middle of this lowkey cultural revolution in which he was trying to re-invent himself as a modern, “European” country. So I think this crush was very much one of those "I wanna BE YOU" types of crushes, he was head over heels for what France represented - that’s why this hit so hard.

There was some more personal stuff there too, like France's eloquence, his literature and philosophy. Enter a lot of perfumed love letters! Even when the crush slowly withered away Russia still felt - and feels - strong admiration for France and honestly enjoys his culture a lot.

France himself enjoyed the crush but wasn't really that interested in reciprocating - as mentioned above, large chunk of Europe was also crushing on him due to his culture just being in fashion, so it's not like Russia himself was standing out. But they did become friends and still have good personal relations with each other. They have a lot of passions in common, such as ballet, art, music, opera, Romanticism etc, so they still enjoy talking about this stuff together. It’s not a Deep friendship where they trust each other, don’t be fooled, they don’t trust one another at all! But they do like hanging out.

I also HC that the way both French and German were important in XVIII century Russia (as cited above: French with greater cultural significance and German more widespread) is representative of him catching feelings for both France and Prussia at this time, tho one of those wasn't just a crush.

Prussia:

My non-canon-approved hot take here is that I don't think him and France were ever friends. The exact opposite of that even.

It's true that Frederick the Great also had this hard-on for the French, and in effect Prussia speaks and writes excellent French. But after Frederick William II took over the throne, he took back all those Francophile preferences and began promoting German literature and language instead - something the educated classes of Prussia were thankful for. So because Russia shared his ruler's fascination with France his interest outlasted Peter the Great and became a more prevalent part of Russian culture for a long time, while Prussia never shared Fredrick’s fascination and therefore it got overturned as soon as the new king sat on the throne.

And that makes sense, bc in general Germans and French weren't very friendly with each other during their history. German- French enmity, also called the hereditary enmity, is an idea introduced in the XIX century, and it states that those two forces are natural enemies due to their inherently different goals and incompatible interests. Due tho this they keep bumping against each other throughout the ages. You can see echos of this sentiment it in the Napoleonic Wars, Franco-Prussian War, WW1, the Treaty of Versailles, WW2 etc. France was also the country that stood in the strongest opposition to the German Empire being created, so a big issue for Prussia.

It’s important to mention that this German-French enmity was often used as a propaganda tool for wars and simplified the complex relations between those two groups. Of course it did, even Austrian/Prussian relations weren’t ALWAYS bad, even tho they were called ‘the biggest enemies’ by historians.

It is believed that the enmity ended after WW2 and no longer is a thing. To me that is a pretty great example of Germany taking over the reign and replacing Prussia. Prussian/France relations were bad, but German/France relations are pretty darn good. And it makes sense, because Prussia had different goals than Germany has, and they are very different individuals. I see France and Germany as friends due to their shared work in UE, tho I’m not sure if they would be something more than just work friends.

Anyway, this is Hetalia and not a historical-political deep dive - to me what counts in Hedcanon context is the general feel throughout history: were they generally allies or enemies? Were their interests clashing with one another or were they compatible, most of the time at least? The whole idea behind this “inherited” enmity is that French and German interests were incompatible, so it had to end with a conflict. And they did, many times over. I feel like the importance of the Napoleonic wars especially is often undervalued here - it was a HUGE conflict that would have a lasting impact on their relations, way bigger than the Wars for Austrian Succession, which are often cited as proof of their friendship. But they were an outlier in general Prussian/French relations.

That’s why I think Prussia and France are not, nor ever were friends, they view each other as enemies and dislike each other. Tho during the reign of Old Fritz their relationship was warmer and more amicable than during other periods, considering they actually had similar goals and fought together for a change - mostly because that was convenient for then, not due to some preexisting friendship. But I do like the idea that during this time they had some kind of difficult comradery going for a brief while and there was this fleeting “maybe in another reality we could be friends” vibe.

Due to the bad history, Prussia's dislikes of France can be seen in many small things that irritate him, like he just detests Francis' need to show opulence, his over-the-top rococo aesthetic and cuture-esque fashion sense, hight emotionality drives him bonkers and even the pastel flowery color palettes he often wears irk him. And don’t even get his started on the Revolutions! He’ll talk your ear off.

Tl’Dr: So Prussia and France don't like each other and are generally bitchy and passive-aggressive with one another. Russia and France are friendly and good acquaintances, while not exactly close. Russia just likes him - he still admires a lot of things about French culture, enjoys the language, cuisine, architecture, fashion etc, and used to have a crush on him.

Rusprus take:

Prussia in a confident, self-assured person, but when it comes to France, he can be surprisingly self-conscious. He still remembers that crush Russia used to have on him and WHY he had it - because of many characteristics that France possesses, but Prussia doesn't. Like being romantic and sentimental, sensitive, emotionaly open, appreciative of beauty, artsy etc. Sometimes Russia finds that cute and endearing, bc it makes him feel wanted, but sometimes it's just... ridiculous.

APH Prussia: What do you wanna watch tonight, Vanka?

APH Russia: Hm... maybe that movie, Marie Antoinette?

APH Prussia: Ugh OF COURSE you wanna ogle HIM!

APH Russia: W... what.

APH Prussia: France! You wanna ogle that cheese-smelling frog-eater!

APH Russia: What... no! Gilya, Gilyushka, Gilynechka! That's absurd, I just want to watch a pretty period drama!

APH Prussia: Don’t you “Gilynechka“ me! And as if that's not enough...

APH Prussia: She was AUSTRIAN

APH Russia: Omg. Kill me now. When you have almost 1000 years of history together then even picking a Netflix show can be a minefield!

Anyway, they end up watching the movie but Prussia roasts everything in frame :D

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illfoandillfie · 3 years

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uhm if you still need and want a benny boi request: hiking with him and soft sex by the fireplace to warm up 🥺 or in the tent bc it's probably pretty cold ngl

(@queenmylovely)

God you bitches get me. These prompts are wonderful and came in about 30 seconds apart lmao so i hope you like what I did with them!

warnings: smut but its like super somft and fluffy, also a lil bit of arguing

Blurb Advent: Day 16

The trip wasn’t exactly what you’d imagined it would be. Initially you’d been planning to get away during Summer, maybe head to the beach for a couple of weeks, spend your time relaxing in the sun, hitting the waves. But the timing never quite worked out and the whole idea of going away was put on hold until it had cooled down again. And of course, once it became clear the trip would be in winter, you had to stop thinking of the beach and find somewhere new to go. Luckily (you supposed) a family friend of Ben’s had a cabin in the woods that he was happy to let you use. You weren’t quite as thrilled with it as you would have been a little beach side cottage, but you really just wanted some time for you and Ben without other distractions and he wanted to get out of the city. And neither of you wanted to wait another six months for the break. So the arrangements were made and early on a Friday morning you grumbled your way out of bed and into the warmest clothes you owned, packing everything into the car, ready to head off on your holiday.

The cabin was cute, surrounded by tall trees and the promise of picturesque views. A generator had been installed a few years previous to allow access to electricity and there was a large rain tank to collect water for all the plumbing systems. You had been warned that in dryer weather you may need to seek out the nearby well to collect water for drinking and cooking. There’d been a lot of rain in the previous month so you didn’t think you’d need to worry about it but, all the same, you kept it in mind, adding a few metal water bottles to your essential supplies (which included things like food, the makings of tea and coffee, toothpaste and condoms). On top of the essentials you also made sure to pack Ben’s guitar and your travel paint set in the hopes that the seclusion and nature would inspire you both.

The first day was mostly spent getting there and unpacking. When you arrived, you had to carry all your gear up a short incline that the car couldn’t access but it was worth it when you saw the scene. It was gorgeous, the surrounding woods a little damp with fresh rainfall, the cabin looking cozy and warm and perfect for a romantic getaway. You spent the morning putting food in the fridge and poking around the cabin, getting the doors and windows open to let in some air and natural light. In the afternoon you checked out the store of firewood and decided to collect some more so that it would have time to dry out under cover before you needed it. Together, bundled up in warm coats and gloves, you walked around the immediate area, collecting any logs that looked large enough as well as smaller sticks for kindling. In the evening you made dinner together and settled in for a night on the couch, wrapped in as many blankets as you could get your hands on. Things had been so busy lately you almost didn’t know what to do with yourself now that you were taking a break from it all. But the chaos you’d been living in had meant you didn’t get much of a chance to talk to Ben properly so that was what you did. Snuggled up on the couch and talked, finally able to just be together.

The next day Ben suggested you check out the surrounding area, follow the hiking trail up the hill and see what was out there. There were practical reasons like finding the well just in case you did need it, but mostly it was just for fun. You each filled a backpack with a water bottle and some food as well as a grabbing a small first aid kit, some bug spray to combat the mosquitos you’d noticed the night before, and your paints. Ben slung his guitar over his back and you set off. The walk itself was fine though there were a few steep places on the trail. Ben used them as an excuse to hold your hand, getting a few steps higher and then offering his to help you follow. It was silly but cute and you found yourself giggling whenever he did it. It was quiet too, which was nice. You didn’t meet any other people on the trail but that meant you could stop and point out creatures that crossed your path or pause to take photos of interesting plants and pretty views you might like to paint later.

At the top of the hill was a little lookout area with a park bench. Since you seemed to have it to yourself you unpacked your bags and ate lunch looking out over the tops of the trees below. As you ate you pulled out your sketchbook and started to draw things you could see, going over some with paints and leaving others as just the outline. Ben pulled out his guitar and found a small spot to lean against a tree and play softly, his eyes closed as he plucked at the strings. It was tranquil and peaceful and perfect. Or nearly perfect. You hadn’t noticed it as much while you were walking but now that you were standing still you realised just how freezing cold it was. For a while you tried to ignore it but eventually you had to speak up.

“Benny? Are you getting cold? My fingers are starting to freeze, maybe we should think about heading back?”

Ben dropped into the seat beside you and grabbed your hands in his, “I’ll warm them up for you.”

“That’s cute,” you smiled, not mentioning how unhelpful of a suggestion it was, “But I’m serious. The walk up here took a while anyway, might be best to start heading back down now, before it starts getting dark and even colder. Plus I don’t like the look of those clouds,” you pointed to a dark patch of sky off in the distance.

Ben eyed the rainclouds and thought for a moment, “Alright, you make a good point. Let’s pack up.”

As quickly as you could you packed everything back into your bags and began to make your way back down the slope. Walking did help warm you up again though you couldn’t help but mention your need to defrost in front of the fire. And your discomfort only got worse as the rain began. The trees protected you a little but not enough and before long your teeth were chattering and your toes felt numb. Ben was just as unhappy, his hair dripping onto his face as he snapped at you to hurry up. He got particularly cranky when you paused to take a photo of the pretty haze the rain had thrown over one of the scenes you’d photographed on your way up, the roof of your cabin just visible through the trees.

“All your fucking complaining and now you want to stop to take pictures? Jesus Christ.”

“Hey, if it wasn’t for me you’d still be sitting up at the fucking lookout twiddling your thumbs.”

“You’re so fucking full of it. And slow! Could you walk a little faster please!” Ben tried to grab your hand and pull you along but you shook him off.

“It’s not my fault my feet feel like ice blocks. I didn’t even want to come out to this stupid cabin.”

“You’re the one who was practically begging for me to take you somewhere.”

“Yeah but not a fucking cabin in the middle of nowhere. This is the start of a horror film Ben. You brought me to a horror film.”

“Y’know this isn’t exactly what I wanted either. I was hoping for something a little more romantic, a little less bitching.”

“Well I think you’ve put paid to that.” You spat back, dropping your eyes to your feet so you could watch the terrain you were walking over, not wanting to slip in case Ben decided to walk ahead.

You were surprised when Ben held his hand out to you, offering his help to get down a particularly uneven patch of the path, but you took it all the same.

“Sorry,” he said softly, keeping his hand tight around yours, “I know this isn’t ideal.”

“It was lovely up until the rain,” you shrugged, “Sorry I stopped before, and that I’ve been winging so much,”

“Hey, you’re allowed to winge, especially when your idiot boyfriend gets you stuck freezing to death in the middle of nowhere,” he squeezed your hand reassuringly, “but maybe he can make it up to you when you get back to the cabin?”

“How?”

“I’m thinking we get the fire going and sit as close to it as we can until we’re warm. I can make us some hot chocolate and then maybe we whip up a curry for dinner? Something really hot.”

You chucked and nodded, “Sounds good. Can I make one request?” “What is it?” “Can we cuddle? While we’re in front of the fire?”

“The cuddling was implied. It’s the most romantic thing I can think of so of course we’re cuddling.”

“You’re not an idiot Ben. And walking in the rain is kind of romantic, especially when there’s a fire to go back to.”

Ben pulled your hand up to his lips, kissing the back of it as you walked.

By the time you got back to the cabin you were damp through, though your shoes felt completely soaked. Ben was true to his word though, peeling off his jacket and bending over the fireplace as he told you to go and get changed. You dug out clean, dry clothes, throwing Ben’s hoodie over the top. You grabbed all the blankets you could and came out to a fire coming to life as Ben hurried off to change. While he was gone you dropped the blankets on the floor, a little back from the fireplace, creating a sort of nest for the two of you.

“You stole my hoodie,” Ben pouted.

“Can’t blame me, it’s so warm and soft and I look cute in it,”

He chucked as he took his place beside you, wrapping his arms around you, “all of that is very true.”

For a while you just sat together, letting the feeling come back to your fingers and toes. Ben asked to see the photos you’d taken, pointing out scenery he thought would make nice artwork, and especially anything you could hang on the walls at home.

“I hope your sketchbook didn’t get too wet”

“I don’t think the rain got into the bags too much. What about your guitar?”

“It should be fine, it’s been in worse weather. Sorry I was short with you before,” he said quietly, his nose bumping your cheek.

You turned your head towards him, “It’s alright. I’m sorry too.”

He kissed you softly, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek.

You sighed against his lips and shifted to better face him, discouraging him from moving away.

Ben kissed you slowly and deeply, as if he intended to just keep kissing you all night. But gradually his hands began to wander too, fingertips lightly tracing patterns over your sides as they slipped further down. You hummed at the touch, mirroring him, trailing your fingers down his chest and stomach. Slowly, he inched the hem of the hoodie higher until he could pull it over your head. You didn’t mind, plenty warm from the fire and Ben’s embrace.

“This okay?” Ben asked between small kisses along the corner of your mouth, his fingers already tugging at your shirt.

“Mmhmm, very,”

He nodded and lifted your shirt over your head, keeping his arms up so you could do the same to him.

He didn’t rush, leisurely following the line of your throat with his lips, humming in response to your whimpers and mewls. You were already wet when he wriggled his hand under the band of your leggings, exacerbating your arousal as he stroked along your slit.

Once he had your pants off he rolled you onto your front, making sure you were comfortable amongst all the blankets, the heat of the fire washing over you. Gently, he hooking his fingers into the top of your underwear, pulling them down your legs, leaving soft kisses on your lower back and arse and thighs.

“Give me two seconds, babe,” he whispered, tugging his own pants off and leaning over to grab one of your backpacks.

“What’re you doing?” you asked, looking over your shoulder at the noise.

“Might have thrown a couple of condoms in here, just in case.”

“In case? In case of what?”

“I don’t know. In case the view made you super horny or we wandered into a fairy ring and ended up kidnapped by pervert fairies. Just, y’know, in case.”

“You’re so stupid,” you laughed, tapping him with your foot as you lay down again, your arms folded under your head.

“I was just preparing for any eventuality.”

“Mmm well, you might want to hurry up and prepare or else I’m gonna fall asleep here. It’s very comfortable,”

“Don’t do that, hang on,” You heard Ben tear at the wrapper and then swear and then tear it again as you laughed into your arms.

“Alright, ready. You still awake,”

“Surprisingly, yes,”

“Good,” his voice was close to your ear as he lay over you, cocooning you in his warmth as he entered you from behind.

You moaned into your arm as he slowly rocked into you, his chest against your back as he braced himself on arms either side of you. There wasn’t much scope for anything fast or hard but it was intimate, his cock pressed against your g-spot so that every slight shift of his hips sent a jolt of pleasure through you.

Ben kissed your shoulder and left his lips there as he mumbled, “feel good?”

“Mmhmm, fucking incredible,”

“Mmm, you feel incredible too.”

You pushed your self up and looked around for Ben. Within seconds he was kissing you again, tongue dragging over your lips as another jolt shot though you and you gasped.

For a while you stayed like that, your movements lazy and slow. But it wasn’t enough to push you over the edge, even with Ben groaning in your ear or sucking at your pulse point.

“I need more Ben,”

“Alright, babe, if I pull out are you good to roll over?”

You nodded, catching him in another kiss to show your appreciation.

Once you were on your back, leaning on your forearms, Ben adjusted his position, his legs falling between yours as he lined himself up once more. He wasn’t much deeper but the angle was different and you felt Ben hit a spot he hadn’t reached before as he leaned over you and attached his lips to your neck again.

“Fuck, Ben,” The fire was still burning, heating your opposite side as you threw your arm around Ben, digging your nails into his back as he gave an experimental thrust.

“This better?” “Yeah. You make me feel so good,”

Ben smiled and lay you back further, so he didn’t have to hold himself up with his arms, instead allowing him to slide one hand between you to softly play with your clit.

You grasped at his back as his hips snapped against yours harder, his fingers constantly rubbing at your clit.

“C’mon, babe, you’re close aren’t you.”

You nodded again, feeling as if you’d lost the ability to form words as your back arched. Everything was warm and comfortable – the fire and the blankets and Ben’s low voice, mumbling encouragement between kisses – and before you fully comprehended it was happening, your orgasm washed over you, pulling Ben’s name from your throat. He mirrored you a few seconds later, groaning your name as he stilled, his forehead falling to meet yours.

Carefully he rolled off you and you shuffled around to lean your head on his chest, still mostly tucked up in your blanket nest.

It was quiet for a moment as you both settled, your breathing falling into sync as you watched the fire and listened to the rain that had only gotten heavier while you were wrapped up in each other.

Suddenly Ben spoke, his tone more than a little braggy, “How’s that for romantic.”

#my writing #my blurbs #smut blurb #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy smut #ben hardy imagine #cant believe you made me yearn so fucking much #but here we are #guess those canada goose pics really fucked us all up huh #ohladymoon #blurb advent 2020

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sunarintoes · 4 years

Text

Boyfriend Headcanons

Includes: Sakusa, Komori, Shirabu, Atsumu

Warnings: none - just pure fluff :) oh wait some swearing!!

✗ you have to be clean!! There’s no two ways about this. Of course you dont have to be super clean freak germaphobe!! (Extra points if you are because cleaning is his passion and he hates germs and he would love to share that with you)

✗ it takes a while for him to become affectionate, he has to ‘get used to your germs’ and all. When you are at home he will love to cuddle with you!! He particularly loves it when you are clean sitting in his lap while watching a movie! Because!! Then he can wrap his arms around you and rest his head on yours!

✗ one of his favourite dates is going shopping together... to the chemist. He likes having you with him as he looks through all the hygiene and sanitary items, often asks you ‘does this smell good’ because baby wants to be clean AND smell good. He will smell like a fresh bouquet if you so wish. Afterwards he’ll take you out to eat and pay for your food as a thank you.

✗ he’s in no way, shape or form fond of PDA. It makes him uncomfortable and he prefers to keep his private life, private. And you completely respect that!! The most he will go is the occasional hand holding or giving you his vbc jacket.

✗ he will make it clear he’s in a relationship though! He doesnt want his fan girls to continue coming on to him so he will tell them bluntly, it probably went something like this: ‘I am in a relationship with Yn. If you have a problem I dont care. Please stop trying to get in with me from here on out and dont touch Yn otherwise I’ll drown you in bleach.’ Wow isnt he just a charmer.

✗ he doesnt mind if you wear a face mask or not, but be prepared: he will refuse to kiss you until you’ve thoroughly washed your face. He does think your face is cute/pretty/handsome/etc so I think he’d prefer to see it.

✗ i don’t think hes one to be jealous or possessive but doesn’t like it if other people ‘contaminate you with germs’ so he’ll most likely stick around you to defend you from ‘germs’ so i guess he’s pretty protective. But not toxic protective!! He likes it when you come to his games and cheer for him!

✗ Komori is the softest ever! He loves you and he loves affection!!!! Bb is kinda clingy but its okay because he’s adorable and you love his hugs! He loves snuggling with you - face to face, while the both of you talk about anything and everything!

✗ he definitely loves it when you come to his games and he always gives you his jacket to wear! After every game when he sees you waiting for him in the foyer he runs up and hugs you.

✗ he lives to see you smile! Komori really loves when you smile! Please smile for him! But don’t fake it! Fake smiles make him sad! If he ever sees you fake a smile (and he can always tell bcz of how much he loves your smile) he will always make time to speak with you or FaceTime you to ask you how you’re going and if you’re okay. He doesn’t like his bb being sad :’)

✗ Komori really likes cute cliche dates! Sometimes you tease him about it but you can’t deny that he always makes them special - even if they’ve been done a million times before. Picnic dates and star gazing dates are a must!

✗ when it comes to PDA, he’s not necessarily against or for it, hes just kinda like eh whatever works in the moment. However!! Holding hands everywhere is a must.

✗ I don’t see him as the type to get jealous and/or possessive. He gives vibes that are full of positivity, so I feel like in a relationship with him he’s very trusting and understanding. However, if someone is flirting with you and making you uncomfortable he will intervene. Unless!! You have it under control, if so then he’ll just come up and stand next to you with a passive aggressive smile directed at the dude. If you don’t have it under control, he will come up and put a hand on your shoulder to reassure you and then he will talk to the guy. He starts off by asking a random question like ‘how’s the weather’ or whatever, and this usually confuses the guy because ‘???? Who’s this dude and why’s he talking to me so friendly’ anywho, he chats the dude’s ears off and the dude ends up leaving.

✗ he cant cook but can make he finest 2min noodles. Eat his noodles. He’ll be happy.

✗ aight here we are, piss hair - my second favourite Miya <3 jk

✗ being real, if youre gonna date atsumu you have to have to be able to take a joke. Please dont be offended. It’s just that he likes to joke around with you and 10/10 will point to something ugly and say ‘that’s you babe.’ He doesn’t do it to be mean!!! No!! He just sucks shit at expressing himself and therefore he teases you to show his affection verbally. He often says ‘I love ya’ to remind you because he knows words can hurt. He does his best to not be too mean :,) and if you ever look slightly sad because of something he said he will flick the switch and turn into a really loving bf. Hah simp.

✗ he wont admit it but he loves affection. Pda is a yes for him. Loves it when you sit in his lap or hold is hand or jump onto his back. He thinks you’re the cutest. You wear his jacket. Before and after games he gives you a sweet kiss on the lips, nothing steamy though thats for back home. He hugs you as a stress release. I know that sounds weird but he finds you to be so comforting and when he engulfs you in a hug and he can smell your shampoo/perfume he just feels really safe and loved and all round lucky to have you.

✗ Oh I know a lot of people have this hc about him only allowing you to cheer for him during his serves but I dont vibe with that. He likes it silent to concentrate so even if you were special (which you are) he doesnt want that game concentration interrupted, which you of course respect and understand. However as soon as his serves are up and its actual game time please cheer as loud as you want because he loves it when you cheer him and his boys team on!!

✗ mans is jealous, he doesnt like it when others get too comfy comfy with you. Like he knows you have other friends and he gets that but he does not! And I repeat - does not! Like it if they (esp opposite gender) get super touchy with you because in his head: ‘why get touchy with her/him/them when I’m literally right here???’ Oh yeah and he hates it when some weirdo is tryna chat you up, so to combat that he would definitely make his presence known. In scenario 1: ‘hey buddy can I have my girl/boy/sIo for a sec? Yeah thanks mate.’ Then he proceeds to kiss you harshly on the lips. Scenario 2: he walks up to the guy/girl/person and puts a hand on the both of yours shoulder. ‘She’s/he’s/they’re taken buddy, scram it.’ And the weirdo gets intimidated by that passive aggressive smile and the strong hand on his shoulder so they usually run away with a scowl right after they’re told.

✗ hes only soft for you behind closed doors sorry bb. Mans is a big simp. Even if he wont show it. I headcanon that he has a horse and knows how to ride it so sometimes he rides it to your house and calls you to come outside. You go outside and there he is, sitting on this large beast with a picnic basket, ‘hey babes wanna have a picnic?’ Ngl you’re surprised every time but go anyways. Omg imagine one day when youre at the picnic he’s all like ‘hey babes wanna see a trick?’ And youre like, ‘yeah sure’ so he gets on the horse and does idk something but then gets bucked off. Omg that shit would be hysterical. Brb gonna write a short scenario on this.

✗ wow ok I love him so much

✗ ok ok so we know Shirabu is smart (example in the timeskip) so he often stays up really really late to work on assignments and to study which means he can get very tired and burnt out esp when he has to do volleyball on top of all that. This is where you come in, you often visit his dorms (Shiratorizawa has dorms so thats the base for shirabu) and when you visit his dorms you bring lots of food - healthy foods to get his brain working but also snack foods to help him relax and release some of that good ol’ serotonin.

✗ when he studies but also feels like cuddling you find yourself facing him while sitting in his lap. You gotta move though cause he’s still working so you end up just cuddling into him like a koala. When he doesnt have to write/is busy reading he will wrap his arms around you and place a kiss to your forehead. He loves you omg, thinks you’re the cutest thing ever. IN FACT his home screen is a picture of you asleep, cuddling him in his lap. The only reason you’re not his lock screen is bc he has a rep to keep up in the club and cant have brats like goshiki knowing he can be soft or tendou teasing him for being ‘simp.’

✗ like atsumu, you gotta be able to take a joke because mans is a salt stick and loves teasing/roasting you. Ofc you do it back. Sometimes you team up and tease Kawanishi together. Please save Kawanishi, he does not want to deal with either of you, bb is tired from volleyball.

✗ shirabu knows he may not be the ideal boyfriend - he’s hopelessly devoted to the volleyball club and studies the life out of himself, so he often finds himself apologising to you and feeling incredibly guilty that he may have to cancel your date every so often. You make sure to remind him that its okay, that you knew what you were getting into when you started dating him and that you admire that he’s so determined and such a hardworker and that you love him. Every time you tell him he almost cries, he loves you.

✗ to make up for lost dates he will invite you to his dorm, or he’ll go to yours and the both of you will spend the day cuddling and snacking on food while watching movies. For him this is like killing two birds with one stone because 1) he gets to relax and have some downtime and 2) he gets to spend that time with you and just being in your presence relaxes him so much. Hhhhh hes so precious omg i love him. Oh and he’ll make sure to tell you that he loves you - it took a while for him to say it because he wanted it to mean something.

✗ when it comes to pda he’s not the most comfortable about it, yknow he just prefers to keep that to himself. But!! Will 100% hold your hand if you ask. Sometimes you don’t even have to ask! He just really likes holding your hand.

✗ now is he jealous or possessive? Yes he is jealous, i cant describe why. He just gives those vibes. I think it’s because he has a lot of self doubt and insecurities about being a good boyfriend that he feels like someone could just sweep you away. He’s self aware so he knows it’s his insecurities talking so he does his best to not believe and act on them but sometimes when someone is deliberately flirting and knows you have a bf he will be big mad. Full on walks up to the guy with an intimidating aura and roasts him. Ngl you find it funny because he’s spitting out insults faster than you could say supercalifragi- something i forgot how to spell it lol.

#haikyuu #haikyu #haikyuu x reader #fluff #x reader #headcanons #hc #shirabu fluff #atsumu fluff #sakusa fluff #komori #shirabu kenjiro #sakusa kiyoomi #komori motoya #miya atsumu

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palukoo · 3 years

Note

andy, toby, and cj!!

thank you!! i always reblog these forgetting I can't pick favorites to save my life but! I will try!!

Andy

First impression: god i love her

Impression now: god i love her (but now with more depth!)

Favorite moment: see this is the favorites thing... remarkably hard considering how little she's there. I have to go with "the good people of Maryland. MARYLAND!" but really anything she does in that ep (esp the "you know i'm gonna get sued" conversation) or... in general... is great

Idea for a story: oh boy... well i AM going to write the long cj/andy fic at some point! hm. let's get specific... @otzi this is for you... cj, andy, and toby at a cher concert.

Unpopular opinion: are there popular opinions about andy? hmm, i guess maybe that i don't really blame her for the "you're just sad, toby" conversation because it is like. rude, obviously, and all that, but i think it's hard for me to begrudge her after he says he thought she was just being cute when saying she didn't want to marry him again. i think mostly though i just... think more about andy than the average tww viewer.

Favorite relationship: cj/andy! also cj/andy/toby or andy&toby bc yeah! but i also have to shout out donna&andy bc I want it so badly

Favorite headcanon: hmmm i have a lot, really. i mean, like, that she isn't straight... that she's one of the most liberal members of congress, probably. that she's also half jewish. that she's always wanted kids. that she struggles with like survivor's guilt after gaza... idk!

Toby

First impression: I honestly don't know but I didn't like Toby as much on my first watch as I do now bc I thought he was condescending and I'm right but like. They all are, kinda

Impression now: i love him! he's very funny and i love his dynamics with everyone and i go a little crazy thinking about him never working on winning campaigns and writing for rafferty and being so cynical but so idealistic at the same time. he still has written by a man disease (honestly. sorkin deserves his own subtype) but i love him!

Favorite moment: fuck! uh. um. hmm. okay obviously the "your father used to hit you" is a good scene and so is like. the better angels line... toby gets a lot of really good lines damn! i might just have to go with in excelsis deo as a whole though because it just shows him as a really good person, and it's bonkers to me with the context from later seasons that. he spends his entire birthday trying to track down next of kin for the dead homeless vet. idk. toby really gets a lot of sorkin's idealism dialogue which can be very lovely... but i think a lot of other moments i'd pick for him would be a lot more about his relationships with other characters bc. that is how i consume media

Idea for a story: honestly, while i love him, it's hard for me to think of doing like. a toby centric story. he definitely fits into a lot of my cj/andy(/toby) stuff obviously, but i tend to more cj centric... hmm. perhaps the post post canon toby & amy fic of my dreams where she writes a book that he critiques endlessly and they run someone's (probably rafferty's) campaign together

Unpopular opinion: i... don't hate his s7 plot? i totally, 100% get why people do, especially going back and watching s1, because his whole thing is loyalty and that jed is his guy and all that, but he also argues with jed over calls all the time, and i think... hm. the late seasons kind of break all the characters? and i get why people don't like that obviously, but i think it's just about pushing them to a point where there going to act differently than we expect them to (cj keeping will and toby out of the loop like she would've complained about and having to become much more pragmatic, josh leaving, donna leaving, toby committing treason, jed sort of losing power, etc...), and it's interesting development and it's weirdly something i accept at face value rather than push back against?

Favorite relationship: romantic? idk, i like cj/andy/toby and i like josh/toby too. friendship? everyone lmao. i really really love cj&toby and josh&toby and toby&sam and you get the point. tww is a family it's hard to individualize

Favorite headcanon: like i am obsessed with bi toby. idk, like. bc of what i want to write about, i sorta think of his relationship to the concept of family a fair amount... and then like this isn't even headcanon but there's a richard schiff interview somewhere where he says "his desire to cut people down is minimal. It's something he could do in his sleep, and it's not the point." and i just think about that so much.

First impression: wow!!!! wow!!! holy shit!!! i love her!!!

Impression now: all of that still and i would very very much like to hug her and want her to be happy and god she is so so good i lose my mind. i stay up at night thinking about her.

Favorite moment: there's too many!! cj has so many funny moments that i adore and they're a huge part of what makes me love her but i also love her heavier things. i love her trying to leak the story about the gay kid's dad in season one to danny. i LOVE her trying to quit until jed asks her to stay. i love her laughing and saying "the fall's gonna kill you" and i love her crying alone as she walks around new york and hallelujah plays. i love (maybe, it's complicated) her and donna in no exit. i love her when she starts as chief of staff and i love her answer to the press about her sexuality. i love her now knowing what the hell she wants in late season 7. hmm. i'm gonna say balancing the egg.

Idea for a story: okay well i'll talk about the cj/andy wip here in broad terms because like. it's about cj relearning how to be happy but like more specifically how to think about what she wants after canon, because i don't think she's like completely unhappy for all of canon and she's very optimistic compared to a lot of the others but like, she does spend a fair amount of canon just making sacrifices, and i want her to get a break and have a family!

Unpopular opinion: idk how popular or not this is, i just can't get behind cj/danny. i can't. it's too much him chasing after her while she seems mostly indifferent or vaguely annoyed. i hate that her ending is with him because to me the whole point of that episode wasn't "cj can't see a good thing in front of her" but was "cj has a hard time stepping away from what she perceives as an obligation/thinks she should do (usually to make other people happy)" and should've culminated in her not working with santos and not being with danny.

Favorite relationship: cj/andy! again i cannot possibly choose a platonic one... i'm going to SAY cj&josh bc. i love them, but in two seconds i'll remember anything about any other interaction of hers and go insane

Favorite headcanon: hmm again i have a lot! largely about family and that whole concept! huh. god. i think a lot of it is like canon or at least strongly canon supported, or i've already mentioned. like, cj being really good at disguising her emotions is just plainly canon. oh! hey! i really do love she/they cj!

#asks #answered #claudiasjeancregg #apologies if this makes no sense it is late and i spent several hours before this researching real politics and several hours before that #vaguely uh. editing fic i guess? / kinda writing. so brain broken but i wanted to answer :)#tww #andy wyatt #toby ziegler #cj cregg #gotta say i really don't know how i've become this attached to amy&toby but i have! same goes for amy&sam but i at least actually write #that one a fair amount in the amy fic and i havent done much with toby #this is an invitation to ask me about literally any relationship or group of people in tww and what i think their dynamics are like.#bonus points for including amy jsfbdb but not required!!

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willow-lane · 3 years

Text

I saw [WILLOW LANE] at a coffee shop in [BROOKLYN] today. I forgot how much [SHE] looks like [MADELYN CLINE]. They are a [TWENTY-THREE] year old [WAITRESS] who’s been in NYC for [A YEAR] now. Every time we run into each other, they are always [SPONTANEOUS AND FREE SPIRITED] but I’ve heard people say they can also be [NON-COMMITTAL AND SELF-INDULGENT]. [OUT OF THE BLUE BY KATIE PRUITT] reminds me of them every time it comes on the radio. / @villagestart

Hello everyone! I’m Ella and I’m super excited to be part of this roleplay and introduce Willow to all of you, she’s a new muse but she’s based on an old muse of mine so I think I have her figured out or mostly lol. I’d love to plot with all of you, so please like this or hmu. If you want my discord, I’d be happy to give it to you, just ask :D

basics

NAME: ava willow lane

NICKNAME: will, lolo, pillow

GENDER: cis female

PLACE OF BIRTH: burlington, vermont

DATE OF BIRTH: september 28, 1997

AGE: twenty-three

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: bisexual

OCCUPATION: waitress

NEIGHBORHOOD: brooklyn

background

Burlington was a dream within a dream, the station next to heaven. A town in love with itself and whose residents gloated about the wooded land, creased by hills, and threaded by streams.

The Lanes were living the typical American dream: the big house with the white picket fence, a large backyard and two perfect children. It was dreamlike.

Their kids could count themselves lucky and Willow Lane certainly did for most of her life. As the youngest daughter of a successful surgeon and a renowned psychotherapist who taught at the University of Vermont, she was taught that receiving an education was the only way to get ahead in life.

Her parents made sure to set their kids to success and while most of the kids from her street were out there playing, she was holed up in her room, reading the stacks of encyclopedia books her parents bought me for her birthday.

As a young child, Willow was filled with a sense of wonder, and encouraged by her curious personality she wanted to learn everything.

By the time she was in the sixth grade, she was smarter than most of the kids in her class, still her parents reminded her every day that she must outrank them all. Her parents took pride in her achievements. They were quick to boast about it in public, but they remained strict in private. Anything less than gold didn’t deserve a place on the wall.

Her afternoons were always full. Whether it was ballet class, french lessons, piano lessons or soccer practice. She had no time for herself.

Then high school started and by then she was overworked. Tired of chasing perfection and only being met with a “try harder”.

TW: DRUGS, ADDICTION, VOMIT MENTION, PANIC ATTACK: While she was still number one at her school, it was taking everything in her to keep it that way. Her parents didn’t know about those panic attacks she suffered at night or how she threw up before any competition. To them, she was handling well and she was very good at pretending but she also had a little secret. In her sophomore year, she was introduced to Adderall and she was quickly hooked. END OF TW

When she got accepted into a prestigious university, her parents didn’t hesitate to brag about how their kid would attend an Ivy League but Willow was mortified.

Back in Burlington, she was the biggest fish in the sea but at Princeton there were students who were better and shone brighter than her.

Maybe it was because she was suddenly cast into a whole new world that was so different from the one she grew up in. Maybe it was because she had harbored a bit of resentment towards her parents for her wasted youth. Whatever it was, by the end of her freshman year, university had swallowed her up.

TW ALCOHOL, DRUGS, DEPRESSION She got into a bad crowd, drank herself into oblivion, partied harder than anyone, and developed a penchant for bad boys who were much older than her. All this while trying to maintain a perfect GPA. Thanks to her magic pill, she was able to function and not feel guilty about not being as perfect as her parents wanted her to be. After all, she was only trying to recover the freedom that they took from her.

But this coping mechanism only turned to worse. The more she tried to drown her feelings in alcohol, the harder it came to bite her in the ass. It was clear as water: Willow Lane, picture perfect daughter, was depressed and had been for a while, and now it had caught up to her.

She was fighting a battle she was slowly losing. Willow was in a constant state of helplessness, staring into the void, and completely unable to pull herself out of it. If it hadn’t been for the upbringing she had, she would have been completely fine with self-destruct. END OF TW

The summer after her freshman year, she came back home and decided to have a talk with her parents. Her parents sat across the table, and they were not celebrating the end of a successful first semester, instead, they were fuming with betrayal.

Willow told them that she had dropped most of her classes and she explained to them how she was exhausted beyond repair. They were displeased, so disappointed that looking at them was painful. For the first time in their life, their perfect daughter had failed them.

By the end of the evening, her father was livid. Threatened her that if she didn’t take more classes and got excellent grades he would stop paying her tuition. That’s when it hit her. To her parents, she was nothing but an object, an accomplishment to brag about to her friends. That was not love, that was selfish and a wake up call.

She packed up her stuff that evening, went back to Princeton and emptied her dorm as well as she dropped out completely.

Freedom at last. With only a few bucks in her account, she bought a random bus ticket that took her to Montreal, Canada where she stayed for a couple of weeks, while working as a waitress before she moved to a new location. For the past three years, Willow has been living off a backpack.

She moved to New York a year ago, but she comes and goes. Whenever she gets bored or too attached to someone she escapes.

She’s been clean for three years when it comes to Adderall, although she still drinks but only socially.

personality

Despite her strict upbringing, Willow is a free-spirit! She’s always looking for a new adventure and she wants to live her life to the fullest, she doesn’t care about rules or schedules. She lives a pretty hedonistic lifestyle, always chasing a high in life and sometimes that makes her take some reckless decisions. A naturally loving person, Willow is always there to lend a shoulder to cry on or offer to wipe off your tears, however, she does struggle with connections. If she feels a deep connection with someone she runs away as she believes that being attached to someone will tie her up to one place and as we know, Willow lives a pretty nomad life. She keeps coming back to New York because she loves the vibe but when she gets bored or overwhelmed she leaves without warning. As loving as she is, she can also be ruthless and cold, especially when feeling vulnerable. She has a sharp tongue and it’s not afraid to hurt some feelings if that means shattering the pristine image some people have of her.

headcanons

She has a rib cage tattoo that reads “Eternity bores me, I never wanted it.” It’s a quote from Sylvia Plath.

Speaks French fluently and sometimes she likes to pretend she’s a lost French tourist just for fun.

Volunteers at the animal shelter. Because she doesn’t have a set home, she can’t have a pet but she loves animals.

Never has enough battery on her phone and sometimes she sings in the subway to earn some coins because she tends to forget her wallet.

Really good friends with the homeless woman who lives down her street, she brings her food from the restaurant.

Keeps many scrapbooks from the places she’s been.

Sometimes she goes to music stores and plays the piano, one of the few activities she enjoyed as a child.

Loves reading and whenever she’s not getting in trouble or working, she’s at the library.

Wears too many rings, so don’t try to mug her.

connections

Older brother: Willow has an older brother who followed her parents’ plan. He graduated college and now has a very important job. Willow hasn’t spoken to him in three years, even if he’s tried to contact her. She just doesn’t want any ties to her old life, including her family.

“Best Friend”: I put it between quotations because she doesn’t stay in one place long enough to actually form long lasting friendships but this person is the closest to that. She adores them and actually sends them a postcard when she leaves.

Partner in crime: As stated, Willow is pretty reckless and she does a lot of stupid shit but she’s always seeking for someone to be her partner in crime and just go crazy with them.

Co-workers/Clients: She works as a waitress at a restaurant (if your character has a restaurant let me know, bc idk where she would work).

Neighbor: She lives in a small apartment in Brooklyn with two other roommates, it’s not ideal but it’s what she has.

College friends/hook ups: Oh during her college year, she was a party girl and she made a lot of “friends” (She attended Princeton btw) and also hooked up with a lot of people (f/m/nb), most of them were older than her.

Flirtationship: She is a natural flirt and she doesn’t even try to hide it.

Unrequited: Maybe your character has a crush on her (and depending on chemistry maybe she does as well but since she moves often she tries to ignore it). It’s angsty, it’s fun, give it to me. (f/m/nb)

Hook ups: Y’all know the drill

Bad tinder date: Willow thought it would be fun to go on a tinder date and she proposed some crazy scheme and they both had to spend the night in a jail cell.

Roommates: She lives in Brooklyn with two more roommates.

#villageintro #tw alcohol #tw drugs #tw depression #this is SO long and for what

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teddy-bear-surprise · 3 years

Text

Chapter 2: The First Assignment

Link to the table of contents and disclaimers: 𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐲 ✷ 𝐌𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐤𝐢

A/N: Sorry for the long wait :( I just started writing the third chapter so that should be up relatively soon too... It was supposed to be a part of this chapter but I had to separate it bc google docs starts crapping out after like 10 pages

Mitch and Marcel exited the foyer after a long introduction and walked along the clean marble hallway. As Stilinski followed Marcel, he cautiously scanned the walls admiring the outdated yet stylish design. The heels of his oxfords clicked vibrantly with each stride, echoing against the tall ceiling. As their steps approached Genevieve’s hiding spot, she scampered back into her sanctuary. She stole a quick glance into the hallway, locking eyes with Mitch.

The sudden and unintended eye contact with Celestin’s daughter drove a stake through Mitch’s heart and invoked the dozens of warnings that Didier and Hurley had drilled into his head the prior week. Whatever you do, Stilinski, don’t engage with his daughter. Hey, Stilinski, remember that Marcel Celestin will literally rip you to pieces if you fuck up. Don’t forget: if Celestin even suspects you might be interested in his daughter, you’re deader than dead.

Mitch averted his eyes and gave his head a quick shake, ridding himself of the ridiculous internal commentary. He clearly understood the severity and danger of his employment, but he struggled to wrap his head around the notion of a father as overprotective as Marcel. Mitch never had anyone worry about him like that. When he joined the CIA, he was only able to do so because of his complete lack of family, friends, and life. He had always seen himself as expandable to a certain extent. Stilinski would put his life on the line, time after time, because he just could not fathom anything more important than his mission. In attempting to understand Marcel’s neuroticism, Mitch realized that Marcel’s mission was handing off his “business” to Genevieve, and that– like him– Marcel would stop at nothing to see his mission through. Even so, Mitch questioned the validity of the horror stories he had been bombarded with regarding the Celestins.

A lock snapped loudly, bringing Mitch out of his trance, as another one of Marcel’s employees opened the door for them to enter Marcel’s grand office. The walls were lined with glimmering trophies from Marcel’s past and photographs of him and Genevieve; Mitch was struck with surprise to see a mafioso’s office look so ordinary. The floor here was no longer made of stone and was instead a smooth dark wood. In the center of the room there lay a large, illustrious rug with a heavy mahogany desk sitting atop it. On the wall behind the desk, two grand windows brightened the room and gave it life.

Marcel continued walking in front of Stilinski, making his way to the looming chair behind the desk. He sat himself down, motioning across the desk, and told Mitch to take a seat. Mitch pulled out a chair and rested his body weight on the arm as he lowered himself onto the seat. He then leaned forward and looked at Marcel, waiting for further instruction.

“Stilinski,” Celestin began, “After Didier assesses your physical abilities today, I have a job for you. Tomorrow, I want you to take my daughter, Genevieve, to Paris. It’s been years since she’s been to the city and I’m having a soireè next week so she needs a new outfit. Your job is simple, keep her alive, make sure she gets something nice, and obviously don’t fuck up.”

“Of course, Sir. It would be my pleasure.” Mitch replied immediately, though his mind was churning.

“Let’s consider this a gesture of good faith. You get her there and back in one piece and you get to keep your job, you fail and… Well, I think you know what happens then, don’t you?”

Stilinski took a deep breath, “Yes, Sir. I am aware. Thank you for this opportunity, I won’t let you down.”

Celestin nodded his head towards the door, indicating that Mitch should leave. “Good, I wouldn’t want to lose another half-decent guard to incompetency.”

Mitch nodded while he got up and walked to the door. As he reached for the knob, the door swung open and he came face to face with Genevieve. Again. He looked down at her, unintentionally, before quickly backing away and letting her pass in front of him. She kept her eyes on him for another second before waltzing towards her father’s desk.

“One of the guards gave me a note telling me to meet you down here, what’s going on?”

“You know what, Genevieve, you got here just in time. Stilinski, stay here for just another minute and shut the door, will you?”

Stilinski closed the door again, “Yes, Sir.”

“Genevieve, I want you to meet our newest guard, Mitch Stilinski. He’s going to take you into Paris tomorrow to pick some things up for the event I’m planning for next weekend.”

Genevieve turned and glared at Mitch, slightly squinting her eyes, “Really?”

She had not meant it in a rude way, but she was truly shocked that her father would let the ‘new guy’ take her into the city.

“Sorry,” Genevieve continued. “That sounds like a brilliant idea father.”

Marcel smirked and waved his hand, dismissing the both of them. Mitch re-opened the door, holding it open for Genevieve. She walked past him without so much as a glance. Genevieve slipped back into the library, slamming the door loudly behind her.

Mitch, as confused as ever, shut Marcel’s door quietly. He walked rapidly away, trying to figure out where the gym was. He eventually found it, the first door to the right of the foyer, and saw Didier patiently waiting inside. Didier was leaning against a padded wall, wrapping his hands, dressed in a black t-shirt and sweatpants.

Didier greeted him nonchalantly, “So, Stilinski, how’s the first day going?”

“It could be better. Celestin already gave me an assignment and I don’t know if I’m anywhere near ready to take on this kind of responsibility.”

“Well then, you better learn soon.” He chuckled at the quip and rolled his eyes, “I kinda figured that out on my own, Axel. I’m gonna go change but I’ll be back in a minute.”

Stilinski stumbled into the locker room, trying to find the locker with his number on it. When he had been tattooed with the crow on his neck, he was assigned a number. Mitch had been given the number 7 following the death of the original number 7 in a gruesome shoot-out. The number was hidden within the bird’s eye, forever marking him as one of Celestin’s disciples. He scanned up, down, and across until the number 7 caught his eye. It was hidden in the far right corner of the locker room and when he opened it, it contained the same black shirt, pants, and hand wraps that Didier had. Mitch carefully took off his suit, hanging it in the locker, and put on the black ensemble. He wrapped his hands quickly as he walked out of the locker room.

Mitch and Axel sparred for over an hour, neither one could seem to knock the other down long enough to win. It seemed that, though years ago, Hurley’s training had stuck in their minds. Both of their hands were covered in bruises beneath the wraps, only a few punches away from dislocating a knuckle. They panted heavily as they threw punches and kicked at each other with sweat dripping into their eyes. Mitch approached Axel, hoping to win the match with a final punch, but Didier was more experienced and used Mitch’s own momentum against him. He punched Stilinski sharply in the jaw, knocked him onto his back, and held him down with one knee.

“5… 4… 3… 2… 1… I win!” Didier lifted his knee from Mitch’s chest as he stood up.

“You know,” Began Stilinski, “I would normally be mad that you beat me, but I’m so tired right now that I couldn’t care less.”

“Yeah right, Stilinski. I know I hurt your ego.” He held a hand out to Mitch.

Stilinski stood up, “I’m serious, the jet lag, the sparring, and the weird threats… I’m exhausted from all this shit and it’s only day one.”

“You’ll get used to it. Why don’t you tell me more about this new assignment of yours while we do a few miles on the treadmill?”

“Great, running and talking. My two favorite things. I’ll agree to it this once, but only because I don’t have the slightest fucking idea about what to do tomorrow.”

A few rooms down, Genevieve continued obsessively daydreaming about her outing to Paris. She could hardly even remember what stores she used to shop at in the city, let alone how to dress for an event as nice as the one her father was planning. Along the bottom row of the library shelves, there was a handful of fashion magazines, they were all a few seasons old but she figured they would hold up well enough. After all, how much could fashion really change?

Genevieve leafed through the pages, dog-earing the outfits she thought might be appropriate for the occasion. She closed her eyes, letting the sun seep through her eyelids as she pictured herself walking down the long staircase in a shimmering sage dress.

In her mind, the ideal dress would be fuller than full, putting at least two feet between her and everyone else; it was to have a laced corset bodice covered in lilac petals and small beads; and the straps would hang loosely off of her shoulders, brushing her skin ever so slightly. Unfortunately, however, Genevieve knew that it would be impossible to find such a dress on such short notice. She continued flipping through dozens of magazines until dinnertime, jotting down the names of certain shops and designers that were based in Paris, and hoped that one of them might be able to produce a miracle. Soon after, Genevieve’s night came to a close and she drifted off to sleep dreaming about the following day’s adventures.

“Genevieve, my darling, it’s time for you to get up. You’ve got to go into the city to find an outfit. Remember?”

Marcel sat down on Geveieve’s bed, rubbing her shoulder softly. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. At only seven in the morning, the sun had just begun it’s work and shone weakly along the horizon. Its rays reflected off of the curtains and into Genevieve’s eyes, causing her to turn away from the window.

“Yes, I remember.” She sighed with uncertainty, “Papà, I’m not quite sure I’m up for this today. This seems like such a big step to take… for me, and for the new guard.”

Genevieve’s stomach churned and her heart began beating quickly. Suddenly, it felt like the whole world– despite its beauty– had put her into a chokehold. She breathed with shallow gasps, never seeming to get enough oxygen. Her arms grew weak and she laid back down, praying that the horrible feeling would subside.

Her father’s eyebrows furrowed together, “You’ll be okay, my darling. I would never let anything happen to you. I promise.”

Marcel got up and opened Genevieve’s door, calling out for someone to bring a glass of water.

“But what if something did happen? What if…”

Marcel cut her off, “I know you’re anxious. I know, but give it an hour, and then you can decide if you want to go or not.”

His words, while not very helpful, provided some comfort. For some reason, Genevieve had a nasty habit of developing nauseating anxiety in the early morning. It had been happening since she was a child, but as she had not woken up before nine am in many years, she had grown unaccustomed to the feeling. It used to just set her back by a few minutes, only occasionally proving to be a real problem. Now, however, Genevieve felt like she had been hit by a two-ton garbage truck.

The same man who had brought her lunch yesterday walked in with a tall glass of water. He handed it to Genevieve who sipped on it slowly.

“Well, I’ll be in my office if you need anything. I’ll check back in an hour to see how you are. Sebastien, let’s go.” Her father patted her head and walked out, Sebastien closing the door behind them.

Genevieve sat up and leaned against the wall, breathing deeply and naming everything in her vicinity. She saw her bed, her hands, the door, the windows, and the glass of water on her bedside table. Her skin felt the cool fabric of her bed, the cold glass between her palms, the single feather poking out of her pillow, and the wall behind her head. Her ears could pick out the faint sound of voices outside, birds chirping, and the wind blowing. With each inhale, she could smell breakfast being made in the kitchen mixing with the fresh scent of her bedsheets. Taking a sip of water, she noted that she didn’t quite taste anything, but that always seemed to happen when she got to the last step.

During the next fifty-five minutes Genevieve’s breath became more natural and her heartbeat slowed. Still leaning against the wall, she bent over to place the empty water glass on her bedside table, wondering why she held onto it for so long. Her father came in soon after as if he had telepathically sensed her newfound calm.

He sat beside her, taking her hand in his, “So, was I right? Are you feeling better now, Genevieve?”

“Yeah, I guess I do feel better.” She let a small smirk take over her face.

“See, daughter, all you needed was some time. That is our most precious resource. Not our money, not our network, not our assassins… It’s the one we take the most for granted, our time. One day, you’ll see just how little time we really have.” Marcel let go of her hand, “Now, you go on into the city to find something nice to wear.”

Genevieve stood up and ushered her father out. She figured it was time to get dressed since she had already wasted so much time. After changing, she brushed her teeth and rushed downstairs, hoping to make the most of her time. While Genevieve was not necessarily excited to be going shopping, it was an opportunity that she had not been able to experience in a long time.

Her father led her to a car that was waiting out front with Mitch behind the wheel. He tilted his head down by an inch when he noticed her as a sign of respect. Genevieve slid into the back seat quietly, pulling her backpack over her knees. As she looked back towards him, Marcel shut the car door and gave her a soft smile. He patted the side of the car and Mitch slowly drove away, the sounds of gravel crunching beneath the tires. Genevieve turned solemnly towards her home, watching it shrink into the horizon. This outing was a new type of adventure for both herself and Mitch, and neither of them knew what to expect.

#dylan o'brien #Mitch Rapp #mitch stilinski #mitch rapp fanfiction #stiles stilinski #stiles x oc #stiles fanfiction #dylan o'brien fanfiction #teen wolf #American Assassin

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zoryany · 4 years

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@kaitodetective1412 sent me 45 -- You may technically be an adult, but you’re still my child.

(an anon did as well and I do plan to answer both in different ways and I will tag kaito in the anon answer as well bc I feel like this isn’t what either of you wanted but it’s what you’re gonna get, for now)

Imperial Royal Skywalker Family AU Pt 1 || Pt 2

send me ficlet prompts – optionally include characters

Dessert passed in relative silence, the atmosphere in the dining room having grown decidedly tense. Luke had really been hoping he could have delayed Han meeting his father until after he’d spoken to his parents, but the Force seemed to be set on toying with him. At least Mother had been able to placate Father before he’d done anything rash, but Luke wasn’t sure that had been entirely preferable, either.

When they’d all finished, Luke moved to usher Han back to his suite, but his mother raised her hand before he had the chance to even rise from his chair. “Leia? Sweetheart, can you please escort Captain Solo to his rooms while your father and I talk to Luke?”

“Yes, Mother.” Leia looked as though she would rather swallow a bantha whole, but she knew better than to argue with their mother, especially when she was already in a dangerous enough mood. She was also probably hoping she’d get to be in on the whole conversation that was to come, which added to her disappointment. Not that it mattered, anyways, because one way or another, she would know exactly what was said, but her expression and presence in the Force soured significantly as she turned her gaze to Han. “Let’s go, Captain. I don’t have all night.”

Han threw a final, withering look over his shoulder as Leia led him from the room, leaving Luke alone with his mother at last. With a severe expression, she turned to face him, and Luke felt his stomach drop out from under him. Out of the eyes of company, it was entirely clear just how upset she really was. All of the guilt that had been eating at him for the past weeks rose back up in him all at once.

“Come, dear,” said his mother as she stood. “Let’s not keep your father waiting.”

Hanging his head, Luke followed his mother with heavy steps to his father’s study. Unlike the rooms of the Palace occupied largely by the Empress, Darth Vader’s spaces, both planetside and on his flagship, tended to be dim and spartan, possessing little in the way of embellishments. He claimed it as practicality -- and, on most occasions, Luke would agree with that -- but right about now, he was convinced that it was meant to make facing him all that more intimidating.

Luke had never been afraid of his father. He understood why people were, and why they should be, and he was all too aware of what someone as powerful as Darth Vader was capable of, but he’d never feared him. His father would never hurt him or Leia, especially not with Mother around to rein in his temper, but there was always a certain anxiety that overtook him whenever his father was angry. He hated the feeling, the sudden urge to cower in submission before a man he’d idolized all his life and who loved him deeply. Leia had always been better than Luke at standing strong in the face of his emotions, perhaps because she had never felt the same level of hero-worship towards him, but Luke was finding himself longing for some of her strength right about now.

His father had been pacing the length of the room when they’d arrived, but the moment they crossed the threshold, he stopped in his tracks and whirled around. The movement was so abrupt that most would assume that kind of speed impossible from a man as large as Vader, but he moved quick enough to send his cape billowing behind him. “Sit,” he commanded, pointing to a chair in the centre of the room.

As he complied, his mother walked to stand to the right of her husband, both parents folding their arms across their chests. His cheeks burned in shame as he avoided looking directly at them. How was it that they could so easily make him feel like he was five years old again?

“You know why you are here, son.” The modulated voice carried a tranquil rage, one that affected him far more than being shouted at ever would. “Explain.”

‘You can do this, Luke,’ he thought silently, sucking in a shuddering breath in an attempt to steady himself. ‘You’ve been practicing this speech in your head since you left.’

"I -- I can’t apologize enough for leaving without warning like that. I know I put you through needless worry, and I’m sure that nothing I can do will make up for that. I just... needed to get away.” Stars, it sounded even lamer saying it out loud than it did in his head. Neither parent looked pleased. He pressed on. “You know I’ve never really liked -- never really been comfortable with any of... well, our status.” Once again, he was jealous of Leia. She wouldn’t be stumbling over her words like this. “I’ve never liked being the Prince, never really liked making public appearances. Never been good at them, either. Leia’s always been better suited for it. And after twenty years of it, I was feeling... claustrophobic. I needed some freedom.”

“Freedom?” It had always been a touchy subject for his father, Luke knew, but he had to hope he could use that to his advantage. “As the Imperial Prince, you have been granted every want, every desire you could hope for. Your mother and I fought tirelessly, made endless sacrifices to create this life for you and your sister. There has never been more freedom in the galaxy, and you stand at the head of it all.”

Was his father being serious? “You... actually expect me to believe that being rich and powerful is the same as being free?” But then, of course his father did. “Maybe you just don’t realize this gilded cage you’ve put me in, Father. I can’t go anywhere beyond our private quarters without an excessive number of guards accompanying me. You and mother have to be aware of my location at every given moment. I’m not allowed to fly or talk to people or do anything without express permission! It’s suffocating! It’s -- ”

“For your safety,” his father growled, hands falling from his chest to form clenched fists at his sides. Next to him, his mother tensed slightly, pursing her lips, but she did nothing more than focus on watching him just a bit more closely. “Everything I have ever done has been to keep you and your mother and your sister safe. The life we live has come at a great cost, and I will not see you throw it all away out of some foolish rebellion. If something would have happened to you -- ”

“But it didn’t!” Luke cried, his voice pitching upward. Any fear or anxiety he’d been feeling had evaporated, and he was prepared to staunchly defend himself. He was not an idiot. He knew exactly how his parents would feel and how they would react to his departure. The decision he made was conscious and purposeful, and he had every intention of justifying it. “I can take care of myself, you know. All that training hasn’t been for nothing. I was careful. I took every precaution. And I’m twenty years old, now, I’m not a little kid anymore.”

While his mother’s face had relaxed a bit, his father did not appear to be convinced. “You may technically be an adult,” he said, slowly, “but you are still my child -- our child. I have torn down the galaxy once to protect you, and I would do it a thousand times over if it keeps you from harm.”

Letting out a noise of frustration, Luke leapt up from his seat. “But that’s just it! I know you have and I know that you were trying to do it again! Don’t think I didn’t notice the swath of destruction you left in your wake when you tried to track me down this time. It’s too much! I love you both so much, but I don’t want the galaxy to grind to a halt just because I ask for some time alone. I can’t stand all the attention, the pomp and circumstance that surrounds everything I do, the formality I’m forced to endure just to attend dinner! I just -- ” His voice broke, and he was embarrassed to find his eyes stinging as he looked imploringly at his parents. “All I wanted was a little bit of normalcy.”

Slumping back in his chair, Luke realized he may not have processed all of this quite as successfully as he’d initially thought. Running away, it turned out, had only served as a distraction from genuinely confronting what was really bothering him.

“Normalcy?” The vocoder’s tone was dull and flat, and his father seemed to have relaxed his stance, somewhat, almost in disbelief. “You wish to be ordinary? Like every other being in this galaxy?” Disbelief was evident, now. His father’s fists had uncurled, his shoulders slackened, and though he could not see his face, Luke got the impression of wide eyes and raised brows. “That... is unacceptable. You are the furthest thing from ordinary, son. You are above those lesser beings, and I would not see you receive anything less than you deserve. ”

"No,” Luke said, quietly but firmly, “I am not above them.” He’d spent countless hours in the Coruscant underground, on treks both known and unknown to his parents, and he’d spent several weeks touring the galaxy. He had interacted with their citizens on a regular basis, and he knew who they really were. They were people, beings with dreams and aspirations and ideals, and they were magnificent. “My abilities and my status don’t make me any better than anyone else. Aren’t we supposed to be ruling the galaxy for them?”

A stubborn set worked its way through his father’s frame, unyielding as ever. “We do. The galaxy has never fared better.” And he could not be certain if that was a truth or a lie, but his father certainly believed it. “But I cannot allow you to stoop to the level of those below your status. The future of our benevolent Empire rests upon you and your sister. You must maintain a particular image if you wish for your control over them to endure.”

“Are you not listening to me?” But Luke already knew the answer to that. Of course his father wasn’t listening to him. Anything that contradicted his very specific view of the universe rarely made it through. “I don’t want that power to rest on me! I’m not interested in having people grovel at my feet or flinch away from me in fear. I don’t want people to worship me or treat me like... like -- ”

“Royalty?” His father’s arms were folded across his chest again. “That is what you are.”

Luke was prepared to cut in, and his father looked like he had more to say, but before either of them could speak up again, his mother stepped up and placed a gentle hand on his father’s shoulder.

“Ani, wait.” Even after twenty years, Luke could still not believe just how quickly his father seemed to settle when his mother intervened. “I think I know what this is about.” His mother’s expression grew tender as she stepped towards him, crouching down before his chair and cupping his face in her hands. “Dearest,” she said with unparalleled tenderness, “was this because of your birthday?”

Reading the sympathy and understanding in his mother’s deep brown eyes, Luke found himself leaning into her touch. She was radiating compassion, searching for understanding, and Luke knew that this was the reason he’d always intended to return home when he’d left. His parents loved him. They cared for him. They wanted what was best for him, even if they didn’t know how to go about it. All he’d wanted was to do something on his own terms.

“Yes...”

Because his birthday had not been on his terms. It hadn’t been on Leia’s, either, but she could adapt to it much easier than her brother. He’d been overwhelmed, surrounded by sycophants who only wanted to know him because he was an heir, and his status meant that he could not enjoy even the smallest of pleasantries at a party that was meant to be for him and his twin. And then the scene during the speeches...

He’d never wanted to leave his family. Luke loved his mother, father and sister with his entire being. But their status had always weighed on him, and that night had been a breaking point.

“Oh, sweetheart...” His mother shifted her grip and pulled him close. Luke squeezed his eyes shut. Tears had been threatening to spring forth since he’d sat back down, and they ran freely down his cheeks when his mother’s arms enveloped him. “Why didn’t you say anything? We could have talked this out. You didn’t need to run away.”

At this point, his father had taken a single step forward, appearing somewhat hesitant but still refusing to relent. Luke chose to focus on his mother, and he found himself sinking in on himself even more. It felt nearly impossible to convey how he felt and what he wanted without hurting their feelings. His mother’s sympathetic gaze coupled with his father’s unyielding stance only served to elevate his guilt.

But there was this sneaking feeling within him that the conversation his mother suggested wouldn’t have gone well regardless.

“I didn’t think you would listen to me,” he said quietly. “You’re still not really listening to me. I had to do something drastic. It felt like the only option, at the time, and I still feel like it’s not enough. Han makes me happy in a way that all that spectacle just - doesn’t. So I just - I need you to understand why - and I mean actually understand. Because I didn’t want to run. And I don’t want to do it again. But I can’t keep going like this...”

For a long moment, his mother looked at him with large, sad eyes before finally withdrawing her hands and stepping away. “Alright,” she said, a quiet resignation working its way into her voice. “I... don’t think we’ll get much further tonight. Why don’t you go wash up for bed, and your father and I will discuss what you’ve told us.” She pressed her lips together and gave him a long, steady look. “We want what’s best for you, Luke. Please know this.”

And he did. The trouble was, their idea of what was best for him didn’t always match up to his own.

“Luke.” His father seemed uncharacteristically hesitant. “Please do not resort to this again.”

There was more his father wanted to say - more they all wanted to say - but Luke felt satisfied that they had, at the very least, made some manner of progress tonight.

“I won’t, Father. I promise.”

#imperial royal skywalker family au #luke skywalker #darth vader #padme naberrie #padme amidala #my writing #star wars fic #i THINK i'm happy with this #hope you folks enjoy!#any feedback is obviously appreciated #so let me know what you think!#and if you want more of this AU #either a continuation #or like other things that go down in it

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beanarie · 5 years

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⭐star⭐⭐star⭐⭐star⭐⭐star⭐⭐star⭐ (or talk more about and/all of your Elementary WIPs/ideas bc I want every single drop I can get)

so i totally wrote about joan having breast cancer a couple years ago. here’s the bits i cobbled together, some of which also disappeared from my phone, which tells me i need to back my shit up more often!

The call comes while her stitches from her lumpectomy and lymph node removal are still in place and hurting like a mother and she's only too aware of Sherlock, his terror an acrid smell in her nose. She's told it's not what they hoped, but it's not hopeless, and she barely pauses at all before she looks at Sherlock, smiles, and says, "It's fine."

He's so grateful he takes her out for lunch. They go to a cafe with an outdoor area that he knows she's been eyeing for months. She orders a giant salad with extra pecans and he wrinkles his nose before telling a story about Thomas Jefferson's penchant for giving pecans as gifts.

[the truth comes out in a week or so!]

"We should talk about this."

He closes the file in his hand and tosses it on the stack.

"I-I'm sorry I kept you in the dark. I needed to get the full results and figure out what to do next, without... I don't know. Background noise."

"It's not that serious. People with results like mine have a ninety-three percent chance of remaining cancer-free after treatment. Really, it's barely cancer."

"I mean, yes. Several weeks of radiation, sprinkled with tests and maybe a PET scan or two. Still, not particularly life-derailing. I'm going to work. The only real change will be to my availability. And I won't be able to leave the city, except maybe on the weekends. Overall, we'll simply get more use out of face-time than we did before."

A series of short, shallow nods urges her to let the other shoe drop.

Joan adjusts her gaze to slightly beyond his left ear. "I've asked Lin to help me find a place to sublet for the next two months."

His only reaction is the barely perceptible droop of his shoulders.

"I'm not leaving you." The first time she meant to leave the brownstone, he abducted a contract killer, then tortured and stabbed him. The second time, he went back to London for almost a year with no notice beyond a short Dear Joan letter. She can't handle one of his signature extreme overreactions. "Sherlock, it's really important you absorb that, if nothing else."

"But you do plan on leaving."

"It's the least disruptive option for both of us. And it's only temporary."

[the next day, joan gets home and in the library there's a stack of books, dvds, and cd's on wellness-type things and other stuff, like a giant fluffy orange blanket on the couch. sherlock explains he did some research, orange is a calming color. also OK HE RESPECTS HER CHOICES but. she's not a disruption, she's family. also also moving is one of the most stress-inducing acts a person can put themselves through and it wouldn't be good for her recovery to do that twice in as many months. anyway, she stays.]

"We should formulate a safety plan."

Joan finishes the line she was working on and clicks save so she doesn't have to end up doing this report all over again. This has his second sponsor written all over it. Rashida, having completed her PHD, has been taking classes in behavioral science possibly with an eye for a new specialty. She means well, and she and Sherlock get each other like a pair of esoteric intellectuals only could. It's still strange to get confirmation that he talks about her illness with other people. "A safety plan."

"Yes! A short, memorable list of agreed upon actions in the case of emergent medical and/or emotional, um, turmoil."

"We never had a safety plan for you."

"Didn't we?"

"Fine, so you'll let me pass out wherever I drop and just leave a protein bar by my head so I don't die of hypoglycemic shock when I wake up two days later."

"That's all you did?"

"So I'll let you know if I'm not feeling well and up to whatever's going on." His expression is unreadable, which is rare. "What? You implied pretty heavily that you wanted me to."

Incomprehensibly, his expression becomes almost sad. "That's why you remain so closed off, because of my history of resistance to..."

"Okay, this conversation swerved past making sense. I tell you things all the time. This morning, with your cereal?"

"When *truly* bothered, you keep it to yourself and speak to no one, unless I draw it out of you."

"I speak up when I have something to say. And, I will."

"Have you considered cutting your hair?"

"I'm not getting chemo, Mom. I told you."

"I know. It's just so much to take care of. My cousin Darlene, she had radiation. It drained her. You'll be tired."

"You've always wanted me to cut my hair."

Her expression grows softer, more wistful. "I do like it shorter."

"I remember." Ruefully her entire catalogue of school photos scrolls through her memory. Mom's rule had been adamant and easy to follow: Never past the chin. "I'm not doing that again."

"Okay. Your choice."

Joan doesn't rise to the hint of passive-aggression.

A few hours later, she gets home from treatment, she takes a shower, and she tries to see tonight playing out in a possible near future. She adds imaginary weights to her wrists and ankles, and the almost unbearable weariness after watching a murderer get to go home scot-free.

"Fine," she tells her reflection.

She puts her mom on FaceTime, so she can see the results.

Her mom squints. "You didn't cut that much."

"Four inches." Just enough so she doesn't have to strain to get the brush through while she's blow drying.

“Hm.“

“Anyway, I’ll see you Thursday for tea, Mom?“

Lord save her from aspiring criminals who think they're too cool for the interrogation room. Anthony Raymond has been stonewalling them since Bell brought him in. What makes this especially annoying is he won't even ask for a lawyer. They'd tell him to spill his guts, or at least start negotiations for a deal. This nothingness isn't ideal when she has to take off for treatment soon. If she doesn't get this nut cracked before she goes, it'll be hanging over her head for the rest of the afternoon.

The door opens. Anthony doesn't move a muscle. Gregson enters bearing an extra-large fountain drink, a pen, and a piece of paper. He sits, thoughtfully configuring these objects around his immediate space. It takes a full thirty seconds, during which he doesn't acknowledge Anthony at all. He slides the paper toward Joan.

'Paige made you a smoothie. Not sure what's in this, but she swears by it.'

Joan glances at Anthony as though she learned something important, then looks back at the note. "Hm." She takes the pen. 'I'm good. Thank you both.'

'Holmes said you haven't really eaten yet.' He pushes the drink about an inch in her direction.

Joan makes two straight lines, one each for 'I'm' and 'Good'.

[perp eventually cracks because their note-passing is freaking him out]

[slightly later, joan brings the smoothie into gregson's office. he asks what she thought of it. she says "i didn't try it" and throws it in the garbage.]

It's Saturday, the end of her first week of treatment, and there aren't any murders. Joan texts the guy she liked from TrueRomantix, the one who came to check that she was safe when Everyone doxxed her and hacked her profile. He's still cute. She can't remember exactly why they didn't sleep together the last time, something about it not feeling right. Meanwhile he fosters seeing-eye dogs and he has the best pectorals she's ever seen.

She takes off her bra, but leaves the camisole. It's dark in his bedroom, but not too dark for either of them to see her scars or the semi-circle constellation of radiation tattoos. At one point she guides his hand underneath to her right breast. When he goes for the left, she distracts with a move that almost has his eyes bugging out of his head.

"Wow," he breathes.

When they're done, he doesn't push her to leave *or* ask her why she isn't staying. They'll be doing this again sometime.

[another patient in the waiting room at the radiation clinic starts having a medical emergency. joan immediately jumps forward to help and the patient's mom looks at her like who the fuck are you. it sticks with her the whole rest of the afternoon.]

She's been in a position where people have doubted her expertise before, many times. But never because she was meant to be on the other side. She's a patient, that's her role now.

Briefly she considers lying. The Uber app is acting weird, something like that. She settles on a simple, 'Are you busy?'

She gets her reply in less than thirty seconds. 'Need a ride?'

When Marcus arrives at the clinic, he touches her arm and kisses her cheek, a note of intimacy between close friends. It feels natural, even though his customary greeting, usually at crime scenes or the bull pen, is a brusquely friendly "Hey." They communicate mainly in nods and smiles intended only for each other, cups of coffee as close to the way they like it as limited resources will allow.

After they settle into the car, he doesn't turn the engine on right away. He waits, unobtrusively.

"I don't want to disrupt any plans you might've had for today," she says.

He lifts one shoulder. "Just a pickup game. Nothing I can't put off for another week."

"Actually..."

He turns his head. "Hm?"

She was warned not to expect anything fancy. No bleachers, not much crowd. Kids of varying ages drift by, many popping in and out of the tiny storefronts.

She can't remember the last time she simply existed in public when she wasn't jogging or staking out a criminal. The open air feels refreshing. Not one of these people care that she used to be a doctor.

After the first quarter, she asks to borrow the chair of a guy selling hats, scarves, and phone chargers from a folding table. He was spending most of his time at the halal cart talking to the man stuck inside anyway.

The chair is comfortable. The lighting tasteful. Joan's shoes feel fine. The mid-level exec at the other end of the table isn't stonewalling in the slightest. His voice could almost be called soothing.

All those other things aside, if this meeting doesn't end in the next few minutes she is going to jump out the window.

Her knee bouncing, she shifts her upper body in a way that's hopefully not that visible to anyone else. It doesn't help, in fact the resulting movement of her bra over her left boob makes her want to scream.

"We appreciate your elucidation on Mr. Wallach's movements last Tuesday." Joan nearly bites her lip at the growing light at the end of the tunnel. "Now if you could tell us about the lawsuit from three months ago. Sexual harassment, was it not?"

Joan gets to her feet with a repressed groan. Then she runs for the receptionist. "Restroom?"

She's just stepped inside the single stall and slid the lock into place when she hears the deathly urgent, "WATSON???"

She curses fluently inside her head and undoes the lock, just in case. "Sherlock! I'm o-"

And he's barreled through the open door.

"What the hell!" She pulls together the unbuttoned half of her shirt.

"I thought-" Over Sherlock's shoulder, a security guard starts coming into view. "What-what are you doing?"

"Sorry." Her face will probably remain this garish shade of red for...ever. "I'm, uh, peeling. Itch is driving me crazy."

He blinks, adrenaline making him shake slightly and keeping him from comprehending. "What?!"

"The only emergency right now is my imminent death by mortification." Her left hand tightly curled to protect her modesty, she makes a shooing motion with her right. "Go away."

He turns toward the door, then stops. "I've done the reading. If you have developed a rash, or the beginnings of dermatitis, scratching is highly inad-"

"OUT."

Lin greets her at the bar in her signature neurotically enthusiastic way. After tilting her head a little, she agrees to sit at a booth rather than stay near the bartender, where she loves to try out her charms to get free drinks for the two of them.

"I've never seen you go hard like this." She's waiting on the server to bring her second martini and Joan's third whiskey. "You look tired."

Joan waits until after the drinks have arrived. "Thanks, I had cancer."

"What?"

"Had," she repeats. "Had. As of yesterday, it's past tense. When I'm done with this course of radiation, I'll be free." She knocks on the table. "Until the follow-ups."

Lin gets up to go to the bathroom without a word. Joan downs her drink and orders another round. To Lin's credit, she beats the server back to the table.

"So those times you said you couldn't meet up because you had cases..."

"One, oncologist appointment and two, actually a case. Sorry."

"You told your brother, didn't you?"

Because Joan is three drinks in, she doesn't hold anything back from her eyeroll. Her siblings having no relationship with each other is not on her. "That's different."

"Because he's real."

"Because he lives two hundred miles away! I didn't have to see...that. That expression, in my face, all the time."

"You could've died and I would never have known you were sick."

Joan snorts. "I was never *dying*." There was that period between her biopsy and the results of her lumpectomy, when decades-old memories of various patients, poor souls fading in front of her eyes, resurfaced every hour. Lin didn't need to be there for that.

"Look." Joan kisses Lin noisily on the cheek. "I just got the best news of my life and I wanted MY SISTER here with to celebrate being Officially. Cancer. Free!"

A table of young men nearby let out a cheer. Lin smiles in spite of herself.

Joan wakes up naturally.

She spends a few minutes watching him. Many people say they'll sleep anywhere, but Sherlock actually will. And he never shows a single sign of stiffness or back pain. She envies him that, even as she acknowledges that she'd still prefer a bed, even if there were no consequences to sleeping on the floor.

"Is this just the first time I caught you?" Her voice is husky from sleep.

He springs to his feet. "Oh!" He runs off, returning no more than six minutes later with breakfast.

After placing the tray on the bed, he stands at her side, stiff and silent like a brooding Lurch. "What, no speech?" she teases.

He takes in a shaky breath. "It has been quite some time since I lost the ability to imagine a life without you in it. Gratitude isn't sufficient enough to describe how it feels to know this is a concern I can put off for another day."

"Oh, Sherlock."

"These past few weeks have been fraught, for you." She gives a start. This has taken an unexpected turn. "Full of pain and fear, the reopening of old wounds. You've conducted yourself so admirably. My respect for you, which had appeared to reach its zenith years ago, I find had untold heights yet to climb." He leans toward her, his hand cradling the back of her head while his lips press against her hairline.

He disengages, turning his back and she makes a tentative grab for his hand. He freezes in place, not resisting. "I love you, too," she says thickly, shoving aside tears.

Joan doesn't remember having done anything remotely admirable. She's been tired and snappish, she forced everyone to cater to her, she stopped doing her fair share of the work. The one person she tried to help didn't need her. It's been weeks since she felt like she existed for any worthwhile reason.

Maybe that's why it's good to see herself through his eyes, just this once. She squeezes his hand, then quickly lets go, taking pity on him. Plucking the cloth napkin from the tray and pressing it against her eyes, she laughs. "So this was your plan for my last day? Get my face all blotchy just in time to go in there and say goodbye to all those people?"

"What does it matter? You'll never see them again.

#elementary #elementary fic #it's a rough wip be warned!#my writing #things by beanarie #amindamazed #replies

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gg-astrology · 5 years

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Can you do Kai ideal type post? I've recently got into exo after this dating thing and I have the biggest crushes on Kai and chanyeol

Hey there! 💕 Aaaah I haven’t even done his outline yet!! I hope you don’t mind if we take some time to talk about them (individually) first?? 💕💕I usually can’t go straight into ‘ideal’ placements until I look at their charts ksdjnfksn so this makes sense to me ;; 💕💕 (and also Im glad u got into them after the dating thing!! 💕 They’ll need support now more than ever!! 💕💕 Im happy for u AND them!! 💕💕)

[Below Cut: Brief Outlook for Kim Jongin (Kai) and Park Chanyeol ]

Note: Since this is an ‘outlook’ this is just my first impression, some things can be flushed out but we’ll save those for an actual ‘overview’!

I’m going to start with Jongin first before we go into Chanyeol ok?

Phew, having so many placement in Capricorn and Aquarius makes it easier for me since they can be conjunctions to each other (and he has plenty!)

First of all— With Capricorn/Aquarius there’s a lot of stubbornness, but also argumentative energy there. High moral and collective consciousness, often someone who isn’t afraid to counter-back at others (regardless of age/difference) if they think they are ‘close-minded’ or ‘hurting’ others (they protecctive)

These people learn from experience, or ‘exposure’ to such things. Aquarius Moon makes the person likes to explore many different culture/types of people to keep themselves being ‘open-minded’— they like to have the bigger perspective first, before they make a direction on something

They also have great intuition like ‘this isn’t right’ – usually it has to do with moral/ethical stuff, it’s like they can ‘feel’ if other people are going to be hurt by it. These people are incredibly in-tuned to the others/collective and thus– they can be great representative in the world (like a spokesperson/ambassador for something humanitarian is great for them)

This humanitarian aspect is especially prominent especially since he has his Sun-Venus/Sun-Mercury conjunct to each other.

This makes for a person who is in control of himself (his Mercury/Venus is before his Sun – going by the angles for the unknown time anyways*can be inaccurate, his Venus/Mercury may be ‘Burned’ and therefore– his Mind/Heart are usually put forward in an objective way in order to manifest his ‘Sun’)

He may however, have a hard time expressing his emotions/affection in a way that’s truly heart-felt and sincere (the kind of ‘feeling’ emotions and not ones he’s already familiar with) – with Capricorn/Aquarius people, they often ‘get better’ at expressing their emotions more openly as they ‘familiarize’ themselves with the intimacy/how they should express it outward.

*Doesn’t mean it’s not honest when they do, it’s just that they’d like to have control and time to prepare. So it’s like, he can get easily embarrassed when he’s not used to heart-felt intimacy/something from the heart of others. He can listen sincerely, but giving back (feed back) is a lil bit awkward and hard if it’s not automated/he hasn’t had time to prepare.

I hope this makes sense? Like having Capricorn/Aquarius doesn’t make you ‘detached’ or ‘controlling’ or all that hard ish, it just means they’re a lil bit more cautious and may need more time/stability before they engage/function.

Another thing that points to him being a lil more proactive is definitely his Capricorn Mars and aspects to it (conjunct Sun/Venus/Uranus/Neptune) — this talks about his tolerance, patience and stability. Especially with Moon-conjunct-Saturn, he may have more maturity for his age (emotionally) and be more ‘in-control’ than others around him

It’s just– interesting with Jongin because he has so many personal aspects with Uranus/Neptune (Sun/Mercury/Venus/Mars/Pluto) which points to an imaginative, creative and ‘under-dog’ type of character.

Like he stands up for people, can’t control his mouth about it but also has social grace, the vitality (genuinity) and do things for charity. His mind, mouth, heart and body aligns with make changes for people. It’s largely a part of his driving force.

**Given that it may be pretty common for people who are born during his birthday period to have conjunctions like this too (since Uranus/Neptune moves suuuuper slowly)– it’s just interesting to see it in an idol’s chart so prominently. Like how they function/their main driving force y know?

It also it makes his Moon stuff a lil more prominent. Jongin has his Moon-square-Pluto (as well as Saturn squaring his Pluto) – making him resistance to change, stubborn/confrontational if he’s not careful, a lil more narrow-hearted than he realized he is. Often these people can lead themselves to close themselves off from others even when they acknowledge that the change is necessary and good for them. A lil huffy.

And with Saturn-square-Pluto, anything that is seen as ‘threatening’ his stability/foundation (sometimes his narrow-mindedness/egoistic part sometimes) –he can close himself off from it. This is like– not a very good ‘stubbornness’ for him since it makes him take less chances/open-up to others. It can make him ‘selective’ or ‘hypocritical’ when he tries to help others, because he won’t accept help/constructive criticism back on his belief/methods sometimes.

Most of his chart is in sextile or conjunction, which bode for someone who may have a lil problem ‘breaking out’ of themselves or breaking away from themselves a lil.

With Capricorn/Aquarius it has to do with point of view, a lil more about perspective and changing habits (bc of their strong moral principality/belief in themselves).

Since these people can be very traditional despite also being unconventional. They may – unnecessarily impose their ideas/views or judge others because they may feel uncomfortable around more ‘flexible’ changes around them. It’ll take time, and open-minded-ness from others to make their ‘pessimist’ into a lil more optimistic attitude.

And then we have Park Chanyeol!

First of all Chanyeol— has his Sagittarius Sun sextile Libra Jupiter.

Jupiter makes everything big, and in aspect to his Sun it makes his personality/core-self big as well. He has a big heart, a big love/thirst for learning for travelling for experience. Sagittarius Sun likes the Libra’s analytical nature, likes it’s diplomacy and fairness. This becomes an integral part of his personality and although he may seem joking/jokester– he’s actually a rather fair and mediating presence within the team.

HIs Moon/Venus however is square to Jupiter (Capricorn-Libra) – thus, sometimes he may overspill his emotions into his relationships with others. Overshare or disregard other people’s perspective/point of view when he’s ‘too much’ into his own problems (can be dismissive, caring one moment uncaring the next)

But this is generally appeased by his Moon/Venus conjunct— loves people, but may have a harder time showing it unless he’s going about it ‘officially’ (like courting them, step by step)

He can sometimes be shy– as most Capricorn Venus people are, his own emotions may be oblivious to him. Often ‘knowing’ isn’t the same as ‘feeling’ what emotions are. And his Cancer Mars only makes him aware of it when it’s built up, when it’s been there for a while which is why he makes ‘emotional releases’ from it (has to learn a lil more self-control maybe to work with this Capricorn)

His Mercury/Venus is conjunct to his Uranus/Neptune – making for someone who is intuitively creative, day-dreams, can pull his thoughts into vision and is good at talking/thinking -> applying it to real life (physicality – Mercury-trine-Mars) and sharing his product with others (Venus- social relationships, so music that touches others or has ‘feedback’ in them is crucial to him especially since he’d want recognition/admiration for it)

He thrives with challenges, especially one to do with blockage of the mind. To him, mental blockage are better because he can confront/work through it and ‘get’ what he needs from it (transform himself mentally) Mercury-Pluto conjunct and then Mars-trine-Pluto – making him thrive when its time to take action

In a way with Chanyeol— he may be more prepared for hardship/challenges than good thing to him to him. His conjunct/aspects to Pluto makes for a personality that does best/feels most alive when they are progressing, when they are moving forward in life (Scorpio Mercury/Capricorn Venus - aspects to Pluto) rather than be ‘stuck’ and stagnant analyzing their own self.

This is why even though he has a ‘big’ personality because of the Sun-Jupiter graces, he may often have a humble view of Jupiter. He doesn’t rely on it’s graces to shower on him all the time, for everyone to understand his Moon/Venus (the inner parts of him)– thus, he may focus more on manifestation of his work, to prove himself instead (Mars aspect)

Anyways this is my short brief take on it! 💕💕💕

Thanks for being interested and sending the ask in!! ;; 💕💕 I hope this is just as good as an ‘ideal type’ skdjnfksdjn 💕

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bongaboi · 4 years

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Florida: 2019 Orange Bowl Champions

The Orange Bowl between No. 9 Florida and No. 24 Virginia may not have been the most anticipated New Year's Six game when it was announced. However, it turned into an entertaining game of back-and-forth momentum swings with a little Las Vegas drama at the end to boot. Ultimately, the Gators walked away winners with a 36-28 final score. The victory moves Florida to 4-0 in the Orange Bowl all-time and gives it an 11-win season for the first time since 2012.

Monday night was also the Gators' best bowl performance of the decade offensively. They finished 549 yards of offense, the most since the 2010 Sugar Bowl against Cincinnati -- Tim Tebow's final game. Additionally, it gives Florida consecutive BCS/New Year's Six bowl wins for the first time in a decade (2008-09), making coach Dan Mullen the first coach in history to accomplish that task in his first two years at a school.

It also puts the team at 21-5 in two seasons under coach Mullen. Only Urban Meyer had a better record in his initial back-to-back seasons in Gainesville, Florida.

"Just under a year ago, this team was born, and we talked about going from four wins to 10 wins was special, but to go from 10 wins to 11 is going to be a lot harder, and those guys bought into it," Mullen said after the game. "They started working last January, and they worked, they grinded all season long in everything that they did. ... A couple years ago, this senior class, a new coach got brought in and we told them, 'Hey, if you buy into what we're doing, just buy into what we're doing, believe we're going to be successful.' They've done that, they've bought in. Back-to-back 10-win seasons, back-to-back top-10 teams, back-to-back New Year's Six bowl victories. They've bought in, and they've restored that Gator standard, and they get to walk out the door knowing they've restored the Gator standard to what it is, building that foundation of a team."

Gators quarterback Kyle Trask, who was tremendous in place of Feleipe Franks this season, was a little shaky in the game, completing 24 of 39 passes for 305 yards, a touchdown to running back Lamical Perine and an interception; Trask also nearly fumbled the ball, but the play was not overturned on review. Trask's numbers weren't necessarily bad, but a lot of his downfield throws were erratic. It was a good thing for the Gators to have a more reliable weapon in Perine.

"I think this win is huge for this program, not only for the program but also this team and the seniors that bought in when Coach Mullen first got here from Day 1," Trask said. "They worked day in and day out, and as far as my season went, I couldn't be more happy the way that my teammates had my back when I won versus Kentucky, and we just continued to grind every single week and get better each and every single week and here we are winning the Orange Bowl. That's pretty incredible."

While the game was close at times, the only real drama of the night came at the end when the game was pretty much in hand. With under a minute remaining, the Wahoos attempted a trick play by passing to an offensive lineman for a score. The play was called back, though, as an illegal forward pass. Still, Virginia scored two plays later, and while it didn't get the win, it secured the cover.

Here's what else we learned from Monday's Orange Bowl.

1. The Gators decided to run, and Perine was unstoppable: Three of Florida's four touchdowns on the evening came from Perine, a valued senior who totaled 181 yards on 18 touches -- just about 10 yards per touch -- and three touchdowns to receive Most Valuable Player honors. Perine has long been one of the most underrated (and perhaps underutilized) parts of Florida's offense, and he was absolutely untouchable against the Hoos on Monday night running for a career-high 138 yards with 43 more in the passing game. Who knows where Perine will go during the NFL Draft weekend. He may not hear his name called for a while. But he's one of those players who probably meant more to his offense than the stats indicated. He accomplished all of this behind a Gators offensive line that struggled mightily throughout the season, unable to create holes for its rushers. It appeared to step up as well.

2. Florida's defense turned it on for a short while: The first 30 minutes of the Orange Bowl was like a tennis match. Each team was volleying points back and forth waiting to see who would blink first. For a vaunted Florida defense, that didn't seem ideal. However, credit the Gators for drawing up some good halftime adjustments and having a bigger impact in the second half. The pass rush was good most of the night but certainly more effective both on and off the stat sheet in the third and fourth quarters. Florida finished with three sacks, five tackles for loss and two quarterback hurries. Virginia countered Florida's defensive front in the first half with quick passes and a moving pocket with successful results. UVA QB Bryce Perkins even made a few incredible individual plays in the face of that rush. But when it needed stops and negative plays, Florida came through and built a large enough lead that it was able to hang on to a lead late. However, it did ultimately give up 375 yards of total offense, including Perkins' best passing game.

"I'm looking at what they've got coming back. ... I'm excited. I mean, this is only just the beginning of it, honestly," said graduate transfer Jon Greenard, who showed out in his final game. "Last year was a little taste of it. We keep building. We got 11 wins, which is really difficult. So next year, a couple plays this year and we would've been right where we wanted. Next year, they are just going to capitalize off of that, understand where we were this past year, and national championship in my eyes. So we've got that in our eyes now."

3. Perkins will be missed at Virginia: The Hoos' signal caller will be an interesting late-round/undrafted prospect, but there's no denying what he's meant to this program. It took him all 60 minutes, but he broke the school's record for total offense career with 7,910 yards. The mark was previously held by quarterback Shawn Moore. That's pretty incredible in and of itself, but even more so when you consider all the problems Virginia had up front this season. For Perkins to be able to rack up yards running and throwing, usually in the face of pressure, says a lot about his playmaking ability. He didn't have a perfect night against Florida -- he missed a couple of surefire touchdowns that he'd love to have back -- but he also did things like this on his way to 323 yards passing with four touchdowns and an interception.

4. This is why conference tie-ins should be removed: Virginia played hard, gave Florida a game and has nothing to be ashamed about, but let's be honest: a four-loss team shouldn't be playing in a New Year's Six game. Conference tie-ins don't always produce bad matchups in these major bowl games, but in a year like this one when the ACC was average at best, you get this type of result. It wasn't bad, per se, but it could have been a lot better. So what's the solution? Ditch the tie-ins and use the College Football Playoff Rankings to help determine the games? It's interesting that there's so much disdain for the CFP Selection Committee in terms of their selection criteria for the field of four, because you could actually make an argument their process would be better suited for drumming up interesting matchups in these games without being held back by conference tie-ins.

#2019 #college football #bowl season #florida gators #orange bowl #new year's six

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advernia · 5 years

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fic: a shout-out to extraterrestrials

— he points up to the vast sky with its full moon and its glittering stars and says, why does everything up there seem to want to take you away from me? - ace of spades/alice the second.

It isn’t much, but one of the Ace of Spades’ ideal date plans involved sneaking into the highest building in Black Territory at midnight and go stargazing on its rooftop: an exhilarating view from any direction one would choose to look, a refreshing breeze and no one else in sight, a mat to sit on with a picnic basket set aside for good measure, and most of all, the woman he loved sitting beside him; the warmth of her body leaning on his own ten times warmer and comfortable than a blanket wrapped around their shoulders.

Highest building in Black Territory? The Godspeed Company’s main factory. Alice the Second points out that the ‘sneaking in’ may not be necessary at all considering who he is, but he winks at her and tells her that it makes things more exciting.

She blinks for a moment before laughing, placing her hand in his.

They start talking a little later after they’ve settled down on an inconspicuous spot on the factory rooftop and snuggled into what she recalls to be one of Seth’s fluffy blankets.

She points to the night sky, to the full moon shining up high - she says that in the Land of Reason; there were the sun and the moon, the stars, and a whole galaxy with other planets beyond human reach.

He honestly can’t wrap his head around it, the term planets or galaxy. But she is kind as she is patient, and she’s willing to run him down on what she knows - that is, if he was interested enough to hear about it.

He kisses her forehead and says yes, of course. He wasn’t one for studying the stars or the sky - it’s called astrology, she says - but he’s admittedly interested in hearing about territories no one has ever reached before, lands vast and completely different from his own.

And so she continues her astrology lecture: she starts with the planet Earth, or what he eventually understood to be the Land of Reason as a whole - the place London where she came from was just a small part of the Land of Reason itself, and he’s amazed by the fact that the Land of Reason was actually bigger than he initially perceived it to be.

His fascination might have rubbed off her, because from that point on she started talking like a young child weaving a fantasy tale - her voice was filled with both vigor and wonder and occasionally she would match her words with a representative action: a large sweep of her hand over the sky to illustrate wide, the rapid opening and closing of her hands symbolize sparkling, her showing him her open palm and pretending that it was a map, so on and so forth.

He’s sure that maybe half of the things she’s saying might go over his head, but listening to the sheer joy in her voice as she spoke was definitely worth it.

She called them extraterrestrials - or aliens, to make it easier on the tongue.

Those things were apparently some sort of life forms that are assumed to live in other planets besides the Earth: they looked nothing like humans and were also nothing like humans and that has him wondering about them, even if she just said that no one’s ever so sure if they actually exist. However, there were strange phenomena in her world such as the sudden abduction of farm animals, appearance of weird symbols imprinted on fields of wheat overnight, and sightings of strange saucer-like shapes flying in the sky that had people wondering if there really were something living out there, beyond that sky, beyond their space.

And with a touch of curiousity in her voice, she says, I wonder - are they over here, in Cradle, too?

She raises her hand over her head and towards the sky, palm wide open and fingers outstretched as far as they can go; seemingly trying to reach for the unknown.

He mimics her and brings his hand up too, but instead of reaching for the sky they reach for her hand; his larger fingers filling in the spaces in between her own fingers and lacing themselves in, the tips of his fingers gently grasping her palm. She turns her head to look at him when he raises his free hand, a finger pointing up at the vast sky.

There lay the numerous stars that actually formed shapes if you looked close enough, or constellations, as she called them. There also laid a moon - one of the many moons across the so-called galaxy, but the moon the both of them were looking at now was Cradle's moon; the very moon that brought her to his world and the very moon that also took her away from him once.

As for what laid beyond Cradle's skies, beyond its moon?

He didn't have a clue.

So instead, he just points up to the full moon surrounded by the glittering stars and says with a lilt in his voice -

Why does everything up there seem to want to take you away from me?

She chuckles softly at that, her outstretched fingers coming down to rest on his. They hold tightly, but squeeze lightly.

Aliens aren't real.

But you're wondering if they are, here in Cradle, aren't ya?

He turns his head to face her now, and their eyes meet: hers shine differently under the moonlight, giving it a tranquil touch to their blue hue that has him entranced, just as how the smile she gives him as she planted a light kiss on his cheek had.

... You'll come for me if I get abducted, right?

She's about to pull away, but his hand that points at the sky comes down to wrap around the back of her head, keeping her in place as he moved closer to rest his forehead against hers.

I won't even let 'em. Remember what I told you back then?

She's about to ask what he means by back then, but his lips have already found hers, the hand on the back of her head gently tugging at her hair to pull her even closer, to have him taste her even deeper.

And just like that the sky, the stars, the moon, the galaxy, the aliens - didn't matter any longer.

You're mine, and I'm keeping you - forever.

1: concept - if fenrir’s scared of ghosts... then what does he think of aliens??? probably not scared, since they’re... tangible??? who knows. is fenrir or mc even interested in space??? does mc count as an alien since she literally fell from space??? idk either, but the thought of them stargazing is pretty cute imo ( ᐛ )و 2: last line is actual main route dialogue - fenrir’s an okay dude to me, i guess??? i do like his bubbly enthusiasm, which made me realize that most of the ikerev cast aren’t exactly... sunshine and rainbows, lol. they’re a toss of either brooding, calm, or stepford smilers with a touch of dark & troubled past, oh my. 3: going with that, the only ones who don’t fit into those categories are fenrir (who’s an actual ball of sunshine, bless), jonah (the honorable haughty), and oliver (who snarks enough for the whole cast). i’m not counting in mousse & the tweedles, bc man while i do want to learn about them that means i have to brush up again on my jp, lol - and i don't exactly have enough time for that, i cry （ ; ; ）

#ikemen kakumei #ikemen revolution #ikerev fanfic #fenrir godspeed #ikerev alice

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ofnicole · 5 years

Text

( VIRGINIA GARDNER. 24. CIS FEMALE. SHE / HER. ) ❛ nicole potter, a gemini from vancouver, bc, canada, moved into holloway five years ago. they are an information technology intern that lives in apartment 4d and their neighbors don’t particularly mind them. some say they can be uninhibited and inquisitive but others say they’re versatile and epigrammatic. anyways, one thing is for sure: you hear september rose by cailin russo, it’s nic blasting it. ( penned by CAJE , 21+ , AST. )

good evening hunnies !! my name’s caje, thank u for coming to my Caje Chat asdfdg listen i don’t have discord bc i’m a literal grandma when it comes to keeping up with all the new means of messaging oops so if u would like to chat and/or plot?? just shoot me an im on here — i’m always mobile & i obviously love to talk a lot ! and i’m a heaux for dramatic / angst-fuelled plots .. just a lil fyi … i’m excited !! so anyway !!! onto the wench you’re actually here to read about; my darling nicole.

( &&. GENERAL INFORMATION )

full name: nicole theresa potter

preferred name: nic

current age: twenty four

preferred pronouns: she/her

gender identity: cis female

romantic & sexual orientation: demiromantic & homoflexible

marital status: single

zodiac sign: gemini

moral alignment: chaotic neutral

language(s) spoken: english, broken french

occupation: scammer; acting as a cam girl, & it intern

current residence: room 4d in the holloway apartment complex

( &&. PHYSICAL APPEARANCE )

looks like: virginia gardner

height: 5′8″

weight: 120 lbs

hair color: blonde

eye color: blue

tattoo(s): small black rose behind right ear

scar(s): n/a

dominant hand: right handed

distinguishing features: catlike eyes, bright smile

( &&. PERSONALITY )

positive traits: versatile, epigrammatic, intuitive

negative traits: uninhibited, inquisitive, headstrong

are they generally dominant or submissive?: both, depending

emotional, logical or both: emotional

book smart or street smart: both

are they more introvert or extrovert: in between, a little more extrovert

optimist or pessimist: both

spontaneous or structured: spontaneous

instinctual or logical: instinctual

expensive or inexpensive: inexpensive

generous or stingy: generous

polite or rude: polite … but initially comes off rude bc she’s blunt

are they a day or a night person: night

( &&. MISCELLANEOUS )

do they have a fake id?: no, but she used to

are they a lightweight?: no

are they a virgin?: no

are they squeamish?: no

what can you always find in their pockets/wallet/purse/bag: her phone, loose change, raspberry chapstick, lighter or matches, and her keys

place(s) your character can almost always be found: her shared apartment, the company office she works at in the city, any of the various clubs around nyc, all the 24hr breakfast diners.

( &&. BACKGROUND )

a vancouver native, her mother died giving birth to nicole, so the only family she’s known her whole life are her siblings, who she’s fiercely protective of, and the father she refuses to have any sort of authentic relationship with due to his sporadic absences. just a few months after her thirteenth birthday, papa potter up and moved their small family across the continent to a trailer park in california, where he left them at unannounced times to fend for themselves. while it wasn’t an ideal situation by any means, in a way it gave nicole purpose; taking care of herself and helping take care of her siblings as she matured. not to mention the added responsibility they all shared in paying rent and surviving in general.

while she picked up the odd job at a convenience store or gas station as a teenager, the eldest potter girl had a fascination with the dark web. at a young age, she was incredibly adept with programming and knowing the innards of computers in general, and the internet was like her playground. it started off very innocent, scamming people across the globe to deposit money into her account ( whether it be out of pity, infatuation, or sheer stupidity ). but after toying with malware and developing her own cryptic coding techniques over the years, nicole became something of a little hacker, which is now her main source of income for the family. posing as a cam girl, she coaxes the information needed out of her ‘ clientele ’ before springing an unforeseen attack on them. she doesn’t completely drain their accounts ( unless they’re disgusting pigs and she’s feeling spiteful ), but she certainly walks away with a large chunk from their savings.

in school, she did absolutely stellar with her grades but “didn’t fully apply herself” according to the majority of her teachers, who frankly weren’t incorrect. nicole didn’t give a shit about her education, deeming high school as a ploy to train young minds to live by the same routine, day in and day out, once they graduated and moved onto the real world. however, despite her practiced skill in technological stealth, she couldn’t exactly bring in all this money without everyone in her small neighbourhood growing suspicious of the formerly poor potter’s newly formed middle class wealth.

sO homegirl ended up applying to university anyway, getting accepted into nyu with a computer science major. she packed up her shit at the age of nineteen and moved across the country into the apartment complex she’s now been residing in for a little over five years. of course, nicole still pulls some trickery online with her faux cam girl stunt, but she’s genuinely enjoying school and the internship awarded through her program’s work placement.

SHE LOVES TO GO CLUBBING PLS. like yes she’s nerdy as all hell but she isn’t ur classic tech-savvy introvert ok. she’s a smart cookie who loves to get her party on aka the best of both worlds woo

that’s all i have so onto:

( &&. WANTED CONNECTIONS )

platonic ; childhood pals, best friends, ride or die gal who’s also in on her scamming cam girl shit, fellow scammer(s), clubbing pals, enemies turned pals, drinking pals, bad influences, good influences, pals turned enemies, petty rivals, toxic pals, etc.

romantic ; high school girlfriend / first love, a boy she dated in middle school and/or freshman year of high school before coming to terms with her sexuality, ex girlfriend(s), one night stand(s), friends/enemies with benefits ( former or current ), flirty pals, cruses ( unrequited or mutual ), anything toxic / angsty pls

#hollowayintro.#this is .... Absolute shit but uh #hi <3 love her <33

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obeetlebeetle · 5 years

Note

Do all the dnd asks!

1. A favorite character you have played.

done!

2. Your favorite character that someone else has played.

o my god.. this is so hard, my group makes really good characters! for each of them:zach - nickels!! trauma child kenku weirdo who sold their soul to talk.. who grew up to be an angry pirate who adopted a child on impulse.ari - lael, obviously. they have a half-elf complex, a good chunk of their personality is being the kid that catches lizards, and they have a robot arm.lemon - honestly? jj devinyl. i mean, john mulaney as a tiefling cleric who loves his wife and is also going completely insane? yeah.bree - i.. love layla. she’s a good-aligned cleric to an evil god and her and kellan are the cutest couple in dnd tbh.connor - guardian is a robot.

3. Your favorite side quest.

o fuck!! y’all.. it’s bufo. it’s the fact that my talking toad npc was so lovable that they unlocked the quest in which his mother hunts him down and tries to kill him so that she can live forever. they killed her ofc and bufo was untransformed into a handsome.. halfling.

4. Your current campaign.

i’m running a murder mystery set aboard an airship! with strong cosmic horror elements! and i’m playing in a large-scale epic about spies caught up in the very start of a continent-wide war.

5. Favorite NPC.

also a very hard question. on one hand, jean is my actual boyfriend and also a literal angel assassin. on the other hand, nika is a child god trapped in an amulet whose super god power makes people trip which is so fucking funny. back around to the first hand, which is now the third, aengus is so well-done as a villain that he’s almost scared me in my real-life actual heart and yet he’s an a huge loser with breakup trauma, which is objectively also so fucking funny. on my fourth hand, fela is my most important npc who i’m probably in love with and she’s been in every one of my campaigns. on my FIFTH hand--

6. Favorite death (monster, player character, NPC, etc).

done!

7. Your favorite downtime activity.

done!

8. Your favorite fight/encounter.

that time nasuada beat lumley up in her own dumb-ass head, and lumley’s response was to find this super hot.

9. Your favorite thing about D&D.

getting together and spending time with my friends! or maybe that it lets me be creative without the stress writing gives me.

10. Your favorite enemy and the enemy you hate the most.

fav enemy is def aengus!! like wow he’s fucking terrifying!! and i hate yin&yang the most, they were so creepy and cruel and they were never really punished.

11. How often do you play and how often would you ideally like to play?

i dm once a week these days, and i play sporadically. thesis year has been hard on me! but ideally i would love to dm twice a week and play in one or two steady campaigns, or dm once a week with regular one-shot sessions!

12. Your in game inside jokes/memes/catchphrases and where they came from.

o.. there’s a lot?? my favorite is “honeyclaw pissed on lenthol” bc our barbarian thought it would be a good idea to climb into the robot piloted by the “big bad” (or so we thought at the time), and then to sell her bluff that she was looking for the bathroom, she just...... pissed herself >:(

13. Introduce your current party.

as a dm: lael (half-elf magitechnician who bases their mad science off of cool bugs); guardian (robot paladin on his third life, basically robocop with light existential crises); senhora (brash and kind-hearted by turns, an elf who [REDACTED] before becoming a ranger and bonding w a wolf); jj devinyl (a tiefling cleric who does stand-up comedy and loves his wife); and percy (an android with identity issues, driven by curiosity, and love for magic, and literally no qualms about threatening to kill her friends).

as a player:rowan (the last prince of a lost kingdom and also the saddest, gayest boy in town); ko&kokumo (my elf boy whose soul split in two after leaving his warlock patron, driven by nosiness and romance respectively); honeyclaw (a tabaxi pro-wrestler who deserted her life as a child soldier, pissed on lenthol); peitho (the surprisingly wholesome god of sex, was kinda into the tactics of being a spy before he got distracted by p*ssy); and lumley (the dumbest baby lesbian ever o my god, she’s the daughter of a powerful river goddess and she still can’t get a date).

14. Introduce any other parties you have played in or DM-ed.

that would take me one million years.

15. Do you have snacks during game times?

yeah!! traditionally we take a halfway break at 9 and all go get snacks together, it’s great.

16. Do you play online or in person? Which do you prefer?

i prefer in person, but we play online a lot, and we’ll have to be only online once we graduate.

17. What are some house rules that your group has?

we round up score mods from odds and we don’t pay attention to like.. most of the little rules. it’s more abt the storytelling. (which is why we may switch to a different system if i can seduce them away.)

18. Does your party keep any pets?

o yeah, i think almost every group has had an animal companion. and if not, zach always plays a furry.

19. Do you or your party have any dice superstitions?

a lot of us roll specific sets for each character!

20. How did you get into D&D? How long have you been playing?

i got into dnd in high school bc i liked a boy who watched community, and then i watched community, and the dnd episode fucking rocked. never got past making characters and one botched attempt at a session. then in my first year of college, i joined the dnd club and i’ve been playing since! so like, three years and some change.

21. Have you ever regretted something your character has done?

ya lol i play very much how my character would act and tho that usually goes well for me.. ko wanted to break his pact with aengus despite the Consequences and i didn’t. but overall i think the outcome has been a lot of fun!

22. What color was your first dragon?

silver! just introduced them, actually!

23. Do you use premade modules or original campaigns?

all original, baby.

24. How much planning/preparation do you do for a game?

a ton. as a dm i write........ a lot. i want to have a lot of vivid characters, solid plots, and a huge interwoven world. so my docs are always huge and take me months to finish.

as a player i do less bc players just inherently have far less to do. but i still try put a ton into really developing my character so i can play them more naturally.

For DMs

25. What have your players done that you never could have planned for?

in my first campaign, i used a lot of weird memory spells to keep characters from remembering the big bad, because him being unremembered was a HUGE plot point for me. i had two different groups playing in the city at the same time, and one of them.... had this dragonborn who just liked to talk to plants and who hated nobles, and who fucking cast MAGIC MOUTH on their FANNY PACK to record that big bad so that it COULDN’T BE FORGOTTEN. MAGIC MOUTH. THAT’S THE SPELL THAT BROKE ME.

26. What was your favorite scene to write and show your characters.

i’ve really liked a couple, but i know i haven’t topped the finale for my first campaign. after finally the groups finally came together and killed Shargaas, the city began to crumble around them, and they all watched me set a ten-minute timer for them to figure out how to get away with their lives.

27. Do you allow homebrew content?

o yea, i adore MFOV particularly.

28. How often do you use NPCs in a party?

o there are always a couple kicking around.

29. Do you prefer RP heavy sessions or combat sessions?

we don’t really.. do... that second thing....

30. Are your players diplomatic or murder hobos?

yes.

For Players

31. What is your favorite class? Favorite race?

o fuck. uh probably wizard. and i love................. half-elves.

32. What role do you like to play the most? (Tank/healer/etc?)

i really like long-distance damage dealers.

33. How do you write your backstory, or do you even write a backstory?

i always start with a concept and then i just write an entire novel ell em ay oh.

34. Do you tend pick weapons/spells for being useful or for flavor?

done!

35. How much roleplay do you like to do?

like, 70% rp, 30% jokes,

#shadiekid

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darthkylorevan · 6 years

Note

Clydeland 90: remember when we were little

“building bridges”-rated t, 1.7k, read on ao3 here!

(please note that this is a sort of sequel to sstensland’s clydeland ficlet here, please read that to get a sense of what’s going on; it isn’t a complete sequel bc i change some small things but otherwise it is)

“Remember when we were little?”

The words were accidental; Stensland hadn’t meant to let them out, still laying in Clyde’s bed (he tried not to think of how it had been their bed, before) not ready to leave just yet, even though he should, even though he should have a whole life ahead of him, one that didn’t include Clyde. Yet here he was.

“Hm?” Clyde shifted next to him, just slightly closer. Stens tried not to pay attention to the points of contact between them, to the heat from skin on skin.

“When we were little.” He turned on his side, against his better judgment, to look at the man next to him. He only just managed to not reach over, to run his hands along his jaw, his neck, his shoulders. He shouldn’t want that, couldn’t want that. This was...this wasn’t supposed to have happened in the first place, but it had, and he couldn’t take it back.

Clyde smiled at him softly, softer than he deserved. “We did a lot of things when we were little.”

A wry smile. Stensland couldn’t deny the truth, however. They’d known each other since elementary school, silent Clyde protecting him from the older kids that wanted to pick on him for his looks, his accent. They’d been inseparable since. The best of friends to high school sweethearts; no one would have ever guessed they would end up like this, just short of divorce.

And here he was, back in Clyde’s bed again, unable to resist him like he always had been.

“When we’d go to the bridge.”

Stensland felt a hand brush along his side, fingers tracing the line of his waist down to his hips. He tried--and failed--to hold in a shiver at the touch, at the gentle way Clyde looked at him, like he used to when they were in high school, in college, before this mess, before he ran. He’d believed he’d never see that look again and yet…

Clyde grinned at him, that large, lazy grin that always had his heart beating a little faster. “When I’d drag you out of school with me to go there, you mean.”

“Does it really count as dragging when I went willingly?”

Stensland tried to look put out when Clyde only laughed at him, but he knew the truth, which was that he wasn't entirely willing to leave the school on their nearly monthly trips to the New River Gorge Bridge. They didn’t always skip school to go, but it was often enough he’d always been sure the administration had noticed their simultaneous absence, sure their parents knew. Nobody had ever said anything, though; had just let them be.

He let Clyde pull him closer, cheek pressed against his shoulder, a hand still running along his side. Stens almost hated how much he missed this, missed him. He shouldn’t want to stay in the bed forever, comfortably nestled at Clyde’s side; he had a life out there, away from him, away from West Virginia. And Clyde...well, Clyde deserved better than him, better than the pathetic person he’d become even when he had left to become a better person. Instead, he’d quickly fallen right back into the comfort of Clyde’s arms, unable to resist him, even after all these years away.

“What made you think of the bridge?” Stens loved his low voice, the way he said each word carefully, his easy accent. He’d always envied him that southern accent, the soft lilt easy to the ears, perfectly encapsulating the southern ideal of hospitality and sweetened iced tea. His own accent was awkward and misplaced comparatively.

“Just...this. When we went there, it was just us. Us versus the world.” His words were soft as a finger trailed circular shapes into Clyde’s collarbone, not daring to look up at him, not knowing--or more accurately not wanting to face--what he would find there. “We were so far up from the river, it was like we were invincible. Nothing could ever touch us. It felt like it was just us, forever. That was what this felt like. It was...you were….everything.”

He wanted to bury himself into the bed and not come out. This wasn’t...none of this was how anything was supposed to go, and here he was, digging a deeper hole for himself the moment he’d started talking again.

“Stens…”

“But then we had to walk back home, Clyde, face the world again. It’s...we can’t do this. I...had, no, I have something beyond here.”

“Beyond us.” It wasn’t a question; Stensland nearly flinched at the implications.

“I...no...yes. But, Clyde, it...it was never about you. Not like that. I didn’t…” He turned then, not able to face him, not able to take in the comfort being freely offered. Instead he faced the walls, still that horrible yellow he’d always complained about. “I didn’t want you to feel like you had to leave here, leave your home, just to follow my stupid dreams, it would be unf--”

Stensland’s words were cut off with a squeak as Clyde was suddenly looming over him, knees bracketing his hips as he had, perhaps by a sort of instinct, moved so his back was on the mattress once more. There was now nowhere he could look without feeling like he was losing; his gaze anywhere would be obvious. Resigned to his fate, he looked up into Clyde’s eyes, feeling that pang of hurt and regret with the expression he found there, with how his gaze bored into him.

“Clyde,” he whispered, feeling like he couldn’t--he shouldn’t-- raise his voice above it in that moment, like if he did, he would ruin everything; it would fracture around him.

“Stens, you…,” Clyde sighed, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. When they opened again, Stensland was struck again by the emotions he saw there, coupled with the hurt evident by the draw of his brow, the downturn of his mouth. He felt the urge to kiss that look off his face, as he had so many times in the past. But he couldn’t--that wasn’t his job anymore, hadn’t been for a long time.

“You thought...you really thought I wouldn’t drop everything for you?”

“Clyde, I--”

“No, Stens, just let...let me talk.”

He only nodded, his heart now racing.

“After all this time, after everythin’ I’ve fucking done for you. I know we had to move to Boone to take care of Momma and it was backtracking from what we wanted, having to live in this trailer but I...it was going to get better, I swear. I told you, I had plans, and we were gonna get out of here, you could be wherever you wanted.”

Clyde was shuddering now, tears starting to form at the corners of his eyes. Stensland wanted to reach up, wipe them away, but really, he didn’t deserve that, did he?

“Dammit, Stens. Everything I’ve done is for you. This may have been my house, where I lived, but you, Stens, you were my home. I didn’t want to be anywhere but with you. Fuck, I’d live in a cardboard box in the city if it meant I was with you.”

Tears were falling now, rolling down his cheeks just slightly before falling off down onto Stensland. He could see the effort Clyde was making to keep himself up, his arm trembling with it. Reaching up, he wiped away a tear beginning to form before pushing at his left shoulder. He got the hint and carefully sunk back down on the bed next to Stens, curling against his side, his arm finding its way under his neck again so his hand could rest against Sten’s arm, thumb rubbing circles into it.

“I want to be selfish again, Stens. I want to demand you take me back, fuck your divorce, fuck whoever made you want it, want to keep you here with me again, or keep you wherever, it doesn’t have to be here, as long as I have you.”

“Clyde…” He rolled over so they were once again facing each other, not able to take this without looking at him, but also just that bit of scared to do so, still scared of what he’d see in Clyde’s expression, not wanting to face the hurt that had been there since he’d shown up in town three days ago.

“But I can’t. I still fucking can’t, not if it risks your happiness. Fuck, I just want you to be happy.”

“I want you to be happy, too,” Stensland rushed out, before Clyde could take over again. “That’s why...I thought you were happier here, would be happier here than in any city. You’re a country boy, Clyde, and I love that about you, don’t get me wrong, but I didn’t think you’d like living in the city.”

“ You make me happy. I don’t fucking care where it is, Stens, I just...I just want to be with you. If I can’t..If I don’t make you happy anymore, though, I’ll just...I’ll just deal with it. But I couldn’t just let you go, Stens, not without...not without talking to you. I know we weren’t good at that before, and that’s probably my fault I just...I wanted everything to be okay and I was bullheaded and didn’t see that you weren’t happy and it’s my fault and I’m sorry.”

“No Clyde, I’m sorry. I should have...I should have said something, anything. I just...I got trapped and scared and I didn’t think anything through. Clyde, fuck, I’m sorry. I know it’s ten years too late, but I’m sorry.”

Stensland leaned forward then, pressing his lips to Clyde’s, trying not to get lost in them, knowing it was probably a lost cause. He whispered soft “I’m sorry”s between kisses, savoring the warmth he felt from it, from this.

Clyde finally pulled back, a crooked grin across his reddened lips. “Well, ain’t we two idiots?”

He barely contained his snort. “Just a bit, maybe.”

“We still...I know we still got a lotta talkin’ to do, but...do you want to go for a drive?”

“A drive?” Stensland looked up at him, confused, Clyde’s wide grin only fueling that confusion.

“Yes,” Clyde answered, pressing another kiss to Stensland’s lips, leaving him wanting more, again, wanting to follow him as he drew back. “A drive. I think a certain bridge would be nice to visit.”

#kylux #star wars #kylo ren #armitage hux #clydeland #clyde logan #stensland #my writing #this is a lot sadder than i had intended #i'm sorry #but it has a kind of happy ending??#dressesandcarresses

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