#i am banishing shame i am hitting post

[mangostarjam]

leaving bite marks on kiyoomi's biceps. he wears compression sleeves up to the edge of his uniform shirt, so it should be fine, right?

not that you care, not that you're even thinking about it when he's got your ankles up by your ears and you're trying to stifle your moans in his skin. in the moment the sting barely registers, all of his focus is on the slick clench of you around him, the way your nails scrabble down his broad back as his thrusts grow erratic.

it isn't until atsumu spots the ring of teeth marks at the volleyball court later that he remembers.

"omi-omi, what's that?" comes out in a shriek that pierces his eardrums. kiyoomi doesn't even look at him, but the expression on his face is clearly ticked off.

"it's nothing."

"hold up, are those bite marks?" atsumu gets close enough to tug at the sleeves, but kiyoomi jerks his arm away. "what, were you fightin' a hellcat or somethin'?"

kiyoomi fixes him with a flat stare. "are you sure you go on dates?"

atsumu splutters. "whaddaya mean?! i go on tons a dates!"

"doubtful."

#sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa x reader #x reader #kiyoomi x reader #sorry atsumu i'm sure you figure it out eventually #yes i am at work yes i am avoiding work #fuji writes fic #does this count as fic? idk it just popped into my head #i am banishing shame i am hitting post #and then i'll toss my phone away and work #at my job. that i should be working at.

[ttoddii]

chapter 1

warnings: lower case intended, might have bad grammars, reader is pretty emotionless (please do tell me if there is anything i should add)

a/n: this is a pretty long story that i had been keeping in my google doc for a long while :')) i am not too confident about my writing so it took me a while to decide if i should post it or not. anyway, i do hope you enjoy reading my story, please do talk to me, i am a very boring person but i will try to entertain you to the best of my ability. have a good day!

you blink your eyes, trying to adjust to the bright light shining through the windows.

another day, you quietly sigh. slowly standing up and pull the curtains so there is no blinding light of the sun that could shine through.

turning back to the bed, you quickly glance at the clock sitting on the small makeshift study table.

“eight thirty” - you mumble to yourself, your hazy eyes quietly close again until you open them again, letting out another sigh.

this is your life

pure plain boredom

everyday is a repetitive cycle. you wake up, get ready, go to school, go to work at the small convenience store then go home.

how long has it been?

.

.

.

ah

since mom and dad banished you.

of course

you chuckle lightly thinking about that day.

how can you ever forget

...

“[name]! your performance today is ridiculous, you should be ashamed of yourself”

you clutched the hem of your black dress at your mom’s words, glossy eyes threatening to shed a tear, your knuckles turn white as you hold your small hands tightly.

you are a golden child they said

a music genius

you win every single piano competition you attend, you play with elegance that no kid your age could ever have, you make no mistake.

you take pride in it of course, you always do. to keep that pride up, you practice extra hard, practically overwork yourself making sure every single note, every single rhythm, every single beat is at its best.

so why, when, how? how can some random kid just waltz in with that music piece...the piece...“The Blue Danube” by Strauss.

“I am terribly sorry...mom...dad”

you said, voice shaky, bowing your head as low as possible, never even once do you dare look into your parents eyes, total shame wash over your body while you are still trying to figure out how did you lost.

“we can’t afford to keep a kid that brings shame upon our family, one that makes mistakes, you are now...”

...

ring! ding!

the phone notification cut through your thoughts

you walk to the small table, picking it up before looking at the text from one of your friends….

when do you ever have friends?

you furrows your brows, looking at the text while thinking who could be texting you

“are you late again? our professor is calling your name for questions”

who is this again? - you thought

oh, ji-eun

realise who it is, you glance at the text one last time before turning the phone off, not caring much about it.

taking small strides towards your closet to get change, you hum a small tune that was stuck in your head.

might as well skip school today, you can’t even pay the tuition anyway, plus, you never really care about your education after the incident of your parents.

pick up your phone and put it in your right pocket, you walk out of the small apartment

you’ll have to pay rent again soon, two days to be exact

do you have money?

of course not

in fact...you’re in debt....so deep in debt you don’t even remember how much money you owe to those men that wear random ugly pattern shirts.

hey, the good thing is you hit rock bottom already, so nothing could make it worse right?

you sit down, waiting for the train to come, you already feel shitty enough from yesterday exhausting work that your legs refuse to walk to the convenience store.

“Miss, would you mind if I sit here?”

you look up, staring at the man that wear an expensive looking suit

you stay quiet, slowly shake your head from side to side indicating that you won’t mind

“Miss, would you like to play a game with me?”

you look to your right, where the man is now seated, confusion clearly written on your face

“a game?” - you mumble, quietly questioning what he means

noticing your confusion, the man smile, he slowly open his suitcase, revealing stacks of money on one side, the other side are blue and red folded paper tiles

you glance at the stacks of money

why reveal that much money to a complete stranger? is he not scared if someone just snatches it away?

“Let’s play ddakji” - he take one of the blue folded paper and one of the red one, holding it up in his hand while smiling at you

“no, i’m not interested”

you turn away

“Everytime you could flip my folded paper, you get money”

this peak your interest as you turn your head towards him yet again

money...ah...right, you need it

your face darkened a bit hearing the word but soon returning to the normal emotionless face

“So, which color would you like?” - the man said, his smile still there

you glance at the red and blue folded paper

red...blue...is there any difference?

“blue” - you said, grabbing the colored folded paper from his hand and slowly standing up, preparing for the game.

he followed you, standing up straight and fix his suit

you could care less about him right now, you have a goal, to win, to gain as much money as you could from this random child game.

you hold you paper close to your eyes, it seems fine, though you pinch the sides of the folded paper again to make sure it’s thin enough

it’s gonna be harder for him to flip it this way

you look up from your blue paper, glancing at the man again.

that smile...so disturbing, how can someone smile so much...doesn’t he get tired?

he put his red paper down, holding his right hand out, indicating that you can now start.

#kang sae byeok x reader #squid game #kang saebyeok x reader #sae byeok x reader #67 x reader #todwriting #todd--s

[wings-of-a-storm]

I have a question. My favorite character is obviously Benji, but this season I started to get an ultimate rancidity of him.In the end I understood why he was acting like this, he has a PTSD because of dating Derek, his parents shitting him and alcohol and the accident. It's about the accident I wanted to know about, I didn't quite understand what this accident was and why he started drinking. I get upset that Benji's story is the least explored in the series, in my opinion, it should be explored more

Sorry for late reply to this, Anon! I know a few others already replied to this but I figure I’d still add my take into the mix for you. :)

I think many of us share your frustrations about Benji’s story being drip fed to us instead of being looked at more deeply. It’s a very interesting history so I really hope that in season three we might actually get a more decent look at it…

BENJI’S HISTORY / WHY HE STARTED DRINKING:

Throughout both seasons we learn that Benji has struggled with mental health.

In the most simplest of summaries: Benji struggled with internalised homophobia -- he hated himself for being homosexual and fought against it. He even experimented sexually with girls (which he briefly mentioned in S1), but in the end, he couldn’t deny that he was gay. But acknowledging he was gay and being able to accept it are two different things. He hated being gay.

In order to cope with that self-hatred and fear, he turned to alcohol to dull his reality and in turn everything he felt. He’s still learning to like himself even now in season two.

In Benji’s own words: “Before I came out, I was kind of a mess. I knew I was gay but I didn't want to be. So I drank. A lot. (1x07)” And: “Coming out was really hard for me, Victor. And it is still hard for me to be who I am. (1x05)”

BENJI’S CAR ACCIDENT:

Benji said that when he was younger, he drank 'a lot'. From that statement alone we can infer that he knew he was drinking more than his peers were. Most likely that went beyond social drinking -- he was probably also drinking by himself at any opportunity.

There is an age limit for drinking for good reason: our brains don’t fully develop until we are in our twenties, and as such, when we are younger we are more likely to make riskier choices. Adding alcohol into the mix is just asking for trouble -- as Benji found out when, one night, severely inebriated, he lost control of his vehicle (or misjudged his surroundings) and drove through/into a building. “One night I got super wasted and decided that I wanted Wendys real bad. So I took my Dad's car to the drive thru and that's exactly what I did -- drove through the Wendys. (1x07)”

That is some serious stuff right there! On so many levels!

Firstly the physical toll: he ‘totalled’ his dad’s car. To have a car written off as too smashed to be driven, that car had a huge impact! And not surprising since Benji said he drove through the building. Whether that was through glass or a into a sturdy wall, to crunch up the metal of his car, that is a massive hit. We don’t know the extent of his injuries (he just said he was ‘banged up’) but we do know that he was at the very least knocked unconscious and/or had a head injury from it (“Waking up in the hospital with my parents standing over me…” 1x07).

Secondly, the emotional toll: when Benji gained consciousness and woke up in hospital, he said he “realised that I could have died." (1x07) That is a very frightening thing to confront -- your mortality. It spooked him enough that it was the catalyst for his Coming Out. He didn’t want to die without “ever really being who I was” (1x07); to have only lived his life as a lie and not known his true self…

Most of us, I’d wager, haven’t had to confront our mortality at such a young age -- like truly confront it after going through a life-threatening experience. In that sense, he is on a different level to his peers and Victor -- a big part of his innocence has been broken and re-formed.

There is more to the emotional toll though -- not explicitly mentioned in canon but pretty much common sense:

The pain of recovery in hospital and at home (whatever “banged up” means, he was injured in some way)

The guilt of knowing his actions could have caused innocent people to have been hurt or killed. No one was hurt, he said, but just knowing they could have been is a really heavy thing to have on your conscience.

The stress of dealing with insurance (for the Wendys, for the car). He would have had to burden his parents with sorting that all out.

Police would have been involved to investigate the incident and lay charges. That’s pretty darn scary.

Losing his licence and thus part of his independence

Seeing the physical damage of the Wendys if he ever went past it again -- knowing he had done it, knowing he had been in the car that made that damage and reliving the knowledge he could have killed himself…

He was so ashamed by it all, he didn’t want anyone at school knowing about the accident or about his drinking that caused it. In 1x07 the school still didn’t know so he really guarded that secret hard.

There’s just so much heaviness linked to that accident. And Benji has only had one year to process all of that. On some level, that stuff has got to linger.

THE INITIAL AFTERMATH:

We learn that after the car accident, Benji was in an ever worse state of mind than when he was drinking his life away before it. His mother reveals: “After your car accident last year you were so hard on yourself and things were pretty dark for a while there. And you decided to put in the hard work [to go to AA and get better]. (2x07)”

Referring to Benji's post-accident self as being in 'a pretty dark place' is a pretty big alarm bell. His mental health sounds like it was pretty much destroyed. It is so hard to rebuild yourself after falling into such a dark well, but over the year he must have pulled himself back from the brink. That is so, so heavy!

It’s hard to gauge whether Benji chose to go to AA himself (which seems to be implied), or whether it was a condition of his charge through the police, but he went there none-the-less to change his life and learn healthier coping mechanisms to handle stress/his inner conflicts.

Something else worth noting is that, timeline-wise (as messy as that always is in LV), Benji was dating Derek through all of this. His one year anniversary with Derek was in S1 but his one year sobriety was only in S2. Who knows how that would have complicated things. He wasn’t Out to his parents or anyone but he was dating a (adult) man. So he was simultaneously hating that he was gay and drinking his mind blank but still dating a man. That is a super stressful and conflicting dichotomy that he was dealing with in amongst all this… (“It is still hard for me to be who I am.” 1x05)

THE MOST IMPORTANT INSIGHT FROM BENJI’S DRINKING AND AA:

It is so important to take time and realise what being in AA means about Benji: as a young teen, Benji self-medicated his way through his worsening mental health by drinking to handle stress and internalised homophobia. He didn’t have any proper methods of handling stressful situations. He is now having to unlearn those behaviours and learn new strategies through AA and his sponsor. But he has only been doing that for one year! That is a blip of time in the hourglass.

Now let’s look at the events of S2: Benji has been inundated with stress while still learning how to cope with it without drinking. And he’s had to learn and practise these new coping strategies while:

Being in high school

Holding down an assistant manager job

Watching his significant other being emotionally wrung out by his mother’s treatment of him; dealing with his own rejection and banishment from Isabel

Reliving both his own coming out stress and homophobic aggressions at school directed this time at his significant other

Trying to deal with the shame of being in AA and keeping that a secret from all of his peers at school

Like far out, that is a ton of stress! Anyone would crack under all of that, let alone a young and recovering alcoholic!

So yes, when faced with stressful situations, Benji is not always going to react in the right way or say the right things. He’s still learning how to do that with his sponsor and AA meetings. He might come off as ‘rancid’ in S2, but really he is just a kid who is struggling and trying to do his best.

#LV ask #Love Victor #LV S2 analysis #Benji Campbell

[sunsetinmyvein]

CLOSED (for now)

All right, all right, ALL RIGHT. PEOPLE. For the first time, I am taking requestsssss (so, let’s see if this goes well or not lol). @aphxsia‘s taking requests, @dot-writes is taking requests, everyone is taking them and I just felt a tad left out, y’know? I’ve chopped up a bunch of other prompt lists to throw together this lovely prompt list below at the suggestion of Dot. My general idea is: send me a character, and one prompt from the “dialogue” side as well as one prompt from the “context” side (or more if you have more that fit together in an idea, I suppose. But I need one of each to get a VibeTM) and Iiiiii’ll do my best to make it work within a character x OFC/Reader sorta thing. Oh, and send me an album era for added flair, if you’d like. Deets below the cut.

 I’ll write for:

-          The boys of Fall Out Boy

-          The boys of Panic! At the Disco (we’re talkin’ Ryan and Jon days)

-          The boys of The 1975

-          And, if you’re incredibly ambitious, also willing to give Alex Gaskarth of All Time Low a whirl

 Rules:

-          Can’t do smut (sorry, it’s just awkward and clunky for me to write and nobody wants that)

-          Won’t write characters under 18

-          Won’t write slash

-          I just kind of reserve the right to be like “I dunno what to do with this, sorry” (But I’ve curated this prompt list, so I should be okay lol)

-          I’ll get around to them when I get around to them - I’ll be writing them around The Radio Station being posted as well, so you won’t be starved for content.

  Dialogue:

·         “You’re not in love with them, are you?”

·         “I could literally strangle you right now and no one would stop me.”

·         “It’s not as bad as it looks.” - “You’re not very convincing.”

·         “You need to relax.” - “Relaxing is for the weak.”

·         “How long has it been since you’ve slept?” - “A week?”

·         “How the fuck are you still alive?” - “It’s a special talent of mine.”

·         “Can you please just listen to me for once?”

·         “I think this is a bad idea.” - “You think all of my plans are bad ideas.”

·         “You should really listen to me more.”

·         “Do I even want to know?”

·         “You have the cutest smile I’ve ever seen.”

·         “Just take care of yourself, okay?”

·         “Please don’t use cheesy pickup lines on me.”

·         “I like it when you’re romantic.”

·         “I’m going to be pissed if we get murdered.”

·         “How could I resist?”

·         “I’m sorry, I don’t speak dumbass.” - “Real mature.”

·         “You’re worth every scratch.”

·         “I could name about 110 things I love about you.” - “That’s oddly specific.”

·         “We can raise hell together.”

·         “Partners?”

·         “Don’t get too cocky now.”

·         “Fuck me.” - “Really?” - “No.”

·         “I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic.”

·         “Do you trust me?” - “Should I?”

·         “Do you have any idea on how frustrating you can really be?”

·         “I really, really want to kiss you right now.”

·         “I think we got off on the wrong foot.” - “You think so?”

·         “I don’t think that cancels out.” - “It does in my book.”

·         “You’re being dramatic.” - “I’m not being shit!”

·         “Take a break.” - “I don’t need it.” - “You look like a fucking zombie.”

·         “Then we’ll leave. Just you and me.”

·         “Do you need help? - “No… yes.”

·         “I hate you.” - “I love you too.”

·         “You have something in your hair, umm… Do you want me to get it out?”

·         “It’s nice that your voice was the first thing I heard today.”

·         “No, like…. It’s just, I can’t believe you’re actually wearing my clothes.”

·         “Would it be too cliche if we matched clothes a little?”

·         “My friends get so annoyed by how much I talk about how sometimes.”

·         “Wanna, like– I mean, if you’re not busy… We could get lunch? Or even just coffee if you don’t have a lot of time?”

·         “Quit smiling at me, I can’t stop messing up my sentences when you look at me like that.”

·         “What are you smiling about?”

·         “What’s in it for me?”

·         “Could you say that again?” “Were you not listening?” “No I was, I just like hearing your voice.”

·         “You’re an idiot.” “But you love me.”

·         “Is that my shirt?” “You mean our shirt?”

·         “You come here often?” “Well considering I work here, yes.”

·         “Are you blushing?”

·         “Your hair is really soft.”

·         “You’re really warm.”

·         “You owe me.” “Fine, whatever you like.”

·         “I love you.” “Tell me that when you’re sober.” 

·         “I wasn’t lying when I told you that I loved you.”

·         “It’s pouring rain why are you here?”

·         “Is that blood?” “Yes, but that doesn’t matter right now, what does matter is-” “You are literally bleeding.”

·         “Cheers, I’ll drink to that.” “You drink to everything.” “Cheers!”

·         “Why is there a deer in the room?” 

·         “Is that vodka? At 7 in the morning?”

·         “Wake me up when it’s over.” 

·         “Why is arson always your first answer?”

·         “Are you flirting with me?”

·         “Are they really ‘just a friend’?”

·         “Is there a reason you never say my first name?”

·         “Shh… listen… that’s the sound of me falling in love with you.”

·         “I have to tell you something really important and if I don’t tell you now, I won’t get the chance.”

·         “Whatever he’s saying, he’s lying!”

·         “I play a mean air guitar, if that’s what you’re asking.”

·         “I thought you knew?”

·         “We can, y’know, go together? If that’s a thing you’d like.”

 Context:

·         I remembered it was Valentine’s Day late on my way from work and the only place still open was McDonald’s, is bringing you a cheeseburger acceptable?

·         I accidentally punched you in the face when I was too overexcited about something

·         The library’s pretty empty save for you and me and, OH that couple making out loudly in the shelves somewhere

·         You’re overdue on this book and I want it so I’m tracking you the fuck down

·         You give me a different fake name every time you come into this coffee shop and I just want to know your real name because you’re cute but here I am scrawling “batman” onto your stupid cappuccino

·         We live in the same block of flats but haven’t ever talked and Sunday morning we were both doing the walk of shame and had to stand in the lift together

·         “My shower’s broken but I’ve got a date tonight could I possibly use your shower please?” “Oh sure (neighbour that I’ve been crushing on for the past six months) of course you can use my shower to get ready for your date (fuck fuck fuck)”

·         You’ve got a date tonight and you asked for advice on what to wear but I’m so in love with you and damn you look good in the outfit I picked out for you

·         It’s my high school reunion and I need a hot date so I can rub it in the faces of the people who hated me

·         There’s a person who won’t stop bugging me will you pretend to be my partner so that they’ll fuck off?

·         I wanted to go on the Ferris wheel but there has to be two people to a cart come on random person let’s go – oh, wait, are we stuck at the top? Fuck

·         It started to snow and I’m the only one of our friends who would go outside with you – I soon found out why none of the others would go out in the snow with you when you shoved a handful of snow down my back and declared snow war

·         It’s nowhere near Christmas it’s literally still November would you calm down about Christmas wait no why are you getting the tree out – no, stop, please stop

·         You were waving at your friend behind me but I got confused and waved back at you and now I’m dying of embarrassment but you think it’s cute

·         I’m a waiter at this wedding and you’re a drunk guest who will not stop hitting on me please I’m trying to work no I can’t dance with you omg let me find you some water

·         You’re pretending to be your friend’s lover for the sake of the friend’s family. But, I’m their sibling. And I know you’re not dating.

·         You had an assigned seat next to them at a wedding for a mutual friend.

·         You accidentally sprayed them with yogurt when you opened the lid the wrong way.

·         They mistook your bowling ball for theirs in the shared ball return.

·         They caught you when you slipped on ice and nearly fell over.

·         Accidentally stepping on their heel in a crowded room.

·         Tripping while getting into your seat in the theatre and spilling your popcorn on them.

·         Accidentally opening a door on their face.

·         They cover the small amount of change you are short on for a purchase.

·         They see your ice cream drop to the ground and buy you a new one.

·         You walk out of a dressing room asking if the outfit suits you, but it’s not your friend waiting outside the room like you thought.

·         Sharing an umbrella at a bus stop as it rains.

·         You help catch their dog when the leash slips from their hand.

·         Texting the incorrect number but continuing the conversation.

·         Getting paired up on an amusement park that requires even numbered riders.

·         A friend of a friend needs a place to crash because they got evicted

·         You’re so sunburnt you can’t even more, do you need help?

·         I admit that sleeping on the beach wasn’t the smartest idea but someone buried me in sand please help me

·         I met you last night when you were drunkenly patting my dog in my backyard at 3am and when I asked you what the hell you were doing, you slurred something about dogs being great and then you threw up on my feet. Fifteen minutes later you were passed out on my couch so that’s why you’re here right now. What the fuck is your name.

·         I always see you eat breakfast on the train and you always offer me some

·         I’m waiting for the train and the only open seat is on a bench next to you. Okay, sure, I’ll sit down next to the very cute person and I JUST SPILLED MY DRINK ALL OVER YOU I’M SO SORRY.

·         I don’t know you, but I fall asleep on the train every ride home and you always wake me up because we have the same stop, but we’ve never actually talked. Then one day you’re the one falling asleep and I got so excited for my comeuppance I made us get off at the wrong stop.

·         My cat steals underwear and I come home to find you chasing my cat to get your underwear back.

·         We’re always making stupid bets like ‘bet you can’t drink this whole bottle of BBQ sauce’ but then you did and now you’re sick and I feel really bad. Let me look after you

·         Did you actually just blue shell me on our date you fucker

·         I beat you at Mario Kart and now I’ve been banished to the couch for the night

·         I’m calling to cancel our date because I’m actually in the ER right now, sorry. I mean… sure? I guess you can come down here but- okay…

·         I asked a staff member and they said you’ve been coming to the pound every day to play with the dog I’m taking home today and that’s why you’re getting weirdly emotional

·         It’s my turn to open up the café today and you were sleeping under one of the tables when I came in, and I don’t know what to say so I’m just awkwardly sweeping around you

·         I’m drunk on public transport and you’re high and we both keep looking at each other knowingly.

·         You’re mowing your lawn at 5am and that is completely unacceptable and I’m going over to your house to yell at you about how unacceptable that is.

·         It’s like 3am and my roommate locked me out of the house and I forgot my keys and I’m really drunk and please take pity on me and let me crash at your place for the night o’neighbour of mine

·         We decided it would be fun to go camping and now it’s raining and we can’t figure out how to set up the tent.

·         I know it’s probably poor taste to ask you out during your relative’s funeral but I don’t know if I’ll ever see you again, so…

·         It’s raining. I’m walking home in this downpour and have no umbrella. I’ve taken shelter on a random porch in the hopes that the rain will let up, but the door behind me had just opened

·         You’ve got a big, lush pool and I overheard you say you were going out of town, so I snuck over to use it but you came home early

·         You’re having a BBQ in your backyard and it smelled really good so I crashed the party

·         Not trying to make a scene here, but you took the last pool floatie and I want it

·         This is a big beach, why do you have to build that sandcastle right next to me?

·         You tried to grab the exact Halloween costume I want and it’s the last one and I want it.

·         I pranked the wrong person on accident, I’m so sorry I thought this was my friend’s car.

·         We just wanted to do one of these awful, fake ghost hunting shows but now shit is happening and we don’t know what to do.

·         I tried to take a shortcut and ended up stuck in this damn fence and you just happen to pass by and after poking fun at me for a million years you finally help me.

·         Two strangers locked inside the store at 3am together.

·         I accidentally broke your nose in a moshpit, sorry.

·         You’re the bastard who keeps parking in my spot so I retaliated by keying your car and you caught me

·         This is a long plane ride. You’re stuck next to me, and apparently afraid of flying.

#Posting this now because I am impatient #even though I probably won't have time to work on any until Sunday #hoping that I don't get overloaded with prompts and then stare at them blankly with no ideas #if I do #sorry in advance #definitely not mildly nervous about taking requests for the first time #dunno what you're talking about #sunsetinmyvein prompts #sunsetinmyvein requests #sunsetinmyvein

[pinkysfaultorbrainsfault]

animaniacs - s5e8: the brain’s apprentice

this is the last patb short in animaniacs! as far as i know, anyway. if i’ve missed any with plans please let me know! there probably won’t be an update tomorrow because we’re going out with my boyfriend’s parents (in a covid conscious manner of course) but on friday (or thursday if i get time) i’ll get started on the spinoff. for now, enjoy mice. (:

episode summary: brain builds a machine that creates tiny robots programmed to take over the world. pinky helps. there is no dialogue in this short, because it’s supposed to be a parody of a short by some small inconsequential studio somewhere.

the rundown:

we open at acme labs!

there it is. it’s a very pretty building. i wonder if these shots were computer generated or, like, physically drawn. it’s kind of hard to tell, but they are impressively 3D looking.

“how to take over the world by building your own neato army. by alexander haig.”

hmmm. i am not american enough to get this joke, unfortunately, but i’m sure the animators had a good laugh putting it in there, so that’s all that matters!

as pinky watches a video about buying fish, brain walks past with a bunch of.... weirdly shaped paperclips. the box is taller than he is, at this point, and he was a baby exactly one season ago, so maybe pinky should be helping out? but needs must, i guess. he’s got fish to buy.

brain deposits whatever those are in a bigger bucket of whatever those are, and climbs down. i have decided that these are not, in fact, paperclips. i don’t know what they are, or how brain found them, and i especially do not know what they were doing in the paperclip box.

hmmm.

brain grabs his notebook and takes a look at his blueprints for whatever this big old machine is for.

i love how he just. ripped up a bin to make it. where will the employees of acme labs toss out their old crystal pepsi* cans now?

*i don’t know what people drank in 1995.

brain wiggles some buttons. pinky, meanwhile, gets bored of watching programs about why he should buy a fish, and goes to see what brain is doing.

he peep.

and out comes a lil robot. awww.

pinky is shooketh. he gotta see what’s going on with this!

in the process of doing so, he falls over. poor baby. :C but that’s definitely not important to the plot, or anything.

he wants to go say helo to the robot!

brain is less enthused by that idea, it seems.

because the robot needs activating before they can play with it! honestly, pinky.

huh.

brain tries turning it off and on again. he is not successful.

how problematic.

his solution is to take his notebook and go hide in the kitchen out of shame, i guess.

i don’t know either. never mind. pinky goes back to his fish.

but oh dear!

pinky tries to warn brain. brain gives no fucks. just let him go back to his loathing hole, pinky.

never mind. pinky is here to save the day!

the robot is on now.

it does a sassy little hands on hips thing.

ah.

so they end up doing a whole little dance together!

and it’s really cute.

bowling pin moments

until-- oh dear.

never mind. pinky and his new friend head off to the fridge.

hm.

the robot wiggled all the cheese out of the fridge, so now pinky is fat and satisfied. he likes his new robot friend, who procures cheeses for him.

but oh, fuck.

pinky attempts to stop the onslaught by pressing as many buttons as he can.

it has...probably the opposite of the intended effect.

the plug won’t come out, either.

maybe this lever will help!

i.... guess it did? but not in the way pinky intended. oh dear.

powerless to stop them, pinky watches as the robots wander off to their destiny. (he looks quite happy, there, actually. maybe things are okay after all!)

the first thing they do is steal a tank. (i’m not sure the cannon leads to the cockpit? i don’t know. i’d have to ask my dad.)

bomf.

this guy isn’t very good at his job, apparently.

(meanwhile, pinky attempts to hit the robot infestation with a fly swatter.)

mr The American President has recieved the calling card, apparently. honestly, this is a bit fashy, even by brain’s standards, but i guess after last episode he just got hit with a bout of desperation.

this man is very scared. he doesn’t want his brain poked out by pens.

pinky is also very scared, because the entire lab is just full of the bloody things. he clings to the chair and considers the direction his life is going in.

oh dear.

brain very calmly heads towards the machine in a way that is probably terrifying. i’m put off and i’m just sitting here.

pinky is banished back to the table for his many crimes. he is Grounded. he has been Put In The Corner.

i don’t. actually think i’ll be comfortable making jokes like that for a good few more episodes, actually, lol.

pinky trundles sadly off to watch more Fish TV, while brain rolls his eyes and does the sort of little head shake that my nan would do if my grandad gave us the wrong christmas presents or whatever.

some people may find it difficult to remember the voices of the dead, but my nan mumbling “stupid man” under her breath is eternal. rip nan. also i really, really like the faces in this episode.

is he wearing eyeliner? it looks good on him. maybe that’s what he was doing while he was moping, yknow. put on a bit of lottie london and listen to the black parade. it’s a good way to vent your emotions, i guess.

but oh, what’s this?

something completely unrelated is holding the president hostage!

huh.

conclusion:

obviously, this is something very important that brain needs to know about, so pinky goes off to get him.

does a cute little pouty face and everything.

brain doesn’t want to know, it seems. he tells pinky, presumably, to shush. he has a machine to deactivate!

bonk.

so obviously this causes the robots to go a bit haywire.

better sign that contract, mr president!

or not, i suppose.

and the reddit alien is dead. very sad. no more am i the asshole for anyone.

the president is upset. he liked posting judgemental things on r/pics whenever he saw a woman.

meanwhile, pinky is trying very hard to get brain’s attention.

oh dear. brain is so upset that he can’t even laugh at “wolf spritzer”, which is a silly name for anyone to have.

he’s gonna go off and cry. ):

good thing pinky knows what’ll make him feel better!

BONK.

i don’t know why he’s hitting pinky, quite frankly. yet again, if brain had listened to him from the beginning, their plan would have been a success. pinky figured out what was wrong with the machine, and activated it, and solved the problem. even as accidental as that was, brain could have like... yknow. taken a moment to assess the situation.

but this is the last episode of animaniacs (that they appear in, anyway) so i guess that proves that he’ll never learn.

brain: 4 ½ pinky: 5 ½ outside influence: 10

i have nothing more to say about this episode, but the guys from the preceding short look like the dover boys, which is funny, i guess.

#patb #a! #pinky and the brain #animaniacs #aaaaand that's it for a! thanks for coming yall (: #spinoff time now! #exciting

[roughlytwentytwofrogs]

so I'm thinkin again, so it's a personal rant and I'm on phone so no read more. I think you can press j? on pc to skip to the end of the post?

abuse tw by the way, I'm going to talk about my father and how my childhood with him shaped me (and my sister? i guess, i can't do without talking about her)

so tldr, my father was an asshole. My half sister from his first marriage left the house when she was 17 because he hit her in the face one too many times and her professor decided to send her to the cops after she came at school with a black eye (that's only pretty recently that i learned that, during most of my teenage years - i was 11 when she left, she was the one who had decided to leave with her weed smoking bf) A little story bc that's a pretty important part in what I'm thinking about.

Last year, after almost 9 years without contact, I called her and we spoke for a few hours about well, p much everything, and at some point, we were talking about our father's misogyny and how it affected us.

Like, we were both not very traditionally feminine. I was always a tomboy, and she was into the alt fashions. And she said something about how growing up with my father and his constant mockery of feminine things (trucs de gonzesse, pédés, etc) made her hate her own feminity. And that's something that hit me hard, i guess? If i look in my wardrobe, the clothes dating from before the whole process that started with getting kicked out in november 2018, then my sister contacting me to tell me my father got thrown out too and the divorce and that phonecall and all of the things that went with it and after, they're all the more masculine ones, and after that it's sarouels and more shapeless neutral and feminine clothing.

I think for a while i was (and probably still am, since I'm only thinking about this rn) in a process of if it has anything to do with my father, it must go. But I'm not happy with it, these past two years have coincidentally been the ones I've struggled a lot with my own image and yeah, that makes sense, i don't wear clothes i enjoy wearing, I just throw on stuff in the morning and that's it. I've even tried to buy a sundress last summer i guess as some kind of what if? but the tag is still on it.

And the more i think about it, the more i feel like, even if i can explain it partly because of that experience i have of "everything too feminine is shameful", it doesn't make it any less of a positive thing in my life? Because it doesn't feel shameful anymore, it just feels like something that i don't necessarily enjoy or find attractive.

And on top of the whole being laid back and romantic and liking cute animals and cooking that don't fit the social expectations of being masculine, i guess that's also part of why i refused and got spooked of calling myself butch and identifying with the word.

And yeah, i feel the getting strong to protect part too. Since I'm a teen I've been pushing iron at my rowing club, i stepped a lot between my father and my siblings, i even took a few hits defending my mother. Last time i saw him, i got a nice black eye for defending my mother when he started getting aggressive about her contacting her parents (he's cut off our contact with them at around the same time as my half sister left, in 2012).

It just slowly adds up whenever i start thinking about different aspects of the butch identity. I just need to learn that I don't have to banish him and refuse the consequences he had on my life and my point of view on myself and the world. He's my father, his influence shaped a good part of my personality.

I'm soft and laid back because he was angry and aggressive. I don't like conflict and shouting because that's what my life was with him. I'm understanding because he was paranoid. I enjoy being around people because he was violently anti social. I want freedom and to make my own rules and cannot stand jealousy because he was controlling and sabotaging all of our friendships. I can't count how many friends I've lost because he started shit with their parents, he's kept us away from my mother's side of the family for 9 years. I'm an extreme people pleaser because he was very hard to please and selfish.

And on the less positive side, i have a really hard time accepting gifts because it was used against me all my childhood to make me do things for them that i didn't want to. I'm unlearning that pretty well, but i had a hard time being wrong or being in a position of knowing less about something than the person I'm talking with. Nowadays i feel like I've made huge progress with it, and listening to people and learning from them is something i actually enjoy a lot. My reaction to anger and frustration is isolation and silence because i have an actual fear of becoming violent like my father. I know it's irrational, I know I'm not about to break someone's nose because they ate the last fries or smtg. I guess I've just heard so many excuses about how he lost control and how it's natural and shit like that that deep down it convinced me of something and I'm afraid of myself? i don't know that sounds even more irrational when i put it into words.

I built myself against him instead of with him like a normal kid would. I shouldn't be afraid of that, that's who i am, that's who i grew up to be and that's the qualities i learned to value in life because they were rare in my family. That doesn't make it less important and valid than a child who learned to love by watching their parents loving each other and them.

I guess a lot of my self worth problems stem from that. I don't feel like myself, and I've been coping with that by calling that feeling stupid and running head first towards anything that I've seen other people thrive with trying to search for my own happy place when in the end, it's been right there all along, i just have to look back with acceptance instead of anger.

#surprisingly coincides with the two years i tried so hard to be bisexual too #sinan in 2018 and nathan in 2019 #i don't know man #our identity being tied to misogyny just made my brain go brrr suddenly #i think I'm putting words on how I've been feeling for a while now #I've been talking about changing my wardrobe and stuff like that #i guess deep down i knew I'm not happy with how shapeless i look rn in very baggy pants and girly tees #my comfort clothes are a superman shirt a mens sportsshort and an old very much oversized and worn out will coyote hoodie #makes sense now #abuse tw #long post #and i guess it's just the formulation on that post that hit hard #that's something I've already evoqued with my friends jake and andrew multiple times #hey look i talk too much again lmfao

[rideboldlyride]

Calloused

Summary: Iroh hadn’t been able to watch. The pure horror of a man - a father- burning their child for a slight infraction... He couldn’t do anything to stop it, but he will stop his brother from destroying entirely the kind boy he knew Zuko could be.

(I’ll post this in the morning to AO3, but I really wanted to get this out today, since it’s been something I wanted to write since I began Perfect.)

[EDIT: here’s the link!]

Iroh was not surprised, but deeply saddened when the news reached him at his nephew's bedside. It arrived inconspicuously, in the hand of an unassuming and unmarked guard. The only thing to identify the origin of the letter was the Fire Lord’s insignia on the seal.

“By Order Of Fire Lord Ozai,

Former Crown Prince Zuko is hereby stripped of both rank and home, and forthwith banished from the lands, commonwealth and colonies held by the Fire Nation, for the crime of dishonoring the Fire Lord, and bringing shame upon the Throne of the Fire Nation. Immediately, upon receipt of notice, the Crown Prince is to move with all reasonable haste from the Nation and its Territories, lest he wish to face the Lord’s wrath.

By the Decree of the Fire Lord,

Long May He Rule in Agni’s Light.”

His brother’s firm, bold character at the bottom of the notice left no doubt of his perspective on the matter. Disgusted, Iroh hefted his solid frame from the chair beside his resting nephew’s sick bed. The healers had already come and gone -- there was no certainty that the young man was going to regain sight in his injured eye, and the ointment used to coat and soothe the burn was only to dull the pain. Due to the extent and severity of the burn, there was a great chance of infection. The only thing that kept the young man from screaming out in pain was the tranquilizing tea he was coerced to swallow down between his feverish episodes. 

If the Fire Lord was following the tradition associated with banishment, Zuko was to be moved immediately. The Dragon was certain what that would spell for the young man, and was determined to prevent any more loss of those he loved. 

Turning to the menservants hovering near the young man’s bedside, he located the one in charge. 

“Whatever may happen while I am gone,” the retired general leveled a steely gaze at him, his amber eyes leaving no room for failure, “no one is to move the Prince. If anyone, guards or otherwise, arrives to take him away, send for me at one.”

The young man, hardly older than the 13 year old in the bed, nodded sagely. Face softening, the General nodded slightly, then made his way out the door. As he entered the hallway, he allowed the storminess that had brewed inside him from the moment he had heard of the Agni Kai, to finally show upon his face. Ozai might be Fire Lord, but to Iroh, he was still his obnoxious little brother. Once upon a time, he might have felt a certain pity for him, but the years had not been kind to his disposition. While this once may have been a factor to consider on the part of the older brother, the public humiliation and mutilation of his own son had put what once may have been pity far from his mind. Instead, Iroh felt the rage of a thousand suns build in his belly. The Dragon of the West had made up his mind, and he knew he had the strength behind his words to fulfill what task lay before him. 

Ozai deserved no son of this caliber.

To Iroh, as he had given up his right as Crown Prince when he chased his lost son to the Spirit World, Ozai had lost his right as father to Zuko the moment he laid a scorching hand on his son’s face.

With that determination and fire in his eye, no guard stepped forward to stop him as he flung open the doors to his younger brother’s private study.

“What is the meaning of this?” the Dragon’s words hissed, the notice of Zuko’s banishment raised in a barely restrained fist.

“The boy dishonored my general and I.” Without turning away from the fireplace, the Fire Lord - his brother, Iroh reminded himself - responded coldly. He knew Iroh would come in with fire on his heels, and it gave the old general pause. “He must learn the path of honor through pain and shame.”

The Fire Lord turned in his chair by the raging fire. Did he have to keep the fireplace going even in the middle of summer?? Iroh kept the thoughts to himself, exasperated at his brother’s jockey for relevance and drama. Instead, he watched as the dismissal danced across the younger man’s face. Fury continued to eat at the Dragon’s belly.

“Was his public humiliation not enough for you, Ozai?!”

A scowl pulled at his lips, and amber eyes turned back to the burning fire. 

“No.” 

The response was simple and quiet. Yet, within it Iroh could hear the disgust, the disdain of his own son. All the things that had wronged his brother, real or imagined, they were laid solidly at a thirteen year old boy’s feet. And with a simple act - a scrawl of ink on parchment - he could send his son away with those guilts upon his shoulders.

“You send him away,” Iroh’s voice was quiet, but his words held steel, “with nothing to fight for. You wound him, physically shaming him, in such a way that he will never escape, to wander lands he is not welcome to. You leave him with nothing!”

Incredulousness licked like flames at the older man’s heels. “You don’t even give him a purpose! What do you wish for, Ozai? For him to die?”

Slowly, the Fire Lord stood from his chair before the fire, his slim silhouette cut an intimidating figure before the flames. They rose precariously higher before falling again. It followed a steady pattern. Iroh watched as his shoulders rose and fell in a deep sigh, smoke curling from his lips, pulled into a sneer. 

“I wish for him to learn the pain that his existence has brought upon me.”

Aghast, Iroh took a step back from the firebender, wishing he had never heard his brother speak so callously of his own son. For a moment, he attempted to envision a situation where his anger could have ever led him to speak so heartlessly of his dear Lu Ten, and his imagination fails him. He swallows hard before continuing.

“You wish upon him a fate worse than the death you could have easily wrought. And you give him no goal for him to reach for - no chance for his own reinstatement to a place of honor before you.” Even as he speaks, the horror of the Agni Kai still sits behind his eyes, the young boy’s screams in his ears. “Give him something, Ozai. Something to attain.”

A dark laugh reached his ears, and stately, Ozai turned to his brother, disgust evident across his features. 

“This is why you would have failed as a Fire Lord, Iroh. You cling on to hope for those who do not deserve it. The boy was born weak, and he will die the same. Weak. You want to give him hope that he will live to be more than he is capable of. 

“‘It is the duty, nay, the privilege of the mighty to cull the weak. To pull the thorns and thistles from the lilies, so they may grow, devoid of the leeches of the unculled.’ Or have you forgotten your duty, Iroh?” 

Amber eyes narrowed. “You may quote from our father as much as you wish. But I recall my younger brother, scared and barely able to stand, cowering before our grandfather, much as your son did before you.”

Eyes like fiery coals rounded on him, wide. “And I fought back. I learned strength! That child has learned nothing! He cowers and cringes and scrapes, and never once does he stand!”

“But he did. He stood for what he thought was right. And for that, you marred him. He has stood before you in the past. Stood between you and his sister, even if she is unaware.” Iroh’s voice dropped dangerously. “How many hits has he taken since Ursa left, Ozai? He cowers before a volcano he cannot hope to stop. And now you tell him he is adrift amongst the lava flow.”

“What would you have me do?!” Ozai stood close, almost nose to nose with his older brother, and washes his expression of disgust with the smoke from his lips as he hissed.

“Give him a quest. Give him hope for his return. A way for him to redeem himself in your eyes. For that is the only person he begs that from.”

“Fine.” The Fire Lord turned away, moving back to the fire.

Iroh nods despite the sensation of dread suddenly curled like a snake in his belly. It was not like Ozai to give in without more of a fight. 

“Tell me, Iroh, respected General and Dragon of the West; what is the greatest threat to the Fire Nation?”

Without thought, Iroh speaks, the words of his father and his father’s father ingrained into his subconscious. 

“The Avatar.”

A malicious glint catches at the younger man’s eye, casting a smirk over his shoulder to his brother.

“No.” It escapes Iroh’s chest like a death rattle. “It’s an impossible mission.”

The glint hardens like steel. “If my son wishes to prove himself to me, he will find it possible.”

***

Not a full day beyond the fateful Agni Kai, Iroh stood at the cusp of the bow of a small, decommissioned Fire Navy frigate, his back turned away from his nation as the coast disappeared behind him. The salty breeze whipped away the tears that attempted to fall. He had left Caldera City, Ember Island, the Fire Nation itself, before, and he was free to return whenever he so desired. The young man he now accompanied, however, no longer held the same option. His tears fell only for the lost youth in the belly of the ship. 

Even as the last tendrils of steam from the Caldera City mountain disappeared into the horizon, he heard the commotion rise from below. The general made his way down below deck, and the doors to the young man’s room were left ajar. As he entered, sad eyes fell upon the young man who struggled against the ship’s only medic - an old field officer unprepared for this sort of wanton injury - trying to restrain him. Iroh rushed to his side, pulling the young man into his arms. 

At first, the boy struggled against him, pushing him away. His freshly shaved head glistened from the exertion, combined with the after effects from his severe burn. The struggles became sluggish, and slowly the young boy sagged into the embrace. Iroh didn’t notice when the medic took his leave, a small jar left on the nightstand beside some fresh bandages, or that he made certain to close the door completely as he exited.

A soothing hand circled the young man’s upper back, as the cries of pain mixed with his tears of shame. Through the hiccuping sobs, he managed to get out a few words.

“Why- whe-where am I? W-What happened?”

“That is for another day, Prince Zuko.” 

#Zuko #Atla Zuko #atla is my new hell #atla #one shot #iroh #Iroh Atla #Atla iroh #Ozai #atla ozai #Right after the Agni Kai #Angst #tw: child abuse implied #Calloused

[arnoldjaime13]

Blog Tour- BETRAYER by @ANConway With An Excerpt & #Giveaway! @RockstarBkTours

 I am thrilled to be hosting a spot on the BETRAYER by Nicole Conway Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar Book Tours. Check out my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!

 About The Book:

Title: BETRAYER (The Dragonrider Heritage #2)

Author: Nicole Conway

Pub. Date: February 23, 2020

Publisher: Broadfeather Books

Formats: Paperback, eBook, Audiobook

Pages: 352

Find it: Goodreads, Amazon, Kindle, B&N, TBD, Bookshop.org

Read for FREE with a Kindle Unlimited Membership!

The darkest secrets of Murdoc’s violent past may be their last hope.

As pressure mounts to find the Tibran witch, Devana, Thatcher and his companions struggle to regroup after discovering Phillip’s bitter betrayal. Forced into hiding while they await a new plan of attack from Prince Judan's network of spies, tensions rise and threaten to tear their company apart. Murdoc knows every second they linger risks another attack from the vicious Ulfrangar Assassins or Phillip, but Reigh is determined to stay and await new instructions.

With two of his closest friends now locked in a battle of wills, Thatcher is caught in the middle—until a surprise assault by the Ulfrangar drags him into the darkest depths of their brutal order. Faced with a life-and-death race against time, Murdoc is the only one who might be able to save him now. But for Murdoc, taking up an assassin’s blade again to fight the same order that trained him will also mean facing the worst demons of his past.

Can Murdoc finally rise above his bloody past and save his only friend? Or does destiny have a new path in store for an assassin-turned-hero?

 About Book 1:

Title: HUNTER (The Dragonrider Heritage #1)

Author: Nicole Conway

Pub. Date: November 24, 2020

Publisher: Broadfeather Books

Formats: Paperback, eBook, Audiobook

Pages: 352

Find it: Goodreads, Amazon, Kindle, Audible, B&N, TBD, Bookshop.org

Read for FREE with a Kindle Unlimited Membership!

One boy must earn the trust of a blind dragon and hunt down an elusive sorceress before she can rekindle the war that nearly destroyed their world.

As the Kingdom of Maldobar emerges victorious from the brutal invasion of the Tibran Empire, much of the land is left in utter ruin. With his home destroyed and family gone, 16-year-old Thatcher Renley has no one left to turn to. And when he’s mistaken for a Tibran soldier and banished to a wartime prison camp, Thatcher knows his only hope for freedom lies in appealing to Queen Jenna directly.

But getting out of the prison camp might be the least of his worries— especially after he stumbles across a feral dragon locked in an iron cell.

As far as dragons go, Fornax is a lost cause. The battle that killed his rider also left him blind and too aggressive for any knight to control. But Thatcher can’t deny feeling drawn to the beast. Does he have what it takes to calm Fornax and join the proud ranks of Maldobar’s dragonriders? Only time will tell. And with a bloodthirsty Tibran witch threatening to rekindle the chaos of war, everyone’s time may be running out.

 Excerpt

PART ONE

Murdoc

Chapter One

Thatcher Renley was, by far, the biggest idiot I had ever met in my entire life—and that’s saying something, because I’d also met Prince Reigh Farrow. He was in a close second. But at least he had enough common sense to know that this so-called hunt Queen Jenna and Jaevid Broadfeather had sent us on was essentially a glorified suicide mission. We were charging straight into a fight with a largely unknown Tibran witch, armed with only fragments of information about her abilities and location. And if that weren’t enough, there were only three competent fighters among our group—dragons included.

Granted, Reigh could manage decently against common enemies. He’d apparently been trained in combat by the Gray Elves, and their scouts had recently improved in their fighting ability. They must’ve stumbled across someone with an actual brain who was now training their scouts and warriors. Knowing that, Reigh had probably held his own fairly well in Luntharda. But we were a long way from the wild jungle, and sooner or later, that temper of his was going to cost him.

Phoebe was … well. Hmm. Perplexing, I guess. She fluttered around with her mad storm of red curls flying, bubbling like an excited child about the projects she was working on, and radiating a relentless optimism that sort of made me sick to my stomach after a while. Not that she annoyed me, really. It was just strange to be around someone that persistently happy all the time. Happiness wasn’t something I’d had much experience with.

Which brings me back to the biggest moron of them all who, unfortunately, was now both my primary concern and the bane of my existence. Thatcher was astronomically stupid. Honestly, it was staggering he’d survived as long as he had without someone following him around, smacking his hand whenever he was about to try something dangerous. He’d volunteered for this mission without having any combat training of any kind. He was a farrier’s son, for crying out loud, and was essentially the human personification of a dandelion puff. Short, scrawny, wide-eyed, and baby-faced—he didn’t have a prayer of surviving this mess unless someone watched over him constantly.

How, by all the Gods and Fates, I had wound up being that person was still beyond my understanding.

Ugh. Fine, fine. I’d done it by choice, I suppose. Sort of, anyway. I mean, sure, I could have left him there in that alleyway in Thornbend to die along with most of the other peasants and villagers. Maybe that would’ve been kinder in the long run—especially if we were all soaring toward a gruesome death right now. Still, in that moment, with all the world swallowed up in flames and that pitiful kid on the ground at my feet, I’d looked into his eyes as he spoke to me, offering me a different path I’d craved for so long. And I’d realized … no one had ever talked to me that way before. Like I was someone and not something. No one had ever treated me that way. No one had ever looked at me and regarded me like … a person.

So, I’d made a rash and irrevocable decision. A mistake, probably. But then again, I’d been swallowing back hopes of escaping that life—the life of an Ulfrangar assassin—for as long as I could remember. That night in Thornbend had been my first real opportunity. The only catch was, of course, keeping the baby-faced kid who kept calling me “friend” alive, too.

Thatcher treated everyone that way, though. It’s like there was no room in his mind for the possibility that a person really could be evil. Shocking, considering the vacant way he stared at me sometimes—like you could pass a twig through his ear and it would come out the other side and not hit anything in between.

At first, I’d just assumed he was incredibly sheltered or naïve. Maybe he was. But after our experience with Phoebe, finding out that she had been a Tibran, I’d expected him to reject her entirely. Anyone else probably would have. Whether out of shame or fear, she’d kept that information from everyone.

But Thatcher had insisted on helping her. He’d forgiven her without a second thought. He was stupid, yes. But he was also far kinder than anyone could ever deserve.

Least of all me.

He still called me his friend like it was nothing. He laughed and chatted with me as though he genuinely enjoyed my company and wanted me around. He kept chasing after me whenever I tried to put some safe distance between us. Didn’t he get it? Couldn’t he sense it at all? I was not a good person. I never had been. I’d accepted a long time ago that no matter where I went or what I did, the pack—the Ulfrangar—would always own me. They’d carved their mark upon my soul from the very beginning and nothing could erase it. Deep down, I would always be one of them.

Even now, sitting behind Reigh astride his lithe green dragon, the weight of their presence crushed down over my body from every side. They were everywhere and nowhere. They moved in shadow, lived in anonymity, and thrived on the constant stream of the world’s darkest secrets. There was no place I could hide, nowhere I could go that they wouldn’t be able to reach.

The more I thought about it, the harder it was to justify why I’d let Jaevid set me free—even if I knew the answer already. Because of Thatcher, the idiot. No one seemed to know what he’d done to provoke Devana and her new monstrous minion, Phillip. Maybe nothing. And honestly, I didn’t care. It didn’t matter. They wouldn’t put a hand on him if I had anything to say about it. He’d called me a friend—someone who was like a brother to him—and that was enough. It was more than anyone else had ever done for me my entire life.

We cruised, riding the strong winds coming in from the sea along the eastern coastline. The tower of Eastwatch faded behind us, and far below, small villages and towns dotted the hills. Most were a safe distance from the steep cliffs that dropped into the toiling dark ocean—places where wild dragons liked to nest. But the farther we flew to the north, the more the cliffs gave way to rocky beaches. Fishing towns were built right up against the banks amidst the clusters of odd, hexagonal basalt columns and massive trunks of washed-up driftwood from Luntharda’s giant trees.

Dayrise stood just a few miles inland, stretching all the way to the sea where a large port was packed tight with big merchant ships. The vessels cruised in from the open sea, white sails puffed and banners fluttering high as flocks of seagulls chased them in. Most were probably owned by merchants happy to be sailing their trade routes again now that the Tibran war was over.

Not that I’d ever been to Dayrise myself, honestly. The Ulfrangar network spanned far beyond Maldobar’s borders, but the territory I’d been assigned to work was back down on the southern tip of the kingdom. I’d never had any reason to journey this far north.

Too bad it didn’t make me feel the least bit more secure.

A glimmer caught my eye far in the distance off our right side—the tell-tale flash of sunlight over glossy scales. A dragon. He was far off, maybe three miles on our tail, and had been since we left Eastwatch. From so far away, I couldn’t tell much else. Maybe it was just a security escort from the dragonriders keeping an eye on us from afar. Maybe it was a curious wild drake that’d caught wind of the dragoness in our group and was interested in her. I didn’t know.

And when it came to being followed, I hated not knowing.

The sight of those faraway scale flashes and the faint shape of great dark wings flapping put a pang of dread like a cold iron spike in my gut. I looked away and set my teeth against the rush of adrenaline that made my skin tingle and my heart pound like mad. I’d have to mention it to the others eventually. But not yet. I needed more information, first. To be sure this wasn’t some arrangement Jaevid had put in place because, well, he now knew what I was. He had every reason to be concerned and to want to keep a close eye on things.

Or on me, rather.

Reigh started our descent as we neared the city’s outer limits. I had no idea where we were supposed to go or who Jaevid Broadfeather had waiting for us. Hopefully not another noble with an estate we might accidentally burn down. Well, sort of accidentally, anyway. And technically we hadn’t been the one doing the burning, but I digress. Whatever. Burned is burned, I suppose.

Unlike Eastwatch, the city of Dayrise wasn’t one visited by dragonriders on military orders on a regular basis. There was no towering spire meant to house soldiers and mounts looming over the rooftops, and no high city walls topped with battlements. Not that we got any strange looks as our dragons circled outside the city’s outer limits. In fact, there were more than a dozen sizable inns crowded around the main roads leading in and out of the city’s tightly packed streets. Many of them were flanked by massive barns two or three stories tall intended to house dragons.

Reigh chose one closer to the port on the western side of the city and guided his green dragoness into a smooth landing. She cupped her wings and stretched out her hind legs, landing on the grass as elegantly as a swan on a pond.

Thatcher’s much larger orange drake landed next to us, shaking his black-horned head and puffing unhappy snorts through his nose. The dragon curled his long, striped tail around his legs and bristled, small ears turned back as those milky green eyes darted around.

I frowned. Thatcher trusted that beast wholeheartedly. But I’d seen it drag him across the horizon like caught prey once already. Thatcher had been lucky to walk away from that ordeal—luckier than anyone else seemed to want to acknowledge.

“Let’s get Vexi and Fornax settled here and find our contact,” Reigh called back to me as he straightened in the saddle. He pulled off his helmet, nearly slapping me in the face with the end of his long, sweaty braid in the process.

“This is an old city,” I muttered as I studied the road ahead that led into the narrow cobblestone streets. “Places like this tend to be dangerous after dark, and there’s only a few hours of daylight left. We should go quickly.”

He unbuckled and dismounted first, then stood sorting through his saddlebags while I climbed down. “I agree. Which is why I’m leaving you in charge of this.” Reigh took out a small drawstring purse, poured a few gold coins into his palm then tied it shut again and tossed it in my direction. “Our contact is supposed to meet us at the sign for the Crosswall Docks. They’re probably already waiting on us. Think you can find it? Taverns with dragon accommodations are harder to come by here, and we need to keep a low profile—meaning, we stay away from the ones farther into the city. So, I’ll settle up for the dragons here and meet you there.”

The purse jangled when I caught it, as though there were still quite a few coins tucked away inside. “You expect that to take a while? We need to stay together.” It wouldn’t take that long, of course. I knew that as well as he did—meaning he had another motive for wanting a few minutes alone.

“I’ve got some letters to send back to Luntharda. Shouldn’t take me more than an hour,” he replied, bowing his head to hide his face as he crammed the handful of coins into his pocket. Reigh’s emotions ran so close to the surface, it was ridiculously easy to read him even with his face angled away. Judging by the scarlet color his ears were turning, these must have been personal letters. Letters to a girl, most likely. Love letters. Ugh.

He would’ve made a terrible assassin.

“And who is it that I’m supposedly looking for at the docks?” I pocketed the bag of coins and ran a hand through my hair, trying in vain to get it out of my eyes. Months away from my former life had allowed it to grow out longer than it’d ever been before. I’d have to fix that soon.

Reigh’s expression scrunched as though he were trying to think—emphasis on trying. Complex thought didn’t seem to be one of his stronger qualities. “He didn’t say specifically. Just that we’re looking for another Broadfeather. His brother, probably. I can’t recall his first name, but I met him briefly after the war ended.”

“If we go on ahead, how do you intend to find us later?” I arched an eyebrow.

He shrugged. “Looking for someone named Broadfeather at Crosswall Docks? That’s plenty to go on. I’m sure someone can point me in the right direction.”

Fair point. A last name like that was one people generally remembered, after all.

“Did you see all the ships?” a sing-song voice chimed suddenly. Phoebe practically fluttered over to stand beside me, her red curls bobbing around her and her big, blue eyes shimmering with excitement. “Aren’t they beautiful? Can we go see them up close?”

Reigh’s entire demeanor soured as he stood straighter. “Didn’t see enough of them while you were sailing around with the Tibrans, conquering other kingdoms and slaughtering their people?” He growled every word through his teeth as he leered down at her.

She shrank back some, almost like she might duck behind me if he made a move toward her. “O-Oh, um, well, no. I mean, yes, I did have to sail with them. But Lord Argonox didn’t allow me to leave my cell or go up onto the deck during—” She stopped short and went quiet. Her brows drew together as she flicked speedy, nervous glances around everyone. “I-I’m sorry,” she stammered at last, as though she couldn’t think of anything else to say.

Reigh didn’t respond. Instead, he glowered down at her with his mouth mashed into a tight frown. His light amber eyes flashed with a mixture of wrath and what I could only guess was withheld terror.

I’d seen that look before from my Ulfrangar handler whenever I’d challenged or defied him, as though for the briefest instant he wasn’t sure if he should hold his ground or flee. And while I could sympathize to a degree—after all, Phoebe had apparently been the one in charge of all the magical experimentation for the Tibran Empire—she was about as threatening as a freshly-cut daisy on her own. She probably weighed seventy pounds to his one hundred and fifty or so.

Awkward silence hung in the air until Thatcher drifted over to join us, sporting his usual, blissfully vacant grin. “Are we staying here for the night?” he asked cheerily. “I’ve never stayed at an inn before. I thought Jaevid had arranged for us to stay with someone in the city?”

With a tight sigh, Reigh spun on a heel and gestured for Thatcher to follow him. “He did, but we’ve got to get the dragons settled and I’m betting yours will need extra assistance. So, come with me. Murdoc, you can take her and find our host. We’ll catch up.”

     Phoebe didn’t say a word for a long time as she followed along close beside me. Lugging her bag of gear over my shoulder, I tried not to look her way more than necessary. According to Thatcher, I gave the impression that I was glaring whenever I stared at someone for too long. No need to make it worse.

Besides, one glance was all it took. The distant fogginess in her eyes as she stared down at the sidewalk put an uncomfortable tightness in my chest. I should say something, right? That was the normal thing to do. Wasn’t it? Gods and Fates, how was I supposed to know what normal was?

“You should stop apologizing,” I blurted before I could change my mind. My tone came out much harsher than I intended, as usual. Curse it all. I should have kept my mouth shut. Silence was always safer.

Phoebe tripped over an uneven stone. She staggered, and I snapped my free hand out. I seized her arm to hold her steady.

She let out a scream. Not a surprised little yelp—a real, primal, utterly terrified scream. Phoebe went completely stiff in my grasp, blinking up at me with her entire body trembling.

What? Why would she look at me like that—like I was about to do something terrible to her? I’d never raised a hand to her. Was it because she knew I was an Ulfrangar now?

Before I could ask or even say a word, her entire expression suddenly went blank again. Her body relaxed and she glanced around, seeming confused for a moment. “O-Oh! Murdoc! I-I guess you startled me.” She blinked up at me, face flushing almost as red as her hair. The forced, twitchy smile on her lips looked almost painful. “I’m so sor—um, I mean, thank you.”

I slowly let her go. “I … I didn’t mean stop apologizing in general. I meant stop apologizing to Reigh.”

Phoebe swallowed hard. Shifting her weight from one foot to the other, she fidgeted with the embroidered hem of her long tunic as her mouth scrunched up. “I, um, well, I mean he is right to hate me. I did—”

“I know what you did,” I interrupted as I began walking again. “Most everyone does now, right? But Queen Jenna forgave you. The Court of Crowns absolved you. You’ve apologized to everyone over and over, including Reigh. You’ve made changes to your life to become something better now. No one can ask any more of you than that.”

“But he still hates me, doesn’t he? He’d probably kill me if you and Thatcher weren’t here.” She trotted to catch up and fall in step next to me like before.

“There’s nothing you can do about that. You can’t change your past or erase what you’ve done. And because of that, some people will always hate you. Even if you do everything right from now on, it still won’t matter to them. They will never be able to see you as anything more than what you were,” I tried to explain without biting every bitter word through my teeth. “But that doesn’t mean you should go on groveling for forgiveness. You’ve done your part. Forgiving you is Reigh’s problem now. So let it go.”

She didn’t respond right away. For a few more blocks, she followed along in total silence while we wound our way through the city’s narrow streets toward the sea. Then I felt the pressure of her wide, blue-eyed gaze on me again. It hit me like the glare of the sun, making my skin tingle. “Aren’t you afraid that people won’t forgive you for being an Ulfrangar?”

I paused at a corner before a broad, open square. In the center, a white stone fountain sprayed ribbons of water around the bust of a man in battle armor. He stood tall and proud, his eyes seemingly focused right on me, with a helmet under his arm while his other hand rested on the pommel of the sword belted at his hip. A dragonrider, most likely. But not one I recognized.

“That’s different. I don’t expect them to forgive me, so it would be pointless to ask for it,” I confessed as I held the statue’s frozen gaze. “The people who know what I’ve done could never truly forgive me. Like King Jace. And the ones who don’t understand only offer their forgiveness because they don’t know any better.” I flicked a look down at her. “Like Thatcher.”

Her mouth scrunched into a dissatisfied little frown. “What about Lord Jaevid, then? He knows, doesn’t he?”

I couldn’t keep the irony from my tone. “No. Not really. He’s gotten a small taste of it, so now he’s suspicious. But he doesn’t understand the extent of what I am.”

“Well, I forgive you, Murdoc,” Phoebe announced, a rebellious crease in her brow. “So which am I, then? Someone who understands? Or someone who doesn’t?”

I had to think about that.

The Tibran Empire had paid hefty sums to hire out Ulfrangar assassins and spies throughout the war. Phoebe had probably seen others like me before, if only in passing. She’d certainly seen all of the evil and unbridled cruelty that could come from a man like Argonox. In fact, she had probably witnessed and experienced more of it than even she could remember. But did she really comprehend what I was? What I’d done to survive up to this point?

“Could you forgive Argonox?” I countered. “Or any of the soldiers who were in charge of keeping you obedient? What about the ones who put those marks on your skin?”

Her face slowly drained of color. “B-But you didn’t do tha—”

“I’m no different from them,” I cut her off quickly. “You strip away the emblems and the banners, the flags and the creeds, and you’re left with the same thing. At its roots, evil is evil, and it doesn’t matter what you dress it up in. That’s why deep down, I’ll always be what the Ulfrangar made me. I’ll carry their darkness in me until the day I die.”

“You really think that?” Her voice was hardly more than a whisper. “You truly believe you’re evil like Lord Argonox was?”

I set my jaw and looked away. No matter how I turned the words in my head, none of them sounded right. I couldn’t bring myself to answer. It wouldn’t matter anyway. Clearly, she couldn’t understand. We were nothing alike. Phoebe hadn’t chosen to become a Tibran. She hadn’t chosen to do all of the things Argonox had forced her to do. But there had been moments in my life, a few vile moments steeped in malice and blood, when I had. I could have rebelled then. I could have let the Ulfrangar kill me for my defiance and ended it there. But instead … I’d accepted that fate. Wanted it. Thrived on it.

Sometimes, I’d even enjoyed it.

That was the part of myself King Jace would never trust—the part Reigh, Thatcher, Jaevid, and Phoebe should have been disgusted by. But they didn’t know.

And I had no idea how to tell them.

  About Nicole:

Nicole is an award-winning, #1 international bestselling author from North Alabama. With a passion for relatable, authentic characters and exciting, fast-paced plots, Nicole is best known for her series, THE DRAGONRIDER CHRONICLES. Other published works include THE DRAGONRIDER LEGACY SERIES, SPIRITS OF CHAOS SERIES, MAD MAGIC SAGA, and THE DRAGONRIDER HERITAGE SERIES (Coming Winter 2020).

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Tour Schedule:

Week One:

2/22/2021

Jaime's World

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2/23/2021

Two Chicks on Books

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2/24/2021

Westveil Publishing

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2/25/2021

BookHounds YA

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2/26/2021

Lady Hawkeye

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Week Two:

3/1/2021

A Dream Within A Dream

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3/2/2021

Declarations of a Fangirl

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3/3/2021

Jazzy Book Reviews

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3/4/2021

Books A-Brewin'

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3/5/2021

Lifestyle of Me

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3/5/2021

Hurn Publications

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[valeriethepussycats]

I’m Only Human

Chapter 8

Pairing- Loki x Reader, Thor x Reader( Best friends)

Warning- cursing

Your thoughts in italics.

Volstagg eats ravenously from a platter of food. Sif stands nearby, ill at ease. Fandral watches Volstagg incredulously as the large warrior stuffs himself. Finally Fandral can stand it no more.

“Our dearest friend banished, Loki on the throne, Asgard on the brink of war, yet you manage to consume four wild boar, six pheasant, a side of beef, and two casks of ale. Shame on you! Don't you care?!” Fandral scolded . As he moves to throw the platter in the fire, but Volstagg pulls his weapon, stopping him.

“Do not mistake my appetite for apathy.” Volstagg warned.

“Stop it, both of you! We all know what we have to do, we're just too damned afraid to do it!” Sif Chimed in.

“We must go. We must find Thor.” Hogun declare as he  starts to pull the delicate healing stones from the fire, carefully putting them into a pouch at his side.

“It's treason, Hogun.” Fandral protested.

“To hell with treason, it's suicide.” Volstagg proclaimed. “Now, shh! Heimdall may be watching! It's said he can hear--“

 “Yes, yes, we know!” Fandral said with a sigh of irritation.

“Thor would do the same for us.”  Sif told them.

An Einherjar Guard enters. They tense. “Heimdall demands your presence.”  Einherjar Guard stated.

Volstagg quickly drains his flagon of ale.

“We're doomed.”  Volstagg exclaimed.

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

Dawn breaks over the quiet town of Puente Antiguo. Thor awakens, looks down to see Jane still sleeping, nuzzled against him. She opens her eyes, looks up at him and smiles. He stands, offers his hand, helps her to her feet. Thor helps Jane down off a ladder. A groggy, hungover Erik emerges from Jane's trailer. He sees Thor with Jane.  Erik eyes the two of them together.

“I need some coffee.” Erik insisted.

The three head inside Smith Motors. Y/n in the kitchen leaning against the cabinet drinking coffee.

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

From the library rooftop Across the shield Agents Garrett and Cale watch the scene, pointing a  small audio surveillance device towards the lab.

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

Darcy, Y/n, and Erik sit at a card table, drinking coffee. Thor holds a couple plates as Jane makes eggs on a hotplate. She scoops them out onto the plates. Thor takes them over to the table, sets them down before Erik, Y/n ,and Darcy.

“Fast learning.” Y/n smiled.

“Thanks.” Darcy grinned.

“You're very welcome.” Thor replied.

Jane joins them at the card table with a couple more plates. She and Thor sit with the others and start to eat their breakfast, looking like a little family.

“I know we’re having a beautiful moment and I hate to ruin but... I’m a shield agent.” Y/n Announced Unexpectedly.

Band-Aid affect.

Jane and Darcy looks shock and some what betrayed while Erik continues eating his food.

“You work for shield.” Jane choked on her coffee.

“Ever since I was 12.” Y/n replied.

“Did you planned this whole thing to have all of my research taken?” Jane seethed.

“Why would I help someone take the research that I was doing for 8 weeks?” Y/n asked as she takes a sip of her coffee.

Jane looks over at Erik for support

“Erik... are you going to say something.” Jane voiced.

“I knew Y/n was an shield agent she is Dr. Munroe and she wasn’t a part of the shield raid how could she be she was with Thor.” Erik answered Calmly.

“Your a Doctor?” Darcy Asked.

“Ya I got my PhD when I was 17....I didn’t know about the raid until Erik told me I didn’t know shield was coming at all.” Y/n told Jane and Darcy Truthfully.

“Jane don’t be mad at Y/n if it wasn’t for her I will still be there.” Thor pointed out.

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

On a roof across the street from Smith Motors, Agents Garrett  and Cale continue their surveillance, bored out of their  wits. Agent Cale watches the group through the lab window with binoculars. Agent Garrett listens to his comm-link, turns to Cale.

“They want an update.”  Agent Garrett Announced.

“Tell them he's eating eggs.” Agent Cale answered.

“Scrambled or fried?” Agent Garrett questioned.

Cale glares at him.

“Target is eating eggs, sir. We'll keep you posted.” Agent Garrett informed hq through his mic. “Do you think what they say about Agent Munroe is true that she can read minds and Control them?” Agent Garrett Asked Agent Cale.

“I don’t know but I heard she can destroy a whole build with two Lightning bolts.” Agent Cale replied.

“Wicked.” Agent Garrett proclaimed.

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

As the group finishes breakfast, Y/n is laughing at the two shield agents. Thor looks at the mug in his hand, gets an idea.

“May I have this?” Thor asked Darcy.

“Sure.” Darcy replied.

“Thank you. Excuse me a moment.” Thor leaves.

In front of her diner, Isabela prepares to open for the day. (Through the window of Isabela's, we see chairs still atop tables.) Isabela sweeps the front porch. She looks up to see Thor approaching. She eyes him suspiciously. He offers her a mug.

“To replace the one I broke. Please forgive my behavior.” Thor apologized.

She takes it, looks at it curiously, then smiles at him.

“Okay. Thank you.” Isabel  replied.

“If I may, I'd like to come back for more of your "coffee." Thor wondered.

“Any time.” Isabel said sincerely.

He nods and walks away. She stares after him, smiling, and shrugs. “She could do worse.”

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

Sif and the Warriors Three enter warily to find the intimidating Heimdall standing before the Observatory's controls. He glares at them accusingly.

“Good Heimdall, less us explain--“ Volstagg started

“You would defy the commands of Loki our King, break every oath you have taken as warriors, and commit treason to bring Thor back?” Heimdall questioned.

The four exchange nervous glances.

“Yes, but--“ Sif started.

“Good.” Heimdall commented.

The group looks puzzled. What did he just say?

“So you'll help us?” Volstagg Asked.

“I am bound by honor to our King. I cannot open the Bifrost to you.”  With that, Heimdall leaves them alone in the Observatory. The others exchange puzzled looks.

“Complicated fellow, isn't he?”  Fandral remarked.

“Now what do we do?” Volstagg asked.

Sif glances at the control panel, notices something.

“Look!” Sif called out.

The others turn to see Heimdall’s sword stuck into the control panel. They exchange a grin. They have an ally. Sif hits the controls, and the Bifrost apparatus fires up.

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

 Coulson races in as a shield Techie calls up satellite footage of the Bifrost storm on a monitor.

“What the hell was that?” Coulson questioned.

“I don't know, sir. We got massive energy readings out of nowhere, then they just disappeared. Fifteen miles due northwest.” The Techie informed Coulson.

“Let's go take a look.” Coulson decided.

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

Amidst the fury of the Bifrost storm, the Warriors Three and  Sif drop to the ground in the New Mexico desert. They clamber to their feet as the Bifrost quickly recedes, the hole in the sky closing up behind it. The Bifrost runes  cover the desert sand around them.

 “He must have landed nearby. It's time to put our tracking skills to work. Spread out.” Volstagg commanded.

Check the sand for indentations of his boot prints. “The winds would have blown them away by now. We should look for signs of a campfire.” Fandral commented.

“Or we could just start there.” Sif points behind them to the town of Puente Antiguo in thedistance -- the only visible sign of civilization -- and to  Hogun, who has already started walking towards it. Volstagg and Fandral trade looks, their egos bruised.

“It's worth a look, I suppose.” Fandral somewhat agreed.

The party tromps towards the town.

Townsfolk stare in wonder at the Warriors Three and Sif, as they stroll down the street in all their Asgardian splendor.A boy Hits a baseball, which rolls under a parked car. He runs to retrieve it, but can't reach it. Suddenly, the side of the car rises into the air. The boy looks over, his mouth dropping open at what he sees. Volstagg easily holds the car up with one hand. Volstagg picks up the boy's ball, then drops the car. He hands the ball back to the boy, tousling his hair.

“There you go, lad!” Volstagg grinned. The boy just stares, standing frozen. The Asgardians head off. “Is it just me, or does Earth look a little different to you?”

“It has been a thousand years...” Sif trailed off.

“Things change so fast here. You leave for a millennium, and it's like the whole neighborhood's gone.” Volstagg said sniffing, smells something.

“Perhaps we should split up.”

Agents Cale and Garrett spot Sif, Fandral, and Hogun walking down the street.

“Is there a Renaissance Faire in town?” Agents Garrett Asked Agents Cale.

“Call it in.” Agents Cale told the man.

But before they can, Volstagg rises up behind them, smashes their heads together. They're out.

“Never cared for spies.” Volstagg disclosed.

He starts to go, then sees their bag of fast food on the ground. Intrigued, he pulls out a cheeseburger and takes a bite. He likes what he tastes. “Exquisite.”

○ ○ ��� ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

Loki stands with Gungnir, surveying his kingdom, when an Einherjar Guard quickly approaches him, out of breath. “My liege, the Warriors Three and the Lady Sif have gone missing.” The Einherjar Guard informed Loki.

Loki reacts but hides it well. He knows who’s responsible. This one a little short.

Part 9

#loki x black!reader #loki x reader #thor x reader #marvel x reader

[tswiftdaily]

TAYLOR SWIFT: 30 THINGS I LEARNED BEFORE TURNING 30

According to my birth certificate, I turn 30 this year. It's weird because part of me still feels 18 and part of me feels 283, but the actual age I currently am is 29. I've heard people say that your thirties are "the most fun!" So I'll definitely keep you posted on my findings on that when I know. But until then, I thought I'd share some lessons I've learned before reaching 30, because it's 2019 and sharing is caring.

ONE: I learned to block some of the noise. Social media can be great, but it can also inundate your brain with images of what you aren’t, how you’re failing, or who is in a cooler locale than you at any given moment. One thing I do to lessen this weird insecurity laser beam is to turn off comments. Yes, I keep comments off on my posts. That way, I’m showing my friends and fans updates on my life, but I’m training my brain to not need the validation of someone telling me I look . I’m also blocking out anyone who might feel the need to tell me to “go die in a hole ho” while I’m having my coffee at nine in the morning. I think it’s healthy for your self-esteem to need less internet praise to appease it, especially when three comments down you could unwittingly see someone telling you that you look like a weasel that got hit by a truck and stitched back together by a drunk taxidermist. An actual comment I received once.

TWO: Being sweet to everyone all the time can get you into a lot of trouble. While it may be born from having been raised to be a polite young lady, this can contribute to some of your life’s worst regrets if someone takes advantage of this trait in you. Grow a backbone, trust your gut, and know when to strike back. Be like a snake—only bite if someone steps on you.

THREE: Trying and failing and trying again and failing again is normal. It may not feel normal to me because all of my trials and failures are blown out of proportion and turned into a spectator sport by tabloid takedown culture (you had to give me one moment of bitterness, come on). BUT THAT SAID, it’s good to mess up and learn from it and take risks. It’s especially good to do this in your twenties because we are searching. That’s GOOD. We’ll always be searching but never as intensely as when our brains are still developing at such a rapid pace. No, this is not an excuse to text your ex right now. That’s not what I said. Or do it, whatever, maybe you’ll learn from it. Then you’ll probably forget what you learned and do it again.... But it’s fine; do you, you’re searching. 

FOUR: I learned to stop hating every ounce of fat on my body. I worked hard to retrain my brain that a little extra weight means curves, shinier hair, and more energy. I think a lot of us push the boundaries of dieting, but taking it too far can be really dangerous. There is no quick fix. I work on accepting my body every day.

FIVE: Banish the drama. You only have so much room in your life and so much energy to give to those in it. Be discerning. If someone in your life is hurting you, draining you, or causing you pain in a way that feels unresolvable, blocking their number isn’t cruel. It’s just a simple setting on your phone that will eliminate drama if you so choose to use it.

SIX: I’ve learned that society is constantly sending very loud messages to women that exhibiting the physical signs of aging is the worst thing that can happen to us. These messages tell women that we aren’t allowed to age. It’s an impossible standard to meet, and I’ve been loving how outspoken Jameela Jamil has been on this subject. Reading her words feels like hearing a voice of reason amongst all these loud messages out there telling women we’re supposed to defy gravity, time, and everything natural in order to achieve this bizarre goal of everlasting youth that isn’t even remotely required of men.

SEVEN: My biggest fear. After the Manchester Arena bombing and the Vegas concert shooting, I was completely terrified to go on tour this time because I didn’t know how we were going to keep 3 million fans safe over seven months. There was a tremendous amount of planning, expense, and effort put into keeping my fans safe. My fear of violence has continued into my personal life. I carry QuikClot army grade bandage dressing, which is for gunshot or stab wounds. Websites and tabloids have taken it upon themselves to post every home address I’ve ever had online. You get enough stalkers trying to break into your house and you kind of start prepping for bad things. Every day I try to remind myself of the good in the world, the love I’ve witnessed and the faith I have in humanity. We have to live bravely in order to truly feel alive, and that means not being ruled by our greatest fears.

EIGHT: I learned not to let outside opinions establish the value I place on my own life choices. For too long, the projected opinions of strangers affected how I viewed my relationships. Whether it was the general internet consensus of who would be right for me, or what they thought was “couples goals” based on a picture I posted on Instagram. That stuff isn’t real. For an approval seeker like me, it was an important lesson for me to learn to have my OWN value system of what I actually want.

NINE: I learned how to make some easy cocktails like Pimm’s cups, Aperol spritzes, Old-Fashioneds, and Mojitos because…2016.

TEN: I’ve always cooked a LOT, but I found three recipes I know I’ll be making at dinner parties for life: Ina Garten’s Real Meatballs and Spaghetti (I just use packaged bread crumbs and only ground beef for meat), Nigella Lawson’s Mughlai Chicken, and Jamie Oliver’s Chicken Fajitas with Molé Sauce. Getting a garlic crusher is a whole game changer. I also learned how to immediately calculate Celsius to Fahrenheit in my head. (Which is what I’m pretty sure the internet would call a “weird flex.”)

ELEVEN: Recently I discovered Command tape, and I definitely would have fewer holes in my walls if I’d hung things that way all along. This is not an ad. I just really love Command tape.

TWELVE: Apologizing when you have hurt someone who really matters to you takes nothing away from you. Even if it was unintentional, it’s so easy to just apologize and move on. Try not to say “I’m sorry, but...” and make excuses for yourself. Learn how to make a sincere apology, and you can avoid breaking down the trust in your friendships and relationships.

THIRTEEN: It’s my opinion that in cases of sexual assault, I believe the victim. Coming forward is an agonizing thing to go through. I know because my sexual assault trial was a demoralizing, awful experience. I believe victims because I know firsthand about the shame and stigma that comes with raising your hand and saying “This happened to me.” It’s something no one would choose for themselves. We speak up because we have to, and out of fear that it could happen to someone else if we don’t.

FOURTEEN: When tragedy strikes someone you know in a way you’ve never dealt with before, it’s okay to say that you don’t know what to say. Sometimes just saying you’re so sorry is all someone wants to hear. It’s okay to not have any helpful advice to give them; you don’t have all the answers. However, it’s not okay to disappear from their life in their darkest hour. Your support is all someone needs when they’re at their lowest point. Even if you can’t really help the situation, it’s nice for them to know that you would if you could.

FIFTEEN: Vitamins make me feel so much better! I take L-theanine, which is a natural supplement to help with stress and anxiety. I also take magnesium for muscle health and energy.

SIXTEEN: Before you jump in headfirst, maybe, I don’t know...get to know someone! All that glitters isn’t gold, and first impressions actually aren’t everything. It’s impressive when someone can charm people instantly and own the room, but what I know now to be more valuable about a person is not their charming routine upon meeting them (I call it a “solid first 15”), but the layers of a person you discover in time. Are they honest, self-aware, and slyly funny at the moments you least expect it? Do they show up for you when you need them? Do they still love you after they’ve seen you broken? Or after they’ve walked in on you having a full conversation with your cats as if they’re people? These are things a first impression could never convey. 

SEVENTEEN: After my teen years and early twenties of sleeping in my makeup and occasionally using a Sharpie as eyeliner (DO NOT DO IT), I felt like I needed to start being nicer to my skin. I now moisturize my face every night and put on body lotion after I shower, not just in the winter, but all year round, because, why can’t I be soft during all the seasons?!

EIGHTEEN: Realizing childhood scars and working on rectifying them. For example, never being popular as a kid was always an insecurity for me. Even as an adult, I still have recurring flashbacks of sitting at lunch tables alone or hiding in a bathroom stall, or trying to make a new friend and being laughed at. In my twenties I found myself surrounded by girls who wanted to be my friend. So I shouted it from the rooftops, posted pictures, and celebrated my newfound acceptance into a sisterhood, without realizing that other people might still feel the way I did when I felt so alone. It’s important to address our long-standing issues before we turn into the living embodiment of them.

NINETEEN: Playing mind games is for the chase. In a real relationship or friendship, you’re shooting yourself in the foot if you don’t tell the other person how you feel, and what could be done to fix it. No one is a mind reader. If someone really loves you, they want you to verbalize how you feel. This is real life, not chess.

TWENTY: Learning the difference between lifelong friendships and situationships. Something about “we’re in our young twenties!” hurls people together into groups that can feel like your chosen family. And maybe they will be for the rest of your life. Or maybe they’ll just be your comrades for an important phase, but not forever. It’s sad but sometimes when you grow, you outgrow relationships. You may leave behind friendships along the way, but you’ll always keep the memories.

TWENTY-ONE: Fashion is all about playful experimentation. If you don’t look back at pictures of some of your old looks and cringe, you’re doing it wrong. See: Bleachella.

TWENTY-TWO: How to fight fair with the ones you love. Chances are you’re not trying to hurt the person you love and they aren’t trying to hurt you. If you can wind the tension of an argument down to a conversation about where the other person is coming from, there’s a greater chance you can remove the shame of losing a fight for one of you and the ego boost of the one who “won” the fight. I know a couple who, in the thick of a fight, say “Hey, same team.” Find a way to defuse the anger that can spiral out of control and make you lose sight of the good things you two have built. They don’t give out awards for winning the most fights in your relationship. They just give out divorce papers.

TWENTY-THREE: I learned that I have friends and fans in my life who don’t care if I’m #canceled. They were there in the worst times and they’re here now. The fans and their care for me, my well-being, and my music were the ones who pulled me through. The most emotional part of the Reputation Stadium Tour for me was knowing I was looking out at the faces of the people who helped me get back up. I’ll never forget the ones who stuck around.

TWENTY-FOUR: I’ve had to learn how to handle serious illness in my family. Both of my parents have had cancer, and my mom is now fighting her battle with it again. It’s taught me that there are real problems and then there’s everything else. My mom’s cancer is a real problem. I used to be so anxious about daily ups and downs. I give all of my worry, stress, and prayers to real problems now.

TWENTY-FIVE: I remember people asking me, “What are you gonna write about if you ever get happy?” There’s a common misconception that artists have to be miserable in order to make good art, that art and suffering go hand in hand. I’m really grateful to have learned this isn’t true. Finding happiness and inspiration at the same time has been really cool.

TWENTY-SIX: I make countdowns for things I’m excited about. When I’ve gone through dark, low times, I’ve always found a tiny bit of relief and hope in getting a countdown app (they’re free) and adding things I’m looking forward to. Even if they’re not big holidays or anything, it’s good to look toward the future. Sometimes we can get overwhelmed in the now, and it’s good to get some perspective that life will always go on, to better things.

TWENTY-SEVEN: I learned that disarming someone’s petty bullying can be as simple as learning to laugh. In my experience, I’ve come to see that bullies want to be feared and taken seriously. A few years ago, someone started an online hate campaign by calling me a snake on the internet. The fact that so many people jumped on board with it led me to feeling lower than I’ve ever felt in my life, but I can’t tell you how hard I had to keep from laughing every time my 63-foot inflatable cobra named Karyn appeared onstage in front of 60,000 screaming fans. It’s the Stadium Tour equivalent of responding to a troll’s hateful Instagram comment with “lol.” It would be nice if we could get an apology from people who bully us, but maybe all I’ll ever get is the satisfaction of knowing I could survive it, and thrive in spite of it.

TWENTY-EIGHT: I’m finding my voice in terms of politics. I took a lot of time educating myself on the political system and the branches of government that are signing off on bills that affect our day-to-day life. I saw so many issues that put our most vulnerable citizens at risk, and felt like I had to speak up to try and help make a change. Only as someone approaching 30 did I feel informed enough to speak about it to my 114 million followers. Invoking racism and provoking fear through thinly veiled messaging is not what I want from our leaders, and I realized that it actually is my responsibility to use my influence against that disgusting rhetoric. I’m going to do more to help. We have a big race coming up next year.

TWENTY-NINE: I learned that your hair can completely change texture. From birth, I had the curliest hair and now it is STRAIGHT. It’s the straight hair I wished for every day in junior high. But just as I was coming to terms with loving my curls, they’ve left me. Please pray for their safe return.

THIRTY: My mom always tells me that when I was a little kid, she never had to punish me for misbehaving because I would punish myself even worse. I’d lock myself in my room and couldn’t forgive myself, as a five-year-old. I realized that I do the same thing now when I feel I’ve made a mistake, whether it’s self-imposed exile or silencing myself and isolating. I’ve come to a realization that I need to be able to forgive myself for making the wrong choice, trusting the wrong person, or figuratively falling on my face in front of everyone. Step into the daylight and let it go.

ELLE

#taylor swift #elle #article

[abcreid]

Sober (6)

Spencer Reid x Reader.

It’s been forever since the last time i post part 5. This draft stayed almost 2 years omg! I hope you enjoy.

Previous Part

Masterlist

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“Seriously? I did nothing and why you arrested me? For what caused?” You tried to take off the handcuffs out of your hands. The bald man looked sharply at you. He didn’t blink a second and it made you scared. Your wrists scratched because you tried to take it off. “Hey can you get me first aid kit? Look at my wrist.” You showed it to him but he didn’t seem to care. “I don’t care if I’m going to sit here on this creepy room for days or weeks, just get me something for my wrist.” Your tone were high and that man went out.

You sighed. You feel terrified for being in this room. You know this place is interrogating room. You’ve seen it on google. Yup, google had help you this whole time.

You smiled yourself because what you had been accomplished. You successfully get rid of Dorian Loker, the only your enemy. You know it was wrong at the first, but lately you felt it had to be done in order to get Spencer back to you. You thoughy that you were crazy, you were insane, you mentally sick, but it was worth it. Once Spencer knew all you had to do was for him, you sure he would understand.

The door was open and the old man showed up. He didn’t say a single word and sat before you.

“Do i know you?” You paused. “Oh i remembered. You are David Rossi SSA. Yes, indeed we met several months ago.” He didn’t speak a single word, yet remain silent. “Where’s the band aid? I told the other guy to get me whatever to my sore wrist.” You showed him but he didn’t responded. “Seriously? What kind of feds are you?”

He reached his pocket and took the bandage out. He gave it to your left palm. “What? Am I supposed to put this bandage to my wrist whilst my hands are handcuffed? Seriously am i a magician?” You shook in disbelief and that Rossi guy still remain silent. “Please. Help me.” You finally said the help word. Yeah and magically 5 seconds after you said it, he helped your wrist.

“Thanks.” Right after, he left the room.

5 minutes later, 2 women showed up. “Hi I’m SSA Jennifer Jareau and she’s SSA Kate Callahan.” You smiled them and they returned it.

“So, why you guys arrested me?” You asked them as polite as you can be because you didn’t want them to be suspicious.

“Why JJ? Can you tell me why?” Kate asked JJ and she shrugged. “Why you just tell me why, YN.” She started to be annoying to you.

“All i know my door were busted and you guys hancuffed me while I was sleeping. It was a massive ambushed you know.”

JJ open up the case file and showed you pictures of yourself stood over Dorian’s apartment door. “Well we got this from surveillance camera. Do you recognize this person? Well she had been visited one of FBI agent Dorian Loker for the past month. Like 3 times a week, 12 times a month. Can you look closely to identify this person?”

Busted. It was you in the pictures. You took the pictures and look closely so they are not suspicious. “I have no idea.” You put it back to the table.

“Really, YN? You didn’t know who’s she?” Kate a little bit furious at you because you still playing victim. Then she pulled out the last picture from case file. “It was you. YN YLN.” Clear picture of your face emblazoned. You couldn’t lie to them anymore. “So a month ago you came to Loker’s apartment brought a box, I believed it was a cake, or tart. Then you walked few steps and she called you back and you went in to her place. Then few days later you came again, bla bla bla, until you and her went out at Wednesday, right after a week you visited her. Where you two went? Mall? Yeah, we checked Loker’s credit card activity. Like, went to gelato ice cream, book shop, fancy restaurant, and we couldn’t find any activities from your credit card since 2 months ago. Why? JJ tell me why.”

JJ continued. “It’s because you quit your job. Oh believe me we checked your background. It such a shame you quit from American Bank, it was a steady job, girl. It was quite odd that you were actived on social media, and suddenly you were just like banished. You shutdown all your good friends, like Renata and Josh, they’re a lovely friend to you.” JJ paused. “YN, on August 15, where were you?”

You breathe irregularly. “I don’t recall.” That was your answer copying video from Youtube, ‘what to answer question from interrogating room’.

“Wrong answer. This is not a court, YN. You can answer us with i don’t know, it’s none of your business, i forgot. Don’t watch things like that on Youtube.” Kate quipped you. Shit, they already know everything. Even Youtube videos you’ve been watched. “So the last time you went out with her was August 15, a week ago. Where did you go with her?”

Your sweat began to poured all over your body. You weren’t supposed to be worried. All you had to do is act normal. “To mall.” You answered as short as you can be. You just want to meet Spencer.

“I didn’t see any activity from Loker’s CC.” Kate held the paper and read it carefully.

“It because i paid with cash. I paid what we bought with my money. She usually the one who paid. And last week was my moment to returned her kindness.”

JJ nodded. “Okay, after you went to mall, where did you guys went?”

“I went home, and she went to her home as well.”

“Do you remember what time you went home?” Kate added.

“Afternoon, around 3 a.m. i guess.” You lied to them. You went home around 8 p.m.. Did some business.

“Nope. You went home at 8:05 p.m. so 5 hours lenght where did you went, YLN?” Kate was furious at you. She couldn’t hold the anger. “Where did you hide her body? Because it’s been a week since Dorian Loker is missing and she last seen with you.” She hit the table hard and it made you startled.

JJ calmed her down. “We knew you did something to her, YN. You thought we didn’t notice you’ve been hanging out with Garcia this whole time, you and Reid, we knew. We knew everything, YN. She’s Reid’s girlfriend. He worried about her so much. We search her house, we couldn’t located her cellphone. You better tell us or you could hurt Spencer so bad. You didn’t want it huh?”

“Okay,” you said it without thinking further. “I’ll tell everything but i want to talk to Spencer. Only Spencer. I don’t want any other creepy agent stared at me like shit.”

JJ and Kate went out without answering your demand.

Tags: @scatchia @pandedios-carli @queenofthehobos @princessjellyfishbitch @i-m-never-the-one @cynbx @spence-imagines

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid imagine #dr spencer reid fanfic #dr spencer reid x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x reader #abcreidseriesimagine #abcreidimagine

[multi-fandom-imagines8]

Short Lived Happiness

Request: Hi, can i request a Grey Worm OC post please? It can be any plot you want, it just sucks that I haven't seen any Grey Worm pairings on here. Thank you! Requested by @njadaka-apologist

Warnings: Death, angst, slight GoT 8x03 spoilers.

Word Count: 1709.

You and Daenerys were twins and the last surviving women of house Targaryen. After Viserys’ death, you decided to rule the seven kingdoms together after you take back what’s rightfully yours. What you didn’t know is how long the journey to Westeros was going to take. You first went from Pentos were you were raised to Vaes Dothrak with Khal Drogo and the khalasar. After his wound was infected and he was hanging between life and death, Daenerys made a deal with a maegi to save his life and in doing so she lost her unborn child. Unfortunately, after she fell ill, the khalasar left with a new khal and only a few loyal dothraki warriors stayed by your side. Daenerys had no choice but to kill khal Drogo, for he was not a living man anymore. He was alive yes, but his mind and body weren’t. She burnt the maegi that lied to her and lied the dragon eggs next to Drogo’s dead body. She entered the fiery circle and you joined her. After the fire went out, you came out with three baby dragons. One for you and two for Daenerys.

You were out of food and water but kept walking until you arrived at the city of Qarth. The people who pretended to be your friends turned out to be enemies, but it was a lesson for the both of you. You needed an army to get to Westeros and so you sailed to Astapor, where you freed the unsullied and the wanted to serve you. Daenerys asked them to choose a commander who who will lead them. That’s when you first met Grey Worm. He introduced himself and both you and Daenerys were a bit upset by the names given to them. You told them to choose the names they desire, that would make them proud and Grey Worm kept his name.

After that, you headed to Yunkai. Daenerys told the masters to surrender and live, but they refused. Leaving you with no choice but to fight. They had hired the second sons who are known to be great warriors. When you tried to talk them into joining your forces, one of the captains was rude and made insulting comments, but you let him speak in hope of getting them to your side. Later that night, one of them that goes by the name Daario Naharis managed to sneak into your tent. He was sent to kill you and Daenerys.

“Why haven’t you killed me yet?” You asked.

“Because I want to fight for you” he wasn’t lying.

“Why should I trust you?”.

“Because I only fight when someone wants to fight me or for beauty and you are beautiful” he threw the heads of the two captains that were with him earlier on the floor.

“Swear to me”.

“The second sons are yours and so is Daario Naharis. My sword is yours, my life is yours, my heart is yours”.

Daario kept flirting with you every time he saw you until you finally accepted him. That was your first relationship, you could say you love him, but weren’t in love with him.

Ser Jorah, Grey Worm, the second sons and the unsullied went to fight and told the masters slaves army that you were there to set them free, so they surrendered and with that Yunkai was free.

One more city to free and then you’ll finally sail home you said to yourselves. Little did you know, that the time in you’ll spend in Meereen is going to be long and troublesome. You freed the slaves but shortly after, the dragons began to feed on innocents and so you locked them beneath the pyramid. You discovered the truth about Jorah and banished him.

You had something important to say, so you gathered the people you trusted. Daenerys, Missandei, Grey Worm and Daario Naharis.

“You want see I, my queen?” Grey Worm entered the room.

“I told you many times not to call me that. To my friends I’m Y/n”.

“As wish you, my qu- y/n”.

“I see your common tongue has improved, but you still need more lessons and practice”.

Soon after, the rest entered the room.

“I have gathered you all here, because you’re my friends and family and I wanted you present when I tell Dany that I do not want to be queen”.

“What?” She was shocked to hear you say that.

“I don’t want the throne, I never have. To be honest, I did not think one day it will be our time to rule. I always thought Viserys was going to but after he died you decided that we should rule together and I did not want to disappoint you. I’m sorry that it took me so long to tell you this” you admitted.

“I’m sorry I pressured you into this. I thought you wanted to. I guess I’ll have to take the throne back by myself”.

“No. I’ll be with you every step of the way. We’ll take back what’s ours, but I want to see you on the iron throne. I’ll still be your advisor, I promise” you gave her your word and she accepted.

Shortly after you freed the slaves in Meereen, a new group of people who go by the sons of the harpy started murdering innocent people.

Jorah returned with a gift for you. He brought Tyrion Lannister who turned out to be useful to your cause, so Daenerys made him hand of the queen after a while.

On the day of celebration, the sons of the harpy ambushed you and tried to kill you, but Grey Worm and Daario were able to fight them off. Unfortunately, Grey Worm was badly injured. The second that the sons of the harpy were killed, you rushed to see how he was doing. He was still unconscious so you waited by his side until he woke up.

As soon as regained consciousness, he wanted to stand up to greet you, but you put a hand on his shoulder to make him stay in bed.

“You’re too weak to stand up. You need to rest”.

“Nyke qringōntan issa vali. Nyke qringōntan issa dāria. Nyke qringōntan ao” (I failed my men. I failed my queen. I failed you).

“You failed no one. Are you ashamed? You were ambushed. Outnumbered. There’s no way you could’ve known”.

“This is not why. Wounded in war, there is no shame for this. I am ashamed because when the knife go in and I fall to the ground, I am afraid” he admitted.

“All men fear death” you reminded him.

“No, not death. I fear I never again see princess Y/n stormborn” he confessed.

For a moment you were speechless but then replied “well, you’re not dying anytime soon and I am not going anywhere. You should rest, now!” You kissed his forehead and left his chambers.

Over the years, you and Grey Worm grew closer to each other but couldn’t act on it, for you were in a relationship with Daario and he never thought he was worthy of you and considered you above him.

But as you finally sailed to Westeros, things changed. You knew he would never confess his feelings, fearing that he might’ve overstepped the boundaries and you were too stubborn.

When you met Jon Snow and he informed you about the white walkers, you decided to help. It was the greatest battle the realm would see. Everyone was afraid, not because they would die, but because they would become something else after death and you were no exception. If there was a time to tell Grey Worm how you felt about him, now was it.

“Can I talk to you?” You interrupted his speech to his men and he nodded.

“There’s something I have to tell you. Something we have both kept for a long time and if I’m going to die tomorrow then I’ll at least get this off my chest. Grey Worm I-“.

“I love you princess” he admitted.

“I love you too” you chuckled before you passionately kissed and spent the night together.

“I have to go now” he was about to get up from the bed.

“Stay! Just a few more minutes” you held his hand, dragging him back to bed.

“Just one. I have to prepare. My men are waiting. The dead won't wait”.

“Alright” you wrapped his hand around you and lied your head on his chest kissing the back of his hand. Both of you got what you’ve been wanting your whole lives; happiness. Even if just for a few seconds. It was worth it.

“Be safe, Y/n!”.

“And you”.

You and Daenerys rode the dragons to fight the night king, who now had Viserion and managed to knock you off Rhaegal. The night was so dark and Daenerys couldn’t see you. When you hit the ground, you were badly injured, but you stood up and fought the night king.

Unfortunately, he was faster than you and stabbed you in the stomach.

The living won the war, but at a high cost. After it ended Grey Worm and Daenerys searched for you, until they found you, next to Rhaegal who was guarding you.

“Princess! Y/n!” Grey Worm rushed to your side and held you in his arms.

“We won” you smiled at him.

“Yes. You are going to be alright” he pressed on the wound, but saw that you’ve already lost too much blood and were still losing some.

“You’re lying. You shouldn’t lie to a dying woman” you chuckled.

“Please! Stay with me!” He cried.

“It’s alright. I am not in pain anymore. Dany, I’m sorry I won’t be there to see you on the iron throne as I promised, forgive me”.

“Shhh! Don’t apologize. You can rest now. I release you from your promise” Daenerys informed you.

“Thank you. I’m glad that you’re here with me. I always wanted to die in the arms of someone I love. I think my wish just came true” you chuckled.

“I love you” his tears were dripping on your face.

“And I you” you held his face in your hand one last time before closing your eyes forever.

#game of thrones #got #grey worm #daenerys targaryen #grey worm x reader #grey worm imagine #grey worm one shot #grey worm x you #torgo nudho #daenerys targaryen x reader #daenerys targaryen x you #daenerys targaryen imagine #daenerys targaryen one shot #daenerys targaryen x sister!reader #game of thrones imagine #got imagine #gif imagine #imagine #gif #one shot #game of thrones one shot #got one shot #game of thrones x reader #got x reader #got 8x03 #jacob anderson #torgo nudho x reader #torgo nudho imagine

[wildtige429]

Chance Encounter

This popped up in my head when I saw a post in @lynea-kureji ‘s blog. I hope you like this gift!

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Freak. Outcast.

The two things she was called ever since she was born. Banished and shunned for her hybrid blood, appearance and the poisons that run through her body like liquid. Her monster side of her family extinct and her Mewman side banished or imprisoned for treason and being monster sympathisers, she lived a solitary life; surviving through pickpocketing, thievery and scavenging.

Shunned from Mewmanity and monster kind, Mint lived the life of a vagabond outcast. Until now......

Rain poured furiously tonight and there was no shelter in the Forest of Certain Death. She could have lived in the caves but she feared there might be wild beasts, black market hunters who would sell her in the black market for her monster parts and so on and even monsters who would shoo her out. Traversing through the rain, her red hood soaked to the brim and not giving her enough comfort and warmth, Mint just prayed for some miracle to happen.

CRASH!

A flash of lightning illuminated what appeared to be a run down barn in front of her. Overwhelmed with joy, she quickly dashed in and out of the pouring rain. The entire structure looked old but stable after years of neglect, but this place will do. She took the whiff of the air to check if there are any inhabitants living here, but to her satisfaction, nothing but the smell of the rain. 

Mint: (Taking off her cloak/sighing) Better leave tomorrow soon after the rain stops.

She hung her wet red cloak and made a fire to warm herself and dry her clothing. She finds a stack of hay and flopped down on it, shutting her eyes and falling asleep.

(Three hours later)

Deep Male Voice: (Annoyed) Will this rain ever stop?

She gasped awake and quickly extinguished the fire, drenching her area in pitch darkness. Putting on her cloak to conceal herself, she crept on silent toes, repeating a mantra to herself that she is silent and stealthy as a black panther on a hunt, and peered out from behind a crate.

Gruff Male Voice: This is the only place we can find here after walking through the rain! I’m freezing here!!

Smooth Male Voice: (Scoldingly) Stop being a baby, Rasticore! 

She emitted a silent gasp, pulling back into hiding view when she sees a silhouette coming up to her hiding place. Trying her best to see through the darkness, she sees a long pointed tail and a reptilian snout lined with sharp teeth.

Mint: (in thought/shocked) Lizards? But how....?

Female Voice: Hey, do you smell something?

Mint cursed to herself slightly, spotting more shapes of more lizards coming into the barn, all in different shapes and sizes. She presumed most of them are male, with one female judging by their scent. And by smell, there’s no way she can fight one-on-one with an entire gang.

Smooth Male Voice: (sniffing) Probably the stank of dead animals in here. Come on, we make fire and by the time the rain stops, we’re out of here!

Mint crawled on all fours, slinking through the shadows of the crates and old farming equipment. She looked up to see an entrance to the second floor. If she can reach there without being seen, she could sneak a chance to escape through the back window and get the heck out of here!

Mint: (whispering/to herself) Get a hold of yourself, Mint! You’re half Lacertian, just like these guys here who could rip me apart at any second if they spot me!

Straightening up, she peered out to watch if any of the lizards are making a move so she can reach the crates that will take her up to the second floor. She spies nothing at the open entrance, but she can see from the corner of her eye that three or four of them trying to start a fire, but failing because of the wet wood. She steadies herself and her breathing and was about to make a dash to the crates when the deep male voice boomed out.

Deep Male Voice: Someone was here!

Mint gulped, inaudibly. To her luck, the ones trying to prepare the fire stopped what they were doing and joined the crowd that were circling around her former campsite. This is her chance to escape right away! She slunk towards the crates just as she listens to the smooth male voice saying to his lackeys.

Smooth Male Voice: Can’t tell from the rain. Search every perimeter of this place and if you see whatever lived here, kill it or capture it right away! We don’t want any spies telling on our cause to the -

SNAP!

Mint gasped in total horror at the sound. She was so busy climbing up the crates, she unspeakably stepped on a twig. She could sense and seethe lizard gang hearing the sound and looking at her frozen form on the crates.

Smooth Male Voice: (Commandingly) GET HIM!!!

A rush of feet was heard and she quickly leapt up to the second floor. Her tail was grabbed but she successfully smacked whoever was holding it to release her and she dashed across the platform. She can hear mishmash of yelling from behind and beneath her. Her foot hit a loose plank and she fell in. Struggling to pull herself out, she yelped when she felt a strong, burly arm wrapped around her neck and pulled her out. Feeling her foot free, she bit down on the captor’s arm real hard until she nearly ripped his skin off as she hears him scream. He let her go and she escaped through the back window.

Random Male Voice: (Yelling) She got out of the window!

Smooth Male Voice: Let me deal with this!

Mint grunted as the rain pelted her face. Her claws digging into the wood, she was able to get to the roof and laid her belly down on the edge to prevent slipping. She hears someone climbing up behind and she quickly crawled forward to the front, hoping she can leapt down and make a run for it.

Big mistake.

Mint: (despairingly) Oh no....

With the lightning flashing a moment ago, she can see the forms and faces of the entire gang of lizards waiting below to catch her so they can bring her into interrogation by their boss. She counts 14 of them and she felt scared.

Mint: (Yelling/to them) STAY BACK!! OR I’LL MAKE YOU REGRET IT!! (She struggles yet successfully gets onto her feet on the wet roof tiles) I AM SOMETHING YOU DON’T WANT TO MESS WITH!!

Smooth Male Voice: (Behind her) Is that so!?

She yelped and spun around, nearly slipping from the action, and stared at the one who has cornered her between the two rocks. And the sight of her assailant made her relax with wonder. Including the one who cornered her when her hood flopped back, revealing her face to him.

This lizard....is the most stunning one she has ever seen. Dark blue-black hair that reaches his back and sticking to his clothing and face was a sight to see, teal scales that almost matches her own, and the most stunning were his eyes. They were an intense gold, matching almost to pure molten gold. And she felt lost in his gaze.

Mint: (Disappointed a bit) Y-you’re not a Lacertian....

Lizard Man: (Felt the same way as her) So are you.....

Mint: Wh.....What are you?

He was about to answer her when a lightning bolt flashed between them, startling her and Mint finds herself screaming in terror and falling backwards. She thought she was going to crash down and hit her head if it weren’t for a pair of strong arms wrap around hers and gripping them. She can hear the gang down below murmuring and yelling and she can see her saviour’s face straining and grimacing from gripping so she wouldn’t slip from his grip. Finding enough strength, her hands reached out and grabbed a fistful of his jacket and she pulled herself up while her saviour did the same, grunting through clenched teeth. By the time her feet touched the roof, they both flopped onto each other, panting from the scenario.

Random Male Voice: Are you okay, boss!?

Random Male Voice #2: Are you hurt!?

Lizard Man: (Yelling) NO! I’M FINE!!! AND SO IS SHE!

Mint got up on her hands and found herself staring into the intense gold eyes of her saviour. They couldn’t stop looking at each with the rain pelting them hard until one of the lackeys shouted.

Random Male Voice #3: HEY! SHE’S A FREAK!!

Random Male Voice #2: YEAH! SHE LOOKS LIKE A MEWMAN!

More of them began to shout that they should kill her or something. Mint knew what was to come, slipping back and looking down with total shame and despair. She’s going to believe her saviour would turn against her sooner or later by now.

Lizard Man: (Shouting/angrily) SHE’S NOT A FREAK!!!

Mint was surprised by this and she heard his group gasping and murmuring to each other with surprise by their leader’s anger on them pestering her appearance.

Lizard Man: Freak or not, she’s one of us! And I expect you all to treat her with respect!! 

His crew began to murmur to each other again by his statement and Mint continued to watch in total awe. She couldn’t believe that he is accepting her as a fellow monster. A hand was presented to her and she took it, spying his proud smile on his snout and he pulled her up.

Mint: (Awestruck) Thank you.......

Deep Male Voice: What are we going to do now?!

Lizard Man: I’ll say.....we make her one of us. (To Mint) What name do you go by?

Mint: (Stuttering) M-M-M-M-M-Mint... It’s Mint.....You?

The lizard man smirked at her with such pride that she felt a huge sense of respect flowing into her.

Lizard man: I go by the name...........Toffee.

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And there you have it folks! The first meeting of Mint and Toffee! I hope you like it Lynea!! 

[kaleid-tay-scope]

Taylor Swift - Elle

30 Things I Learned Before Turning 30

By Taylor Swift Mar 6, 2019

Photographed by Ben Hassett; Styled by Paul Cavaco

According to my birth certificate, I turn 30 this year. It's weird because part of me still feels 18 and part of me feels 283, but the actual age I currently am is 29. I've heard people say that your thirties are "the most fun!" So I'll definitely keep you posted on my findings on that when I know. But until then, I thought I'd share some lessons I've learned before reaching 30, because it's 2019 and sharing is caring.

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I learned to block some of the noise. Social media can be great, but it can also inundate your brain with images of what you aren’t, how you’re failing, or who is in a cooler locale than you at any given moment. One thing I do to lessen this weird insecurity laser beam is to turn off comments. Yes, I keep comments off on my posts. That way, I’m showing my friends and fans updates on my life, but I’m training my brain to not need the validation of someone telling me I look . I’m also blocking out anyone who might feel the need to tell me to “go die in a hole ho” while I’m having my coffee at nine in the morning. I think it’s healthy for your self-esteem to need less internet praise to appease it, especially when three comments down you could unwittingly see someone telling you that you look like a weasel that got hit by a truck and stitched back together by a drunk taxidermist. An actual comment I received once.

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Being sweet to everyone all the time can get you into a lot of trouble. While it may be born from having been raised to be a polite young lady, this can contribute to some of your life’s worst regrets if someone takes advantage of this trait in you. Grow a backbone, trust your gut, and know when to strike back. Be like a snake—only bite if someone steps on you.

Photographed by Ben Hassett; Styled by Paul Cavaco

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Trying and failing and trying again and failing again is normal. It may not feel normal to me because all of my trials and failures are blown out of proportion and turned into a spectator sport by tabloid takedown culture (you had to give me one moment of bitterness, come on). BUT THAT SAID, it’s good to mess up and learn from it and take risks. It’s especially good to do this in your twenties because we are searching. That’s GOOD. We’ll always be searching but never as intensely as when our brains are still developing at such a rapid pace. No, this is not an excuse to text your ex right now. That’s not what I said. Or do it, whatever, maybe you’ll learn from it. Then you’ll probably forget what you learned and do it again.... But it’s fine; do you, you’re searching.

I learned to stop hating every ounce of fat on my body. I worked hard to retrain my brain that a little extra weight means curves, shinier hair, and more energy. I think a lot of us push the boundaries of dieting, but taking it too far can be really dangerous. There is no quick fix. I work on accepting my body every day.

Banish the drama. You only have so much room in your life and so much energy to give to those in it. Be discerning. If someone in your life is hurting you, draining you, or causing you pain in a way that feels unresolvable, blocking their number isn’t cruel. It’s just a simple setting on your phone that will eliminate drama if you so choose to use it.

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I’ve learned that society is constantly sending very loud messages to women that exhibiting the physical signs of aging is the worst thing that can happen to us. These messages tell women that we aren’t allowed to age. It’s an impossible standard to meet, and I’ve been loving how outspoken Jameela Jamil has been on this subject. Reading her words feels like hearing a voice of reason amongst all these loud messages out there telling women we’re supposed to defy gravity, time, and everything natural in order to achieve this bizarre goal of everlasting youth that isn’t even remotely required of men.

Every day I try to remind myself of the good in the world, the love I’ve witnessed and the faith I have in humanity. We have to live bravely in order to truly feel alive, and that means not being ruled by our greatest fears.

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My biggest fear. After the Manchester Arena bombing and the Vegas concert shooting, I was completely terrified to go on tour this time because I didn’t know how we were going to keep 3 million fans safe over seven months. There was a tremendous amount of planning, expense, and effort put into keeping my fans safe. My fear of violence has continued into my personal life. I carry QuikClot army grade bandage dressing, which is for gunshot or stab wounds. Websites and tabloids have taken it upon themselves to post every home address I’ve ever had online. You get enough stalkers trying to break into your house and you kind of start prepping for bad things. Every day I try to remind myself of the good in the world, the love I’ve witnessed and the faith I have in humanity. We have to live bravely in order to truly feel alive, and that means not being ruled by our greatest fears.

I learned not to let outside opinions establish the value I place on my own life choices. For too long, the projected opinions of strangers affected how I viewed my relationships. Whether it was the general internet consensus of who would be right for me, or what they thought was “couples goals” based on a picture I posted on Instagram. That stuff isn’t real. For an approval seeker like me, it was an important lesson for me to learn to have my OWN value system of what I actually want.

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I learned how to make some easy cocktails like Pimm’s cups, Aperol spritzes, Old-Fashioneds, and Mojitos because…2016.

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I’ve always cooked a LOT, but I found three recipes I know I’ll be making at dinner parties for life:Ina Garten’s Real Meatballs and Spaghetti (I just use packaged bread crumbs and only ground beef for meat), Nigella Lawson’s Mughlai Chicken, and Jamie Oliver’s Chicken Fajitas with Molé Sauce. Getting a garlic crusher is a whole game changer. I also learned how to immediately calculate Celsius to Fahrenheit in my head. (Which is what I’m pretty sure the internet would call a “weird flex.”)

I believe victims because I know firsthand about the shame and stigma that comes with raising your hand and saying “This happened to me.”

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Recently I discovered Command tape, and I definitely would have fewer holes in my walls if I’d hung things that way all along. This is not an ad. I just really love Command tape.

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Apologizing when you have hurt someone who really matters to you takes nothing away from you. Even if it was unintentional, it’s so easy to just apologize and move on. Try not to say “I’m sorry, but...” and make excuses for yourself. Learn how to make a sincere apology, and you can avoid breaking down the trust in your friendships and relationships.

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It’s my opinion that in cases of sexual assault, I believe the victim. Coming forward is an agonizing thing to go through. I know because my sexual assault trial was a demoralizing, awful experience. I believe victims because I know firsthand about the shame and stigma that comes with raising your hand and saying “This happened to me.” It’s something no one would choose for themselves. We speak up because we have to, and out of fear that it could happen to someone else if we don’t.

Photographed by Ben Hassett; Styled by Paul Cavaco.

When tragedy strikes someone you know in a way you’ve never dealt with before, it’s okay to say that you don’t know what to say.Sometimes just saying you’re so sorry is all someone wants to hear. It’s okay to not have any helpful advice to give them; you don’t have all the answers. However, it’s not okay to disappear from their life in their darkest hour. Your support is all someone needs when they’re at their lowest point. Even if you can’t really help the situation, it’s nice for them to know that you would if you could.

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Vitamins make me feel so much better! I take L-theanine, which is a natural supplement to help with stress and anxiety. I also take magnesium for muscle health and energy.

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Before you jump in headfirst, maybe, I don’t know...get to know someone! All that glitters isn’t gold, and first impressions actually aren’t everything. It’s impressive when someone can charm people instantly and own the room, but what I know now to be more valuable about a person is not their charming routine upon meeting them (I call it a “solid first 15”), but the layers of a person you discover in time. Are they honest, self-aware, and slyly funny at the moments you least expect it? Do they show up for you when you need them? Do they still love you after they’ve seen you broken? Or after they’ve walked in on you having a full conversation with your cats as if they’re people? These are things a first impression could never convey.

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After my teen years and early twenties of sleeping in my makeup and occasionally using a Sharpie as eyeliner (DO NOT DO IT), I felt like I needed to start being nicer to my skin. I now moisturize my face every night and put on body lotion after I shower, not just in the winter, but all year round, because, why can’t I be soft during all the seasons?!

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Realizing childhood scars and working on rectifying them. For example, never being popular as a kid was always an insecurity for me. Even as an adult, I still have recurring flashbacks of sitting at lunch tables alone or hiding in a bathroom stall, or trying to make a new friend and being laughed at. In my twenties I found myself surrounded by girls who wanted to be my friend. So I shouted it from the rooftops, posted pictures, and celebrated my newfound acceptance into a sisterhood, without realizing that other people might still feel the way I did when I felt so alone. It’s important to address our long-standing issues before we turn into the living embodiment of them.

Photographed by Ben Hassett; Styled by Paul Cavaco

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Playing mind games is for the chase. In a real relationship or friendship, you’re shooting yourself in the foot if you don’t tell the other person how you feel, and what could be done to fix it. No one is a mind reader. If someone really loves you, they want you to verbalize how you feel. This is real life, not chess.

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Learning the difference between lifelong friendships and situationships. Something about “we’re in our young twenties!” hurls people together into groups that can feel like your chosen family. And maybe they will be for the rest of your life. Or maybe they’ll just be your comrades for an important phase, but not forever. It’s sad but sometimes when you grow, you outgrow relationships. You may leave behind friendships along the way, but you’ll always keep the memories.

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Fashion is all about playful experimentation. If you don’t look back at pictures of some of your old looks and cringe, you’re doing it wrong. See: Bleachella.

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How to fight fair with the ones you love. Chances are you’re not trying to hurt the person you love and they aren’t trying to hurt you. If you can wind the tension of an argument down to a conversation about where the other person is coming from, there’s a greater chance you can remove the shame of losing a fight for one of you and the ego boost of the one who “won” the fight. I know a couple who, in the thick of a fight, say “Hey, same team.” Find a way to defuse the anger that can spiral out of control and make you lose sight of the good things you two have built. They don’t give out awards for winning the most fights in your relationship. They just give out divorce papers.

There’s a common misconception that artists have to be miserable in order to make good art, that art and suffering go hand in hand. I’m really grateful to have learned this isn’t true. Finding happiness and inspiration at the same time has been really cool.

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I learned that I have friends and fans in my life who don’t care if I’m #canceled. They were there in the worst times and they’re here now. The fans and their care for me, my well-being, and my music were the ones who pulled me through. The most emotional part of the Reputation Stadium Tour for me was knowing I was looking out at the faces of the people who helped me get back up. I’ll never forget the ones who stuck around.

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I’ve had to learn how to handle serious illness in my family. Both of my parents have had cancer, and my mom is now fighting her battle with it again. It’s taught me that there are real problems and then there’s everything else. My mom’s cancer is a real problem. I used to be so anxious about daily ups and downs. I give all of my worry, stress, and prayers to real problems now.

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I remember people asking me, “What are you gonna write about if you ever get happy?” There’s a common misconception that artists have to be miserable in order to make good art, that art and suffering go hand in hand. I’m really grateful to have learned this isn’t true. Finding happiness and inspiration at the same time has been really cool.

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I make countdowns for things I’m excited about. When I’ve gone through dark, low times, I’ve always found a tiny bit of relief and hope in getting a countdown app (they’re free) and adding things I’m looking forward to. Even if they’re not big holidays or anything, it’s good to look toward the future. Sometimes we can get overwhelmed in the now, and it’s good to get some perspective that life will always go on, to better things.

Photographed by Ben Hassett; Styled by Paul Cavaco

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I learned that disarming someone’s petty bullying can be as simple as learning to laugh. In my experience, I’ve come to see that bullies want to be feared and taken seriously. A few years ago, someone started an online hate campaign by calling me a snake on the internet. The fact that so many people jumped on board with it led me to feeling lower than I’ve ever felt in my life, but I can’t tell you how hard I had to keep from laughing every time my 63-foot inflatable cobra named Karyn appeared onstage in front of 60,000 screaming fans. It’s the Stadium Tour equivalent of responding to a troll’s hateful Instagram comment with “lol.” It would be nice if we could get an apology from people who bully us, but maybe all I’ll ever get is the satisfaction of knowing I could survive it, and thrive in spite of it.

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I’m finding my voice in terms of politics. I took a lot of time educating myself on the political system and the branches of government that are signing off on bills that affect our day-to-day life. I saw so many issues that put our most vulnerable citizens at risk, and felt like I had to speak up to try and help make a change. Only as someone approaching 30 did I feel informed enough to speak about it to my 114 million followers. Invoking racism and provoking fear through thinly veiled messaging is not what I want from our leaders, and I realized that it actually is my responsibility to use my influence against that disgusting rhetoric. I’m going to do more to help. We have a big race coming up next year.

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I learned that your hair can completely change texture. From birth, I had the curliest hair and now it is STRAIGHT. It’s the straight hair I wished for every day in junior high. But just as I was coming to terms with loving my curls, they’ve left me. Please pray for their safe return.

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My mom always tells me that when I was a little kid, she never had to punish me for misbehaving because I would punish myself even worse. I’d lock myself in my room and couldn’t forgive myself, as a five-year-old. I realized that I do the same thing now when I feel I’ve made a mistake, whether it’s self-imposed exile or silencing myself and isolating. I’ve come to a realization that I need to be able to forgive myself for making the wrong choice, trusting the wrong person, or figuratively falling on my face in front of everyone. Step into the daylight and let it go.

Hair by Serge Normant for Serge Normant Hair Care; makeup by Francelle for Lovecraft Beauty; manicure by Denise Bourne for Deborah Lippmann; produced by Kristen Terry at Rosco Production.

#taylor swift elle #Taylor Swift

[beanarie]

past & pending 3

this is for @stele3 whose lovely comment led to a somewhat mostly done chapter 1. <3 there’s a bunch more written, but none of it’s going on ao3 until i know how to pull the rest together. the rest of the series (post-finale, everyone’s in love) is here.

Welcome to the McGraw-Hamilton Bed and Breakfast, where no one ever calls ahead for reservations.

 ~~~

They watch the wagon approach for several long moments before Thomas's eyes grow almost impossibly wide and he comes out with it. "That couldn't be our Silver."

Thomas has never seen Silver bare-faced or walking with a boot that obscures, at first glance, that there's anything missing. It's strangely less jarring to see him like this than it is to see him looking like this and limping towards them, as if James expected him to still have his leg.

As he opens his mouth to call out a greeting, a small head pops up from the back of the wagon. For a moment James thinks... but no.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," Thomas says, "but that child is entirely-"

"Too old," James agrees. They watch her throw her arms around Silver so he can help her to the ground. She seems to be somewhere in that middle space between five and ten. Her skin is darker than he remembers Madi's being. Not theirs.

Another head pops up, this one belonging to an adult. Thomas makes a noise. "Is that-"

"No." James frowns as Silver guides her out of the wagon as well. "I have no idea who that woman is."

Silver tips his chin in their direction. "Everyone?" he says, projecting his voice. Four more emerge from the wagon, a man and three boys of varying sizes. "Meet Thomas and James."

James stares until Silver looks at least marginally shamed. "Sorry, for not writing," Silver lies. "We couldn't risk a message being intercepted."

"You also couldn't risk us saying no," James says under his breath.

Silver shows nearly all of his teeth. "How are my cats? I'm certain they missed me."

Thomas coughs so he doesn't laugh and cause James to snap and murder someone. "Well! I guess I'm dressing another chicken for dinner. Two more, perhaps?"

~ "We're seeking sanctuary," Silver explains, his mouth half full of stewed chicken. "Not here, of course. We have an idea of where to find Esther's mother." They're not all related. That's clear from their interactions. There appears to be a platonic connection between Esther and Obi, the two adults, and the middle boy looks to be Obi's son.  "As for Felix and Andres," Silver continues, tilting his head toward the end of the table, where the largest boy sits with the smallest. "We, ah, picked them up along the way. Does that description feel accurate to you, Madam? Any objections to my phrasing?"

Esther's lips turn up slightly. She looks about thirty. "None," she says, not rising to what was clearly bait. He was teasing her.

After supper, after the washing up, everyone gathers in the parlor and their guests form a wonky, expectant semi-circle around Silver. Story time. James shouldn't be surprised. Children must provide an even more receptive ear than a crew of filthy, brutal, goat-fucking onanists had.

Silver tells of the fight for survival of a sparrow in the grips of a hawk. It's full of hair-raising chases and last-minute escapes.

"Boom!" He claps two hands together and the young girl sits up straighter. "A bolt of lightning hit the hawk, ending his journey in split second. He fell to the ground just steps from where I stood, stone dead, cooked, and even dressed for dinner. The shock of the lightning caused his feathers to flee from his body."

His audience begins to object, the children squirming and laughing. "Stop, please," Obi says, amusement and pain equally evident in his voice.

"On the soul of my dear Grandfather Solomon, when that bird fell he was more naked than the day he emerged from his egg. I have never eaten so well so easily in my life."

Esther scoffs and says nothing.

Felix turns to his brother and asks him a question in Creole. Andres nods and looks to Silver. "The sparrow?"

"Oh, Miss Sparrow took full advantage of her captor's misfortune. She saw her opening, and she took it. She flew away with lightning at her tail-feathers and never looked back."

~

The crash of Silver's fake leg hitting the floor disturbs the quiet within seconds of James closing the door. He's breathing hard, his eyes closed. "Six days," he says, rolling his shoulders and grimacing.

"Have you not taken it off at all?"

He opens his eyes and laughs sheepishly. "Honestly, I'm a little afraid to look."

"You could have removed it hours ago."

"That-" Silver waves a hand at the floor. "-is not going back on for quite some time and I didn't relish the idea of hopping about the rest of the evening." "What became of your crutch?"

"Giving indigestion to a whale, sprouting roots in the first stage of becoming a tree that will outlast us all, reading Aeschylus and Homer at fucking Cambridge. Does it matter?"

James finishes rummaging around in the trunk and rises with a laugh.

Silver narrows his eyes. "What is that?" He lifts a hand to object. "Before you start, yes, I'm fully cognizant of what that is, but, just. James. You did not buy me a crutch."

"You're correct. I did not buy it." James looks down at the crutch in his left hand and lifts a shoulder. Silver blinks once, then freezes. "Seemed a better use of my time than repairing the kitchen table again."

No response.

"Do you not agree?"

Silver remains still as a Grecian statue.

James sighs. "All right."

A smile pulls at one corner of Silver's mouth. "Well," he says. "It's no declaring war against the British empire in my name. But it'll do."

James swears under his breath. The curse he is under, that could not have been cast after he did anything to deserve it. He would have remembered something so significant, he would have noticed, and he would have taken steps to account for it. It must have been long, long ago. A malevolent figure emerging from the sea, finding his mother, and placing its ghostly finger on him while still inside her womb. Reaching out to his fluttering, thimble-sized heart and proclaiming in a ghastly wheeze most mortals could not hear, Room for shameless fucking miscreants only.

"You were planning on letting me see it, no?" Silver beckons lazily. As soon as James gets within range, a callused hand covers his and tugs, pulling him closer. Silver's fingers ghost over his brow-bone, reverent, and James considers thanking the sea witch after all. "Oh," Silver breathes, "I have missed you."

"Status report, Mr. McGraw?"

James pulls away to check that Thomas closed the door fully behind him. "He's being sincere, so I'd estimate we have about three minutes until exhaustion claims him for the night." They hadn't discussed where he would be sleeping, however, the room they still think of as his is now taken by Esther and the girl. With Obi and... smaller Obi, then the Creole brothers occupying another two rooms, there are still a few options for Silver. Neither Thomas nor Silver will likely voice these other options, so James certainly will not.

Thomas joins them from the other side of the bed. Silver's lips part in a surprised yet grateful moan, and then James spies Thomas's nimble fingers kneading his left shoulder.

"Trying to speed the process along?" Silver murmurs.

"Removing you from the conversation before your compromised self reveals something you may regret later."

The smile Silver favors James with is almost shy. "You know, sometimes it's fairly easy to see why you love him."

James meets his eyes then grins wickedly at Thomas over his shoulder. "Thomas, your efforts come too late."

"What, that? That was hardly..."

James eases away from the bed, rolling his eyes, and seems to catch something out the window. Something is moving out there.

Silver keeps going, though his tone grows vaguer by the word. "Khanyi, the girl, she may wonder where I am. She and Madi are kin of a sort and she seems to have appointed herself my minder."

"If she should rise before you, I'll take her to meet the animals," Thomas says. "They are marginally more entertaining to look after."

"Obi should have something for the children to do. He was a schoolteacher on the island. He's been subjecting them all to twice daily lessons."

"We have some books he may find beneficial."

"Esther will want to go hunting. Andres can go with her, but Felix and Obi's boy, Seydou, no. They'll lose their way chasing after baby deer and get themselves eaten by an alligator."

"How long do you plan on sleeping?" Thomas says, as James exits the room.

James approaches the front door, feeling a bit of a fool. A knock banishes thoughts of delusion from his head. So he did not imagine what he saw.

The woman at the other side is soaked to the bone, shivering, illuminated by lightning at her back.

James breathes out. "Madi."

"James," she says, using the manner in which he closed his letters.

Upon returning to the master bedroom, he gets past the threshold and simply... stops. Silver is dead to the world, his head tipped back and his mouth wide open. Like as not he'll be snoring soon. Thomas sits next to him with his ankles crossed, repairing a hole in someone's trousers with a needle and thread. James keenly wishes he were more practiced at painting human figures. Still, his brain, helpful as ever, catalogues details as though preparing to put them on a canvas. The crease of the pillow- James's pillow- under Silver's bad leg. The furrow of concentration splitting Thomas's brow.

"Is something happening?" Thomas asks, and it's enough to spur James out of his reverie and over to the armoire.

"We have an additional houseguest."

"Truly?" Thomas asks, as though they already host the world entire.

James grabs a blanket and one of his shirts. "You should put the kettle on."

~

In the first few minutes, they exchange standard pleasantries, she forwards her compliments on their home, and they manage to establish that everyone else arrived safely (plus two) and no, she did not travel all this way on her own.

"My escort chose to remain in town," she says. "But I have to say, if I had no escort, it would be no one's business save my own."

Thomas presses his lips together before he rallies. "This is quite true, Miss Scott. I do hope we did not offend."

Madi sighs quietly and adjusts the blanket around her. She looks diminished in his shirt and her damp trousers, small and miserable and uncertain.

"I am glad to see you," James ventures, heartened when he gets a tiny smile out of her.

"You've said," she points out, not unkindly.

"The sentiment is no less genuine for having been repeated."

"Might we get you something to eat, dear lady?" Thomas nearly begs, his sense of empathy going haywire from having a lovely woman in his kitchen visibly fighting back tears. "Dinner has been handily polished off, but we have bread and cheese. And fruit. I could fry some eggs?"

"Madi?"

Esther stands at the doorway and Madi all but jumps, dropping the blanket on the floor. She pulls herself together with an almost audible effort as Esther asks question after question in a language he does not know well enough to identify at rapid fire speeds.

Their hands inch ever closer and, well. That is not what he was expecting.

#black sails #black sails fic #silverflinthamilton #i won't tag silvermadi bc it's not in this section but they are very much a part of this fic #fun fact 99% of this was written an entire year ago #anyhoo my sunday is over and i need to go to bed #my writing #things by beanarie

[sirkkasnow]

09 Catch Your Breath When You Can

Ao3 link

07/17/13 Wednesday evening

Stan was shoulder deep in the Fairlane’s engine compartment when the kids finally made it home late that afternoon. Dipper waved and headed straight inside; Mabel came over to lean casually against the front fender. “So?”

“There’s a meatloaf in the fridge for dinner an’ we’ve got potatoes, and I guess the fixins for salad if you’re into that kinda thing.”

Mabel pressed both hands over her eyes and groaned in protest. “Nooooooo. I mean did you call her? Did you get to do your something nice whatever it was? You’ve gotta be almost done with the car!”

“Yep, almost done.” Stan straightened up with a sigh and latched the hood. “Gonna fire it up in the morning, see where we’re at. Probably a day, day an’ a half to finish up, then she’s free t’go.”

“You’re not just gonna let her walk out of here, right?” She was peeping out at him between fingers now, looking horrified. “I know you’d both regret it.”

Stan pinched his lips against a smile - his poker face was cracking. “Well, I maybe mighta lined up a flick after dinner. So if you could help keep the nerd brigade occupied that’d be great.”

Mabel produced a whistle-shrill hypersonic squeal of delight and flung herself at him for a hug. “I knew you could do it! Consider the nerd brigade well and truly distracted! You report to me on everything, got it?”

“Mabel, c’mon, it’s just a movie.” He was grinning anyway as he swiped down his hands.

The five of them gathered for what proved to be a noisy meal. One tiny nudge from Mabel was enough to derail the conversation into DD&MD worldbuilding. “Clary’s about to leave,” she said firmly, “she hasn’t gotten to play one game and we need to fix that.” Within fifteen minutes the rulebooks were scattered across the crowded kitchen table and both Ford and Dipper were talking scenarios and taking notes.

Clary had spent most of the afternoon napping. She looked crisp and refreshed, a froth of peony pink silk knotted off-center at her throat, tossing an occasional suggestion into the chaos. Mabel vanished for a minute or two as the plates were cleared. When she returned it was with arms full of scrapbooking supplies and an unsubtle jerk of the chin towards the living room.

Stan took the hint and slipped out unnoticed, setting up a dinette chair next to the recliner. He tracked down a couple of pillows and a light blanket to make the whole thing a little more comfortable. Clary showed up a few minutes later, hands in pockets, still smiling to herself. “I’ve been banished,” she murmured over the background conversation from the kitchen. “So they can surprise me in the morning.”

“Damn shame, too bad, movies are under the TV.” He punched the pillows in a mostly-futile effort to fluff them up as she knelt to sort through the cabinet. He’d tracked down the remote and gotten comfortable in the recliner by the time she waved a worn black-and-white cardboard sleeve at him: Captain Of Her Heart.

“Old-school okay?”

“Um. It’s mushy.”

“I can handle mushy.”

“It’s sad.”

“I can handle sad and I’m not in the mood for nature documentaries.” Clary slotted in the tape, fiddled with the channels until trailers for twenty-year-old New Releases! began to play, and collected a box of tissues before settling into her seat.

“You a crier?” Stan nudged her tissues with a knuckle and she gave him a dirty look.

“Insurance. Settle down.” Clary stacked pillows against the recliner’s back corner, propped her elbow on the arm near his and made herself at home. He’d seen this one a million times, an obscure classic in his opinion with some really good on-location seaside shooting for its era. Familiarity never seemed to make this one hit any less hard.

He found that it was hitting maybe a little harder than usual. The bookish harbormaster’s daughter and the rough-edged first mate she’d spent the last hour falling improbably in love with walked the shoreline under a spotlight moon, switching to closeup against a painted backdrop for their wrenching scene of farewell.

Stan stole a couple tissues while she wasn’t looking. Clary already had one clutched to her lips, tears welling up at the corners of her eyes in resolute silence. Maybe she was a bit of a crier after all, though she held it together pretty well through the last ten minutes or so.

Once the ship had departed and the harbormaster’s daughter had slipped down to the docks in the night, dressed in a man’s traveling clothes and bound for parts unknown, Clary blew her nose in an undignified honk. He would have teased her if he weren’t busy trying to do the same without her hearing him. At last she settled close to watch the brief credits. When the tape ran out and the screen went to static he grumbled and jabbed at the remote until the TV snapped off.

They rested together in the near-dark. Stan listened as the rhythm of her breathing steadied. “Good flick,” she murmured at length, in no apparent hurry to move.

“One of my favorites,” he admitted, equally quiet. “I did warn ya. If, ah, if it’d help, there’s a sequel...or I could maybe get Soos to write some kinda fix-it, he’s good at that fanfiction stuff….” He felt rather than saw the subtle shake of her head. “What, no?”

“It’d be cheating.”

“C’mon, now, there’s nothin’ wrong with chasin’ a happy ending - “

“They’re hard to catch.” He heard her swallow thickly and felt her shift to turn a little more into him. “Why the heck don’t you have a couch? I don’t want to move yet but this is uncomfortable as hell.” Stan considered bolting to leave her some privacy, then held his breath and wriggled his arm free to lay it lightly around her.

“This a little better?”

Clary drew up her legs and nestled into his side without hesitation. “Much.”

“So - we don’t have a couch because we didn’t need one until everyone was leavin’ at the end of last summer, anyway - “ He was cursing the lack of a couch right now, because the arm of the damned recliner was wedged between them and this would be a very nice post-movie snuggle without it. “I’m not sure Ford an’ I ever really thought we’d be back for more’n a quick visit. Soos hasn’t had time to update the place much.”

“You said you’d been running the Shack for thirty years. Alone?”

Stan hissed softly, dragging his free hand through his hair. “Yep,” he said just before the pause went beyond recovery. “More or less. Kids first visited last summer an’ that changed a whole lot.”

“From what I’ve gathered in town last summer was pretty lively.” He felt her smile against him. “Funny, no one really wants to talk about it.”

“It was, uh.” He groped for the right word and finally said, frustrated, “Weird.” Clary laughed softly. “Listen. I am not the one who should be givin’ pep talks, you get that? But I can promise that sometimes y’catch the happy ending.”

The house had gone quiet around them, the kids retreated to bed, Ford probably downstairs. Stan flinched in surprise as her cool hand covered his at her shoulder. “I’ll take your word for it,” Clary murmured. “And thanks. For today. Not everyone handles - “ She tugged at her silk scarf with a fingertip.

“We both got history, kid, I got no right t’pry.”

“I’ve been preemptively dumped over this, you know.”

“Hah! Just as well. You don’t strike me as the type t’date idiots.”

“No. I’m not.”

A minute or two drifted by like that, comfortable, the warmth of contact something he hadn’t slowed down to enjoy in an eternity. Stan had about found the perfect angle to pillow his cheek against her hair when she stirred. He rumbled in protest before he could stop himself, arm tightening for a second then relaxing as she sat up straight.

The wan wash of light from the hallway gilded the slope of her cheek; her shadowed eyes held a determined glint. “I’m in too good a mood to talk about ancient history, but I’d like to trade stories with you sometime.”

“Sure, but I don’t know when - “ She tilted her head in reproach and any further protest stalled in his throat.

“Stan. You made the fatal mistake of giving me your phone number.” Stan cracked a crooked grin and she went on, low-voiced and all velvet persuasion. “Let me know when you hit a port I can get to. Anywhere in the north Atlantic’s fine. If you end up someplace warm, like say Gibraltar or the Azores, so much the better. Drinks are on me.”

He almost barked out a laugh, a startled little huff like she’d just sucker-punched him. “You askin’ me out? Your treat?”

“Yes.” The practiced look of light amusement on her face faded by degrees into something more apprehensive. “If you’d like. I’d hate to never see you again.”

His brain locked up hard, spinning off into logistics and complications and the overwhelming desire to not fuck up the good thing he had going. Mercifully his mouth got out ahead, as usual. “Yeah. Definitely. I’d - really, really like that.”

She lit up in a split second of unguarded happiness for maybe the first time since they’d met. Clary leaned in too quickly to intercept, her lips grazing the stubble of his cheek as a fleeting whiff of her faded peony perfume curled into his nose. “Great. So would I.”

Stan’s hands twitched once with the sudden impulse to snag her by the waist and drag her into his lap before common sense shut that down. She couldn’t quite look him straight on as she withdrew and this time he laughed in earnest. “Oh, c’mon, counselor, y’can’t make a pitch like that an’ then go all shy on me.”

“Sure I can.” Clary’s fingers tightened in his, then slipped away as she rose. “I’d better go to bed before I say anything else incriminating. See you in the morning.”

“What, alone?”

“Stan.”

“It’s gonna be chilly, want me to drop off a couple extra blankets - “

“Stanley.”

“I got a sideline in personal furnace services - “

“Oh my god. Don’t make me regret saying anything.” The chuckle she was trying so hard to suppress laid a husky note under the words as she headed for the hallway.

“G’night, sweetpea.”

She slipped through the door with a last backward glance. He sat back to think it over, eyes closed, horrified and delighted all at once.

Mostly delighted, he decided, pressing fingers to his cheek where she’d kissed him.

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“I’d hate to never see you again.” She looks anxious, jittery with anticipation and a little sad all at once.

Definitely.

Maybe.

I just can’t.

#Gravity Falls #gfdatingsim #DDtMMW #Swooning Over Stans #Stanley Pines #OClicious #fanfic