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elronds-meleth-nin · 3 months

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I Could Love You With My Eyes Closed

I heard a song and one of the lines got stuck in my head, so here's a fic. (If you're curious, it was "Figure You Out" by VOILÀ.) No idea why, but Thranduil just felt perfect for this.

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Thranduil x Reader

[A/N: This is mostly just fluff, but there's some innuendo, so... 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!!!]

Warnings: Fluff, angst, Elf x Human romance, mutual pining, idiots in love, Thranduil being dramatic, fake betrothal speedrun, Thranduil being soft for one (1) person only, protective Thranduil, Human!Reader has been adopted by elf who had no idea what he was getting into and Thranduil thinks he's an idiot, mild innuendo.

~*~

My mind wandered during my guard shift. Given that nothing ever penetrated this deep into the realm without the king's consent, the risk of allowing my focus to roam among my busy thoughts was minimal. The night air was brisk as I sat on one corner of the king's balcony with my bow laid across my lap.

Normally, the night air was soothing, but at that moment, all I could think about was how different everything would be soon. There would be no more extravagant views of the stars framed by elaborately gilded windows, no more training with my bow, no more front row seats to royal audiences, and - the worst of all - no more late night conversations when King Thranduil grew weary of his work.

I'd taken those things for granted. Oh, I hadn't squandered my time once I'd become one of his guards, by any means, but now that I might be forced to give up that position sooner than I'd anticipated, a list of regrets seemed to be cycling endlessly in my mind's eye. One that caused me the most pain was that I would very soon no longer be the recipient of his majesty's secret smirks when something we'd discussed privately occurred in his court.

The sound of a quill scratching away on parchment within the king's study ceased abruptly, but not even the anticipation of a quiet, intimate talk with him could lift my spirits. Not after the news I'd had that morning.

The swish of a cloak being removed was followed by unhurried footsteps toward the balcony, and then he was there beside me. The King of the Woodland Realm stood less than a few feet from me in all his finery, save the little circlet that usually rested upon his brow. He tended not to wear it when he retired to his chambers for the evening, choosing instead to lay it atop a book of poetry which resided permanently on his desk.

"On a lovely, cloudless night such as this, what cause would a newly-engaged lady have to look so forlorn?" The smooth, regal voice of my liege met my ears, and under any other circumstances, I might have scrambled to my feet to bow before him, as was his due. All I could muster, however, was a quiet, sincere apology over my shoulder as I remained seated on the balcony. I could feel his keen, pale blue eyes on me as I set my bow aside and let out a heavy sigh. "Oh, dear. Is he that repulsive?"

"Not physically, but...all he seems to see is himself. I am perfectly aware that the betrothal wasn't either of our choices, but he could at least pretend that he's interested when our parents are nowhere to be seen." I was aware that I sounded ungrateful, but just because I was a mortal woman in a realm of Elves didn't mean that I had to like it when I was constantly looked down upon by others.

One of the few people who never gave me the impression that he thought less of me took a seat beside me in robes much too elegant for anything less than a perfectly padded chair to touch.

"Have you spoken with your guardian - apologies, your father - about your fears?" Instead of sounding judgmental, Thranduil's voice held only softness - a rarity, to be sure, but such a tone was more common when he conversed with me than with anyone else. I nodded my head as I recalled the cold aloofness in my adoptive father's voice as he'd dismissed both me and my protests.

"He seemed more concerned with maintaining the status associated with his name than with some silly little mortal's concerns." I tried to keep the bitterness out of my voice, I really did, but the sharp edge that crept in made me cringe a bit. "After all, who am I to complain when he took me in? My life could have been over before it had even truly begun. He could just as easily have left me to die in the ruins of our burning village and adopted an Elfling instead. I...owe him for all that he has done."

One of Thranduil's hands rested lightly on my shoulder, coaxing me to face him. My eyes met his, and his free hand laid over my wrist. The warm weight of his palm covering my pulse made my heart flutter in my chest.

"Is that what he told you?" When I stammered about it being nothing more than the truth, he shook his head while stormclouds gathered in his expression. "What foul words of comfort from one who claims to care for you."

To that, I had no response. Naturally, several statements sprung to the tip of my tongue - defenses for my father's actions - but I swallowed them all down when my king's gaze warned me that he would tolerate no such excuses.

"Remind me, mellon-nin, how long have you served in my guard?"

"Twelve years and a few months, sire."

"And in all of our many conversations, have I ever given you any reason to doubt that I value you as highly as any other in my kingdom? After that first fortnight, when you were terrified of making a mistake, have you ever felt out of place because of your mortality?"

The memory of that fateful night drew a smile to my lips.

"No, mellon-nin. That rather thorough tongue-lashing you meted out made your stance quite clear to all in the palace," I murmured allowing myself the small liberty of turning my hand beneath his and threading our fingers together.

The guards he'd berated for their rudeness and bigotry had practically fled the throne room when he was finished with them. After that night, he'd ordered that whenever I was on duty, I would be assigned to his personal detail.

"Then, what cause have you to believe that I would tolerate anyone treating you so poorly anywhere else in my domain?"

"This is different–"

"How? Enlighten me," the king ordered giving my fingers a gentle squeeze.

"Father has the right to demand that I repay him for the time he has spent on me," I hedged, but Thranduil shook his head.

"Just because he raised you, that does not mean that he was unaware of what he was choosing. He may not have known the full extent of the demands made of a parent, but that was not the fault of the innocent babe he rescued." He sounded so calm, so casual about his assertions that I could do no more than blink as he spoke. "I do not expect Legolas to sacrifice his happiness to satisfy some imagined debt incurred at his birth, nor should your guardian make such ludicrous demands of you."

We sat quietly for a moment, side-by-side and hand-in-hand beneath the moonlight before words began flowing from my mouth almost without my consent.

"He's an ass, you know, the man to whom I have been promised. Nothing brings him greater pleasure than a mirror, and nothing strains him more than remembering a preference held by someone other than himself," I murmured feeling as though this confession of my unkind thoughts about the Ellon would give me some measure of comfort beyond another's commiseration. "Six different times he has insisted that he knows my favorite flower, and six times have I received something completely different. He claims that I keep changing my answer, but, truly, I have given the same response every time."

"He chooses not to listen," Thranduil muttered almost to himself.

"Quite correct, aran-nin. He is dismissive...practically ignores me when we are in the same room..."

"Had he been listening, he undoubtedly would have heard your scathingly pointed sighs, not unlike those which you direct toward any who insult your king in the throne room," he teased, and a huff of laughter bubbled out of me. "I shall have you know that I enjoy those little sighs. They convey a great deal about the receiver's lack of intelligence and manners, whilst simultaneously broadcasting that you would like nothing more than to drag them from the gates by the scruff of their neck. Quite effective, do you not agree?"

"Oh, yes, mellon. As I recall, you've allowed me to do just that on several occasions," I said glancing over at him. The answering sparkle in his eyes coupled with the wicked little smirk adorning his lips made my heart thud faster in my chest.

"And I reveled in every second of their humiliation at your beautiful hands," Thranduil practically purred in satisfaction at the memories, but I sobered rather quickly as I recalled the reason I was so down in the first place. He must've seen my smile slip. "Forgive me, I was certain that you enjoyed dragging witless rats from my sight...?"

"I do...rather, I did." The correction was small, but he pounced upon it immediately. The hand that had been on my shoulder grasped my chin and forced me to look back up at him. He didn't need to say a word. The question floated between us unasked, yet requiring an answer. "My betrothed made it clear that he believed a guard was no proper wife. He has demanded that I resign my position here."

More seriously than he had all night, Thranduil gazed into my eyes.

"Is that what you want? Do you wish to give up the station you fought so hard to attain for a man who cannot remember even the simplest of things about you?" I shook my head as hot, desperate tears filled my eyes. "Then tell me, what do you want? What desires fill your mind when you allow yourself to dream under cover of darkness?"

I most certainly could not give him the whole truth. I couldn't tell him that over the course of our acquaintance and friendship I had fallen in love with him. Nothing could ever come of my pathetic heartache. I was only a guard. A peasant. Peasants might fall in love with royalty, but they did not end up with them. That was not the way of the world.

"Love," I breathed instead. "I want to be loved for myself, not my father's position. I wish to be cared for and to care for another. I wish to remain a guard, a warrior for the Woodland Realm, and to be accepted as I am, not swept aside. Obviously, I am not without fault, but while I attempt to grow wiser and gain experience, I do not wish to be impeded or judged by someone who could never remember even the most basic facts about me. I...What I want is impossible."

A small, gentle smile crossed the king's lips, and an intense, burning desire to kiss him fought a war within me against my common sense. Thranduil could forgive much, but a lapse in judgment as severe as throwing myself at him? Never.

"Your presence here is proof that nothing is impossible. You are much easier to love than you have allowed yourself to believe." His deep, rumbling voice sounded at once comforting and sensual, which proved quite effective at helping me blink back my tears before they could even begin to fall. "When are you next due to meet with this unworthy cad?"

"Tomorrow. My father has invited both he and his parents to our home for the evening meal as it is my day without a shift." I was surprised at how steady my voice sounded after how vulnerable I'd just been. Strangely, though, I felt no shame in having allowed my friend to see my pain.

King Thranduil nodded his head pensively, brushing his thumb over my chin as he did so - why had he not yet released his grip? Not that I was going to complain, of course. Being this close to him, touching him, speaking with him in confidence...that was as close as I was ever going to get to him, and even that might soon be pulled from my grasp, so I savored every moment that I was afforded.

Neither of us had much more to say. Instead, the Elvenking slipped an arm around my waist and tugged me close enough to his side for me to lay my head on his shoulder. We sat in companionable silence until the time came for the guard change. Bidding me sweet dreams and a safe trip home, Thranduil dropped a soft kiss onto my hand and retreated back inside his rooms.

As usual, the guard who was to replace me gave me a raised eyebrow at my familiarity with someone so far above my station, and, as usual, I ignored him.

Sneaking to the stables on my way out, I plucked an apple from my coat pocket and headed to the gilded gates of the stall holding the king's mount. Slicing the fruit quickly in half with my dagger to delay my return home by a few extra seconds, I cooed gently to the large elk, stroking the soft fur on his muzzle as I offered him the treat.

"Who's a good boy? Hm? You are! Yes, you are," I praised as he gingerly bit into the first half of the bright red fruit, then the second. He was a gentle giant, in truth. Much of the kingdom supposed that he would be as prickly as his rider, but nothing could be further from reality. Firstly, the king was only short with those who deserved his ire. Secondly, the admittedly imposing elk upon which he rode hadn't a mean bone in his very large body. "Aww, you're never grumpy with me, are you, mellon-nin?"

He chuffed and snuffled, nuzzling gratefully into my caressing fingers as a 'thank you' for his treat. Even he would be a far superior companion for life than the idiot with whom I'd be forced to spend yet another pointless evening the next day...and perhaps the rest of my life.

"Don't worry, mellon, even if he makes me resign, I'll still find a way to sneak in and bring you extra apples." The pleased little snort he gave me drew a giggle from my lips, but I knew that soon the guard patrolling this section of the grounds would be here. I bid goodnight to my tall, fur-covered friend and set off on the path toward home with our secret intact.

Had I so much as bothered to glance back, I would've seen a familiar head of bright blond hair watching as I tugged the hood of my cloak over my head.

When I awoke the next day, it was still early morning. The lateness of my shift usually tired me out well enough that I slept for at least another hour or two, but after a few bleary blinks, I realized that I'd been awakened by voices.

Odd. My adoptive father did not usually entertain guests at this hour. Either something had happened, or today was destined to turn out rather strangely. As he hadn't bothered to come wake me, I gathered that there was no urgency in whatever had transpired. What was not in question, however, was the way my stomach growled as I tried to roll over and go back to sleep.

With a sigh of defeat, I climbed out of bed and dressed, even going so far as to tie my hair back in a quick braid since it looked as though it might rain. Thus, clothed and presentable, I cleaned my teeth and ventured from my bedroom in search of food.

The voices seemed to be coming from my destination, so it seemed as though I would get both sustenance and an answer to my curiosity all at the same time. A fortuitous turn for such a gray morning.

"...ere she is now." I was able to make out my father's voice as I intentionally stepped on the creaky board in the hallway. I wasn't as quiet as an Elf when I walked, but I still didn't like to appear as though I was eavesdropping or sneaking where I shouldn't be. When I stepped into the kitchen, I froze.

There in all his regal, perfectly-groomed glory was King Thranduil, sitting at our tiny wooden table.

What in the name of the Valar was the king doing in our kitchen?

"Aran-nin," I greeted him, bowing slightly less steadily than I might have if I'd been awake for more than a few minutes. A low, velvety chuckle floated around the space.

"Come now, meleth, you know there is no need for such formality," Thranduil crooned giving me a charming, mischievous smile as I straightened again, but that statement alone nearly shattered my poor tired mind.

He'd said 'meleth,' but...that meant 'love.' He'd never called me that before. And I still didn't know why he was in our kitchen.

Glancing between my king and my father, I tried silently to piece together what the hell was going on here. Thranduil must have seen my lack of progress in my eyes, because he continued as if this was all completely normal.

"Come, break your fast. Your guardian has been kind enough to make tea and lay out some provisions for us," he said standing and pulling out the chair directly beside him.

Almost without thinking, I did as he asked, and my heart thudded rapidly in my chest when he seated me as if we were at some lavish feast instead of around our small, wooden table. He acknowledged my hastily-murmured gratitude, then resumed his own seat with his usual flourish. The three of us ate quietly for a few moments, staunchly ignoring the fact that the king was in our tiny kitchen eating with us as casually as if he had always done so.

It was...pleasant. Strange, obviously, but much more enjoyable than my usual solitary morning meal.

"So, meleth-nin, would you like to tell him the good news, or should I?" Thranduil asked, and I looked up at him. Slightly more cognizant than before, I recognized the glint in his eyes that usually accompanied a desire for me to play along with whatever he said next. I could do that.

"I'm quite certain that it would be much more eloquent coming from you," I demurred, and I very pointedly avoided looking across the table at my father's reaction to whatever bit of theater my king had orchestrated. Less than a heartbeat later, I found my free hand firmly in Thranduil's grasp as he looked at my father.

"The betrothal you arranged for your ward is hereby declared invalid by order of the king," he said, and the stunned expression on my father's face was worth every moment of confusion I'd experienced that morning. He took a moment to gather himself before clearing his throat and looking between us in askance.

"If it is not too presumptuous, sire, may I ask why you have done this? Her betrothal to–"

"That engagement was no more than a farce. We meant to announce it earlier, but with how busy I've been attending to my royal duties, I fear I have been remiss." The king cut him off, and the indignation in my father's eyes gave me a sick sort of pleasure. "You see, your ward is not available for the suitor you preferred, because she has already accepted my own marriage proposal."

Oh. So, that was what he had in mind. A faux betrothal. Somehow, that was both intensely flattering and a knife to my chest.

The announcement worked to perfection, though. My father looked as though he'd been punched soundly in the face.

"You...?" He blinked and made a second attempt at speech. "Why would a king want her?"

Thranduil's head tilted in a manner I recognized as indicative of the imminent rise of his temper.

"Why does a king desire anything? Tell me, why should a king not desire a worthy queen for his realm?" He asked, and my father caught up rather rapidly with the realization that he'd said the wrong thing. Thranduil looked back over at me as he lifted my hand to his lips. "Why should an Ellon not marry the one whom he loves?"

Ow. Those were the exact words I'd longed to hear from him for so many years, but to hear them now knowing that they were all an act...

"And why should I not wish to marry the Elf with whom I have grown so close over my many years of guard duty?" How far he intended to carry this fiction, I didn't know, but I could play along for now. I could hide the pain.

"I...Congratulations," my father stammered hesitantly, but he was no longer relevant. Not now.

"Thank you," the king said without taking his eyes off of me. "Meleth, I believe it is time for you to live in the palace. It will be your home once we are married, and if you are prepared, I can take you back with me. My mount is outside."

"Of course, but I shall need a few moments to pack–"

"Nonsense. You needn't do such menial work. You are to be my queen. I have already arranged for your belongings to be brought to you this evening. For now, you need only bring yourself and a riding cloak," he insisted with a warm smile.

"Might it not be simpler, my king, if I were to save you the trouble of taking her with you? I could escort her to the palace myself this evening so that you needn't be burdened by sharing your mount," my father said, and the blush that sent my cheeks burning at the thought of the pair of us riding together atop his elk was automatic. No acting required.

I prayed that Thranduil was unaware of how drastically he affected me, even within my own imagination.

"Bringing my queen to the palace is my responsibility and privilege. And, if you shall forgive me for saying so aloud outside of the solitude of our marital chambers, meleth-nin, I view the opportunity to feel you in my arms with great anticipation," the king said turning my hand over gently and placing a slow, sensual kiss right over my racing pulse. My breath caught in my throat at the hunger in his eyes. His lips lingered a few beats longer than I expected, only pulling away when my father cleared his throat pointedly. "My apologies. In the presence of such beauty, I find that I am transported into the realm of fantasy."

Thranduil's words did not match his expression. He was an Ellon who found vast satisfaction in playing those around him like an orchestra. He wasn't sorry at all.

"As much as I adore seeing you like this, my darling king, I do hope you will be more discreet while holding court," I teased, but his smirk only grew.

"When my queen is so breathtaking? Never." If it wasn't for the disgustingly sexy wink he tossed me, I'd have thought he was laying his act on a bit thick. As it was, though, he seemed to be staying in character quite effortlessly. For my part, I was one shaky breath away from giggling like brainless idiot, or bursting out in tears because of the simple fact that this was all an act.

Ducking my head in what I hoped was a passable semblance of bashfulness, I tried to steady my breathing.

"I...trust that you still plan to give up your position in the guard?" My eyes flicked up and met my father's. There was something in his expression - disbelief, confusion, suspicion - that I couldn't quite place.

His obvious lack of trust after all these years angered me.

With the sweetest smile that I could muster, I tilted my head curiously.

"Not at all. A queen must be willing to fight for - and alongside - her people if she expects them to fight for her in return. Loyalty must be earned; it is not a gift to which one is entitled." Thranduil gave my fingers a gentle, supportive squeeze. "Surely, after your many years as a warrior, you of all people understand how crucial it is to inspire loyalty in those whom you command?"

He couldn't protest. When Thranduil said nothing, giving him neither a change of subject or an opportunity to dodge the question, my father stammered about his question being a foolish one and about the change in suitors being so sudden.

Almost as soon as we stepped outside, the king's elk snuffled happily. He walked over to us, but to my surprise, instead of vying for Thranduil's attention, he made a beeline for me. Without thought, I patted his muzzle and ran my fingers down his neck. Snuffling lower, as if he knew I usually kept his apples in my pockets, he looked at me expectantly.

"Oh, I'm sorry, mellon, I don't hav–" I was silenced by a large, gentle hand landing on my shoulder.

In my king's grasp was a bright, ripe, red apple. The same kind I usually smuggled out of the larder as a treat for my furry friend. He'd already sliced it in half - when had he even found the time?

"Thank you, but how did you...?"

"Nothing happens in my realm but I know of it," he whispered, the warmth of his breath ghosting over my scalp.

Choosing to temporarily ignore the implications of his statement, I accepted the apple and fed it to his elk. After a moment, Thranduil moved nearly soundlessly back toward my father.

"Ah, before I forget, this is for your ward's former suitor," he said pulling an envelope with the royal seal from his pocket. "Please convey to him that if the contents raise more questions than answers, he is most welcome to see the palace healers about his obviously failing memory."

With his cloak swishing behind him, Thranduil swept back over to me and helped me onto his mount's back. Once he was seated behind me with an arm wrapped firmly around my middle, it all sank in.

This might be an act for my father, but this was happening. I was really riding toward the palace with my king's chest pressing against my back. The guards who manned the gate would see us. Any who encountered us would bear witness to the king's act. How far did he mean to take this?

Surely, he wouldn't actually marry me just to get me away from one unsuitable Ellon? And when he did eventually end this ruse, what then? Would I be forced to go home with my tail tucked between my legs?

When we were around the halfway point in our journey - far enough from both my home and the palace that I was certain we wouldn't be observed - I asked if we could stop for a moment. Despite his confusion, Thranduil gave the command, and his elk trotted to a graceful stop. Without waiting for assistance, I slid off the saddle and landed rather hard on my feet.

Ignoring the new ache in my ankles and the ache that the loss of Thranduil's steadying grip left in my chest, I took a few steps and tried to slow my breathing. The sound of my traveling companion landing infinitely more gently than I had met my ears along with a concerned call of my name, but I just shook my head.

"Are you hurt, meleth?" He asked, and I swallowed heavily.

"No, but...my king–"

"You are perfectly allowed to call me by my name. After all, we are betrothed. It would not do for our subjects to see us behaving as if no love exists between us," he said as he patted his elk's neck, and a pang of hurt wound through my heart. Thranduil was saying all the right words, but it was an act. There were no longer any witnesses. There was no longer anyone to watch as my heart broke.

"Why are you doing this?" At the pain in my voice, confusion and concern washed over his features.

"Whatever do you mean?" The Elvenking asked stepping away from his elk's side. His cloak billowed around him, and it was all I could do not to drop to my knees at the sheer majesty of the figure he presented. All it did, though, was reinforce what I already knew: Thranduil was not for me.

"Please, do not misunderstand, I am grateful that you have saved me from such an unfortunate match. However, you needn't spare my feelings by pretending to love me. There is no need to waste your precious time playacting, mellon-nin."

"'Pretending'?" The word escaped him as a harsh, dangerous whisper. Oh dear. I'd seen the king's rage before, but never had his icy fury been turned upon me. Despite the outrage in his tone, his next words were at the same hushed volume as before. "'Playacting'? What do you take me for?"

I could see why Prince Legolas had insisted that raised voices were preferable to the fear that his father's cool, piercing anger inspired. I wasn't afraid, but I was acutely aware of the severity of his emotions. I wasn't intentionally trying to anger him, but I needed him to know how close he'd come to breaking me beyond repair. Before I could answer, he advanced another step and continued.

"And, pray tell, what am I, in your estimation? Cruel? Unforgiving? Demanding? Judgmental?" His eyes flashed with something akin to pain. "Perhaps your censure is not based upon personality, but upon appearance."

The glamour he kept constantly in place over his scar melted away.

"Is this the source of your misgivings? Am I too ugly for you to accept, even as a king?"

"You know that's not true," I snapped, with an edge of warning in my voice, recalling the first time I'd seen him without the glamour.

A few months after my appointment to the king's guard, I was given a jar of pain-dulling ointment by one of the healers to pass on to the king. I'd delivered it, of course, but when I'd been hesitant to leave him, going so far as to ask if he was injured, he'd locked the door and showed me what the fire drakes of the north had done to him. Thranduil admitted later that he'd intended to frighten me that night, but all I'd done was ask if he needed help applying the medicine. Once he realized I thought no less of him for his injury, he'd let me.

Yet he had the gall to stand before me and accuse me of being shallow? Had he learned nothing about me over the years?

"Then answer the question," Thranduil bit out quietly. "What exactly do you take me for?"

"A king," I breathed looking up into his eyes. Confusion mingled with his anger. "Peasants may fall in love with royalty, but they are not offered the luxury of marrying them. Kings do not give lowly guards a second thought, even if they afford them the title of 'friend,' so I will ask you again, sire: Why are you doing this? Why are you acting as though hope abounds for my doomed heart where none has ever existed?"

His brow smoothed, his lips parted a fraction, and his glamour slipped silently back into place as he processed what I'd said. Oh, Valar, what I'd said! I'd confessed to loving the king!

Comprehension melted his anger away into nothingness. Instead, he moved within a single step of me, lifting one of his large, graceful hands to caress my cheek.

"You truly do not know?" I couldn't even bring myself to answer as I leaned into Thranduil's touch. This might be the last chance to do so after what I'd just admitted. He'd dismissed guards in the past for much less severe transgressions. "When we spoke last night, you told me that you desired to be loved - not by the whole of the Woodland Realm as I believe you deserve, but by one person. The Ellon your father chose for you certainly could not do that when remembering something as small as your favorite flower caused him such strain."

Low and gentle, his voice trickled over my ears as smoothly as honey. He...He didn't sound angry, anymore. Why wasn't he enraged that someone like me had dared to cross the more-than-generous boundary of friendship that he'd allowed me?

"My king–"

"Thandruil," he corrected, but there was no real bite to his words despite having to repeat himself again. He never repeated himself, yet this morning alone he'd done so twice. "You adore the blue wildflowers that grow along our western borders, but if you smell them for too long, they make you sneeze. During the summer, you set them on the sill in your room and keep the window open so that you might enjoy them without discomfort."

I blinked in surprise. I could vaguely remember a conversation years ago where I'd mentioned the flowers, but it was such a trivial thing that I was quite certain it would've been forgotten by morning. After all, what I did with flowers had no bearing on the fate of the kingdom.

"You prefer your tea sweet but not overly so. When you believe it might rain, you take the precaution of braiding your hair so that the humidity will not render it impossible to untangle when you return home."

The Elvenking began slowly, allowing each small fact that he'd observed about me to sink in along with the realization that he'd favored me with his attention frequently enough to accrue them.

"Your confidence with daggers is low, but with a bow, you are as bold and graceful as any skilled Elleth warrior. When I express my anger at some wretched fool in my court, you often struggle to suppress your laughter at how close they come to wetting themselves in the throne room - do not deny it. Your body gives you away each and every time."

Had he truly seen so much of me during my service to him?

"When your temper is tested, there is a small line that appears just here," he touched a spot between my brows, "that brings me great consternation. On the one hand, I wish to give you my sword so that you may more easily remove the head of whomever has dared incur your wrath, but on the other, I wish to soothe your frustrations with my words, my lips, my body, whatever you will allow–"

"Thranduil–" His name fell from me as no more than a whisper. The leaves on the trees surrounding the path rustled in the breeze, but the Elvenking could not be stopped.

"Your free time is often spent reading. Once a week before you return home, you sneak out to the stables and feed my elk an extra apple, because you find him sweet-tempered. When you laugh, your eyes sparkle brighter than any star ever could, and you steal the breath from my chest each time you look at me."

My vision blurred, and only when my king's thumbs brushed tears from my cheeks did I realize that I was crying. I'd loved him for so long that this felt as surreal as a dream.

"You said that you wish to be loved, meleth-nin. To answer your question, I am doing this because I can give you exactly what you desire. I could love you with my eyes closed, because I have done so with them open since the day you were assigned to my guard."

Thranduil leaned closer, freezing but a hair's breadth from my lips.

"If you do not feel the same, we can remain friends, but if there is the slightest chance that you could find happiness by my side, then marry me. Be my queen. I am yours." His whispered promise was filled with so much tenderness and hope that my restraint snapped, and I closed the distance between our mouths.

My fingers gripped his robes in an attempt to ground myself, but this heady feeling of being wanted - being loved - robbed me of all coherent thought. There was only the feeling of gentle hands drawing me close by my waist and the nape of my neck. Only soft lips kissing me with the skill of thousands of years' worth of experience. Only a king claiming his queen's heart.

There was only love.

~*~

mellon-nin = my friend

aran-nin = my king

meleth-nin = my love

#elronds-meleth-nin fic #Thranduil x Reader

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nvmadic · 11 months

Text

BEHIND CLOSED DOORS - SCHLATT

prompt: the reader seeks out schlatt's help to help them beat a level on a game but find him rather occupied. words: 2,799 warnings: nsfw/18+, exhib/voyeurism, oral sex, praise kink notes: gn!reader, no pronouns this is something i had sitting in my drafts incomplete until this ask inspired me to finish this. so thank you !

For several days, Schlatt found refuge in your apartment while urgent maintenance work was underway in his own place. The relentless clamour of hammers and whirring drills disrupted his ability to record videos, prompting him to seek a tranquil space. Grateful for your understanding, he arrived with a sheepish smile and a few bags, apologizing for the inconvenience. He reassured you that he would make every effort to minimize noise and avoid disrupting your daily routine. Being the supportive friend you were, you gladly extended your help. And to your delight, he brought along his affectionate feline companions, who purred contentedly as they familiarized themselves with the new environment.

In the midst of limited space and an unfamiliar environment, Schlatt ingeniously pieced together a reasonably functional and efficient setup in your spare room. Rising early each day, he diligently recorded his videos, making the most of the resources at hand. When he wasn't occupied with errands or work during the mornings and afternoons, he relished the quieter evenings, savouring your company and engaging in late-night conversations over some takeout and games.

Utterly drained and overwhelmed, you slumped back in your chair, fixated on the incessantly flashing screen before you. Determined not to surrender, you had been locked in an infuriating battle with this level of the game that seemed to stretch on indefinitely. Repeatedly respawning at the same checkpoint, you were mercilessly taunted by the similar obstacles and enemies that stood in your path. Your fingers danced with well-practised precision, each button press a desperate attempt to forge a path forward, yet success eluded you. The patterns of each obstacle, the strategies of each enemy, and even the haunting sound of your virtual demise had been etched into your memory. Frustration mingled with weariness, your resolve teetering on the edge of collapse beneath the weight of continuous defeat.

Grasping the weighty controller in your hand, an internal battle waged within, torn between pressing the dreaded Respawn button once more or surrendering to seek out a mentally rejuvenating activity. Though the inclination to surrender loomed large, a flicker of determination flickered deep within your core. Refusing to admit defeat just yet, you delved into the recesses of your mind, desperately searching for a glimmer of hope. And then, as if struck by lightning, an epiphany illuminated your thoughts, flooding them with a burst of inspiration. Without a moment's hesitation, you sprang from your seat and made a beeline for Schlatt's temporary sanctuary. Imagining him facing the frustrations and setbacks that had tested your patience brought a mischievous smile to your lips.

As you approached the door, a pleasant surprise washed over you as you noticed it was slightly ajar. In the days prior, Schlatt had diligently worked behind closed doors, the firmly shut entrance serving as a clear indication that he needed uninterrupted focus. The sight of the slightly open door now hinted at the possibility of a break in his concentrated efforts, sparking curiosity within you. Tentatively pushing open the door, your eyes immediately fell on a frantic and flustered Schlatt. Caught off guard by the scene before you, it was immediately evident that he wasn't simply working on his videos; a mix of surprise and arousal wash over you as you watch him pleasuring himself. His large hand eagerly rubbed at his shaft as he bucked his own hips in an attempt to thrust himself further into his tight grasp. His brows furrowed with concentration, the beads of sweat glistening on his forehead as his hand moved with fervour.

Intently watching the video on his monitor in front of him, he sat with his cock pulled over his shorts almost as if he was reacting on a lustrous impulse and immediately needed to alleviate himself of some built-up tension. His arm moved with hast and vigour, betraying a sense of desperation. Standing there, frozen in indecision, caught between two conflicting desires. Part of you just wanted to immediately divert your gaze and slowly creep out having pretended nothing had ever happened, but another part of you was intrigued. Unequivocally drawn to the possibility that the open door was an open invitation, a tacit acknowledgement of some unspoken tension that had emerged between you both.

Schlatt's attention was completely captured by the video before him, struggling to multitask pleasuring himself as a result; his pace haltering as he watched the screen intently. His breathing became more pronounced as he focused on the monitor, with each soft groan in the form of an exhale serving as a release of tension.

You hesitated, reluctant to make any sudden movements. Despite the fact that he had his headset securely resting over his ears, the mere idea of shifting your weight and potentially causing a floorboard to creak, drawing his attention towards you, ignited a blend of anxiety and anticipation within your stomach. You found yourself caught in a captivating mix of nervousness and excitement, uncertain of how the rest of this would unfold. As you stood eagerly anticipating his actions, he continued to thrust himself into his own fisted grip. Swinging his head back and suppressing a throaty groan that had escaped his lips. His chest heaved as his heart rate spiked, and his breathing was somewhat frantic.

Regardless of the fact that he was sitting facing his computer, you could still discern how flushed and sweaty his face had become as he continued to touch himself, the odd strand or two of hair glued to the thin sheet of sweat that blanketed his forehead. Readjusting himself in his seat, his face contorted slightly with a hint of discontent as he reached for his mouse as it seemed he was no longer interested in the video that was currently playing on his screen. As Schlatt swiftly closed the tab of the video on his screen, your social media page came into view, revealing that he had already been browsing it before your arrival.

Caught off guard by the unexpected sight, a surge of shock coursed through you, causing your stomach to plummet and an instantaneous wave of nausea to wash over you. The sensation was quickly replaced by a rush of warmth that flooded your cheeks, signalling the onset of an intense blush. Heart beating out of your chest, you curiously watched as he casually browsed your page, his gaze fixated on the screen. The mix of curiosity and arousal grew within you, wanting to see what caught his attention. With each flick of his finger, your anticipation heightened.

A smirk tugged at the corner of Schlatt's lips as his eyes settled on a particular photo. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, a subtle signal of his growing desire. You couldn't help but wonder which image had captured his attention, your mind racing with possibilities. As his hand moved to adjust the grip on his still-aching length, his eyes locked onto a picture of you in a revealing outfit, and a teasing smile adorned your lips. The tension in the room seemed to intensify, the air growing thick with unspoken desire. Your phone, nestled snugly in your pocket, suddenly began to ring, as if fate had conspired against you to ruin this moment. The headset that had been previously blocking out all external sound was now nothing more than a feeble attempt at noise cancellation, as it failed to mask the blaring ringtone of your device. In a split second, Schlatt's head quickly swivelled in your direction, surreptitiously sitting forward and using the fabric of his sweatshirt to cover himself. "I didn't hear you come in," Schlatt's lips curved into a smile as he spoke, his eyes betraying a trace of self-consciousness. As you scrambled to silence your phone, you couldn't help but notice the intensity of his gaze. It was almost as if he knew you had been standing there the whole time and was now carefully watching your reaction.

Your face remained fixed on his screen, and his expression became increasingly difficult to read as you watched. His face bore a subtle expression that you couldn't quite decipher, and you found your eyes flitting nervously between the images and his features, searching for some clue as to what he was thinking. There was a palpable tension in the air, not uncomfortable, but charged with anticipation. It felt like a standoff, with both of you silently waiting for the other to make a move, uncertain of what would happen next. "You could have chosen some better pictures of me to jerk off to," you bit, breaking the silence. Schlatt's eyes widened momentarily, caught off-guard by your brazen comment. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he leaned back in his chair. The tension in the room seemed to shift as if a new dynamic had been established. His eyes stayed fixed on you, occasionally flickering downwards to take in the details of your form as you drew closer. "Or, you could just come over here and finish the job." He suggested, rather sternly.

Your breath hitched at his bold proposition, a mix of surprise and excitement washing over you. The atmosphere crackled with anticipation as you closed the distance between the two of you, your heart pounding in your chest. With each step, your desire deepened, the line between curiosity and arousal becoming blurrier by the second. Standing before him, you locked eyes with Schlatt, the air heavy with unspoken desire. His gaze was intense, unwavering as he watched you, his hand still delicately shielding his now throbbing length. You felt a surge of confidence welling up within you, empowered by the dominant energy radiating from Schlatt.

Without a word, you slowly sank to your knees. The anticipation grew as you reached out, your hand hesitating for just a moment before gently slipping beneath the hem of his sweatshirt, exposing his hardened shaft to the cool air.

He looked down at you with an intense lustrous gaze, subtly biting at the inside of his lip as he intently anticipated your touch. Feeling his eyes burning into you, you couldn't help but be fueled by his desire. With a hungry glint in your eyes, you wrapped your fingers around his exposed length, marvelling at its warmth and hardness. Slowly, you began to slide your hand up and down his shaft, your touch firm and deliberate. Schlatt's breath hitched as your hand moved along his length, his eyes locked onto the mesmerizing motion. A low growl escaped his throat, betraying the mix of pleasure and anticipation that coursed through his veins. Encouraged by his reaction, you increased the pace, applying just the right amount of pressure to drive him wild.

You could feel the urgency in Schlatt's movements, his body trembling under your touch. With each stroke, you matched his rhythm, giving him the friction he craved. His groans filled the room, a symphony of pleasure and desire that fueled your own arousal.

As you continued to pleasure him, your free hand ventured higher, teasingly grazing his inner thigh before cupping his balls. You gently massaged them, relishing in the way his hips spasmed in response. The scent of arousal permeated the air, mingling with the sound of wet slickness as your hand moved rhythmically over his throbbing length. Schlatt's eyes never left you, burning holes into your soul with their intensity. He longed to see you engulf him in warmth and wetness, to have your lips and tongue dance along his sensitive flesh. Unable to hold back any longer, he uttered a strangled plea, his voice filled with need. "Please, take me in your mouth."

A mischievous smile tugged at your lips as you listened to Schlatt's plea, unable to resist his intense desire. Without hesitation, you released your grip on him, moistening your lips before leaning in closer. With your hand still cupping his balls, providing gentle support, you lowered your head towards his throbbing length.

Your tongue began to delicately trace the rim of his tip, tasting the precum that had gathered there. Schlatt's breath hitched at the sensation, his fingers tensing as he gripped the armrest of his chair. Slowly, you took him into your mouth, allowing him to feel the warmth and wetness enveloping him. As you took him deeper into your mouth, your lips forming a tight seal around his length, you felt him grow impossibly harder. Your tongue swirled around him, coaxing every gasp and groan from his lips. Schlatt's grip on the armrest tightened, his body trembling with pleasure.

With each bob of your head, you added a gentle suction, intensifying the pleasure coursing through him. Your hand continued to massage his balls, feeling them tighten in your grasp. In the midst of your passionate actions, the taste of him lingered on your tongue, a delicious mix of saltiness and musk. Schlatt's breathing grew ragged, his hips involuntarily thrusting subtly into your mouth, seeking deeper contact. The sound of your wet slurping mingled with his moans, creating an intoxicating symphony of pleasure in the room.

"That's it, just like that." The words sent a shiver of pleasure down your spine, fueling your own desire. Encouraged by his response, you increased the suction, your tongue swirling around him with fervour. Each stroke of your lips and the tightness of your mouth showcased your eagerness to please him. The sound of your wet mouth moving over his cock filled the room, erotically punctuated by his moans and explicit exclamations.

"You're doing such a good job," he hissed through his teeth, his hips bucking slightly in response to your skilled ministrations. The words ignited a surge of satisfaction within you, spurring you on to give him even more pleasure. The affirmation from Schlatt spurred you on, fuelling your own desire to provide him with even more pleasure. With a newfound determination, you intensified your suction, your tongue teasing and flicking against his sensitive head. Each movement brought him closer to the edge, his hips rocking in rhythm with your mouth.

Schlatt continued to watch intently, his eyes taking in every last detail of your face fervidly taking in his stiff length, glistening with the wetness of your saliva. Your lips moved up and down his shaft, your tongue swirling around his head, savouring the taste of him. The wetness and warmth of your mouth enveloped him, driving him closer to the edge with each passing second. As you continued to worship him with your mouth, the anticipation between you both reached its peak. Schlatt's breathing grew ragged, his grip tightening on the armrest as he teetered on the edge of release. Soft whimpers began to pass his lips, throwing his head back in ecstasy.

The sight of Schlatt giving in to his overwhelming pleasure was mesmerizing. His head thrown back, his soft whimpers filled the room, a symphony of ecstasy that fueled your own desire. You intensified your movements, quickening the pace and taking him deeper into your mouth, eager to push him over the edge.

His climax nearing, Schlatt's grip on the armrest tightened even further as his knuckles began to fade colour. You could feel his muscles tense, his breathing becoming more erratic. The moment hung in the air, charged with anticipation. With one final lingering flick of your tongue, you felt Schlatt's body stiffen and then convulse in ecstasy. His moans escalated into a guttural cry, his release spilling into the warm depths of your mouth. The taste of him, salty yet sweet, ignited your own arousal, a sense of satisfaction washing over you as you continued to pleasure him through his orgasm.

With each convulsion of his body, his moans subsided into deep breaths, his grip on the armrest gradually loosening. As his pleasure gradually subsided, you slowly released him from your mouth, a satisfied smirk playing on your lips. The room was enveloped in a haze of post-orgasmic bliss, the air heavy with a mix of desire and fulfilment.

As Schlatt blinked heavily, it was evident that the intensity of the moment had left him temporarily speechless. His respirations began to even out, his body relaxing against the chair. You couldn't help but feel a sense of pride at having left him in such a state of blissful satisfaction. Schlatt's chest rose and fell with each steady breath, his eyes locked onto yours with a mix of satisfaction and desire. He cleared his throat, his voice raspy yet filled with newfound confidence. "Well, I must say, you certainly know how to please," he stated, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "Impressive."

As Schlatt concealed his manhood, the explicit energy in the room began to subside, replaced by a sense of contentment and relaxation. The afterglow of your passionate encounter lingered, your bodies still charged with the remnants of desire. He leaned back in his chair, a lazy smile spreading across his face. "I'll keep the door open from now on."

link to the rest of my work [x]

#jschlatt #schlatt #jschlatt x you #jschlatt x reader #schlatt x reader #schlatt x you #chuckle sandwich #chucklesandwich #smut #x reader #gender neutral insert

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lykaonimagines · 2 years

Text

Be Alright - Stephen Strange x Reader

Paring: Stephen Strange x F!Reader

Word Count: 3,796

Description: Y/N and Stephen run into one another for the first time in years at Christine’s wedding. She’d thought her crush for the man had faded over the years, but that doesn’t seem to be the case.

Requested by: Anon

Other Things: Slightest bit of angst (very very minimal) but it’s just mostly fluffy.

Warnings: Some swearing.

Masterlist

Sighing as she reached the venue, Y/N forces a smile and adjusts her dress slightly before stepping toward the entrance to accept her wedding program from the man at the door.

She’d rather be nearly anywhere else in the world other than this event. And she’d managed to avoid giving Christine a definite answer on whether she could make it until the last minute. Citing work and someone needing to be on duty at the hospital as an excuse. Yet somehow, Christine had managed to talk someone else on the staff into taking her place for the day to allow Y/N to attend.

They had been friends at one point, practically best friends, and she’d suppose they still were friends distantly. Not that Christine had done anything wrong to deserve Y/N distancing herself. They’d lived together in college as roommates, paired up together by chance on their first day. Both headstrong and ambitious with similar career goals, they’d clicked immediately.

They shared dorms and apartments, a car at one point. They laughed together, cried together, and stuck together through everything. Even somehow managing to snag similar positions at the same hospital together when they graduated.

Then a certain arrogant dark-haired doctor happened.

Charming, frustrating, gorgeous, intelligent, and talented. He’d been intoxicating from the moment she’d first saw him. Their subtle flirting had made her harbor a burning crush for the man. Never knowing if she should push the topic with him, or how if she did.

Before she could even figure it all out, she’d walked in on her friend and Strange kissing one late night shift at the hospital. She played it off well. Jokingly teasing them and leaving the room to give them privacy, but the moment stayed seared in her mind.

It wasn’t Christine’s fault. And it wasn’t Stephen’s. It’s not like she’d told either of them her feelings, and if they wanted something between themselves that was in their right. It was firmly her own problem.

But watching her friend’s tumultuous relationship with said doctor was maddening. That crush never really wore off, and listening to Christine talk about their dates and issues just made her further sink into resentment for her.

So she’d slowly distanced herself from the pair. Certain one day they’d get it figured out, and she couldn’t be that close to watch it. Nor did she want to cause problems for her friend. She wanted them to be happy.

While the two hadn’t worked out, and somehow Strange ended up a superhero, their dynamic had still been odd. A big part of her just assumed they still somehow would fix things.

She even found someone else, and tried to move on from that stupidly persistent crush on a man she hadn’t seen in person for years.

Then the Snap happened. Five years of her life gone in a second. Five years of her career, her relationships, everything.

Luckily she got her job back, and on her first day returning her old friend pulled her into the fiercest of hugs. She’d found out Strange had been dusted as well, and Christine had met and gotten engaged to a new man in that time.

Being torn from her thoughts by colliding into a broad suit covered back, Y/N stumbles back, “Oh excuse me, I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

The man in front of her turns to give her a familiar smirk, “Very clumsy today Dr. Y/L/N. But I accept the apology.”

“Doctor Strange?” she asks incredulously, her eyes glancing over him quickly. “What are you doing here?”

“I believe we both know Doctor Palmer,” he chuckles, his hand clutching the program he was holding tightly.

“I just mean… exes and such or… I don’t know,” she sighs. “A lot of shit changes in five years Strange, if you two are comfortable with it, then it’s not my business. I’m just going with the flow.”

“You were dusted?” he asks.

“Yes, and still picking up the pieces.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what? You were dust too. I’d assume you and your Avenger friends didn’t want half the universe to disappear for five years.”

“Few are as accepting of that as you unfortunately,” he says wistfully.

“Maybe some things happen for a reason,” she responds with a shrug. “At least that’s what I’ve been telling myself.”

He nods in response, looking lost in thought for moment before directing a smile toward her.

“Sit with me?” He offers suddenly.

“You want to sit with me?” She asks questioningly.

“Yep. I know you, and if we don’t sit together Nic is going to target one of us. Strength in numbers or Russian Roulette on which of us gets stuck with him?” He teases.

“You make a good point Doctor Strange,” she chuckles and accepts the arm he offers her and leads them toward their seats. “He still goes on about you. Can’t say for sure whether he’d sit with me to complain about you or sit with the source.”

“Never been a fan of me.”

“Clearly. I haven’t even spoken to you in years, and he acts like I’ve personally offended him because we used to talk on our breaks. Christine escapes the rants because he feels bad for her.”

“Apologies for leaving such a lasting impression,” he chuckles.

“An impression only you can leave Strange,” she responds before cursing under her breath. “Speak of the devil…”

“And he’ll appear,” Stephen finishes as they wearily eye Doctor West heading towards them.

“Doctor Y/L/N, Doctor Strange,” he greets them, his eyes going between the two before focusing on Y/N. “Would you mind letting me sit there?”

“I- what?” She asks with a furrowed brow.

“Can I have your seat, I’d like to catch up with our friend Doctor Strange here,” he replies, giving Stephen a scathing look.

Noticing the look between the two, Y/N gives him a sweet smile and slides a bit closer to Strange, “I’m sure you two can catch up at the reception Nic, Stephen had already asked me very nicely to accompany him. It would be rude to just ditch him now.”

“Are you serious?” Nic asks, his eyes widening as Stephen’s arm goes across the back of the pew behind Y/N. “You two?”

“Is there an issue Doctor West?” Stephen asks with a big smile. “There are plenty of seats.”

“Yes,” he snaps back unhappily. “But we can talk about it later.”

Casually shooing the man off, Stephen chuckles once he’s out of earshot, “I owe you one.”

“That you do,” she agrees, subconsciously relaxing back against his arm. “I’m not going to hear the end of it.”

The music finally starts to play and the two get to their feet to face the entrance. Feeling Stephen stiffen beside her, she slowly places a hand on his back and rubs deliberate circles in an attempt to soothe him. He slowly relaxes into her touch, some of the tension leaving his body.

When her hand drops from his back, his hand swiftly reaches for hers. It slightly trembles against hers as her fingers curl around his hand and she faces the front for the start of the nuptials.

“And do you Christine, take Charles to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do you part?”

“I do.”

A subtle shake goes through Stephen at the words, and she finds herself glancing up at him to see his eyes closed. Rubbing the back of his hand, his eyes finally open and he lets out the breath he’d been holding, his eyes dropping to her.

She offers him a small smile that he returns, his grip on her hand tightening slightly.

“It’s going to be alright,” she whispers as she leans into him, her cheek brushing against his arm.

“It’s going to be alright,” he repeats back at her and nods, leaning in to press a swift kiss to the top of her head before the music for their exit begins.

Y/N’s eyes widen at the gesture, slack-jawed as she tries desperately to focus on her friend walking down the aisle with her new husband. Not on a certain doctor’s warm scarred hand in hers. And certainly not on the spread of warmth his kiss had spread through her body.

“Go with me to the reception?” he asks, ducking his head down closer to her.

“Of course,” she nods, her chest tightening at the smile he gives her.

Strange leads them out of the room, tugging her along by their still clasped hands. A fact neither of them seemed to want to mention.

Stepping out into the fresh air he turns to her, “We have two choices. Walk a few blocks to the building the reception is at, or I can portal us there.”

“As fascinating as literal magic is, I think fresh air might be good,” she comments.

“Mhm, good point,” he responds, leading her across the street to get away from the other guests. “It’ll be on this side of the street, and I don’t want to chance Nic joining our walk.”

“How are you feeling?” she asks him after a few minutes of walking in silence, shoulders slightly brushing. “Don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. But if you do.”

He sighs deeply and gives her a weary smile, “A wide range of things I can hardly disconcert at the moment. It wasn’t easy, but I’m not feeling nearly as… hopeless as I expected to feel.”

“That’s good, everything takes time. And having five years ripped out from under you to have a new reality shoved in your face isn’t easy.”

He nods in agreement, pulling their hands a little closer to him, “I’ve known for awhile it wasn’t going to work out. Yet I… sort of still held onto something. I suppose today is a new start of sorts.”

After a few more minutes of silence, he finally chuckles, “Is there something on my face? You keep giving me the side-eye.”

“No, nothing like that,” she responds hastily, looking away from him. “You’re just… different than you used to be.”

“Apologies. I’ve had quite a few things change my perspective.”

“I meant it in a good way,” she corrects, his head turning back toward her. “You’ve been through a lot it seems, you’ve done a lot of shit I can barely imagine. And it’s made you who you are today. I haven’t been around you long today, but what I’ve seen, I like who you are. Though I’m glad you didn’t lose your sass.”

He scoffs at her response, but looks at her softly, “That’s just engrained. But.. thank you.”

“Stephen Strange thanking someone? Truly a changed man,” she grins and he reaches out to playfully flick her nose.

“As I was saying, thank you. For the kind words, and for earlier,” he adds with his own grin. “You’ve made this a lot easier than I was expecting it to be. I’m even in a somewhat pleasant mood.”

“Oh that’s going to change when we get up there,” she gestures at the building they finally reached.

“True,” he mutters and leads them inside, heading into the elevator.

They back into a corner as more guests pile in, one man pressing in exceedingly close to Y/N as she shivers uncomfortably.

Stephen quickly puts his free hand up against the back of the elevator and slips his leg in-between Y/N and the man to push him back, giving the man a pointed stare, “Back up.”

The man shuffles further away from them immediately, and Stephen’s attention turns back to Y/N as she chuckles and whispers a thanks to him.

The ride to the 30th floor feels excruciatingly long. Stephen’s body nearly right against her own, his face directed down toward her. She knew there was still something of a crush there, but she’d assumed years of not seeing him had mostly dulled it.

Obviously that was a lie to herself now that she finds herself trying to control her breathing at his closeness and trying not to stare too intently into his blue eyes.

Finally reaching the right floor, Stephen stays locked in place a moment longer than necessary, pulling himself away just before the doors closed behind them again.

Entering into the hall, the two of them look around briefly.

“Food, drinks, and find a quiet corner to wait out the storm?” she asks.

“My exact thoughts.”

Before they can make good on their plan, a joyous Christine spots the two of them and makes a beeline toward them as they both let go of the other’s hand.

“I’m so glad you two could both make it!” Christine greets her and Stephen with a big hug, one arm around each of them. “I really wasn’t sure either of you would show.”

“I- apologize for that,” Y/N responds, her gaze flickering away for a moment. “A lot has happened, I was avoiding answering. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I didn’t want to be here for you. Congratulations, you look like so happy, and I’m so happy for you.”

“Hun trust me I get it,” she says, gently rubbing her friend’s arm. “After The Snap, and everything with Ben… I wouldn’t have blamed you for not wanting to be at any wedding, regardless of who’s it was. It means a lot to me that you came.”

“Ben?” Stephen asks curiously, looking between the two women.

“An ex,” Y/N responds simply with a shrug, looking embarrassed under his gaze.

Christine grins, looking between the two, “But she is single now. Hint hint Stephen.”

Y/N’s head snaps up, mouth agape as she feels her cheeks seem to set on fire, “Christine!”

“I’m just saying,” she holds her hands up defensively. “I’m just seeing two very single people that I care about hanging out together looking quite cozy… might have put a thought or two in my head.”

Before Stephen can respond, Nic appears beside the trio, “Christine, congratulations.”

“Nic, thank you so much for coming!” Christina says and pulls him into a side hug. “It’s great you could be here.”

“Of course,” he nods and turns toward Y/N and hooks an arm with her. “I was hoping to talk to Doctor Y/L/N though, so I’m going to borrow her for a moment.”

“Well we were still-” Y/N starts to say before Nic pulls her away from the other two and closer to the bar.

“Why didn’t you say you had something going on with Strange?” he asks sternly, all pleasantness from before gone. “I’ve gone on and on about how I feel about that jerk and you never said a word?”

“There’s nothing like that Nic, and I don’t think you’d have taken too kindly to me disagreeing with your statements, you’ve always seemed pissed when you talk about him.”

“Because he’s an asshole Y/N!”

“He’s really not that bad. He’s been quite pleasant today actually.”

“He is that bad, and I thought you were over him.”

“Excuse me?”

“As if no one noticed the puppy eyes you used to have looking at him, and now you’re looking at him like that again. Your best friend’s ex, really Y/N? You should feel ashamed of yourself.”

“I think anything going on in my life or Y/N’s is really none of your business,” a familiar voice cuts in. “And you have no right to judge her for anything you seem to think you know.”

“I think we were having a private conversation, Strange.”

“A private conversation that involved me, and you’re harassing the person you’re speaking to. Back off Nic,” he nearly growls, sliding in closer to Y/N until she can feel him looming over her and his chest against her back.

“You think because you’re the best surgeon then the best superhero you can just talk to people however you fucking want. You’ve always been an arrogant asshole, and you always will be.”

Sighing heavily, Y/N breaks away from the two men and heads toward the balcony door. Snatching a glass of champagne from a waiter’s tray as she goes.

She chooses the corner of the balcony, swirling the liquid in her glass as she stares down at the busy city below.

“Do you mind if I join you?”

“If you wish,” she responds, glancing over as Stephen leans against the railing beside her.

“Are you alright?”

“Things haven’t really been alright for awhile if I’m being totally honest,” she admits after a moment. “Nic is just a minor annoyance.”

“About the Ben guy?” he asks.

“Part of it yeah.”

“What happened?”

“I was seeing him when the Snap happened. We’d just moved in together, he’d proposed. We were talking about our future. Then seemingly five seconds later I find out it’s been five years, and he’s married and had a kid. Then my family looks at me nagging me about not having a husband yet, like I’m some old maid that’s rotting away and has just chosen to hide away from the dating world or something. When they saw the invite for this it’s all I heard about for fucking weeks. ‘Oh Christine is getting married, why aren’t you getting married yet? Why aren’t you having babies yet?’ Because I was fucking dead for five years and after all that, no one wants to deal with the kind of schedule I have,” she rants, her hold on the glass in her hand tightening. “Apologies. You asked me a simple question and I ranted.”

“It’s fine,” he says with a soft smile, moving in closer to lightly bump her arm with his, “I can understand. Though I tend to use my schedule as an excuse as to why I shouldn’t even try.”

“I’d imagine saving the world and magic tricks isn’t a 9 to 5 huh?” She asks with an airy laugh.

“Not exactly, luckily I’m used to shit hours,” he responds and slowly lays his hand over hers.

“Become a doctor to train for being a superhero, a very long route there. Though I suppose being able to handle a pressing situation, death, the threat of death, and injuries probably is useful,” her hand turns over slowly in his to connect their palms.

“You look beautiful by the way,” he comments, his eyes sweeping over her dress and his fingers intertwine with hers. “I should have led with that earlier. I’m not great at this.”

“And what is this?” she questions with a raised brow.

Running his thumb over the back of her hand, he stays quiet for a few moments, “An attempt at flirting with an amazing woman. Hoping there’s something to that.”

“Depends on what it is you’re looking for. The casual flirts I’ve been done with for years. And I’m not looking to just hookup.”

“I want to be happy,” he admits as he looks out at the city. “I want someone I connect with, that can accept the life I live and want to be a part of it. Something serious and worth keeping. With someone that can give me shit back and that makes my heart race… I’ve probably had too much to drink already.”

“Nah. Those sound nice, I like the sound of all of that. No games, but lots of playing around,” she says with a wink as he turns his head to look back at her.

“Let me take you on a date?” he asks suddenly. “I’d really like a chance to see where this can go.”

“Are you asking me out at a wedding Stephen?” she teases with a smile over her champagne glass.

“To be fair, I have the bride’s permission. She seem quite enthusiastic to make sure we knew we were both ‘very single.’”

“That she did,” Y/N hums and looks back out at the city. “I’d like that… but I want confirmation on a few things first.”

“Which would be?”

“If this goes further, if you’re not feeling it anymore, you tell me. I don’t want to be dragged along if you aren’t fully serious about it. And two, I know your life is probably complicated, but I don’t want to be left in the dark. Might not be able to tell me literally everything, but I’m not dating a sorcerer and knowing absolutely nothing about what you do all day.”

“I can do both those things,” he nods and smirks at her. “Hell if you want to become a sorcerer yourself…”

“I think I’ll stick with just a surgeon for now, but I won’t close that door,” she laughs and leans into him. “I’ve seen the portal thing on the news, just that alone is cool enough to make me consider it.”

Glancing around them for a moment, he looks back to her with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “So do you want to stay here?”

“You’re suggesting we ditch? Where to?”

“We already did the formalities… I was thinking I could show you the Sanctum. Get some pizza, wine, put on a trash movie?”

“The Sanctum?”

“Old building full of magical relics that I protect. One of a few Sanctums we have.”

“So you’re inviting me on a first date to ditch a wedding and go to your house instead?” She grins. “Aren’t you forward.”

His mouth hangs open for a moment before trying to backtrack, but she quickly presses a finger to his lips, “Pizza and movies at the magic house sounds fantastic. I’m going to need to borrow some clothes though because I can’t chill in this all day.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got plenty of comfy stuff you can wear,” he nods. “I can’t wait to get out of this suit anyways. Not used to this anymore.”

“Oh, and since I’ve just been thinking it and haven’t said anything. You look amazing in that suit. Like holy shit. I know that’s going to your ego, but I’ll give you that.”

“I’m glad you approve,” he smirks, pulling out his sling ring and opening a portal to the entrance of the Sanctum.

Y/N’s eyes widen at the magical energy and the opulent foyer on the other side of it, “You live there?”

“I do, Master of the Sanctum,” he winks and takes her hand in his. “And I’m hoping you’re going to get well acquainted with it soon too.”

“Suppose that depends on its master,” she teases.

“It’s master is thinking he’s going to want you around a whole lot.”

----

Stephen Taglist: @stephenstrangeaddictions @ironstrange1991 @gaitwae @geeky-politics-46 @elicheel @frostandflamesfanfic @tokoyamisstuff @singhfae @jotaros-bara-tiddies @kon-pan-16 @stanny-uwu @ohchoices @sparky22122 @typical-bistander @hunterofshadows04 @evelynrosestuff @asgardianprincess1050 @pop-rocks-and-skittles @namethathasnotbeentaken @peachywoong @valeriegreyy @cumberbitch @lightmeuplivly @lucimorningst4r @bluebear142077 @wandastrqnge @floralover1 @strangeobsessed @whosgwyneth @bymoonlightfics

If you’d like to be tagged, please fill out this Google form. Makes sure I don’t miss your comment, and lets you opt out of certain things if you’d like 💙

If I’ve tagged you in something you didn’t want to be tagged in (certain variant, a warning you aren’t comfortable with, etc) just message me and I’ll make a note on my sheet to make sure you aren’t tagged in anything like that again.

#doctor strange #Doctor Stephen Strange #doctor strange imagine #doctor strange x you #doctor strange x reader #Stephen Strange #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange x you #stephen strange imagine #fanfiction #marvel

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alcrystallize · 1 year

Text

•｡ ✧ Alcryst's Interview

Spoiler Warning: FE Engage Post-Game Events

Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Twice fold did his racing heart beat as his hand trembled over the doorknob to the office. The painful fear of rejection had a stronghold over the second prince of Brodia. A rush of thoughts swiftly ran into the faulty dam of confidence Alcryst had built himself prior to arrival. ‘What if I am not accepted to The Officers Academy?’ ‘Why would an esteemed academy as such desire a poor candidate such as me?’ However, deep down, he knew that he had to be here. If he wanted to become stronger and protect his beloved country and the people he cared for, he must persevere no matter the cost. After all, what would his father tell him? Swallowing his fear, he exhaled once more and opened the door to the room – facing the interviewers sitting at their desk with anticipating gazes.

“Good morning,” Alcryst greeted them with a newfound sense of regality as he crossed over the threshold of the entryway, “my name is Alcryst, second prince of–.” SLAM! "GAH?!“ He jumped aside, surprised by the sound of the door slamming behind him with a force certainly not coming from the painstakingly nervous boy himself. “Has the door always been that heavy? I’m sor–” he started to express his apologies as his leg bumped into a small table, causing the figurine atop it to PLOP! on the floor. “AH? I didn’t see that table there! I’m so, so sorry!” his face reddened with humiliation as he simultaneously bowed and picked up the figurine to place back on the table. Goodness, could he have been digging a deeper hole to bury himself in?

His lips were as dry as the Solm desert when he tried to speak; so, as to not further embarrass himself, he cleared his throat and sat in the chair facing opposite from the interviewers. He closed his eyes and took a small breath once more, recollecting his composure as he straightened his posture and folded his hands over his lap. “… I am Alcryst, second prince of Brodia. It is a pleasure to meet you. I am… ready to begin this interview.”

⌜ ✧。.:*: – What has led you to where you are today? ⌟

He was not certain what kind of question to expect, and certainly, he did not expect one as reflective as this. The Alcryst he was today was far different from the Alcryst he was before the beginning of the war in Elyos, though the similarities between the two remained vast. To this day, he was still not strong enough – not good enough to be a worthy ally and companion to defeat the fell dragon. From his perspective, his strength has grown minimally – only in the face of life or death did he grow with his decisiveness and readiness to protect the people around him; alas, it was not sufficient enough to protect his late father, King Morion. As Alcryst contemplated over the question, a tinge of sorrow revealed itself across his features – averting his gaze to the surface of the table separating him from the interviewers waiting patiently for his answer. ‘Get yourself together, Alcryst! Formulate your thoughts!' he attempted to encourage himself.

“I was born the second prince to Brodia, a mighty country that values its strength and resilience. Those values were instilled in me from an early age by my father – late father… King Morion.” He paused. “… and my older brother, the new king of Brodia, Diamant. He is one of the strongest people that I know.” A small smile peeked out from underneath his solemn expression toward the thought of the person he admired most. “He is powerful and determined, yet kind and leads with an open mind and heart… he always has been. I, on the other hand, have never been able to rise up and be like him or my father. No matter how hard I tried… it hasn’t seemed to be enough, and for that, I paid the price of losing my father in a battle with our neighboring country, Elusia.”

But that was not the end, despite how overwhelming the grief was at the time. He and his brother marched onward with the divine dragon and their companions to defeat the fell dragon. Alcryst was there. He did fight alongside them. And he did win. He could not take that for granted.

“… after that, though, I traveled with the Divine Dragon to defeat the Fell Dragon that was threatening the safety of Elyos – of my country. As the second prince to Brodia, I could not stand down – so I fought. I may not have slain nearly as many enemies as my brother or the Divine Dragon – or anyone, really – but I did go out on the battlefield, and we did defeat the divine dragon. Now,” he sat up straighter in his seat from the back of the chair, “I have to become stronger so I can continue to protect my people. My brother, the King. So that is why I am here today with you. I will get stronger, and one step there will be to train here at the monastery.“

⌜ ✧。.:*: – What do you believe are your greatest strengths? Your greatest weaknesses? ⌟

”S-strengths?“ As quickly as his façade of confidence rose did it fall when Alcryst was asked about his strengths – let alone his greatest strengths. His mind was engulfed by a whirlpool of weaknesses that plagued him from an early age and continued to roar inside his mind and heart. What strengths did he have? After all that he has gone through during the tumultuous war and the devastating loss of his father, what strengths did he have to prove himself a worthy candidate for the academy? One of his weaknesses, he was tempted to say, was sharing his greatest strengths with others; however, when in doubt, he resorted to remembering what his fellow companions said about him. He may not have always believed in their words, but he could not discount their sincerity when they said it. His crimson eyes flickered from side to side in the midst of thought until he could weave together a comprehensible response.

"I… I want to protect the people I care about. No… I want to protect everyone. I understand how that may not be easily attainable, but I know that I am a work in progress until I am able to do just that. I am eager to train my body and mind so that I can be stronger and smarter on the battlefield. I want to learn more about different strategies and formations so I can maximize my potential during battle.” It was almost as if speaking his goals into existence made them closer and within his reach, even though that was such a silly notion to begin with. “I know I will not always fight alone, and for that, I must be someone who is reliable and be counted on like I would them. There are so many people who are stronger than me… that I must rise to the occasion and not be a burden to them. they do not deserve that from someone like me.”

Then, the conversation turned toward his weaknesses. “My greatest weaknesses? Pardon me, but how much time do we have?” The list was endless, and the last thing he would want to do was bore the interviewers with his aimless rambling. Alcryst sorted through the ideas that immediately came to his mind – bother, burdensome, worthless, useless, unreliable, weak, unlovable – and tiered them into a hierarchy of most significant to the least most significant. Though, this line of thinking was futile as he could not pinpoint only one to be at the top. Then, as if his mouth had been besieged and taken over, he said, “my greatest weakness is that I will never be good enough.” The truth set in amidst the tension thickening in the deafening silence of the room. “I will never be good enough that I will stop training and growing to become stronger. I am not strong enough to protect everyone. I will never look my brother in the eyes and say that we are equal in standing… for he will always be better than me. I am not enough.”

A glimmer twinkled in his eye. “Yet."

⌜ ✧。.:*: – If a story were to be written about your life, what role would you play? ⌟

"What a boring and dull story that would be,” Alcryst answered without giving the question another ounce of thought. One would normally feel embarrassed thereafter, but that was a feeling that sat with him at nearly all times. To entertain the idea alone of a story written about him was laughable. Throughout the history of Brodia and his lineage of royalty, there have been brutal and fierce kings that were beyond the definition of power that played an instrumental role in building the kingdom into its gloriousness as it stands today. His own father was no exception, and his brother would do more than he could imagine within his new role. If Alcryst had any sort of skill with writing, he could write the most excellent of novels about his father and his brothers – and without a doubt would those two stories be voraciously consumed by everyone across the country – or the world, at that. If the story was about Alcryst? It would be a waste of time to produce it in the first place.

“My life does not deserve a story. It is not interesting, nor is it captivating in any sense of the word. It would be the least engaging piece of text there ever was… because I am nothing to write or read about. On the other hand,” Alcryst waved his hand in the air, “a story about my father or brother… the legacy of their impact on Brodia would be remembered for years and years to come. As far as I would be a presence in their stories, well… I would perhaps be a footnote. I am a Brodian prince, but I am not the Brodian prince – and I never will be one like Diamant.”

Alcryst sighed, on the edge of exhaustion from the interview despite the relief that it had reached its conclusion. He quietly stood up and formally bowed from his side of the table. “It was an honor to meet with you today. I hope… that if there happens to be a spot – and if not, that is fine, as I imagine you have many other more worthy candidates to consider today – but on the off chance, there was… that I can be someone to fill it. I want to get stronger… and I want to do so here."

With that said, he bowed once again and stepped around the chair and toward the entrance. Before he opened the door, though, he faced the small figurine on the table and bowed once again. "I’m sorry, again, for earlier, tiny figurine.”

#engage spoilers #[ first post 😳 zoinks scoob! ]

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not-a-seagull · 14 days

Text

PRISON CELL – 02: “Unexpected Criminal”

Background: Crow Prison

Music: BGM 023

Eiden: (This place is even bigger than I ever imagined… Kinda gives me the jitters)

Eiden: (But being inside an actual prison isn’t the only thing getting my blood pumping…)

Edmond: A small proportion of the staff posted here are in fact, knights. However, to enable the prison to run smoothly, the carrying of swords is prohibited.

Edmond: As such, the guards are armed with batons… Fortunately, this outfit allows for impeccable ease of movement.

Eiden: (Now that we’re actually inside the prison, seeing him dressed like that… i couldn’t not fantasize if i tried…!)

Warden: Vice-Captain, Grand Sorcerer, it is an honor. Allow me to introduce myself— I am the Warden of Crow Prison.

Warden: Forgive me for not coming out to meet you. Things have been rather hectic around here lately.

Edmond: We are here on the orders of His Majesty the King.

Edmond: In addition to assisting with the general administration of the prison, we hope to gain a better understanding of how this facility operates.

Warden: Indeed, and I am incredibly grateful for said assistance. First, allow me to take you on a tour of the prison grounds…

***

Warden: And that more or less covers the prison’s public amenities.

Warden: Currently, the majority of inmates housed here have been convicted of minor crimes.

Warden: In the spirit of rehabilitation, in addition to meals and exercise, inmates have ample opportunity to leave their cells and engage in many manual labor duties within the prison.

Warden: As for the guards, ordinarily, in addition to shift patrols, they remain on standby to monitor fixed locations such as the cafeteria, workshop, and exercise grounds.

Eiden: (I know Edmond wants me to find ways to improve this place, but I know literally nothing about running a prison… This might be tougher than I thought…)

Music: None.

? ?: H-Help!

? ?: S-S-Stay away from me! C-Come any closer and I’ll—

Eiden: (Prison fight?!)

***

Background: Prison Cafeteria.

Music: BGM 019

Cafeteria Guard: 9527! Put down that weapon!

Warden: What is all that commotion about?

Cafeteria Guard: Warden, sir! Inmate 9527 appears to have smuggled contraband into the prison and is now attempting to attack a fellow inmate!

Inmate 9527: W-Warden? This big oaf, the new guy, started it—

Music: None.

Inmate 9527: Waah!

Taking advantage of the sudden distraction, the guard knocks the weapon out of the inmate’s hand and pins him to the ground.

Warden: … *sigh* … Why today of all days?

The Warden bends down to pick up a fork lying on the ground beside the inmate.

Warden: All items in the prison undergo treatment and inspection to minimize the harm they can cause.

Warden: The smuggling of cutlery from the outside is, of course, forbidden, precisely so that incidents such as this can be avoided…

Inmate 9527: It was only in self-defense! J-Just look at the size of him… Not to mention the white phantom that whizzes around at night…

? ?: …

Edmond: (T-That inmate…)

Warden: Enough, 9527. You’ll have ten days in solitary to reflect on your actions. Don’t worry, it’s extremely safe in there— no one will come anywhere near you.

Warden: As for you… Return to your cell. I’ll send someone to question you shortly. Everyone else, back to work.

Quincy: ……

(Quincy exits the scene)

Eiden: (Quincy—?!)

Music: BGM 023

The Warden orders the guards to remove the offending inmate, disperses the gaggle of onlookers, and turns to his two guests to offer his apologies.

Warden: I’m sorry you two had to witness such a spectacle. I assure you, quick and effective action will be taken to ensure no further such incidents…

Warden: … Vice-Captain, Gran Sorcerer, is something the matter?

Edmond: Warden, what was that all about?

Warden: Just a minor conflict between inmates. Nothing serious.

Warden: Prisons are enclosed spaces, after all. It’s not uncommon for some of the inmates to feel threatened when a particularly imposing newcomer arrives.

Edmond: No, what i mean is…

Eiden: Warden, could you take us to see the cells?

Background: None.

Eiden: Especially the one housing that… ‘imposing’ newcomer.

End of Chapter.

Sources:

Background Images: NU Carnival wiki.

Warden Image: Also from the Nuca wiki.

Quincy Image: NU Carnival official twitter.

Transcrip: did it myself, with the help of this video.

Last chapter: Prison Cell 1 | Next chapter: Prison Cell 3

#nu carnival #nu carnival eiden #nu carnival edmond #nu carnival quincy

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ecsundance · 5 months

Text

Review of The Blair Witch Project

The Blair Witch Project is not like anything I have seen before. Seconds into the film, it immediately sets an ominous tone beginning with a black screen stating, “In October of 1994, three student filmmakers disappeared in the woods near Burkittsville, Maryland while shooting a documentary. A year later their footage was found.” The implication is immediate. The three students’ fate must still be undetermined.

The film was written and directed by University of Central Florida film school classmates, Daniel Myrick and Eduardo Sanchez. The story revolves around the protagonists, three college age filmmakers, who decide to investigate a myth about a witch in the small town of Burkittsville, MD (previously known as Blair). To begin their documentary, they do some interviews in the town which fuels the folklore they have already heard related to a local witch, the Blair Witch. Yet, there are some who don’t believe these stories, and this provides realism and authenticity to the film.

After the interviews, they head into the woods to begin their investigation of the Blair Witch. Their expectation is that this will be a short excursion. However, this is not the case. Their interpersonal relationships go south as they get lost in the woods, hear noises at night, start losing important items, and people start to disappear. This triggers an apology video from one of the two survivors. Needless to say, this investigation does not go as planned.

The film is character-centered on the three college students and is shot as a documentary with the use of two low-end cameras, one with black and white film. The cinematography is as if they are shooting all the footage themselves on the go so the camera is shaky, not in focus or without images due to the various situations the characters are in (and they are). This heightens the verisimilitude, the appearance of being true or real, of the film. Not only does the style of the film support the fact that it is a real documentary but so does the strategy of its production. Myrick and Sanchez do this by using the true names of the actors as their character names. This was such a success that the families of these actors actually received condolence cards after the release of the movie.

The film is about as indie as it gets. First off, it uses unknown actors. It is low tech and has no special effects or music. It is a low budget film with a production cost of approximately sixty thousand dollars. Based on this information you may not expect much. Boy, would you be wrong. This movie is unnerving. There are lots of rumors, folk tales, superstitions, and false memories that give backstory to the movie. The scariest part of the movie actually develops from the seeds that are planted in your mind. Your imagination. There is minimal blood and gore compared to movies like Nightmare on Elm Street or Halloween. There is no eerie music. No jump scares. No knife attacks. No theatrical techniques to build suspense. Just the bare bones natural and real setting of the forest.

Yet, it still feels like a horror film. It is really up to your imagination as to what is really happening. It is up to you to determine if it is all real or not. The missing map, the piled-up stones, and the stick bundles that are found all contribute to our thinking there is something wrong going on here. It is a mystery and we, along with the protagonists, are trying to figure it out. Through Myrick and Sanchez’ immersive style, they created a film where the viewer is more of a player trying to understand what is happening. This engagement is an example of ‘form is a game.’

The late Roger Ebert raved about this movie, stating, “At a time when digital techniques can show us almost anything, The Blair Witch Project is a reminder that what really scares us is the stuff we can’t see. The noise in the dark is almost always scarier than what makes the noise in the dark. Any kid can tell you that. Not that he believes it at the time.”

While the purpose of indie films is not necessarily to make a small fortune, this movie did. It made nearly two hundred fifty million dollars worldwide. That is an impressive return on investment.

I definitely recommend this film but make sure you can afford not to sleep that night!

-Ryan McCormick

#sundance #sundancefilmfestival #sundance 2024 #independent #theblairwitchproject #horror #horrorfilms #filmreview

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julsdsweet · 3 years

Text

2021 Testimonials

Nur Amirah's engagement Date of Event: 20 November 2021 via Email

Assalamualaikum Dear Kak Juls,

Apologies for the late testimonial that is supposed to be due weeks ago. Been having a hectic week at work and such.

Alhamdulillah I got a chance to write today.

First of all, thank you so much for dolling me up on my special day. You did exceed my expectations despite receiving minimal instructions on how I would like

my make up and hairdo to be done but you really did a good job to surprise and wow me on the actual day with your magic hands.

You are incredibly talented and have the ability to know how to work with each unique feature without judging them. Dealing with you was the best! Such a breeze!

You were very friendly and engaging throughout the whole process and I never once felt awkward nor bored chatting with you for the whole 2 hours. You really made me feel like I'm your own.

I certainly receive a bunch of compliments from my guests for both my makeup and hairdo. The wig was a special touch even at the very last minute! I really love how my hair looks full and neat when

you gracefully did my hair within minutes! Honestly the product that you used on me really makes me look pretty and it stayed on all day and night (plus i look flawless in photos).

The only feedback that I would like to highlight is about my eye makeup. Despite showing a picture example, I requested for a peachy soft cut crease but the eyeshadow turned out to be a darker colour shade than what i expected.

And due to that my whole makeup looks bold. Nevertheless you do make me look flawless and I appreciate it so much!

You are just so amazing at your job! And I can feel the sincerity for the whole effort to doll me up. Thank you so much for everything Kak Juls. It was a lovely experience and I will highly recommend you to others.

May you be blessed with an abundance of rezeki kak. Stay safe and take care!

Best Regards,

Amirah 💓

Syahidah & Irfan Salihin wedding Date of Event: 28 November 2021 via Email

Our testimonial as follows,

Mak andam was very professional. Very friendly, accomodating to your wants, and is not pushy (very important factor). She stayed throughout the wedding to ensure that the bride is looking at her best at all times!

We had such a great time with her as our mak andam! Thank you for making our big day so much more memorable!

Nur Arina's engagement Date of Event: 07 November 2021 via Email

From: Arina Azahar Sent: Monday, 22 November 2021 10:07 pm To: [email protected] Subject: testimonial

Dear Juls,

Thankyou for doing my make up for my engagement day. This is my first time letting someone do my make up for me. i love how my make up still stays after the event. my make up doesn't feel cake-y and i don't feel uncomfortable. Besides that you don't make me awkward. you make me feel comfortable with the small talks. i will for sure recommend my girlfriends who are getting engage or married.

Thank you juls.

Sincerely, Arina

Suriati & Syed Abdullah wedding Date of Event: 06 November 2021 via Email

Assalamualaikum Kak Juls...

You are one friendly make up artist.

Thank you for the great make up & hijab services you have done for me.It is magical how pretty & beautiful I turned out to be on my wedding day!MasyaAllah!Ramai yang puji how beautiful I look on that day...All due to your magical hands!Never regretted taking up your service!Affordable & good service provided!!Recommended!!!👍👍👍

Your very cute & satisfied client,

Suriati Binte Kardi

Rieana Agustina & AnNuur wedding Date of Event: 15 August 2021 via Email

Assalamualaikum wr wrb.

Alhamdulillah, our nikah ceremony was done well and professionally. Kak Juls managed to calm both our nerves during the preparation, up to the actual day, filled with complete guidance and support. MashaAllah! She dolled me up to look so different, really a princess for the day! And my husband looked as regal as my king for the day. We really enjoyed our time taking photos outdoors after the nikah.

Unforgettable experience indeed!

Thank you to Kak Juls and the supportive team behind her (Abang Imran, Sis Linda, & photographers - Bro Isk and Bro Azman). Truly thumbs up to Julsdsweet! 5 stars quality.

May Allah SWT bless you with rezq and health! Aamiin Aamiin Ya Robbal 'Alamin.

Rieana Agustina JaisKindergarten Teacher

Hidaya & Hafizuddin wedding Date of Event: 21 March 2021 via WhatsApp

Assalamualaikum kakjuls. Thank you so much for your service on my wedding day. Our guests suke make up yg u buat especially the silver songket with the sangul! Cantik sgt sampai i keep on watching my wedding photos over and over again. Power lah kak!! You mmg gerek lah sey! Hahaha.. you are a gerek and humble mak andam! Even my husband punye bestman u can joke around with during the 2nd outfit 😂 Thank you for making me beautiful and take good care of my face and baju throughout the event. From the bottom of my heart THANK YOU SOOO MUCHH!! 😘😘😘😘😘😘😘😘😘😘😘😘

Sayeedah Nafisah khatam quran & henna night Date of Event: 11 March 2021 via WhatsApp Anywayssss! I would like comment on ur makeup. Its the most comfortable makeup ever! I removed the makeup only at 2am because i had to wait for henna to be dry and so on. So i just left the makeup on all the way. Usually, after 2 hrs of makeup, my cheeks and forehead will start to itch due to my ‘baby’ skin. But Alhamdullilah, i didnt experience any unpleasant itch at all! My family were also impressed with ur work. It took u only 2 hrs to get this look. And the thought to ‘remove’ the makeup is sooo berat hahah! Its masya allah! In shaa allah, for any other future events, will definitely go back to u heheheheh!

#2021 #testimonials #julsdsweet #make-up artist #singapore

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sturchling · 3 years

Note

Hey I have a question can you do a reveal. You know the scene where Spiderman saves a train without his mask and the people help him from falling which in turns reveals his identity to the people on the train. Can you do that but with Ladybug instead please and thank you.

Sorry I have been away for so long guys. I haven't been doing to well lately and needed to take some time to myself. I'm sorta feeling better now though, not 100%, but I am going to try to write more now. Anyway, sorry for the wait, hope you enjoy the story.

To say things had gone very wrong with this akuma is a bit of an understatement. A woman, Cherise, who had just finished training to be an electrician had been demeaned and told she wouldn't be hired because she was a woman. Obviously, this was infuriating and insulting, which made her a perfect target for Hawkmoth. All that rage and hurt had made Elektra one of the most powerful akumas to date, with the ability to manipulate electricity and all electronics.

Elektra was trying to track down the man who had insulted her to make him pay. But Ladybug kept getting in her way! Elektra needed her out of the way for a bit, so she could get her revenge. Then she would get Hawkmoth what he wanted. So, when she saw one of those new electric trains the mayor had recently commissioned, she saw the perfect opportunity. Elektra used her abilities to sabotage the train, sending it careening down the tracks, with no way of stopping. To make matters worse, she also used her powers to switch the tracks, so the train was now racing down an uncompleted stretch of track, instead of its normal path. Ladybug would have to stop and help them now!

Ladybug was already having a tough time with this akuma. Chat had told her earlier in the week that he had a prior engagement in his personal life that he couldn't get out of with out drawing suspicion. Ladybug had thought she would be fine on her own for a few days, as Hawkmoth had just sent a major akuma attack recently and there was typically a pause after such a large scale attack. But this time, he sent Elektra much sooner than normal. And now Ladybug was struggling to handle this on her own. And with Elektra causing as much damage as she is, Ladybug hadn't had time to go get miraculous from Master Fu to gather her temporary heroes. Ladybug was truly on her own for this one.

Ladybug was just catching up to Elektra again, when she saw the run away train she had caused. As much as Ladybug didn't want to lose her and let her hurt more people, she couldn't stand idly by and let this train crash somewhere down the line. Ladybug raced to the front of the train and tried to thing of something. She tried jumping down to the track and digging her heels in, but that didn't do anything but hurt her leg. Marinette had already called her lucky charm earlier, so that was no help, and now the time on her transformation was running out. And now, she could see in the distance the end of the uncompleted track, which ended abruptly above a construction site. She didn't have much longer.

Suddenly, she had an idea. She used her yoyo to grab onto the buildings on the side of the track, hoping that would help slow the train. Her first attempt didn't work at all, and the building she had latched onto caved under the force of the train. She tried again, and this time she had much more success, but still, the building eventually broke. She could feel her energy draining from her body and could hear the now near constant beeping from her earrings, and knew she only had moments before she detransformed. She tried one more time in a desperate attempt to stop the train. She threw her yoyo and latched onto a very solid looking building, wrapping the yoyo string around both the entire train and the entire building. She held on for dear life, hoping that the building held.

The train began to slow, the yoyo seemingly working. As they approached the very literal end of the line, the train tipped over the edge slightly, before settling back on the track. Ladybug heard all the passengers let out a sigh of relief. She let out one herself, before it became to much, and she was enveloped by the darkness.

The passengers on the train, including a few students from Dupont were all thankful that they survived. Alya was thrilled to have caught such an amazing save by Ladybug on video for the Ladyblog. She also hoped that maybe she could ask LB some questions before she left, but knew there was slim chance of that. As some of the passengers turned to thank Ladybug, they saw a flash of pink light and then a young girl's body was left standing at the front of the train. The girl wavered for a moment, before tipping and almost falling off the track. But the passengers quickly grabbed her and gently pulled her inside, unsure if she was injured.

They brought her further back into the train car, and laid her on the ground. Everyone was shocked at how young she was, barely a teenager. But those that knew her were shocked to see that Ladybug, the girl who had been protecting them for over a year now, was Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Alya was completely shocked. Marinette was Ladybug? Marinette started to come around, waking to see the crowd of passengers staring at her. She looked around her and noticed that she was detransformed. Just as Marinette started to panic, Alya stepped towards her. She may be confused on how Marinette is Ladybug, but that won't stop her from helping her friend. "It's ok girl. None of us will say a word about this." Marinette was shocked.

As Marinette watched, Alya deleted the footage of the rescue, which had also caught this accidental reveal. No cool video was worth risking her friend and hero's safety. Marinette looked around at the crowd of passengers, who were all smiling and nodding at her. Alya spotted Tikki laying on the ground at the end of the train, trying to get to Marinette. Alya went and scooped her up, and brought her over to Marinette. Marinette absentmindedly gave Tikki a cookie to recharge, still in shock that everyone on this train knew her identity and was willing to protect it. After Tikki had recharged, Alya said to Marinette, "Go on. Go be the hero. I'll stay here and help get everyone off the train. Don't worry, we will be ok." With one last look at everyone here, Marinette called out, "Tikki, spots on!" Another flash of pink blinded the passengers, and there Ladybug was in front of them again. With one last nod to Alya, Ladybug left the train and went to find Elektra again.

Ladybug finally was able to beat Elektra, and return her to normal. Cherise apologized for everything and felt horrible for what had happened while she was akumatized. Ladybug told her it was ok, and even promised to help her find a job somewhere else as soon as she could. Things returned to quiet normalcy for a while after that, and Marinette was surprised to find that all of those people on the train had really managed to keep her secret. And they all went to great lengths to minimize the chance they would get akumatized and be forced to reveal it. Marinette would sometimes pass them on the street and they would nod or smile at her. A few would buy her ice cream or a small treat after an akuma attack. But they never shared the secret, and they would protect it for the rest of their lives.

#ml #ml fic #ml fanfic #ml fanfiction #ml reveal fic #ml reveal #ml reveal fanfic #ladybug reveal #ladybug identity reveal #miraculous ladybug #miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir #miraculous fic #miraculous fanfic

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unbakedziti · 2 years

Text

A/N Helloooo this is the first time I’ve posted anything like this or written. So if anyone decided they want to read it, that’d be super cool. This kinda just was something I started writing and then decided to posts. Also my apologies for any grammar or spelling errors, and that it’s pretty short.

Summary: Peter Parker is dealing with some trauma after Civil War, and Tony finds him being reckless in trying to fix it.

Word Count: 2.8k words

Warnings: anxiety, trauma, mentions of su*c*de

Scott Lang did not mean to traumatize Peter Parker. In fact, they were in a fight with minimal rules of engagement, so there was no real reason for Peter to resent Scott at all. Peter knowing that Scott was not at fault was never helpful in stopping nightmares or panic attacks when he was mid-swing in Queens. He kept reliving how he was smacked out of the air, easier than vanquishing a fly with a swatter. Even worse, Peter understood why comic books and cartoon characters were said to SPLAT on surfaces, and he wish he didn’t. Peter could feel his flesh meeting concrete and stiffening over and over, every time he started to get confident as he was flying through the air.

He didn’t want to tell Tony, mainly because he was scared that he would think Peter couldn’t handle being Spider-Man anymore, and he simply could not have it. Peter ran through all the possibilities of what Mr. Stark would say had he opened up.

“Maybe an early retirement?” Peter’d imagine him joking. “You should sit on the bench for a while Pete, maybe even see someone.”

Peter had seen someone, after his parents disappeared and then had their death’s announced in the news before he even knew. His therapist’s name was Ryan and he helped, but only at the cost of Peter getting bullied by other kids until he decided to stop going. It wasn’t Uncle Ben’s fault, he let it slip to some other parents that Peter was doing so much better with the help of therapy, and when Flash got a hold of it ——- Peter’s reputation went right down the toilet.

Plus, Tony would feel the need to get him the best and brightest psychologist out there, when really all Peter needed was to get used to swinging again, and he could force himself to do that. He started with lower buildings, but Peter decided he was giving himself too much of an out, he was babying himself. So he ditched the shipyard for skyscrapers. He had stood on top of the tallest building he could find and looked downwards. Peter couldn’t tell if it was fog, or if there was a cloud up as high as he was. He looked around and closed his eyes, figuring that he senses would kick in, or that suit Tony gave him would pick up on it, as they had discussed many nights before. He had it all planned out, with all the fail safes. He just needed to stop his hands from shaking and jump, like he’d done so many times before.

Peter braced himself, shooting down a single string of web to see how far he was really going, if he would be able to pull himself back up on another building. As he was standing there calculating and looking around, he lifted his mask to get a different view.

“What on earth are you doing?” The almost robotic voice came from behind him, and he turned around, he nearly lost his footing. “Kid, kid, calm down.” Tony raised his hands to signal he didn’t mean to scare Peter, but it was way too late for that.

“Hey- hey Mr. Stark, what…what are you doing here?” Peter stumbled through his words as he watched the Iron Man suit unsheathe Tony’s face.

“Well I got a call that Spider-Man looked like he was about to try and join Ripley’s Book of World Records, and I thought you might need a witness.” Tony stepped out of his suit. “Now, I’ll ask again, what are you doing?”

Peter stepped down from the ledge, and he sighed and shrugged.

“You’ve gotta do better than that Pete, the police thought you were trying to do something and I hope you weren’t…” Tony’s voice was desperate, and he was running out of options the more Tony spoke. Peter looked down and saw three cop cars looking up, probably only seeing a red silhouette.

“I was trying to get myself to be Spider-Man again,” Peter cut him off, in a rushed jumble of words. The implication of what Tony and the police thought he might be doing sounded way worse than anything Peter could think of in that moment. Tony would have benched him forever if he was even close to thinking that was the truth.

“What?”

“Ever since Berlin, the airport, when Scott smacked me out of the sky.” Peter breathed. “I can’t get it out of my head Mr. Stark.” Tears started to stream down his face, his voice was breaking.

“FRIDAY, call the car to 7th and 12th, big building can’t miss it,” Tony spoke to his suit.

“Where are we going, I can’t, my Aunt May,” Peter tried to object, wiping the tears roughly off his face, but Tony shook his head.

“Avenger’s Compound, I’ll tell May I’m keeping you overnight with a note for school tomorrow. And FRIDAY, tell Ms. Potts Peter is coming please.”

“You got it, sir.” Peter could hear Friday’s muffled voice.

“How’d…how’d they know to call you?” Peter cleared the rest of the moisture from his face.

“I have a few friends on the force, who let me know if the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man is about to do something incredibly stupid.” He stated, plainly.

Peter nodded slightly and just stated the word ‘oh’ before Tony’s phone rung to alert them that the car had arrived.

“Shall we?” Tony pressed his chest, and his suit collapsed into a housing unit that looked large and clunky. “Don’t mind that, it’s just something I’m testing out a housing unit for nanoparticles. There’s still a few kinks I need to work out.”

“Nanoparticles?”

“Yeah, I’ll show you all of it at the compound.”

He ushered Peter into the elevator, where he slid back on his mask, and dropped his head. He wondered what his dad would have said if he were there. They had such limited time together, and so much advice had a time stamp on it. Peter couldn’t apply the “don’t worry unless I tell you to” anymore, because his dad couldn’t. Peter couldn’t help feeling drawn to Tony for advice, even though he hadn’t wanted to ask for it in the first place. He had actively tried avoiding looking at Tony as a father figure, and instead like a mentor. There were a lot of self willed rules that Peter was miserably failing at.

They were silent in the car, Peter sat there and put his head against the seat as Tony instructed him to call May. At first, Peter wanted to beg him to just let him go home, that they could talk tomorrow, but something told him that Tony wasn’t letting him out of his sight.

“Peter? What’s going on? I was about to text and ask if you wanted to do grilled cheese for dinner, I’d just need you to pick up tomato soup!” Her voice was normal, and steady.

“Hey, May, I actually can’t, Mr. Stark invited me up to the compound tonight…” Peter trailed off, hoping that Tony would cover for him, so that May couldn’t detect any kind of sadness from him.

He did, he snatched the phone out of Peter’s hand and made up some lie about how he’s never seen his work in action and figured that he should. Of course, Aunt May agreed easily, knowing that Peter was safe indefinitely with Tony. He handed the phone back to Peter.

“Are you on your way? Do you need to stop at home for pajamas or anything?”

“No, no it’s okay, it’s fine,” Peter said hurriedly into the phone. “I love you, I’ll text you when I head to bed. Bye.” He hung up after she responded, and put his head back again for a while, only to look up and see they were there.

Upon entering, Mr. Stark’s friend who he’d only ever known as Rhodey was standing there talking to a bunch of holograms in suits.

“I want you to tell Stark that if he has intel on where the rest of the Avengers are, he needs to fess up. My head’s on the chopping block and I won’t let him make a fool of me for much longer,” a salt and pepper haired man said.

“Secretary Ross, I’m starting to think you have a crush on me,” Tony faked a smile, earning a smirk from Rhodey.

“Stark, you haven’t returned any of my calls.”

“And I’m not continuing this one, c’mon kid,” he nodded to Rhodey and Ross and led Peter to a room.

“Clothes, shower, then ask Friday to guide you to the lab so we can talk,” he put his hand on Peter’s shoulder. “I’m not disappointed, I’m not mad, and we’re gonna just talk.”

Peter nodded and murmured a thank-you-Mr.-Stark as he left the plain and modern looking room. He showered, and noticed that it wiped any smell off of him, figuring the soap must be completely scentless. Then he found basic clothes in the drawers, an assortment of navy blues, blacks, blues, and whites. He opted for a white sweatshirt and a pair of navy blue joggers, and slid back on his worn sneakers.

“FRIDAY?” He asked.

“Right this way, Peter,” it replied, and a small light strip in the floor illuminated. When he finally reached the lab, Tony had on a paid of goggles and looked like he was welding something together. It reminded him of how when he was younger, and Tony Stark revealed that he was Iron Man, there was a huge classroom debate of whether or not Mr. Stark made his own suits or was paying people to. Peter confidently maintained that Tony made them himself, and figured it would not be such an incredible feat if someone was just paying other people to do it.

He recounted the small story to Tony, as a way to announce that he’d arrived. Tony waited and nodded.

“Doing this is what’s gotten me through a lot of times,” he lifted his goggles up. “When I can’t sleep, when the nightmares are too much, whenever I have a panic attack.”

“You- you get panic attacks?”

“After New York, all I could dream about, all I could see, was the beginning of space and- well- the end of me.” He slid a plate with a sandwich and a cup of fruit and salad over to Peter, making a motion for him to start eating with his I’m-not-taking-no-right-now eyes. “I had this, just terrible, anxiety attack. I was out to eat with Rhodey, and some kids wanted me to sign their coloring pages or whatever. The little boy, he asked me how I did it, how I got out of the wormhole.”

“What did you do?”

“Well, I thought I was dying, so I jumped into my suit like I was on fire and flew how after, it was JARVIS at that time, told me I just was freaking out,” he explained, stealing a pineapple from Peter’s plate. Peter stayed quiet, and waiting for Tony to keep talking. “So, what does a crime fighting spidering have to do to become Spider-Man again?”

“I- Mr. Stark I just need to get used to swinging, I won’t do that again I swear.” Peter rushed and babbled on as soon as he swallowed his food.

“Pete, Pete, you’re not in trouble.” He raised his hands. “Just tell me what’s been going on.”

So he did. Peter Parker told The Tony Stark that he woke up screaming, how Scott Lang was the face he saw even though that wasn’t fair. How he thought he was seriously hurt, and didn’t know if anyone would have noticed since he kept getting up, or trying to. He described how every time he would hit the peak of a swing, he’d start hyperventilating and looking around to see if something was going to hit it out of the air. Peter listed the ways he was dealing with it, by making himself do it again and again and again until he stopped seeing Scott.

“Okay,” Tony nodded. “It’s normal. I wouldn’t have let anything bad happen Pete, I brought you there.” Peter saw something flash across Tony’s face.

“And- and Mr. Stark, it’s not your fault, I wanted to be there-“

“I recall you saying that you had too much homework?”

“Yes, but once I was there, it was different.” He admitted.

“Different?”

“Yeah I thought that it would just be like, a conversation, I thought I was just back-up.” Peter shrugged, pushing in another helping of salad.

“No, no unfortunately I needed you web-slinging skills,” Tony sighed, taking his goggles off the top of his head. “I’ll tell you what, tonight we’re gonna talk. Then afterwards, we’re gonna get someone who definitely has better advice than me for you to talk to.” Peter started to protest. “No, no you will, and May doesn’t have to know because it’s covered in your- intern- health- insurance? Yeah, your intern health insurance. Don’t ask for anything else I won’t do dental.”

“I went to a therapist after my parents died, can’t I just-“

“Just what?” He waited, and Peter took in a deep inhale.

“Why can’t I get over it? Mr. Stark, I swing off of buildings and I have a secret vigilante life. A radioactive spider bit me when I was trying to see what my dad was working towards, and now I’ve got these abilities that no one else does.” He looked Tony in the eyes. “Why is this any different?”

They sat like that for a while, just still and silent, until Tony finally spoke up.

“Often times, you’ll see that it’s not different, but what’s different is the presence of all these different things,” he said. “So you got bit by a radioactive spider, had already grieved your parents, so it wore on you a little. Then you start navigating your abilities, and it’s scary so that wears down on you too. Then a playboy, millionaire, philanthropist, Iron Man, shows up in your Aunt May’s apartment and says he wants you to fight in something you don’t have any stake in. And now you’re tired, and traumatized because your a teen boy and don’t know how to pace yourself. That sound about right, yes or no?”

Peter looked at him and nodded.

“You are Spider-Man, no matter how it’s cut. But you won’t be for long if you don’t rest. Try to learn that lesson earlier than I did, yeah?” He stood up and clapped Peter’s shoulder again. Peter stood up, not even realizing that he had tears brimming his eyes and hugged Tony.

“I thought you were gonna be mad,” Peter said, his voice breaking. Tony hugged him back tightly, and shook his head before pulling away.

“I just want you to be okay, kid.”

“Thank you- thank you Mr. Stark,” he sniffed.

“Don’t mention it. I’ll have Happy pick you up to go see Dr. Nguyen once a week, just let me know what day works for you.”

“Okay, I will.” Peter nodded. “So what’s the deal with the nanoparticles?” Peter asked, taking a bite out of the ham and cheese sandwich. He kept eating as Tony showed Peter what he was working on, and hinted that there was a new suit in the Spider-Man’s future, if he was patient. Peter was amazed, and was even allowed to tinker with a few of the different projects Tony had going. His body felt tired, but he wanted to keep going, regardless of what they’d just discussed. Tony must have noticed because he set down his tools hastily.

“You finished with your food? Take it up, Ms. Potts is eating her dinner up in the kitchen, I think she wants us to try keto but I really don’t think I could give it up next to dairy.” He said, nonchalantly. “Oh and put your stuff in the dishwasher, if we get ants in here I’ll lose it.”

“So you haven’t tried Ben and Jerry’s Stark Raving Hazelnuts?” Peter asked, after agreeing that he would clean up all of his stuff.

“They did that? God I need to get out of this compound.” Tony shook his head.

“Yeah yeah yeah, that and a Hulk of Burning Fudge,” Peter continued, carrying his plate up the stairs.

Peter had said hello to Pepper, and she asked what he was doing there, if he was finally an Avenger, which both Peter and Tony had replied no. Peter was kind of hoping that he’d say maybe, but then again it had been a long evening.

He went to the bedroom Tony had showed him at first, and texted Aunt May before collapsing on the fresh sheets. Peter didn’t even climb under the covers before he fell asleep. And for the first time in weeks, Peter hadn’t dreamt of Scott. In fact, he hadn’t dreamt of him being Spider-Man at all that night. It was the best rest he’d gotten in weeks.

#peter parker #tony stark #comfort #fanfic #peter parker oneshot #tony stark fluff #peter parker fluff #angst #marvel mcu #marvel cinematic universe #captain america civil war #spiderman #iron man

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cotncandyboifics · 3 years

Text

A Lovely Night: Chapter 6

AO3 Link

Masterpost

Chapter 1 ~ Chapter 2 ~ Chapter 3 ~ Chapter 4 ~ Chapter 5

Pairing(s): pre-established roceit & prinxiety, anaroceit, eventual anaroloceit, eventual intruality

Word count: ~4k

Story summary: Roman's boyfriends had had a rivalry since before either of them had actually met Roman. Running a bit late to a date night, Roman accidentally gets them to start dating too.

General CW: non-detailed description of an anxiety attack, non-detailed description of physical pain, food, kissing, potentially triggering descriptions of physical bodies, swearing, caps lock, school settings, s-xual innuendos, slight description of gore(imagery), vague descriptions of anxiety, Implications of an eating disorder, fatigue, dissociation, suppression of stimming, implied heavy restriction (ED), inner monologue-style anxiety description, eating, (will be added to as I write more)

Chapter CW: Implications of an eating disorder, fatigue, dissociation, suppression of stimming, vague description of an anxiety attack, implied heavy restriction (ED), school setting, inner monologue-style anxiety description, food mention, eating, (let me know if i missed anything please!)

Author notes: <<>>

...

Logan did not know what to do with himself. The past week had thrown him off his figurative rhythm far more than he could have possibly anticipated.

First, a lead actor who he'd already been trying his best not to look at - with his accursed pretty hair and handsome face and big muscles - decided to attempt to court him? Logan felt mocked. There is no conceivable possibility that such a beautiful - and might he add, quite pompous and bothersome - man would have any sort of real interest in him, romantically or sexually. He shuddered slightly. He really should have taken the apple his roommate had offered him for breakfast that morning, but it was too late now.

And wouldn't you know, just a week later, a - dare he say - equally pretty man with mesmerizing blonde curls and a cheeky smile takes an interest in him at his own school . After years and years of having never been asked out, no one having taken an even remote interest in him, not one second glance, Logan had two men asking after him in the span of a single week. Men who he found atrociously gorgeous, in fact. Logan pinched the bridge of his nose, glasses riding up his forehead a bit.

This alone would have been enough. But he just had to go into that little sewing shop for his dear friend Patton's birthday present, and that boy with the purple bangs who stumbled over his words and his feet was completely and undeniably flustered by Logan's presence. Perhaps he was simply experiencing an ego boost from his two previous encounters that week with pretty men, but he felt that the attraction the boy seemed to have for him was unmistakable.

And now here he was, pacing down the sidewalk toward the library, headed off to meet - Janus, if he recalled correctly - for their first study session. He didn't know what the hell he'd been thinking when he asked to meet Janus again, the very next day no less... perhaps he felt the need to seize the moment while it was present, or however the saying goes. Regardless, while his actions had been quite uncharacteristically spontaneous, he saw no logical purpose in redacting his decision; Janus seemed to be an individual with plentiful intellect, and studying with fellow students had generally proved to be a beneficial tactic in Logan's (albeit minimal) experience and (far less minimal) research. Meeting with Janus, even if it wound up simply being this once, should be no different.

Logan avidly ignored any simmering feelings that he wanted something more than to spend time with Janus just this once.

He was shaken from his thoughts when his phone started ringing in his pocket. He examined the screen, noting the time - 2:49 PM, he wasn't late for his engagement with Janus just yet - as he checked who was calling. It was an unknown number, but the area code was local. Logan frowned, pressing the answer button.

"Greetings, Logan Lattimer speaking."

Virgil was kind of panicking.

His boyfriends each happened to meet this super-cute space-nerd guy in the span of a week, and the second they'd talked to him they were all heart-eyes. Not that Virgil was complaining; the guy sounded really cute.

He knew first hand now, that he was in fact super cute . That was the problem.

Virgil's lunch break came and went, most of which he spent gnawing vaguely at a sandwich and staring anxiously at the contact card that had been in Logan's wallet. It simply had his full name and phone number on it, nothing else. He tapped it on the desk in front of him, glancing between the numbers and his own phone, set face-up beside his elbow.

And then his lunch break had ended, and he had several more hours of worrying before he had to convince himself to call Logan.

Something occurred to him, during those hours. Should he tell his boyfriends?

What would he even say? There wasn't much to tell, at least not that warranted calling them before he got home. If he was going to make any calls, there was one he was under obligation to make first. And if he were to seek comfort in them for his obligation, what would they say?

Roman was probably the lesser option; he'd been whining about Logan all week, and now that he knew Janus was meeting with him again today, tensions were especially high. He'd be no help whatsoever, Virgil was sure of it.

And speaking of Janus meeting Logan again today... that also meant no. Calling your boyfriend who was about to see the guy you were nervous to call made the situation all kinds of awkward. No, everything would be easier if he'd simply call him.

So, shaking his shoulders out a bit, he did. He stepped into the break room, grabbed his phone and the contact card, and dialed the number.

His thumb hovered over the call button for a few seconds too long. He cursed under his breath and looked away as he pressed it, bringing the phone to his ear. it rang twice, and then a slight static preceded a familiar voice.

"Greetings, Logan Lattimer speaking."

Virgil was glad he'd drew in a breath to hold when he'd pressed the call button, because he wasn't sure he could recall how to breathe properly.

"Hey, this is Virgil, um, from the knitting supply shop? Uh, you kinda left your wallet here..." Virgil managed to cough, voice not breaking as much as it could have. His chest felt cold and constricted, and he wrapped one arm around himself to fight off the burn of the icy spears stabbing through his lungs.

"Ah, hello Virgil. I am currently on my way to a separate engagement, however it should not take long. At what time would it be acceptable for me to return to your place of business to retrieve my belongings?"

"Oh, uh- I'll be here till four," Virgil stuttered a bit, surprised at how fast Logan jumped to planning mode, as well as realizing he knew the precise nature of the so-called separate engagement Logan was about to attend.

"That is adequate. I will make sufficient efforts to arrive before that time. See you then."

With that, the line disconnected, and Virgil was overwhelmed by the eerie silence of the break room. He glanced at a half-empty box of donuts their manager had brought in yesterday.

He could have said that the shop actually closed at six, and that Logan could get his wallet from Emile, but his train of thought hadn’t been screwed on properly when he’d been speaking, so he could grant himself a little slack- wait, he was mixing his metaphors now...

Suddenly, the door swung open, Emile peeking out from behind it.

"Virgil, could you get back out here? We've got a little rush," and he ducked out, gone as quickly as he’d arrived.

Virgil sighed, shuddering away his anxieties, grabbing a donut hole and popping it into his mouth before heading out to join his colleague.

Janus was sitting at a table set between the rows of shelves, reading pensively beneath a subtle desk lamp where Logan found him. He glanced up and smiled gently when Logan arrived, who set his things down beside a chair opposite from Janus'.

"Apologies, Janus, but I must cut our studying session short in about 45 minutes - i left my wallet at a nearby shop this morning, and must retrieve it before 4pm." Janus' eyes sparked with something Logan couldn't place, and he hid a smirk behind steepled gloved fingers. Logan gulped imperceptibly. "Perhaps we can set up another time to study as well- um, to make up for it, I mean?" He rushed his words out in a short breath, running his fingers through his hair to collect himself. Janus' smirk broadened very slightly, and Logan found himself watching the lines of Janus’ face as they shifted.

"It would be my pleasure." Janus averted his eyes for a moment, eyebrows furrowing slightly as he thought. “Perhaps we should exchange information, so that I might- so that we can settle on a proper time for another engagement.” Janus reached into his inner coat pocket, producing his phone and tapping away for a moment, before passing it to Logan. He took it carefully, recognizing a blank contact screen, and quickly entering his information into it. He handed the phone back to Janus with a tight smile, and Janus returned it, sliding his phone back into the same pocket before resettling himself in his seat more properly.

Janus set aside his book to pull out a few textbooks for their critical thinking class. "If we are cutting our study session that precisely short, that would provide me with a chance to surprise-" He faltered for a moment, tone changing, though it was so subtle Logan almost thought he'd imagined it - "a friend of mine after his shift. Now, where did your class get to in the lecture today?" He started thumbing through the pages of a particularly thick but small book, holding it by the spine with one hand.

"Ah... Professor Cauley was stopped short on page 461 when he became distracted with his electric pencil sharpener malfunctioning, and class ended a few moments later. He did inform us that the other class had made it to page 465, so if you need me to catch up to you, it should only take me a few minutes." Logan was rifling through the pages of his textbook intently, not noticing Janus' surprised expression.

Janus reached a hand out, cautiously setting his hand on Logan's wrist, just beneath his wristwatch. "Don't fret," he breathed, "it appears we share the same class period. If I recall correctly, Professor Cauley’s face went positively red with rage, and he nearly broke the poor sharpener worse as he tried to unjam it." Janus chuckled shyly through his words as Logan met his eyes, smiling after a moment.

“Fascinating. I wonder how I have not noticed you in class before?” Logan tilted his head very slightly, and noticed something swimming warmly in Janus’ eyes. They were quite a very lovely golden brown, he thought.

Janus shifted, looking down to adjust his own texts, but the smirk that was growing less snarky by the second never left his lips. “It is a rather large class. It can be easy to lose faces in the crowd. I’m not sure I can pick out more than three people with whom I share that class if they were to pass me in the halls. But no matter.” Janus glanced at Logan’s textbook and notes, readying his pencil. “Shall we begin?”

Logan was talking animatedly as he hunched himself over his notes, Janus glancing up to watch his face behind its shield of deep brown bangs intermittently as he scribbled in his own notebook to (at least attempt to) keep up. Janus’ gaze was averted, however, when a repetitive chime sounded from Logan’s phone, sitting face down on the desk just beside his right forearm. He stopped mid-sentence, adjusting his posture and picking his phone up, flipping it over to view the screen. He sighed, deflating slightly, as he tapped the screen once, setting the phone back down.

“My apologies, Janus, but it appears that it is time for me to depart.” Logan stood, a colder, sharper version of himself taking the place of the one that holds a deep passion for learning. The beautiful ice crystal, despite its beauty, is still the twin of the icy shards that cut sharper than knives or spears, Janus thought.

Janus stood swiftly, joining Logan in his gathering of his personal belongings, shoveling his own texts into his own bag. “It is quite alright, I assure you, Logan.” They met eyes as Janus spoke Logan’s name, and Janus could swear he saw a subtle, blotchy pink settle in Logan’s cheeks. “I’ll be headed down Main Street, then. Perhaps-” Logan cleared his throat, glaring down and to the side at nothing in particular as he retried his statement. “I will be expecting to hear from you, Janus.” They walked side by side out the front of the library, stopping just past the doors to say their goodbyes. But Janus had a small realization, and felt the creeping suspicion crawling its way up his sides returning. He resisted the urge to shake or twitch it away, grinding his teeth a bit.

Instead of continuing to suppress his stimming, he cleared his throat, speaking to Logan. "I am headed down Main Street as well. I hope it is not out of- I hope that it isn’t inappropriate for me to ask, but...will you allow me to accompany you?" Janus asked, nearly moving to offer his arm to Logan, but deciding quickly that that was far too forward. He settled on spreading an arm out, gesturing to the concrete path before them that led to the sidewalk.

Logan offered a small smile. "That would be adequate, and not inappropriate in the slightest. I, I would enjoy your company.” A beat of silence, and Logan cleared his throat. “Just this way," and Logan set off, at an impressively brisk pace that Janus nearly had a hard time keeping up with, having been caught off guard.

They walked in stride with one another as they made their way down the street. Janus became increasingly suspicious of the scenario the closer they got to the sewing shop. From what he knew of Logan's situation, there was no conflicting evidence that would disqualify the possibility that Logan was headed, in fact, toward Virgil's workplace. Janus held his breath when they turned onto the very same block, watching Logan's body language soften as they did.

Janus took a deep breath, glancing at the sign of the sewing shop a pace or two ahead.

"Logan, there's something I wish to discuss with-"

Janus glanced at the sewing shop's sign once more as they passed, but didn't move to stop before the door until he realized Logan had done so, standing a bit stiff a few paces back.

"This would be the establishment I spoke of," Logan's eyes looked a bit hazed, vaguely pointed towards the door handle. He seemed not to have heard Janus’ beginnings of a confession. Janus’ eyebrow quirked ever so slightly.

"Interesting," he breathed quietly, and Logan met his eyes then. "Allow me." Janus reached a gloved hand out to open the door for Logan, bowing slightly as he held it open.

"Much appreciated," Logan commented, stepping through the doorway smoothly.

Virgil was sitting slouched behind the counter, typing random numbers into the cash register out of boredom. He was half considering going to bother Emile, but he was busy doing inventory. And besides, Virgil needed to stay behind the register in case any customers came in. One person behind the counter at all times, that was the rule. He sighed, bringing his hand to his face and tapping on the tip of his nose absentmindedly.

The bell chimed, and Virgil looked up from behind his mop of purple hair. His heart gave a few beats a bit harder than usual, and he felt his throat constrict slightly.

There was Logan again. And the whole rest of the world became background noise.

The line of Logan's mouth widened, creating a crease or two on each side. Virgil realized that not only was he staring at Logan's lips, but as well that Logan was smiling. At him.

"Hello, Virgil," He spoke softly.

"Hi," Virgil practically coughed, the scratch in his throat making it borderline painful to speak. "H-how was your, your day?" Virgil asked, pursing his lips as soon as his words had left them.

Logan inhaled, raising his eyebrows and averting his eyes from Virgil's intense brown ones. "It has been satisfactory." The door chimed again behind Logan as it shut, and Virgil suddenly recognized that there was another person in the room. A person whose presence felt immediately familiar...

"Ah, my apologies," Logan stepped to the side slightly, allowing the person to come into full view. There, with a small sheepish smile, stood Janus. "Allow me to introduce-"

"Logan, dear, that won't be necessary," Janus rested a gentle gloved hand on Logan's shoulder, and Virgil couldn't tell if he was about to pass out from gay panic or just regular panic. "We are... quite well acquainted." Janus smiled tenderly to Virgil, and Virgil's whirring brain slowed if only slightly. He was safe.

…but… was he though?

"Oh, is this the friend you spoke of earlier, whom you meant to come and meet? How coincidental, that we were on our way to meet the same person without either of us having any prior knowledge of it." Logan was caught up in his fascination so much that he did not notice Virgil beginning to hyperventilate, knuckles white as he gripped the counter, or the way Janus was watching, practically frozen.

But, as Logan's commentary came to a close, it was as though a flip switched inside Janus’ mind, and he quickly strode around Logan. He stepped quickly behind the counter and over to Virgil, all while nearly whispering little nothings like "oh oh oh," "hush now love," and "come here dear."

Logan's brain took a moment to catch up, and soon he was simply standing there, watching as Virgil clung to Janus' coat rather desperately. Virgil’s body shuddered in silent sobs as Janus wrapped his arms around him, tight and secure. Janus was still whispering to him, but it was inaudible to Logan now.

Logan didn't quite know what to do, and so he just stood there, feeling rather stuck for a long time. At some point, he set his backpack and the gift bag he'd gotten from this very store earlier that day down against the counter on the floor, folding his hands before him. At some point, he registered Janus giving him an apologetic look, which confused him.

And then Janus kissed Virgil on the forehead, pulling back slightly to look him in the eyes. Logan thought from the way Janus was nodding softly and the way their chests moved together, that they may be doing a breathing exercise. He couldn't focus on much else, so he tried to follow along and copy them as well. 4, 7, 8. 4, 7, 8.

Sooner than later, Janus was leading Virgil carefully back out around the counter, both looking slightly worse for wear, but at least Virgil was far calmer. Janus smiled meekly at Logan again, and he still couldn't quite understand what was happening. It appeared that Virgil had had an anxiety attack, but the way Janus had rushed to comfort him so quickly, the way he seemed to know exactly what to do-

"Here you go, Logan," Virgil's voice was a bit scratchy as he reached out his hand, Logan's familiar black leather wallet between his pale fingers. Logan cleared his throat.

"Thank you," He spoke a bit more quietly than he meant to. He suddenly felt his headache flare again in full force, and had to fight not to shake as he reached his hand out to retrieve his wallet from Virgil's hands. He barely succeeded, but Virgil seemed to notice something amiss - he was watching Logan's wary eyes with some mix of suspicion and concern.

Janus, however, had been staring at the floor, and did not notice Logan's onset of fatigue. He sighed, clearing his throat softly. "Logan, I suppose you deserve some kind of explanation. One I tried to give before we’d come in, but regardless." Suddenly Virgil's eyes were on Janus, and far wider than Logan thought possible. Janus just glanced at him, nodding gently, and Virgil's shoulders visibly relaxed. "Virgil and I are..."

Janus laced their fingers together, and Logan's vision went blurry, everything around him fading to static fuzz as he tried to remember to breathe. He'd eaten more than enough today for this to be happening, surely? ...Had he eaten today? He couldn’t recall. He could always remember ... He vaguely registered Janus still speaking in the background, but he couldn't care enough to force himself to refocus. He got the jist. He and Virgil were romantically involved, and Janus was interested in nothing more than a friendship with Logan. That was perfectly fine. He didn't mind. He forced away the roiling feeling in his gut and gulped down the sting starting to tingle in his eyes, forcing himself to nod.

"Understood," He blurted, voice a bit raspy. He turned toward the door, reaching for the handle. Before he fully exited, he threw over his shoulder, "I look forward to seeing you later this week, Janus. And thank you again, Virgil." And with that, he was gone.

He made his way down the block briskly, trying to shake the haze that clouded his vision. The only thing he could think to do was go and see Patton. He knew nothing worked magic on his body like a good black coffee.

"Virgil and I are..." Virgil looked down as Janus laced their fingers together, and looked back to Logan, whose face seemed to have gone paler than it normally was, which was quite horrifying to see. Considering Logan was already so white that his skin tone bordered on inhuman, now it was devoid of any pricks of red coloring and looked almost like an empty tinted gray, pronouncing his cheekbones and eye bags even more so. Janus looked between them, continuing after a moment, "...we have been romantically involved for several years now, and even longer with our partner Roman, who you may recall from the community theatre? He's expressed to us that he's quite taken with you, in fact... And I know this may be a lot to spring on you right now, but I thought you deserved to know... it felt wrong to pursue anything with you romantically when we- when you didn't have the facts straight, and even regardless, it's important for you to know that all three of us are-"

"Understood," Logan cut Janus off, nodding. He didn't speak harshly, in fact his voice was quite quiet, but it was curt and forward as Logan always was, and so cut through Janus' words like a frozen blade.

Janus looked at him in awe, and opened his mouth to speak, but Virgil gripped his arm before he did. Logan was already at the door. He glanced over his shoulder, but didn’t really look at either of them. "I look forward to seeing you later this week, Janus. And thank you again, Virgil." Janus and Virgil watched as Logan walked out the door and straight down the sidewalk through the shop window.

Emile, who apparently had been standing there for at least a few moments, cleared his throat awkwardly. Janus and Virgil looked at him in unison, matching exasperated looks on their faces.

"U-um, Virgil, I was just gonna check in, see if you've clocked off." Emile wrung his wrists between his fingers awkwardly.

"Um, no not yet," Virgil bit the corner of his lip, muttering a 'sorry' as he stepped past Emile and paced quickly to the back room to clock off. Janus stared blankly at the floor where his boyfriend had just been, eyebrows knit in thought.

"You feeling a-okay there, Janus?" Emile dipped his head a bit to get Janus' attention gently. Janus blinked a few times, engaging with Emile as he re-centered himself in the present moment.

"Yes, Emile, I'm fine, thank you," Janus rubbed his gloved palm with his thumb anxiously. He couldn't think of anything to add, so Emile smiled carefully, nodding and stepping away to resume whatever busywork he needed to attend to.

Virgil was back again shortly, his backpack slung over his shoulder. He gave Janus a strange look, some kind of combination of pity and sadness and confusion. At least, that's how it looked to Janus.

"Ready to...?" Virgil gestured vaguely towards the door, leaning into Janus' personal space a bit. Janus offered him his arm, clearing his throat and holding his chin high.

"Yes, love. Let's get home to Roman."

As they walked to the bus stop together, neither had any clue what they’d say to their Prince. He’d be distraught, they were both sure, and significantly more so than he already was, which would be… intense. Janus squeezed Virgil’s hand in his own slightly, and smiled somberly at him sideways.

They’d figure this out. They always did, eventually.

Janus took his time on the bus typing out a message to Logan, Virgil watching from the seat beside him as his head laid on Janus’ shoulder. Janus settled on something simple.

To: Logan L It's Janus. I'd love to meet up to study, or perhaps discuss other things, some time this week. Let me know if Thursday or Friday works better for you.

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cafeinthemoon · 3 years

Text

Tobirama with s/o who’s secretly developing a new (and dangerous) jutsu 🌊

So this is the continuation of the anon request and Hashirama’s part was already posted (you can read it here). I posted it first because when I finished writing it I thought it was too long and it would be better if it remained as a separated post. But now we have the Second Grandpa dealing with his own s/o who’s developing a new and potentially dangerous jutsu. I hope you enjoy!

Fandom: Naruto | Tobirama Senju

Symbols: 💗 | ◽ | ▶▶

Warning: longass post ahead

Having his own business to mind, of course Tobirama wouldn’t interfere in your activities unless he has a good reason for that

He knows you prefer to train by the evening/night to avoid the hot weather and intromissions, so that he never does an interrogatory or try to keep you at home, things he would normally do in case you’re going on a dangerous mission or if he thinks you are hiding something from him

And that’s why you know that you couldn’t keep your secret for much longer when he starts doing this

“Are you sure you are carrying everything you need with you? Have you enough medicine in case you get hurt? Are you taking breaks during a session and another?”

It’s becoming harder to dismiss his suspicions worries as the days pass

Truth is that he has been noticing some changes in your mood

You’ve been more tired, more serious and more anxious these days, as if you had a problem in mind that you couldn’t just keep aside until you get it fixed

Besides, this is exactly your behavior when you are trying to overcome a specific difficulty during your training… or when you’re trying to develop a new technique

Tobirama knows that because he recognizes these traits in himself, and you’re always there to keep them under control, otherwise he would spend days without proper rest and meals, as well as sleepless nights. So it’s only natural that he does the same towards you

However he doesn’t take any attitude based on suspicions, so he waits until he gets some proof that you’re getting into danger

When you get home and the first thing he sees is the bruise you got on your shoulder, he recognizes it as the proof he’s been looking for

He doesn’t say a word about it, but you see it in his eyes: he’s worried and is preparing to do something about it. Right now he’s just trying to be fair by giving you time to speak for yourself, but you know, he’s going to act

Still, you’re determined to keep going: the jutsu is almost finished, you can’t just give up on it now

You keep thinking like this even during that night, when the physical damage is increased by the chakra’s consumption: at first you could hide some of the scratches and bruises you got, but now this is impossible

There’s just some little details to fix, and then the jutsu is complete

You are working on this right now, bruised, exhausted, but full of hope. Your hard work is finally going to pay off…

But you never see the last second

You sense something cutting the air close to you. You look at the object’s direction and find a kunai. But not just any kunai: this one has a seal wrapped around it. A seal you know well

Before you do anything, the environment around you suddenly changes and now you find yourself in a place away from the one where you were performing the technique

And you’re not alone: Tobirama is there holding you in his arms

You are almost running out of chakra, but the exhaustion doesn’t stop you to understand what happened: he followed you, found out what you’ve been up to and used his Hiraishin to stop you

After stopping you in time, he lets you there, goes catch the kunai and comes back to you in a flash

Right now, you’re numb: you’re unable to feel anger, fear, desperation or frustration. You can’t even think of arguing

You just let him take you back home using his jutsu

You don’t know what happened then. You have a vague memory of being carried to your bed and then passing out

When you wake up, it’s morning. You look around and find Tobirama looking through the window. He immediately turns to you when you try to sit on the bed

You’re still weak. You don’t want you, but you are forced to accept his help

He gives you an explanation you didn’t ask for

“You have lost almost all of your chakra. I used my kinjutsu to heal you as a first aid, and thanks to it you have a chance to recover. Despite that, you are not leaving this bed for some time”

Now you’re capable of some reaction, and your reaction is to ignore what he just said and try to stand up

Of course you fail and he catches you before you reach the floor. You try to dismiss him, saying you’re just going to get some water

“I can get it for you. Go back to bed”

“STOP THAT”

He falls silent and you fall back to your spot, because the effort you put into that scream was too much

You two stare at each other, and this time you’re the first to speak

“Why did you do that?”

Tobirama tries to avoid the question

“Y/n, we are not having this conversation. Not in your conditions”

“Yes, we are!”, you don’t scream, but just because you can’t and not because you don’t want to

You continue to speak between one sigh and another

“Do you have any idea of how hard I’ve been working to complete that technique? How many time and effort I’ve spent on it? How many nights I’ve needed to dedicate to it? I was almost finishing it! And you just screwed up everything in the last moment! That’s unforgivable!”

Since you chose to have this discussion, he’s now engaged on taking it to the end

“Unforgivable is to let you kill yourself and do nothing about it. What you call screwing up everything I call saving your life. Show some gratitude at least”

“How could I show gratitude when you interrupted my work?! Would you do it if I interrupted yours? Or are you going to try and convince me that your work is not that important?”

As the creator of countless techniques, that’s a sensitive spot for him and you know that

But this attempt to make him put himself in your shoes only gets him irritated

“A technique is not as important as someone’s life, y/n. You are an experienced ninja. You should know that!”

“Good! Now go and tell this to the ones on which you used your Edo Tensei!”

Tobirama stands up and for a second you see a strange bright in his red eyes. You never saw that before, but once you do it you know you’ve push it too far. You even think he’s going to kill you right now

But what he does is almost as serious as it, or so you think

“And for what reason you think I declared it a forbidden technique?! Think of it and you will see that it’s the same with the present case! It’s true that I completed Edo Tensei, but if I could undo this, I would. However in your case we still have a chance, so you are not going to finish this jutsu. I will seal it as a kinjutsu!”

Now you can’t believe you ears. He wants to seal your jutsu, for which you’ve worked so hard?! Who he thinks he is?!

“Tobirama! I created that jutsu! It is my jutsu, not yours! I don’t need to justify myself because of it if you won’t hear me, so once I get out of this bed it will be completed, whether you like it or not!”

Now his tone changed

“Y/n, you know what will happen if you insist on this”

But now you don’t give a damn

“I know what will happen if I stay here and let you take over everything. Right now I regret giving you permission to mark me with your seal. If I knew things would get to this point, I would never agree with such absurd”

You see the change in his expression and body language. However, it’s too late for him. Now you made up your mind and you’re not willing to change your decision

“If I can’t leave this bed for now, I will stay until I’m fully recovered. But once I get better, I’m leaving”

During your treatment (that extends for the next days), you barely talk. Tobirama refuses to say anything that slightly sounds as an apology, and so do you. You just talk when it’s necessary, like when you need a favor from him or when he asks if you’re feeling better

You do your best to get well soon and to be able to walk without help. The sooner you get better, the sooner you will leave. Tobirama notices your effort but keeps quiet about it. If you want to leave after the recovering time, then you will leave. He won’t stop you

One day, he enters the room and finds you on your feet, looking through the window

He closes the door without making a sound. He tries to stay composed, but it’s impossible to hide the nervousness in his eyes: you are leaving him today, and since you are as stubborn as him, there’s nothing he can do

When you turn your back on the window, you see he didn’t come with empty hands: he’s holding some scrolls that he puts beside the things you started to pack

You don’t need an explanation: you recognize the scrolls of your jutsu

You raise an eyebrow

“I thought you said you were going to seal my jutsu”

He doesn’t seem bothered by your tone

“I brought it here not only to give it back to you, but to propose an agreement”

An agreement, uh? You should have expected something like this. It is so like him

“I’m listening”

Tobirama explains that he has been studying your notes and thanks to it he came to understand the structure and nature of the technique. This is how he found the failure that resulted in the abnormal chakra consumption that almost killed you

His idea is basically this: he would help you to fix this weak point since you will continue to work on the jutsu. If it works, everything’s fine, otherwise the jutsu will be sealed

You are determined to have your technique back, so you accept the offer. However you state that it won’t make you stay. He agrees

You two start working as soon as you can

At first, your stubbornness and resentment get in your way, and it seems it’s not going to work. You’re still mad about the way he interrupted you before and can’t help thinking he’s doing the same now, and he thinks you’re being childish instead of focusing on what’s supposed to be the most important, the jutsu

You spend a long time arguing with each other over minimal stuff. Many times, you think of giving up and restarting everything without his help

But your pride doesn’t let you do that, and you keep trying

As the days pass, however, Tobirama observes your determination and his criticism diminishes. Apparently he starts to understand how this is important to you

You, on the other hand, see that his will to help you is not an excuse to make you give up as you first thought. Besides, you start to remember of his dedication when he was taking care of you even though knowing you were determined to leave him

It’s when things start to work

Now you both are willing to talk and to listen to each other, as well as to agree with each other. And when things don’t happen as expected, you don’t blame each other; instead, you try to find a solution together

And then there’s this time when you find yourselves stopping the work and talking as you haven’t done in a long time

You end up saying that when Tobirama stopped you from completing the jutsu, the thing that hurt you most was not the interruption, but he fact that he never asked you your reasons to create such technique, or why you were working alone on it

To you, being heard, understood was the least you expected from the person you love, and not having this was both painful and frustrating

Tobirama, on his turn, admits that this argument was similar to the ones you’ve had before because the source of the conflict was the same as in their case: the lack of clear communication

As much as he didn’t listen when you tried to speak and didn’t make an effort to understand your side, you ignored the fact that taking action towards what he sees as a problem is his way to show that he cares about you

Once you two make things clear, all the tension of the previous days slowly start to disappear. You don’t say proper apologies, and you don’t even need to: speaking your minds is your way to do it

He doesn’t ask if you’re still determined in leaving, neither you confirm your decision for now, but you have time to talk about it when you go back to the house

Well, you don’t exactly talk

You just unpack your things and never say a word about it again

#naruto requests #naruto scenarios #tobirama #tobirama x you #tobirama senju #tobirama headcanons #tobirama x reader #founders trio

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thesleepysphinx · 3 years

Text

Tokoyami x (fem)Reader - Agoraphobic pt. 2: Quoth the raven

Previous ⁘ Masterlist ⁘ Next

Quoth the raven, nevermore

- Edgar Allan Poe

You stood at the door of Tokoyami’s room, clutching the book in your hands in anxiety. You remembered the day everyone looked at each other’s rooms and how Tokoyami was greatly embarrassed about his. Is it okay for me to knock on his door? But if I don’t, how do I return the book? Will he be upset that someone’s at his door?

Your mind raced with questions, but you pushed them down with a deep breath. You knocked on Tokoyami’s door and waited for all of two seconds before it cracked open. You could see only a sliver of Tokoyami, as he opened the door just enough for you to see most of his face. For a moment, you forgot why you were there, that is until Tokoyami glanced down to see his book in your hands.

“Oh, thank you, (y/n), I didn’t realize I’d forgotten it,” he spoke as he moved his eyes back up to face you. There was a certain softness to his expression that you couldn’t quite pick out because of the feathers.

You held the book out with both hands. “It’s no problem! I forgot I was still holding it to be honest.”

He reached for the book and brushed your fingers with his as he grabbed it. You quickly let go and clasped your hands behind your back, trying not the blush at the accidental contact. His fingers were warm and somewhat rough, but not too rough. You didn’t know why you were so embarrassed deep inside about the contact. You hadn’t really spoken to Tokoyami much until today, so why were you so damn nervous around him now?

Tokoyami’s eyes stayed trained on the book as he kept it in front of him. His eyes still didn’t move as he began to speak again. “I apologize for leaving so abruptly. I hope I didn’t offend you.”

You were taken aback by his apology, as you didn’t really expect one in the first place. You felt heat rise to your cheeks as you responded, “Oh, no, it’s fine! I know you don’t really like being around a lot of noisy people. I promise I didn’t take it personally!” You beamed a smile at him as reassurance.

Tokoyami in all honesty didn’t know how to respond. Just like you, he was taken aback, but he was taken aback by your understanding and sincerity. In his experience, most people would tell him to go back downstairs because socializing would be “good for him.” He tended to disagree with them. But here you were, agreeing with him before he even got a chance to tell you his perspective. It was more than refreshing.

Tokoyami raised his eyes to look at you again. “Thank you… Both for returning the book and for your understanding.” He felt an intense admiration for you that was not there before that morning.

You rubbed the back of your neck in embarrassment. “Yeah, like I said, no problem!” You left your hand to linger on the back of your neck as a sudden silence overcame the both of you. As the silence persisted, you could not shake the feeling that you needed to spend more time with Tokoyami. You had an idea, but you didn’t know if it would be too uncomfortable for Tokoyami. But, you thought it was worth a shot.

“Y’know, I’m having a movie marathon with Hagakure and Ojiro later today. If you want, it’d be nice if you came too!”

Tokoyami’s feathers started ruffling as you spoke while you started to feel more embarrassed. But it was too late to back out now.

“It’s just that they get super flirty, and I’d rather not third-wheel.” You started to feel like you were pressuring him. “But don’t feel obligated! I just thought you might enjoy it. We could maybe critique the movies afterwards, like we did with Pride and Prejudice!” You rubbed the crook of your arm in embarrassment, hoping he wasn’t picking up too much on the blood rushing to your face.

Tokoyami’s grip on the book tightened as he watched you. He prayed to whatever god was listening that the ruffling of his feathers was not too noticeable. He, of all people, was being invited to marathon movies? With you? Yes, you said it was because you didn’t want to third-wheel, but at this point, Tokoyami would accept any time he could spend with you. He was becoming infatuated.

You didn’t quite expect Tokoyami’s answer. “That sounds like quite a good time, actually.” His grip tightened even more. “I hope I would not be intruding.”

You laughed at his last comment. “I don’t think it’s intruding if you’re invited, Tokoyami-kun!”

Tokoyami’s feathers ruffled once again at how you called him. He felt his breath hitch in his throat as he struggled to respond, but he didn’t have to as you kept talking.

“We won’t start for a bit, so I could text you when we’re about to start if that’s okay with you!” You beamed your smile at him, feeling a bit more confident and comfortable.

But now, it was Tokoyami’s turn to be bold.

“Actually… If you don’t mind, I would like to continue our conversation from before…” He started feeling flustered as he continued. “But, I understand if you have other engagements.”

Your cheeks heated up at his suggestion, but again, his last sentence made you giggle. “I don’t have any engagements before the movie marathon.” You let out another giggle.

Tokoyami adored the giggle as it escaped your lips. It was almost as mesmerizing as your humming earlier.

Heat continued to rush to your cheeks as you kept talking. “I’m assuming you don’t want to go back downstairs for the conversation, so…”

Tokoyami understood what you were trying to say, or rather ask, as he responds, “We can sit in my room, if you’re alright with that, that is.”

You felt your heart beat faster at his suggestion. You were just worrying about him being embarrassed by his room, but here he was inviting you in!

“Are you sure? I know last time we all saw your room you weren’t really comfortable with it…”

Tokoyami opened his door all the way to show the entirety of himself and his room. “It’s much more comfortable if it’s just one person…” He looked off to the side a bit as he considered what he wanted to say. And you’re one person I feel very comfortable with. But, he didn’t want to be too forward with you. He retreated into the room, tinted purple by his mood lighting. He took a seat on his bed as he busied himself with the cover of his book, too anxious about looking back in your direction.

You took a step into the room, getting a better look at it than you did when you first moved in. Back then, Tokoyami had stood in front of the door, trying to block anyone from seeing it. But now, he left the door open. For you.

You find your voice as you ask, “Would you like the door closed?” You asked out of respect for his privacy, but the thought of being alone with him behind closed doors was flustering.

Tokoyami glanced up at you, his eyes shining despite the minimal light. “Ah, yes, please. If you don’t mind.”

You gently closed the door behind you as you kept surveying the aesthetic of the room. “I’m surprised you don’t have a bust in here for the sake of irony.” You laughed at your comment.

“I’m not sure I follow…”

You walked towards an arrangement of books, surveying the titles, as you explained, “The Raven by Poe. I just felt you’d be the kind to find irony in it, since… you know.” You gestured towards his head.

Tokoyami felt his eyes widen and his feathers ruffle once more, hoping the darkness hid the ruffling enough. You knew Poe? He was so pleasantly surprised that he couldn’t comment on your suggestion of a bust.

“I was not aware that you knew Poe.” He took a moment to think. “Though, I probably shouldn’t be surprised. His works are classics themselves.”

“I’d like to think I’m well-read anyways…” You took a seat in Tokoyami’s desk chair that seemed more like a throne than anything else. “Favorite work from him?”

Tokoyami was caught off guard by the question. He didn’t expect you to be so interested in his own interests. He took a hand from his book and held a finger under his beak in thought. No one had ever asked his favorite work by Poe, so he had never had to consider it before. But after a few moments to mull it over, he responds, “The Masque of the Red Death.”

You were surprised by this, but didn’t know why. Maybe you just expected something different. You pulled your feet up onto the chair to hug your knees. “Any particular reason?”

Tokoyami took a breath, keeping his eyes trained on the book in his hands before explaining. “Many that Poe loved were taken by disease. I think he wrote it based on his own experience.” He paused and met your gaze. “Money cannot save you from something that has no use for it.”

You smiled at the philosophical statement. “Quoth the raven.”

Tokoyami closed his eyes and smiled lightly back at you. “It seems you’re not letting go of The Raven. Is that your favorite?”

You took a moment to ponder yourself, but came up with an answer quicker than Tokoyami did. “The Tell-Tale Heart.”

“Ah, yes, that one is brilliant. What is your reasoning for it?”

“Well, I think it has a pretty cool message. No matter how hard you try to hide something, you have to tell the truth eventually.” You felt this message sink into your skin as you spoke it. It sank into Tokoyami’s as well.

Tokoyami pondered the message. “He was trying to hide a murder. Do you think that applies in the real world?”

“If it didn’t apply in the real world, then how would Poe have written about it?”

That question gripped Tokoyami’s heart fiercely. He had never really had anyone to discuss literature with, but here you were, not only discussing it, but analyzing it. Applying it. He had never felt a connection stronger. It took much will power for Tokoyami to calm his heart and come back down to earth. But once he did, he came up with another idea.

“Have you ever read The Black Cat?” Tokoyami questioned you.

You tilted your head in interest. “I don’t think so, but it sounds familiar!” You beamed a smile at him again.

Tokoyami smiled back as he got up from his bed and strode over to his row of books beside you. He replaced Pride and Prejudice in its spot then reached for a book that appeared to be an anthology of all of Poe’s works. He would be the one to have all of his works on hand you thought to yourself. How cute…

He leaned back against his desk, and you got the opportunity to fully observe his side profile. Even under his baggy hoodie, you could tell his body was lean. But you also knew from training that he had toned muscle to go with it. You knew only from the few times Tokoyami pulled back his cloak. He didn’t show off his physique as many of the other boys did. He was much more… reserved.

Tokoyami leafed through the book after a quick glance at the table of contents before landing on a precise page. Upon finding it, he held the book out for you to take. Once you did, he placed his hands behind him on the surface of the desk and asked, “Does the prose look familiar to you?”

You read the first few sentences just to be sure. “It doesn’t, I must have missed this one…” You read a couple more sentences, your curiosity piquing. You looked up from the page back at him. “Now I really have to read it… Would you mind if I borrowed the book?”

Tokoyami felt his heartbeat quicken at the proposition. You wanted to borrow a book from him? He was overjoyed, feeling a smile creep onto his face. The happiness fueled another suggestion of his. “I could read it out loud, if you don’t mind. It’s my second favorite and I would like to read it again.”

A blush formed on your cheeks at his counter-proposal, though he couldn’t see it in the darkness. No one had ever read anything to you except your parents when you were a toddler. The only person who really read to you was you. But now here was Tokoyami with his soft smile, deep voice, and intellectual perspective offering to read to you. You couldn’t say no.

“I don’t mind at all!” you said almost too eagerly. You covered it up with, “You probably have the best voice for reading Poe.” You felt more embarrassed by the addition than the original agreement.

Tokoyami’s smile merely increased with the compliment. Sure, that wouldn’t be considered a compliment to most, but it meant the world to Tokoyami. It meant the world that someone else he knew shared his interests. And because of this, because of you, his anxieties were melting away.

He gently took the book back from your hands, though this time his fingers didn’t brush yours. Oh, how you wish they had. But instead, you hugged your knees closer to your chest as Tokoyami began to read. You had been right in thinking he had the best voice for reading Poe, for as he began, you felt drawn in by his voice as it mixed with the light patter of the rain. The intricate words rolled off his tongue as if they were meant to. Gradually, he lowered himself to sit on the ground to be more comfortable as he read. In turn, you closed your eyes and tilted your head to the side so that you could focus on his words. You had never felt so comfortable with someone else before. With your eyes closed, you started to pick up the aroma of the room. The air smelled of burnt and burning candles and faintly of apple pie. They made you sink further into the chair you sat upon, enveloping you just as Tokoyami’s voice was. But as Tokoyami got halfway through the short story, a ding sounded from your phone.

Hagakure 11:23am

Where'd you go? We’re starting soon!! Get over here!!

Masterlist ⁘ Next

Let me know what you guys are thinking so far! I'm gonna keep it really slow-burn, probably to the point where everyone will get frustrated! Stay tuned :)

#mha #mha x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #tokoyami x reader #tokoyami #fumikage tokoyami #boku no hero academia #fumikage #agoraphobic #bnha fluff #fanfic #mha fanfiction #my hero academia #my hero x reader #x reader #mha fluff #edgar allan poe

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bangbangchanie · 4 years

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pretty girl || mark lee

♡♡♡♡

Description: you and mark can't be together because you're a princess and he's your royal guard, but all you want to be is his pretty girl

Genre: angst, fluff, slightly mature themes (barely lol)

Pairing: princess!reader × royal guard!mark lee

Warnings: minimal cursing, no real smut but kinda mentions of it?

Word count: 3.2k

A/N: i wrote this MONTHS ago and i love it for the most part but part me still feels like it's lacking but admin winnie bullied me into posting it 🤧 i hope you guys love it 🥺💕 - Admin Peachy🍑

♡♡♡♡

You had been tossing and turning all night. No matter how you lied in bed, you couldn’t fall asleep. No position felt comfortable enough and your mind was flooded with thoughts that were keeping you awake. There was only one way to fix it…one person.

“Mark,” you called out, your voice slightly echoing in your large bedroom.

It was only a matter of seconds until the door opened. Mark poked his head in, making sure he hadn’t just been hearing things. “Yes, Princess?” he asked, seeing you awake. “Is something wrong?”

You sat up, turning your bedside lamp on. He could see the pout on your face, knowing he was going to be roped in. “I can’t sleep. Will you please come in and keep me company? I need someone to talk to.”

Pillow talk was one of the few ways you fell asleep quickly…and Mark was your favorite person to talk to. “I’m not sure I should be in your room this late at night, Princess.”

It wouldn’t have been the first time; he had been alone with you in your room at a much later hour before doing much more sinful things.

“Mark, as my personal guard, I order you to come talk with me until I fall asleep,” you told him. You both hated and loved using your royalty to boss him around. On one hand, you loved having the power in the relationship. On the other, however, you hated the feeling that he would only be with you if you ordered him to.

With a sigh, he entered your bedroom, shutting one of the French doors behind him. Ever since your engagement, he had always been reluctant to be in there late at night. “What’s wrong, Princess?” he asked, sitting at your side of the bed.

You frowned. “Don’t call me that. You know how I hate it.”

He did know. His demeanor softened and he reached out, tucking some hair behind your ear. “What’s wrong, pretty girl?”

If it was anyone else, you’d absolutely despise the pet name. Really, Mark Lee was the only guy to ever make you feel so soft and throw everything you had once believed in out the window. You never wanted to marry and settle down, have kids, or anything like that until you had met him. Unfortunately, he was your personal guard and couldn’t be anything more.

“I don’t want to do this,” you finally told him. “I don’t want to get married in two days. I don’t want to try on my dress tomorrow. I don’t want to live this way anymore.”

Reaching out, you placed your hand on his. “I want you, Mark Lee.”

He winced slightly at your words, taking his hand away from you. “I know, but we can’t be together. You’re engaged, Y/N, and your parents would never let us marry,” he reminded you. “This is how it must be. Maybe one day we’ll finally be together, but not now. You need to stay loyal to your husband.”

You wanted to correct him that he wasn’t your husband yet, but you didn’t. “He doesn’t want this, either. You know what he’s doing right now? Probably fucking two other girls.”

“Language, pretty girl.” Seriously, anyone else correcting you would have pissed you off. “I know you both are against this, but it doesn’t change the fact that we can’t be together. Even if you want to be with me, you’re better than him and won’t do anything.”

Despite how much you loved him, you hated him for knowing you so well. You wanted to tell him that he was wrong, but you couldn’t.

“I’m tired now. You can leave,” you sighed, getting under the covers once more and turning on your side so your back was to him.

He frowned and also sighed. “Don’t be like this, Y/N.”

Like what? He was the one denying you and telling you that it was over…that he wasn’t even going to fight for you. You were too upset to care how childish and selfish your thoughts were.

“I’m not being any way, I’m just tired.”

Still, he knew you better than anyone else did and he knew you were lying. Standing up, he turned your lamp off before kissing your head and bidding you sweet dreams. You didn’t even get the chance to tell him how handsome he looked in the new white uniform.

♡♡♡♡

“You look gorgeous,” your mother cooed, walking over and adjusting the wedding dress sleeves a bit.

You stared in the mirror with disgust. “I look like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man,” you told her, making her giggle.

She had to agree that it was a very poofy dress. “Fine, fine. Let’s do the next one.”

Going back behind the divider, you changed into the next wedding dress. The skirt was still poofy, but the rest wasn’t. You liked it the most as you felt it still managed to show off your figure. Most of all, it truly made you feel like a princess. If only you were marrying your true prince.

Stepping out from behind the divider, your mother and some of the castle staff gasped. They were all in awe of how gorgeous you looked and how much you had grown up. You yourself couldn’t even deny how amazing you looked and how great the dress made you feel.

“I’m gonna cry,” your mother said, wiping away some tears and making you giggle slightly. “Oh, you look gorgeous, darling. You’re gonna make such a beautiful queen.”

Right. Queen. You didn’t want to be queen. You didn’t want to move. You didn’t want to have to leave Mark behind in a different kingdom. Just the idea broke your heart and you had been in denial since you found out about the marriage.

Staring at yourself in the mirror, you knew it was the perfect dress, but it seemed devastating to waste it on a wedding with someone you didn’t love. “Let’s get Mark’s opinion,” your mother suddenly spoke up. “I want a male’s opinion.”

One of the ladies rushed to the doors, calling out for Mark. He entered just moments later, eyes widening at the sight of you. His footsteps halted, so stunned by your beauty.

“How does she look?”

He was at a loss for words, truly. “I…she…it’s…” he trailed off, unable to even put into words how beautiful you looked.

Your mother squealed. “Aw! It’s the one! He’s speechless, sweetie,” she told you.

You looked at Mark and smiled a sad smile. He was the one you should’ve been marrying. He finally managed out, “You look stunning, Princess.”

“Thank you,” you spoke softly, looking in the mirror again. Tears began to well in your eyes. Even though the dress felt right, everything else felt so wrong and you hated it. You couldn’t stop the tears from spilling over.

Your mother gasped, rushing to your side. “Oh, dear! Ugh, this is the dress, isn’t it?” she questioned, wiping away your tears. “I remember how much I cried when I saw myself in my wedding dress for the first time.”

But, that wasn’t why you were crying. Mark knew this and it absolutely shattered his heart.

“That’s not why I’m crying, Mom. The dress is perfect and I love it, but everything else is so wrong!” you sobbed. “I hate having to marry someone I don’t love. I wanna marry the guy I do love, not some idiot who sleeps around with any girl in his kingdom. This life…I hate it so much that I want to scream but I can’t and I just end up choking.”

Your frustration was evident as you had to massage your chest to breathe properly. You couldn’t stop your tears and you just wanted to curl into a ball for a while and sob.

Your mother didn’t know what to say. “Sweetie, I…you’re in love?” she questioned, trying to unpack the heavy confession.

Your voice cracked as you confessed, “I’m in love with Mark.”

Mark froze, shocked you finally told her the truth after all that time. She looked at Mark and blinked. “Can everyone please leave?”

The room emptied faster than ever before. Mark sighed as he left the room. He didn’t care about his job or anything else but you, and he was worried your mother would be upset. She had been upset when you initially tried to protest the marriage.

He went to his own bedroom in the servant’s quarters, sitting on his bed with a sigh. Everything was a mess and he hated that he couldn’t do a single thing about it.

You went to bed early that evening, tired from all the crying. You eventually apologized to your mother for your outburst, telling her you were fine with the marriage. It was a lie, of course, but a princess knew when to sacrifice.

Mark was still positioned outside your bedroom, much to his surprise. He had thought he’d either be fired or placed somewhere else.

“Mark,” a deep voice said. The king.

Despite constantly being close to the king due to the fact that Mark was your personal guard, he was still terrified of him. “Yes, Your Majesty?” Mark questioned, wondering what was going on. The king had never personally sought him out.

“Can we talk?”

What was Mark gonna do? Deny the king? He glanced at your door worriedly before nodding, following him outside to the courtyard where the large garden was. He had never talked alone with the king before…it felt weird and very nerve wracking.

“I heard about what happened earlier with Y/N,” your father finally spoke. “I never knew you two were so close.”

The memory of the night when you and him first slept together filled his mind and he was so glad your father had no idea. “I’m always there when she needs me, Your Majesty, even if that’s as a friend,” he confessed, unsure what to say.

Friend…it was much more than that. “I have to ask, do you feel the same way about my daughter?”

Mark was conflicted. On one hand, he didn’t want to tell the truth solely due to fear. On the other, what did it matter? Once you were married, you were leaving to rule another kingdom.

“I love your daughter very much, Your Majesty. She is very special and important to me,” he finally said.

Your father chuckled, almost scaring him. “Okay, now tell me as Mark Lee, not as her personal guard,” he told him.

The truth. “I’m in love with her too, Your Majesty. She’s my best friend here and I’d be lost without her. Your daughter is an angel and the person I cherish most. She may just be a princess now, but she’s my queen.”

Wow, he couldn’t believe he had just said that…especially to your father. “You’re a good kid, Mark. Thank you for taking care of my daughter.”

With that, your father left. That was it? Mark was expecting to be fired…maybe to even be exiled or executed. It seemed too good to be true.

♡♡♡♡

You were woken up by one of the servants the next morning. “Rise and shine, Princess! Today is the big day,” she grinned widely, pushing your curtains open.

Soon, you were eating breakfast in your bathtub as you took a much needed bubble bath. Once that was done, your hair was being blow dried before it was styled and you had your makeup done. You knew wedding preparation took time, but it felt like years had passed. You were still getting your hair and makeup done two hours after you got out of the bath, granted there had been some breaks in between.

“Wait, that isn’t the dress,” you said as it was carried in. “That’s my dress for after the ceremony.”

It was a very simple white, floor-length silk gown. While it was still gorgeous, it was the wrong dress. “The queen said we’d be starting with this dress,” the servant informed you, also unsure of what the deal was, but orders were orders.

You had no idea why your mother said that, but you didn’t argue. You were done fighting and ready to just be a good princess.

Once your hair and makeup were done, you stared in awe in the mirror. You looked beautiful…more so than you had ever felt before.

“You guys did such an amazing job,” you told the staff with a smile. “Thank you.”

It may not have been your ideal wedding, but at least you were going to look great, so that was something.

They helped you into the dress and you were stunned, so you could only imagine how you would feel and look in the actual dress.

“You look absolutely gorgeous, darling,” your mother told you, poking her head inside. “Are you ready? We’re starting early so you can meet some people first.”

Nodding your head, you stood up and walked over to her, glad the heels were tall enough so you didn’t have to pick the dress up much. She linked her arm with yours and you met your father downstairs.

He smiled. “Wow, my little girl is all grown up,” he said, fake crying.

“Dad!” you whined, gently pushing him with your arm, a smile on your face.

He seemed satisfied as he chuckled. Joining your side, you wondered who you were meeting. Most likely, it was the groom and his parents just once more before the ceremony.

You guys stepped outside and you were surprised. You had been expecting it to be loud from both the guests talking and the string quartet playing music, but it was fairly quiet. You could still hear some talking, but not much and no music.

“What’s going on?” you asked as they led you over to where the wedding was to be held. You just about gasped at the sight. All that was there was the aisle runner and the floral wedding arch. There were no tables and only the staff were there talking as they cleaned some things up.

Mark appeared suddenly with a smile. He wasn’t wearing his uniform but a black tux instead. “Mom, Dad, what’s happening?”

Your mother smiled down at you, brushing some hair out of your face. “Sweetie, we are so sorry for not being more understanding about your feelings. We talked last night and we never wanted to be the parents that forced their daughter into a marriage she didn’t want,” she confessed. “When we first got pregnant with you, we swore we wouldn’t do that to you, but we got so caught up in ourselves and what was expected of our family. We’re sorry for not considering how you felt sooner.”

“We want you to be happy, sweetheart. If Mark makes you happy, then so be it,” your father told you, gently patting your shoulder.

Your mother nodded. “I mean, I feel absolutely ridiculous that I never even realized! All those times he was staring at you so sweetly and affectionately or you were staring at him so happily! And, like a fool, I was just like 'Wow, we hired the right personal guard for her'.”

You and your father laughed at her confession. “This may not be your wedding, but we’d both like to walk you down the aisle to him.”

With a smile, you nodded and linked arms with both of them. Your heart began to pound as Mark smiled at you. You couldn’t believe that he could finally be yours. Hugging both of your parents, they left your side and left you with Mark.

“Hi, pretty girl,” he greeted, using your pet name. “You look breathtaking.”

You grinned, reaching out to straighten the tux lapels. “You look so handsome, Mark Lee,” you told him. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

Honestly, he couldn’t either. Just the night before, he had been dreading the day. To have to see you marry another and move away would have crushed him.

“I still feel a little lost, though,” you confessed.

He chuckled softly before taking your hands in his own. “Y/N, I love you. I’ve loved you for a long, long time now. You are so sweet, caring, funny, intelligent, gorgeous, and so much more. You’re the person that can always lift my spirits no matter how upset I am. When you enter a room, it just lights up completely,” he began. “This isn’t our wedding, or your wedding, or any other wedding, but I hope that this will be the place where we promise each other forever.”

As he got down on one knee, your eyes widened. You glanced over to your parents. Your mother was crying and your father was smiling, giving you a supportive nod. Looking back at Mark, he took your left hand in his own.

“Y/F/N, I love you with all I have. I can’t imagine my life without you and I want to spend forever with you. I want to wake up next to you every day, take care of you when you need me, and just be happy with you. I want us, Y/N. Will you do me the great honor of marrying me?”

As he pulled out the ring, you saw it was the same one your father had proposed to your mother with. Tears welled in your eyes as you felt so emotional and overwhelmed by the turn of events.

“Of course I’ll marry you, Mark,” you told him with the biggest smile you’d smiled in months.

Smiling widely, he placed the ring on your finger and stood up, kissing you with more passion than ever. You had missed his taste and the way he held you when you guys kissed. You had missed him so much.

Your mother squealed happily. “Yay! Now I can plan the wedding of your dreams!” she exclaimed, making you and Mark laugh when you separated. “And you can move into the cottage! Oh, this is so nice.”

The cottage was perfect. It was still on the same grounds as the castle, so you could visit your parents every day as often as you wanted but you and Mark would still have the privacy and freedom you wanted.

“You guys are the best,” you told your parents, rushing over as quickly as you could to hug them. “I love you guys.”

They smiled, both hugging you. “We love you too, sweetheart,” your father told you, your mother humming in agreement.

That evening, you and Mark were in your room together. He was lying in your bed, reading something on his phone. You had just finished getting ready for bed and were standing in the bathroom doorway admiring your future husband. It was crazy, really. You guys met two years ago, started secretly dating a year after, then broke things off because you were arranged to marry someone else, and now you were engaged.

He looked up from his phone and smiled. “What are you doing?” he questioned before patting the spot next to him. “Come here, pretty girl.”

You grinned widely, rushing over and flopping down next to him. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer and kissing the top of your head.

“Can you believe just a year ago we thought we’d never be able to be together?” you asked. “And just this morning I thought I had to marry someone I didn’t even love.”

It truly was crazy how everything turned out. “I’m so glad we’re here, now, together.”

You were too. You were ready to start a new chapter of your relationship with Mark Lee, your best friend and the love of your life.

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assembledherethevolunteers · 3 years

Text

The Nanny Named...

A/N: Hi all! So,it’s been a while. I have been in a real nostalgic mood lately and totally binged ‘The Nanny’. Annnd then all I wanted to was write a story about it. So I’ve been writing a multi-chapter story with Y/N as Fran and Gwil as Maxwell. I hope you all enjoy this prologue. Any feed back would be appreciated! And if you’d like to be tagged, please let me know! Love you!

Pairing: Producer!Gwilym Lee x fem!Reader

Summary: You need a job after you walk out of your last one. Your friend sends you to an interview and it…doesn’t quite go as planned.

Warnings: Cursing, some angst, and cheating

You leaned over the counter, trying to make out what your boyfriend had written down for the specials for the night. Why couldn’t the man learn to write like an actual grown-up?

“Oooh, Y/N,” one of your best friends, Mel, came in. “Have you heard?”

“Heard what?” You replied, not looking up.

“J.C. and Erika? They just got engaged.”

That got you attention. You looked up at her. “Are you serious? They’ve been dating for what? Three seconds?”

Melanie laughed, taking her coat off. “I think closer to three weeks, but yeah. Isn’t that crazy?”

You sighed, looking back down at the notes. “To each their own, I guess.”

You were happy for them, on some level, but it was a bit hard when two people that you considered ridiculously obnoxious were engaged in less than a month but you and your boyfriend had been dating for almost four years and were still not living together.

“Think that’ll make Kurt move any faster?”

You shook your head. “No, there’s nothing that will make him move any faster. We’ve talked about it countless times. He’s just happy right where we are.”

“Yeah, but you’re not.”

You huffed, not disagreeing. You had wanted to at least living together by now. Maybe not married (you still weren’t even sure if you wanted to get married), but at least the notion that the relationship was going somewhere.

“Maybe you should bring it up to him again,” Mel suggested as she tied on her apron.

You thought about it. Maybe you should. It had been a few months since the two of you had had any kind of conversation about it. Every year when your lease was up for renewal, you brought it up just to see if you should renew. And Kurt always told you ‘yes’.

“Yeah, maybe. But for now, I’ve got to figure out these damn specials he’s decided to jot down like a first grader after a lunch of cake and ice cream.” You grabbed the paper and then knocked on the door to his office. “Kurt!”

“Yeah, babe?”

You went into the office to see him staring at his phone. He glanced up at you for a second before going back to his phone.

“Hi, sweetie, can you decipher this chicken scratch for me?” You walked over and sat up on his desk.

Kurt sat his phone down, face up, and took the paper and squinted at it himself. “Uh…I…huh. Ribs of some kind. I’ll have to go look in the fridge quick. Be right back.” He pressed a kiss to your temple before getting up and leaving the office.

You swung your legs, waiting for him to come back, thinking about the dinner rush on the Friday night that was going to hit. But hey, at least the tips would be good.

And then you saw something light up on the desk.

You glanced down to see Kurt’s phone on full brightness. With a notification from Tinder. Saying Kurt had 3 new messages waiting for him.

You picked up the phone and stared at it, fighting back tears. You’d had a feeling something like this had been going on, but it was a totally different story when it was staring you in the face.

“Beef ribs are the special tonight.”

You stood up and shoved Kurt’s phone at him. “Great. Maybe whoever these 3 can serve it!” You stormed out.

“Wait! Y/N!” Kurt chased after you. “This isn’t how I wanted you to find out!”

“Oh, fuck off!” You yelled at him, turning on your heel to yell at him. “This isn’t how you wanted me to find out!? What the hell kind of excuse is that?!”

“Can we discuss this back in the office?” Kurt offered quietly.

“No, because there’s nothing to discuss.” You untied your apron and threw it at him. “I quit and I am DONE with you! FOUR YEARS! I’ve wasted four years of my life on you in this stupid dying restaurant!”

“It’s not dying!”

You stared at him stunned. “That’s all you have to say? Four years down the drain and all you care about is this damn rat trap?!”

“It’s not a…!” Kurt took a deep breath. “You know what? Fine. Go ahead. We don’t need you around here!”

“Obviously!” You screamed before grabbing your coat and stomping out.

You walked all the out to the street, hailed a cab, and got in the back. You gave the driver your address and then fell apart.

“Um…a…are you alright, dear?” The cab driver asked you, glancing in their review window.

You could only shake your head. “Okay, well, there should be a box of tissues under my seat. Help yourself.”

You reached down and grabbed the box, pulling out tissues. You blew your nose and wiped your eyes.

“Just put them in the trash when you’re done.”

You nodded your thanks, making a mental note to give them a big tip.

The rest of the time the two of you were silent as you tried to make yourself somewhat presentable so your roommate wouldn’t ask what happened. You were not in the mood to talk about it.

The driver pulled up to your building and told you the total. You paid and started to make your way out before they called to you.

“Whatever it was, I hope it gets better.”

You gave them a smile and wave before you shut the door and started to into your building. You ran up the stairs instead of taking the risk of running into a nosy neighbor on the elevator. You got into your apartment and collapsed on the couch. You started sobbing into your pillow.

How on Earth could he do that to you? Sure, the two of you hadn’t gone beyond dating but four years?! You had given four years of your life! Not just romantically but you’d worked your ass off to help with his restaurant. You’d hired nearly all of the servers! And three of the cooks! Who the hell was he to kick YOU out?

You woke up to your roommate, Olivia, coming home, not sure how long later.

“Y/N? What are you doing home? Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

You sat up, your entire face felt swollen.

“Oh, Y/N,” Olivia sat next to you and wrapped an arm around you. “Did something happen at the restaurant?”

You tried to explain what happened, but you couldn’t get the whole story out without bursting into tears.

“Oh sh, sh, honey,” she rubbed your shoulder. “I know. He’s a scumbag. I’m so sorry.”

You just nodded, crying into her shoulder.

“Do you want me to call Rosie and see if she’ll let some the dogs loose in the kitchen?”

You chuckled for a moment. “Think she would? I know she’s very attached to them.”

“Well, they are shelter dogs. They deserve a good meal.”

You pulled your head up and gave her a semi-smile. “You are the best person I know.”

“If only I was available to you.”

“I can love you better than Rosie can.”

“Yeah, but can you afford an apartment in Hell’s Kitchen like she can?”

You sighed, pretending to be defeated. “I guess not. I give you my blessing then.”

“I can run down to the bodega and get some wine and ice cream. I don’t have to work tomorrow.”

“Oh good, then get something for yourself.”

Olivia pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Great, I’ll be right back.”

You laid back down when Olivia stood up.

You and Olivia spent the rest of the night drinking, eating ice cream, and complaining about Kurt. It made you feel a little better.

At nearly one in the morning, you finally stumbled to your bed, hoping that you wouldn’t dream of Kurt, the restaurant, or anything to do with your love life.

THREE WEEKS LATER

“Y/N!” Olivia announced as she came home.

“Whaaaat?” you called back to her from the couch. You’d barely left it in the past couple weeks. You’d barely even left your apartment, if you were being honest.

“I think I’ve got you a job!”

You sat up and looked at her, somewhat skeptical. “Where?”

“Manhattan.”

“Oh,” you were surprised. Olivia had been trying to get you jobs, but this was the one that sounded like it might actually be promising. “What is it?”

“Rosie’s brother has a catering gig and needs a good waitress, but the homeowners want to interview everyone individually. They want you there at 3:30 for your interview.”

You jumped up. “Are you serious?!”

“One hundred percent!”

You threw your arms around Olivia’s neck and pulled her in for a hug. “Oh thank you thank you, Ollie!”

“Ooof. You better stop thanking me and get in the shower.”

You got on the subway to make your way up to Manhattan a couple hours later. You hadn’t been there since last year when a friend of yours had their 30th birthday party at some pretentious hipster bar.

You kept glancing at the passing stations, hoping that this was going to work out. You could still hear your mother’s voice in your head telling you that you should’ve known better than to take a job at the man that you were dating’s place of work.

The past few weeks, you’d been miserable. You had barely left the apartment besides your runs down to the bodega to get alcohol, ice cream, or the minimal amount of groceries that you could afford and actually wanted. Your bank account was screaming at you before you’d left the restaurant, so as much as you’d wanted to just wallow in your self-pity on the past four years of your life that you had wasted, you needed to get a new job.

You got off at the correct station and walked up the stairs, stepping onto the streets of Manhattan. This part of the city always seemed different to you. Sure, you’d grown up in New York City, but it had been in Queens.

You walked to the correct block and took in all the gorgeous buildings that were there. It sort of took your breath away, the way the trees were just starting to bud in the spring air.

You nearly ran into somebody on the street and apologized, hoping they couldn’t tell how out of place you were.

This was insane. Who in their right mind would hire YOU to work some cocktail party that was going to have people there that blew what you paid in rent on a quick trip to Macy’s? You thought about turning around and just heading home, but then you remembered that your bank account had about $15 in it.

As you walked down the street, you were hit with a strong smell of rose, jasmine, and vanilla. It was comforting and made you a bit more confident in yourself. Like everything was going to work out, regardless of how the interview went.

You glanced down at your phone, making sure that it was the right address before taking a deep breath and walking up the stairs to the front door. You knocked and then waited.

A man in a suit opened the door. He had black hair and kind brown eyes. He seemed unsurprised to see you standing there.

“Hello, are you here about the position?”

“I am.”

“Well come in, come in, Mr. Lee should be ready for you soon.” He ushered you inside, taking your coat for you. “Would you like me to drop off your resume to him?”

You hadn’t thought about bringing that.

“Oh, um…no, that’s okay. I’ll just…get it to him if he asks for it.”

The man raised his eyebrows but didn’t say anything before he lead you to the couch and gestured for you to sit down.

You sat down and waited for him to return. Or for this mysterious ‘Mr. Lee’ to appear. You looked around, amazed at how high the ceilings were.

Suddenly, there was a scream from upstairs and the pounding of footsteps coming down.

“Help! Help! I’m hurt!” A little boy with dark, curly hair came running into the room. He collapsed right in front of you, his eyes closed and his tongue sticking out.

You looked down at him, trying not to laugh. “Ya okay, hun?”

The boy opened one eye, quickly shut it again, but didn’t say anything.

“Ah, Master Aled, I believe this is the third time today you’ve passed on. I’ll make sure your father and sister mourn the proper amount,” the man appeared again, stepping over the child and coming to stand in front of you. “Miss, Mr. Lee will see you in his office. If you’ll just follow me and please don’t trip over the expired, younger Master Lee. He’ll need to get up for his Little League practice in about thirty minutes.”

“James!” The boy, Aled apparently, sat up and glared at the man, James. “You ruined my plan!”

You stood up and the two of you walked into an office. It was decorated with different awards, pieces of art. The hardwood on the floor matched the desk that was in the middle of the room. Sitting at the desk was a man writing something.

He had a dark, thick head of hair. He stood up, a pair of piercing blue eyes behind a black, horn-rimmed glasses. He was wearing a black turtleneck, gray suit jacket, and black pants.

“Hello, I’m Gwilym Lee,” he offered you his hand.

“I…um…hi,” you smiled and shook his hand. “I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Thank you, James,” Mr. Lee told him. James nodded and started to leave the room. “Now, do you have your resume?”

James sent you a pointed smirk, before leaving the room all together and shutting the door behind him.

“Um…no, I don’t. Sorry, Mr. Lee.”

He frowned at you. “Alright, Miss Y/L/N. Well, tell me about your work history then.”

You cleared your throat. Rosie had neglected to tell you that the man you were going to work for was this handsome. “Well, I’ve worked in multiple, high class restaurants over the past ten years. I was working at my last job for nearly three years.”

Mr. Lee squinted at you, but you kept talking.

“And I’ve been a server, a hostess, and a bartender. I could work anywhere that you’d need me tonight.”

Mr. Lee took off his glasses and continued to stare at you.

“S…so, um…I can give you references if you need,” you finished lamely.

“Um…Miss Y/L/N, I believe there’s been a bit of a mix up.”

“Oh,” you replied, totally defeated. “I understand.”

“It’s just…this job is far too difficult to do without any experience and I think…”

“I mean, I…I have SOME experience. I once served at the River Cafe,” you tried to argue.

“Oh no, don’t get me wrong…”

“Daddy!” A little girl came running into the room, seemingly in tears, and hugged Mr. Lee’s arm. “Aled said that there’s a monster in my closet and then he took and threw her in the closet to the monster!”

Mr. Lee picked up the girl and placed her in his lap. “Oooh Afon, sweetheart, I’m sure he didn’t mean to…”

“Yes, he did!“

“I did not!” Aled came running in too.

Mr. Lee sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Aled, please just go get the bunny out of the closet. I am in the middle of a meeting.”

“Fine, let’s go, Afon. Daddy is a veeeery busy man,” Aled grabbed his sister’s hand and took her out.

Mr. Lee just watched them leave, a somewhat longing look on his face before meeting your eyes again.

“Miss Y/L/N, this interview was for a nanny position for my children. You see, our last one just quit and I…I’ve been interviewing people for nearly a week now and…” Mr. Lee shook his head. “I’m sorry, you don’t need to hear all my woes. I’ll have James see you out.”

Why had Rosie sent you here? If this was an interview for a nanny position you were WAY out of the running. You barely even liked the younger cousins that you had. Maybe you’d gotten the time wrong and they had meant to have the caterer interviews earlier in the afternoon?

You jumped up, an idea coming to your mind. “Ya know, Mr. Lee, I actually do have some nannying experience. I was a nanny for a family on my block every summer while I was in high school.”

It technically wasn’t a lie. You’d babysat for your neighbors. Once a week. When their mom had her PTA meetings. For about two hours.

Mr. Lee was shaking his head and standing up. “No, I couldn’t subject you to this. I’m very sorry. But if we ever need a caterer, I’ll keep you in mind.” He gave you a smile, coming around the front of his desk.

You sighed and stood up. “Well, thank you for taking this interview with me anyway,” you offered your hand again and Mr. Lee shook it.

“Of course, now could I escort you to the door?”

“I suppose so,” you told him.

Mr. Lee gestured for you to go through the door and followed you out of the room.

You were halfway through the living room when the phone rang. James, who had been wiping down the coffee table, quickly grabbed the phone off the hook. “Lee residence…yes…yes…oh how unfortunate…I will let him know…yes, thank you, goodbye.” James hung up the phone and looked at Mr, Lee. “That was the service. They won’t be able to send anybody tonight. They are booked solid.”

“Oh no,” Mr. Lee rubbed his temples. “That’s totally unacceptable. What happened to that woman that we used last weekend?”

“She’s refusing to come back. Something about a near death experience,” James looked over at Aled who sunk down behind the couch to hide.

You hesitated at the door. Maybe this could be your chance. Even if he just used you tonight, as long as you didn’t kill the kids, you would get paid. And probably pretty well guessing on the house. You could at least offer, you supposed.

“Um...Mr. Lee. If you need somebody for tonight, I’d be available.”

Everybody’s heads whipped around to you, all eyes wide, surprised.

“Well,” Mr. Lee ran a hand through his hair and sighed heavily. “I don’t know. James, couldn’t you…?”

“It’s my night off, sir. Remember? I’ve got my niece’s dance recital.”

“Oh right, of course,” Mr. Lee looked you over, seemingly arguing within himself about what to do. “Look, Miss Y/L/N, I...I usually don’t do things like this, especially where my children are concerned, but I am...desperate. I’ve got a meeting with one of my biggest potential backers this evening and I need someone to watch my children. So, if you could…”

“Oh thank you! Thank you!” You pulled Mr. Lee into a hug before you knew what you were doing. “You won’t regret this! What time should I be back here?”

“Before I change my mind,” Mr. Lee muttered.

You pulled away, laughing a bit, before you heard James say something about six-thirty. You then quickly left before Mr. Lee could’ve said anything else.

You practically ran to the subway, nearly giddy. You had a job. You FINALLY had a job! You were walking down the stairs when you pulled your phone out. You had four missed calls and fifteen text messages. Just when you were going to read some of them, it started to ring. You saw it was Rosie.

“Hey, Rose, what’s…?”

“Oh, thank GOD! Ollie, she’s okay. Where the…?”

“WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?!” Olivia yelled in the phone.

“In Manhattan at the interview your girlfriend sent me!”

“Nooo, you never showed up to the interview! We’ve been calling you for almost an hour now!”

You frowned at that. Why were they so upset? Rosie had sent you to the interview, how was she so confused?

“What house did you go to?”

“The one Rosie sent me to,” you told her slowly, hoping she would calm down. “1781.”

“She says she went to 1781,” Olivia must’ve relayed to Rosie. “That’s what you told me!…Soooo, funny story. You were supposed to go to 1871. That’s where the catering job was.”

“It’s fine! I got a job anyway! I’ll explain when I get home, but I’ve got a job tonight!”

“What?...She got a job by going to the wrong house….I don’t know! She said she would explain it when she got home…When will you get home?”

“As soon as the subway will let me.”

The whole way home you felt like you were floating. You were hoping that you would at least get paid enough to buy some groceries.

How were you going to take care of two kids tonight though? They didn’t look that old. The boy, Aled?, seemed like he was about nine or ten. The girl, in the brief moment that you had seen her, seemed to only be about five or six. You supposed you could entertain them for a couple hours. Hopefully they had all the streaming services. Just stick them in front of the TV and wait it out.

You walked into your apartment and got tackled into the wall by Olivia.

“I WAS SO WORRIED ABOUT YOU!”

You laughed and gave her a hug back. “I’m fine! You leave me here all the time to go to your girlfriend’s house, but me going into Manhattan scares you.”

Olivia pulled back and glared at you. “Whatever. Tell us what happened!” Olivia started to pull you towards the living room where Rosie was sitting on the couch. “Ronnie told us you never made it to the house and then you weren’t picking up.”

You went into the whole story of what happened. Explaining the kids, the mansion, the butler, and finally, the man that hired you.

“…name’s Gwilym Lee.”

“Wait,” Rosie sat up a bit straighter. “Gwilym Lee? The producer?”

You exchanged confused looks with Olivia.

“Oh, come on, neither of you know Gwilym Lee? He was like this huge producer at Disney. He’s been involved in all the Marvel movies.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Are you serious?”

“Yeeeeeah, did you not see anything in his house that gave it away?”

“No,” you answered honestly. You hadn’t. You were sure that there was something that you had missed, but you were too worried about the interview and trying to get a job that you weren’t paying that much attention.

“And he’s going to trust you with his kids?”

You slowly nodded, suddenly much more nervous about tonight than you originally were.

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