#i am half asleep but this felt important and cannot wait until tomorrow

[agent-cupcake]

Can we have an updated take on your dark!claude headcanons. They don’t have to be extensive, just curious to see how your thoughts on him have evolved since the first set you wrote 💜

When I first wrote that I think I saw Claude as being more pragmatic than I do now. Actually, in general, I just had a very different take on him than I do now. Don’t get me wrong, Claude obviously isn’t acting out on ridiculous impulses solely based on emotional reactions and doing crazy things in the name of love solely for the sake of “love”, but I didn’t really take into consideration that he’s a deeply lonely and instinctually empathetic person who cares for the people around him to a potentially destructive degree. So it wouldn’t be as important about what you were to him as a king as much as it would who you were, and being “important” in a utilitarian sense wouldn’t matter at all if he had any reason to be worried that you were being messed with (he has plenty of experience with how catastrophically terrible that sort of thing can be) or that your position in his life was threatened in any way. If the stage was set correctly for him to already have a predisposition towards an unhealthily dependent or obsessive/possessive relationship with you, I think that those things would be the trigger for making him go all the way into doing messed up things for your sake. When rereading my past headcanons, that was the biggest thing I disagreed with. 

Claude’s process of reassuring himself that what he’s doing is fine through reason and half-truths and convincing you with a silver tongue and continuously pushing limits until you’re allowing even the most absurd of behavior all under the guise of a normal and happy and loving guy is still pretty much how I think Claude would deal with this. His preoccupation with you being somebody who sees the “real him” would also be important, as feeling seen and loved for who he is would be Claude’s dream and that would be a big component of the preexisting unhealthy dynamic. 

I didn’t note this before, but Claude would be exhausting. His main motivation for isolating, stalking, and “protecting” you being based primarily on emotion would mean that your emotional responses, the way you interacted with him, and the level of support he’d require would be far more intense than in a reasonable relationship without the same level of equal emotional repayment as he would be so heavily entrenched in his own lies and justifications for the abusive behaviors that he wouldn’t be able to drop the act for too long. As is so often the ironically tragic case of these dark personalities, his desperate need to cling to you in this way would make the relationship even more isolating in many ways. Worse, I’m sure he’d know this and have found a way to mentally loop his way around it. His awareness of the situation would be the part that really makes it exhausting, Claude wouldn’t be fooled by lipservice or be totally okay if you just weren't feeling it. Sure, if you were having an off day emotionally and needed his support, he’d give it. He’d listen to your problems and comfort you and do whatever to fix them because his love would be genuine, right? Don’t ever get that twisted. But if Claude knew your distance was because you were punishing him (and by punishing, I mean acting out against his treatment of you) in any way, he’d know. If you were trying to avoid your role in the relationship by faking it, he wouldn’t let it slide. Either by calling you on it bluntly or holding onto it until he could use it against you, and maybe even with punishment. Not anything fun like spanking, but messed up mental games of ~teasingly~ withholding affection or convincing you to let down your guard enough for him to figure out why you’re acting the way you are and then use that to convince you of how wrong you were, how it only proves that you need him, that you need to work together to be happy and have this relationship work, that he could get a sycophantic idiot anywhere and that he only wants you. 

The exhaustion would also come to the outward implications of his feelings. Full-on yandere-style killing is not his style at all, but if you were to get a little too cozy with people he didn’t approve of, there’s a chance they’d find themselves suddenly brought up on charges of an old crime or “needed to serve somewhere else” or things of that nature. Not illegal and not lies, but awfully convenient interpretations of the law and his position. Yeah, you can go out and do things that you want to do, but he’s going to have you guarded and, sorry, that’s not negotiable. He’d trust you, truly, but Claude would not ever trust the world. Not with you. If there was anything you wanted to do, why wouldn’t it be okay for him to tag along? Don’t you want to spend some quality time together? It sounds clingy, but he’d do it all in such a theatrically casual way that it could be pretty convincing and misleading.

And I really think these sorts of things, being driven to taking such extreme action in both your emotional interactions and in your safety, would make him mad. Claude would be angry that you’re doing things that make him feel like he needs to respond, yeah, but also be furious with himself for reacting in such a way and hurting you because he’d know that what he was doing wasn't okay. But Claude doesn’t express anger. And especially not to you, the person he loves the most in the world. His childhood taught him that anger was a tool, and so he uses it against you in other ways, which is why he feels the need to engage in the complicated emotional fuckery and getting rid of people he’s jealous of and keeping you safe to a ridiculous degree.

#fe3h #claude von riegan #yandere #headcanons #yandere headcanons #fe claude #fire emblem three houses #i am half asleep but this felt important and cannot wait until tomorrow #Anonymous

[frogtanii]

tw. mentions / descriptions of a panic attack

bokuto was excited — more excited than he’d been in weeks!

he was finally getting the time to spend time with his beloved, his puppy, for the first time in forever thanks to the recent onslaught of drama the house had been embroiled in.

he figured he should thank you for bringing it all on because now, as he stood in front of meiko’s room, he had a chance.

“puppy!” bokuto called out, knocking on her door enthusiastically. after a moment of muttering, shuffling around and a loud curse, the door opened up just a crack to reveal meiko clad in only a thin bedsheet with her thin lips wrapped around a cigarette.

kotarou peered over her head and into her room where he spotted a quick flash of dark brown hair before meiko stepped out and closed the door behind her.

“who was that?” he questioned innocently, assuming that it was one of the other housemates. meiko narrowed her eyes at him and blew out a puff of smoke.

“what do you want bokuto.” her voice was steely and cold, nothing like her usual peppy self. still, bokuto couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was in there who shouldn’t be.

“you know,” kotarou began hesitantly, studying her face for reactions. “iwaizumi doesn’t like anyone in here who hasn’t signed a contract. and also you’re not allowed to smoke.” his nose turned up at the smell, disgust for the cigarette written clear on his face.

meiko rolled her eyes at him before taking another drag and blowing the smoke out straight into his face. bokuto tried to hold his breath for as long as he could but his lung capacity wasn’t so great. i need to work on that, he thought as he heaved and choked on the smoke circling down into his chest.

the love of his life adjusted her sheet covering before dropping the cigarette to the ground and stomping it out with the end of the blanket. “i asked you a question bokuto. what the fuck do you want?”

the harshness in her tone made him pause. was what he was here for actually important? or would it just bother her unnecessarily?

no, he resolved. bokuto missed her and he wanted to spend time with his kinda-but-not-really-girlfriend! especially after he waited all this time!

“i, i wanted to spend time with you...” with every word, his hesitance grew until he was muttering, the look in meiko’s eyes sending chills down his spine.

“no,” she said and turned back to enter her room. “wait!” bokuto’s hand shot out to grab her arm, very gently pulling her closer to him. “please,” he whispered, tears beginning to rim his wide, golden eyes.

meiko stared back up at him with absolute rage in her eyes as she snatched her limb out of his hold. “listen to me right now bokuto, and listen well,” she sneered, taking a step back towards her bedroom. “i have never liked you. you’re so fucking childish and clingy and annoying! i literally cannot understand how anyone cares to hang around you.”

bokuto felt something inside him shatter at her words, a sharp gasp escaping his parted lips. “but-“ “no buts! you are fucking nothing to me! all you were was a warm body to sleep with but you weren’t even good for that,” meiko’s chest heaved as she finished speaking, her dark eyes trained on the tear tracks on bokuto’s cheeks.

gently, he lifted a hand to his face, barely registering the water that covered them, his mind desperately trying to understand what had just occurred. in the back of his head, he briefly noticed the sound of a door closing and muffled giggling but it was covered by the sound of blood rushing in his ears.

how... could she? he loved her and she, she only wanted to fuck him? he poured out his entire heart, his very soul to her and for what? for her to take it and stomp on it until there was nothing left?

bokuto’s chest felt heavy — he wasn’t breathing. quickly, he took one breath, and then another and another and another until he was collapsed on the ground, heaving for air as he sobbed.

why him? what had he done to deserve this? maybe it was karma — he’d let a plastic bag float by him into a stream when he was 7 even though he knew littering was wrong. maybe it was because he didn’t kiss his mother goodbye the last time he saw her. or maybe the universe was punishing him for everything he’d done to you.

oh, you — the person who meiko had tried so hard to convince him to hate, and he had! his beloved had no reason to lie to him, or at least that’s what he believed until this moment. she lied to him about loving and caring about him so why wouldn’t she lie about everything else?

bokuto’s head was pounding as he tried to rationalize where he’d gone wrong, his usually bright eyes, dull and trained on the ceiling as he attempted to regain his breathing.

it felt like his whole world was collapsing on itself like a fallen star, just waiting to implode and destroy everyone and everything until there was nothing left and—

“hey, look at me, you’re ok,” a soft voice rang out over the buzzing in his head, his eyes beginning to focus on... your figure.

what were you doing here? he so desperately wanted to ask but the words were caught in his throat, trapped behind a wall of despair and anguish.

“don’t try to talk ok? just focus on my breathing, try and match it. i’m going to touch you now.” your soft, small (so much smaller — were you eating enough?) hand wrapped around his own and brought it up to your chest where he could feel the steady rise and fall of your breathing.

bokuto’s breath was shaky and definitely not as smooth as your own, but you didn’t seem to mind, instead holding his hand to your heart until his breathing became level and even.

he must’ve knocked out because by the time he came to, the hall was dark and you were gone, the only memory of you being a box of tissues and a glass of water on the ground next to him.

he reached for the glass first, chugging the whole thing down in only a few seconds. all that crying must have dehydrated him immensely, he realized as he searched for another cup.

standing on shaky legs, bokuto attempted to maneuver to the kitchen, holding onto the walls for stability as he crept through the dark corridors.

he quickly filled up his favorite owl mug (a gift from she-who-will-not-be-named) with water once he made it to the kitchen, extra careful not to make a lot of noise just in case someone was asleep.

bokuto swiftly gulped down his water, placing the cup in the sink where he knew it would not remain because if anything was sure, it was the clean state of the house that meiko kept.

ugh meiko. the whole situation hurt to think about so he didn’t, instead choosing to bury it in the deep recesses of his mind, never to be seen again.

as bokuto trudged upstairs back to his bedroom, he noticed the big black trash bag sat at the end of the hall near daichi’s room. he debated on taking it out himself but was ultimately convinced not to.

it’ll be gone tomorrow, he reasoned as he slipped into his room and bed before quickly falling asleep.

...

it was not gone the next day. neither was the cup in the sink, or the hair on the floor in the bathroom, or the laundry strewn all over the living room.

the whole house seemed to be in shambles and it remained that way for the entirety of the week. meiko was nowhere to be seen, flitting in and out of the house at random, escaping to only god knows where with god knows who.

bokuto didn’t care anymore. she ruined his life so why should he give a half of a shit where she was? what he did care about, on the other hand, was figuring what to do about you.

he wanted to thank you and apologize but he wasn’t sure how to do so! he knew he said some horrible things to you and was determined to make it right — not just for you but for himself too.

℗ poker face

shattered

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - ok writing this genuinely made me cry???? bokuto is my comfort character so making him go through this i just </3 i hope it came across ok? it’s literally 1 am so there may v well be typos and massive mistakes but i hope u guys enjoy this miserably sad chapter LMAO don’t forget to feed me <3

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @sazunari • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @syndellwins • @jooleuuh • @amberalisa • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saikishairclip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @ris-illustration • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @babierin • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader smau #haikyuu smau #haikyuu x reader #hq smau #hq x reader smau #hq x reader #haikyuu angst #hq angst #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #atsumu x reader #osamu x reader #kenma x reader #kuroo x reader #bokuto x reader #akaashi x reader #daichi x reader #sugawara x reader #oikawa x reader #iwaizumi x reader #sakusa x reader #tw toxic behavior #tw toxicity #tw toxic relationship #tw panicking #tw panic attack #tw panic mention #haikyuu social media au

[scuttle-buttle]

What's One More?

WC: 3204

Rated: M

Tags: brief mentions of crime/mental illness/child abuse and neglect/substance addiction/theft, fluff, family dynamics, mentions of aging, mentions of difficult pregnancy, softness, anxiety attack

🧠

The harsh vibrating of a phone on the nightstand breaks your slumber. Still half asleep you toss your arm back to thump against your sleeping husband's side. With a groan he answers. You try to settle back into your pillow and the warmth of the blanket. Whoever has the balls to call at this hour has another thing coming - but later because your priority is going back to sleep.

He can't have been on the call more than fifteen seconds before he sits up in bed suddenly, turning on the bedside lamp; his movements grab your attention. You roll over. The light blinds you and you rub at your eyes to adjust. You can't make out what's being said. Looking at the clock to see that it's barely 4 am you know something bad has happened. Quietly you slip out from the covers.

Making your way down the hall you peek into your daughter's room, grateful that she's still fast asleep. Her soft snores punctuate the calm. Your nerves abate knowing she’s safe. By the time you get back to the bedroom Laszlo is up and getting dressed. "What's going on?"

He doesn't answer at first. You wait until he's finished buttoning his shirt to ask again. "Sara was called to consult on a triple homicide case - she's asked for me to come down to the police station. I don't know much yet, but it's something involving a young boy and she wants me to speak with him."

“Did he…?”

“No. He was not directly involved, that much we know.”

You nod, leaning against the door frame. This wasn't the first time that Laszlo had been called in by law enforcement and social services to assist with children and teens that needed psychological help. He had become more active around the time you graduated with your doctorate. After Sophia was born Laszlo helped fund an after school program for kids that focused on support for mental health and behavioral issues. He was so passionate about being able to help these kids. But it was never at this ungodly hour. "You'll call or something when you know what's up?" you ask through a yawn.

"Of course, Bärchen." He gives you a chaste peck. Gently he guides you back towards your bed and sits you down. "Go back to sleep, there's no need to worry. I love you." With that he left.

Your sleep is fitful with him gone. You worry over things that you aren't even aware of, over who is hurt, over how severe a situation it could be to have been called in the middle of the night, over the poor boy that needs Laszlo’s help. When your daughter tiptoes into the room around 6 you welcome her into the bed with open arms.

"Why are you up, baby bug?"

"Where's Papa?" She climbs up on his side of the bed and rubs his cold pillow. On her face is a deep frown.

"He had to go help some very important people early this morning. He'll be back to see you soon, I promise."

"I miss him. He always helps me with my shoes."

You can't help the smile that crosses your face. "I know, baby. But it's still early so let's take a nap before we have to get ready, hmm?" The two of you snuggle under the covers. With her curled into your side you do find rest, even for the short time before your alarm chimes.

The day moves sluggish as you wait for word from your husband. Little work was to be done today at the museum, so there wasn't much to keep your mind off the wondering. You considered calling. You considered texting. But you knew that when the time was right he would let you know. No news is good news, you think.

Finally the day came to a close. You picked up Sophia and stopped by the store on the way home to grab supplies for dinner. She insisted that she carry one of the bags inside - little miss independent that she was. “Careful not to drop it, okay? Use those muscles of yours to hold the bag tight.”

“Mama I know, I help Papa carry all the time,” she explains matter-of-factly.

The townhouse is quiet as you begin to unpack. You do a quick glance into the dining room and parlor to no avail. "Laz, honey? You home?" A few seconds later you hear movement from the stairs.

Your husband rounds the corner into the kitchen, swooping down to scoop your daughter into his left arm, peppering her face in exaggerated smooches. Her giggles light up the room from the dim atmosphere. He perches her on his hip. “How was your day my little dove?”

“So good Papa - I practiced my counting today at school. I can get the biggest in the class! Mommy said I must be the most smartest," she prattles on.

“Wunderbar!” he praises her before turning to you. “I didn't hear you come in." Laszlo kisses you.

Pinning him with a look you say "you also didn't call me today? You said you would and I've been worried all day."

Sophia crosses her arms and harrumphs from her father's hip; "me too Papa." He quirks an eyebrow at her before speaking.

"Yes… there is something I wished to speak with you on but didn't think it was suitable for the phone." You raise your own brows but continue to put away groceries. "I do not wish to discuss certain aspects of the case in present company-" he nods towards Sophia minutely "-but we do have a houseguest for the foreseeable future."

"Oh?" Your brows dip in confusion. This is not what you were expecting.

Laszlo peeks around the doorway and calls out "Stevie, would you come join us in the kitchen please."

Stevie? You don't know a Stevie...

A moment later a lanky boy with scruffy dark blond hair shuffles into the room. He can't be anymore than 15. His clothes are too big on him and his shoes are worn beyond belief; nevertheless he gives you a slight smile. “This is Stevie Taggert, he’s going to be staying here with us in the guest room for now.”

“Good evening Mrs. Kreizler,” the boy says nervously, his voice cracking.

You spare a look at your husband before turning to the teenager with a smile. “Ah, no need for that, kid. You can just call me by my name instead. And welcome to our home. You like spaghetti?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Awesome! And I’m certainly not old enough to be a ma’am,” you give him a wink. You set up a pot to boil the water for the pasta. Laszlo excused himself to spend some time with Sophia, leaving you and Stevie in the kitchen.

He clears his throat behind you. “Would um… is there anything I can do to help?”

"I would love that, thank you."

The two of you get to work on making dinner. Stevie doesn’t say too much, but he is very polite and does his best to be useful. Once the food is nearly finished your family has returned ready to eat. You send Stevie and Sophia to set the table.

“Should I be worried?” you ask Laszlo quietly, watching the doorway the two left through.

“I don’t think so. I just felt that I would rather he have a familiar face to adjust with instead of being placed in a group home like many end up.”

You study his face. “You’ve taken a liking to him haven’t you?”

“Well…" his face reddens at your question. "He reminds me a bit of myself when I was his age.” The conversation is cut short by the kids returning.

The rest of dinner and the evening goes smoothly. You make it a point to not bring up any questions that could trigger the teenager, especially before you’ve spoken with Laszlo about the situation at hand. When Stevie nearly eats his weight in pasta you say nothing, wondering how long it's been since he's had a good home cooked meal. He insists on helping clean up the dishes afterwards. Without even knowing what the boy has gone through your heart aches for him.

You set him up in the small renovated basement downstairs while Laszlo puts Sophia to bed. Handing him one of your husband’s old Harvard t-shirts to sleep in you tell him “I’m sorry you’ll be down here by yourself, but if you need us for anything don’t be afraid to come get us - no matter what time it is, okay? And if you get cold there’s an extra blanket right here for you. I know it's July but….” you shrug. “Tomorrow after I get home from work we can go to the store and get you some stuff to use, some more clothes, that kinda thing.”

“Yes ma’am.” At the teasing look you give him his ears burn red with his mumbled “right sorry.”

“Alright Stevie. We’ll see you in the morning, sleep well.”

Laszlo is in bed reading when you enter the room. Nothing is said as you ready yourself for bed. Slipping under the covers you face him. He sighs and closes his book.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call. I became caught up in the day and only arrived home with Stevie maybe half an hour before you did.” He sighs a second time. “Most of the case I cannot talk about, but what I can say is he was living with his mentally ill father, whom was also an addict. He missed the last few weeks of the school year and has been regularly stealing food to get by. He has no other family. I just… it didn’t feel right to let him process his experiences away from someone properly trained to deal with these sorts of things, in addition to how traumatic entering foster care at his age can be. I spoke with those in social services and was granted temporary custody until we find another more permanent solution.”

“Of course.”

He takes hold of your hand. “You aren’t upset with me?”

“I mean it would’ve been nice to have a bit more warning… but I get it. He can stay as long as he needs to. He’s a sweet kid,” you reassure him. “I told him that I would take him shopping after work tomorrow, so if you could pick up Soph from preschool that would be great.”

“Perhaps instead we can all go? I was thinking that I would bring him to the university with me so that he’s not alone all day. You could get her and then we could meet somewhere, get dinner afterwards?”

You lean closer to him to curl around his arm and rest your head on his shoulder. He always thought so much about others, especially children. Laszlo had such a heart of gold and it honestly left you in awe of just how much he was willing to give so that others could find peace and happiness. Like the older he got the more he had to give. The thought warms you. “How are you literally the best person I know? And to think you used to be so worried about being able to be a good father and now you’re the best of all of us.” He huffs a little as you nuzzle into his chest.

“I have you to thank for that, Bärchen.” He drops a kiss to your head. “But it’s getting late and I’ve been up all day. We should get some sleep.”

Soon after you're both dreaming.

___

Stevie had been with you for three weeks. It only took him a few days to start to settle in, and you discovered that he was quick with his wit and far smarter than he let on. He was a little bit of a sarcastic smart-ass at times, but all in good nature. He was endlessly entertaining. Laszlo sat down with him almost everyday to talk about what he was feeling, the things he experienced, and ways to deal with the loss of his family. Already you both saw improvement.

Even Sophia got on well with him. Most teenage boys wanted nothing to do with little kids, let alone a 4 year old that loved playing 'spaceship barbie'. But not Stevie. On his fifth day you'd found him sat on the floor playing with her and going along with her childlike imagination. When she insisted he play the barbie that needed saving he went along with it, high pitched voice and everything. He even encouraged her to pick up her toys before bed - a feat you and your husband struggled with at times. It struck you how much Stevie became a big brother of sorts to her.

Laszlo grew even more fond of the boy. He wasn't really one for TV, but every evening he sat and watched some show on Netflix about racing with the teen and didn't complain once. Laszlo had tried to explain the role of adrenaline in racing drivers as a psychological function, but Stevie just brushed it off and said it was the driving so fast that made it "cool".

The two did bond over an unlikely subject - punk rock. When you got home from work two weeks into his stay and heard the music blasting in the parlor you worried someone had broken in. Whipping into the room you saw Laszlo in his chair tapping his foot to the intense guitar and singing; Stevie nodded along to the music as he held an old album cover. It didn't take long for Sophia to start jumping along to the music too.

"What is this?" You yelled out over the bass - you couldn't recognize it and it clearly wasn't English.

"Die Toten Hosen, a band I listened to growing up in Germany. Stevie found the record and asked to listen."

"Listen? I think you mean blow out your eardrums!" Even with needing to shout to be heard you had to laugh at the situation. How your husband had a secret love for German punk you'll never know; yet you would never let him live it down.

And when Stevie came and woke you both up in tears three nights ago you made him hot chocolate while Laszlo sat down with him. He confessed that he had never been treated or cared for like he was in your home. How he wished he could stay because he felt wanted. Your heart broke for the boy. To be so young and so lost, craving someone to simply be there for him.

Yet everyday he grew more open. He broke out of his shell. He had goals and ambitions; he wanted to amount to something bigger than he had thought he ever could. It almost shocked you at how much fire was within him.

At how much he fit in with your little family.

At how it was like he was meant to be there.

___

Laszlo was oddly quiet when you got home. Sophia had run off to find Stevie, and you tracked your husband down to his office. He listened as you talked about your day for a good ten minutes; he said almost nothing the whole conversation.

You move closer to him. Placing the back of your hand to his forehead you check to see if he's feverish or sick. He didn't feel warm. "Laz, are you feeling okay?"

He gently pulls your hand down and leaves a kiss on your palm. "The department of social services called this morning to inquire about what we want to do with Stevie. This would be the third time they have asked."

He hadn't mentioned it to you at all that they were calling already. "Okay. What do you think we should do?" You pause for him to continue.

"I told them I would need to speak with you before any further decisions were made regarding him…" His fingers tap against the wood of his desk. "I'm not sure I have an answer for them. Nor for you." He swallows. "I'm afraid of what might become of him should he go into the system. Or that he will not get the support he needs given his past. Any option involving allowing him to stay for a bit longer is a commitment I won't make without your full support, of course. I could never ask that of you." As he speaks you can hear the frustration pouring from him, feel the irritation radiating through the room. "I refuse to give up on him- I- I just don't have the answers on what to do without them hounding me and he deserves better than this, dammit."

"He does… Do you remember on your 50th birthday, what you told me?" Laszlo looks up at you confused. "You said that you had wished you were ten years younger so you had the energy and time to do all of it again. That if you were younger we would've had a whole gaggle of kids - brothers and sisters for Sophia."

"Wishing I was younger doesn't make a difference in helping Stevie-"

"Laszlo - let's adopt him." Your words stop him in his tracks. You had decided not to have any more after your daughter was born. Laszlo was nearing 50 and the pregnancy had been hard on you. But regardless you knew that you both had the means and the love to give another child, probably five or ten more children if you really wanted to. So why not start with one that's already wormed his way in to the family? "I've seen how fond you are of him already. You've taken him under your wing as if he was your own. And how good he is with Sophia? Hell I couldn't ask for a better older sibling for her - and she loves him already. And honestly, Laz, I do too."

"You think we should adopt Stevie?"

"I think we should ask, yeah. He deserves a good home and a strong father figure that's going to put him first. He looks at you like you hung the stars, Laszlo. He needs us, and truthfully I think we need him. So yeah - what's one more added to this little shindig we've got going for us?"

"Have you-"

"-thought it through? Yes. Completely."

You can see the smile he fights to hold back. "We should call tomorrow and see what the protocol is for stating our intent to adopt and getting the paperwork."

"Um…" You shuffle your feet. Nose scrunched, you confess "I may have already called them. On the way from work I asked about what would need to be done if we wanted to pursue that route, but since they already know who we are from you working with them for years it can be fast tracked." You pull him out of his chair to stand before you. "All we have to do is say 'go'."

He has no hesitation.

"Go."

Laszlo doesn't hold back his smile or his laughter as he spins you around his office floor. You're certain your children downstairs can hear your giggles.

Tag list

@hardlyinteresting @lorna-d-m @livvyshmiv @somethingthatsaysbubbles @greeneyedblondie44 @unbeatablecurlgirl @apparrio @marchingicenotes7 @anteroom-of-death @bruhidaniel @lemairepstuff @thehuiabird @zemosimp05 @alindeluce @iamnotthecatladynextdoor @laura-naruto-fan1998 @trelaney @boneheadduluc @i-am-dead-inside-666 @fictionlandslanddreams @that-one-fandom-kid @hb8301 @fandom-princess-forevermore @foggycandywitch @creme-bruhlee @andy-rocks @nonamec0s @everythingbeginsineternity-blog @uncomfortablebagel @rachelicouss @wisia02

#laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo x reader #laszlo kreizler #modern laszlo kreizler #modern!laszlo kreizler #the alienist #the alienist fanfic #the alienist angel of darkness #daniel brühl #daniel bruhl #daniel bruhl laszlo kreizler #daniel brühl laszlo kreizler #daniel bruhl x reader #daniel brühl x reader #daniel bruhl fanfiction #daniel brühl fanfiction #scuttle-buttle #peri psyches #the interpretation of dreams #psychopathia sexualis #cw substance addiction #cw child neglect #cw child abuse #cw pregnancy #cw anxiety #laszlo kreizler fanfic

[dhwty-writes]

On the Benefits of Trancing

This is a bit late, but was in fact written for Day 2 of sgtober, Can't Sleep. It's very fluffy, have fun reading! 

Summary: There are several reasons why Essek prefers trancing over sleeping. Firstly, as difficult as it may be to leave yourself vulnerable for eight hours at a time, he finds it even more challenging to imagine his friends defenceless. Secondly, sleep, inevitably, will give birth to dreams. And no matter if they are foul or fair, they torture him all the same. And lastly, well—.Essek reminisces about the strange habit of sleeping and his even stranger habit of sharing his bed with Caleb whenever he can't sleep.

Warnings: None, as far as I’m aware

Read on AO3

Sleep is a curious thing, Essek muses, that he doesn't understand and hasn't particularly cared for up until this point. It is a childish thing, and wild and vulnerable and oh-so terribly time consuming. Truth be told, for most of his life he has pitied the other races who are forced to bow to the whims of nature in that way.

Like so many things, that changed when he met the Mighty Nein. Well, not when he met them necessarily—back then he may or may not have been quietly plotting their demise for returning his carefully stolen beacons—but certainly when he started travelling with them.

As many aspects of elven cultures are, trancing is a solitary activity, a silent contemplation of one's most private thoughts to better cope with them. Shock and surprise don't even begin to cover his feelings when Caleb first cast his dome and Essek found out that sleeping, as many things for the Mighty Nein, is a rather communal event.

He had eight whole hours to come to terms with those implications—did they not realise what it meant, the trust one had to place in another to sleep in front of them? Did they not care? Or did they, by some miracle, in fact trust him that much?

When he came out of his trance the next morning, he realised some of the members of the Nein had moved during the night, curling closer to and around each other. Cuddling, they called it, and Essek's pity melted away, turning into something more bitter, more poisonous. Envy.

There is something about sitting upright, floating a few inches off the ground while surrounded by people holding each other that can make you feel so incredibly lonely, and that has to say something. Nearly a century of solitude spent between too-large, too-empty towers, too-secretive and too-pious schools, and a too-scheming and too-paranoid court have never left him feeling as isolated and bereft as that morning with the Nein did.

Of course, back then he didn't have the words to describe the feelings swirling in his chest. Nor did he have the words to ask for them to include him in their affections, lest he be presumptuous. That, to quote Caleb Widogast, takes time. Surprisingly little of it, if he is perfectly honest.

A few months down the line, he stopped floating while trancing and when he resurfaced the next morning, he found himself leaning against Fjord, who had taken the last watch. When he jerked away in embarrassment, Fjord blinked awake, too, a disgruntled look on his face, growling that he should stop moving around so much.

Despite his shame, Essek complied and held completely still until the rest of the Nein woke up. After that, he began to dabble into the casual intimacy his friends share. He even tried to sleep, occasionally.

In the beginning, he felt very self-conscious about it. He would wake up with messy hair, or drool on his pillow, or, worst of all, tucked close to Caleb. Another effect of the Mighty Nein, though, is that they very quickly rid you of your sense of shame. So, he no longer cares if he looks a mess, if his clothes are rumpled, or if he's getting spit on Veth's backpack. Just the last thing he can't help but feel embarrassed about.

There are several reasons why he still prefers trancing, though. Firstly, as difficult as it may be to leave yourself vulnerable for eight hours at a time, he finds it even more challenging to imagine his friends defenceless. He much prefers being able to watch over them for at least half of that time.

Secondly, sleep, inevitably, will give birth to dreams. And if sleep is childish, wild, and vulnerable, dreams are tenfold so. He often contemplates his crimes during his trances, as well as the discarded timelines, the lost possibilities that could have led to even more death, destruction, and despair. He frequently considers members of the Assembly lording their victory over him, disposing of him, torturing his friends. However, in his trance, he can choose to abandon these timelines. Dreams offer no such luxury. Once in their cruel grasp, you have no choice but to see them through.

Nightmares are one thing, but dreams are another. Even the pleasant ones often come unbidden, worming themselves through his subconscious to pluck out— What exactly Essek should call them, he isn't sure. He wouldn't dare name them wishes or hopes, for that would imply a certain level of possibility for them to come true. These visions are desires, more like, though that term implies a certain passion that does not fit the circumstance.

These unsought fantasies often include the Mighty Nein, years or decades from now. How they would still seek him out, include him in their midst. He dreams of feasts and festivals, of hugs and humour, of truthfulness and trust. And then there are other, even more forbidden dreams featuring him and Caleb. He dreams of soft kisses and gentle caresses, lazy nights spent in the tower reading books, of research and adventures and normalcy, of waking up as close to each other every day as they do from time to time on accident. He would love his future to look like this, but he knows there is a very little chance for that.

So, no matter if the dreams are foul or fair, they torture him all the same.

And lastly, well—

There is a knock on his door and Essek's heart lurches. "Come in," he calls as calmly as he can manage, forcing himself to slowly close the book he hasn't been reading instead of slamming it shut and scrambling to his feet.

The door opens silently, as all doors within the tower do, and Caleb slips inside. He's wearing simple sleeping clothes and Essek silently curses himself for already closing the book, so he can't even pretend to read that instead. "I, ah— I'm sorry for intruding... again," Caleb says, self-consciously tugging at his sleeves. "I hope I didn't wake you?"

"Not at all," he answers, barely keeping himself from saying: 'I was waiting up.' Instead, he opts for: "I was still reading."

"Anything interesting?"

"Are you trying to tell me that you have stored uninteresting books in your mind, Caleb Widogast?"

"Plenty," he deadpans and Essek chuckles.

"It's called The Creation of Silver." He turns the plain cover over to Caleb, to jog his memory. Based on what he could gather by skimming the first pages, it promises to be a rather run of the mill romance novel following the story of a Dwendalian noble trying to escape their arranged marriage. "So far, I find it quite entertaining."

"Ah, yes." Caleb quickly glances away, a faint blush colouring his cheeks. "Have you reached the part where Stefan leaves for the city yet?"

"I have not."

"Then I will not spoil you." Another tug on his sleeve. "The plot really picks up at that point."

Essek tilts his head to the side, studying Caleb. According to the clock in his room, it is past midnight, which is quite late for the human to still be awake. Yet, he is just hovering in his doorway, caught between stepping inside and leaving again. "I presume you did not come here to discuss my evening reading matter."

"Ah..." He tugs at his sleeves again. "No, I did not." As always, Caleb is as incapable of voicing his needs as Essek is.

Thankfully, Essek is not nearly as apprehensive when it comes to his friends' well-being as he is when his own is concerned. "Should you have trouble sleeping, you know you are more than welcome to stay. Seeing as we are to make progress tomorrow, I am very invested in you having a restful night."

Not being able to sleep is another thing about that practice that Essek cannot understand. Trancing is a matter of will, discipline, and tranquillity and he's always assumed sleep to be the same. He supposes it is, to some degree.

But travelling with the Mighty Nein, and Caleb specifically, has taught him that you cannot force sleep. There are circumstances under which they will toss and turn for hours, unable to find rest. Not even Beau's meditation, which he considered relatively close to his trance, seemed capable to calm a disturbed mind enough for sleep.

He has, however, also discovered that for certain members of the Mighty Nein, certain methods will accomplish the necessary peace of mind. Caduceus' tea appears to be able to work miracles, time and time again. Beauregard likes to tire herself out by running drills, while Jester usually draws in her sketchbook. Yasha tends to make flower crowns or, lacking flowers, braid other people's hair. Essek has been subjected to that numerous times so far and despite his aversion to Dynasty braids, he doesn't hate it. Fjord usually ties sailor's knots, and Veth sorts through her various collections.

Caleb, though? Caleb, for some reason, only needs another person to fall asleep next to. And for some reason, despite the numerous options he has, he chooses Essek more often than not. Not that he's complaining, of course. In fact, he may enjoy it a little too much.

Caleb laughs quietly as he often does at their antics. They have long since learned the rules to this strange game they are playing. "Well, if you put it like this..." he says as he rids himself of his slippers���Hausschuhe, he has explained to Essek, a very important part of Zemnian culture—and puts them next to Essek's. "I would hate to disappoint you, Herr Thelyss."

'You couldn't,' he thinks as he pulls back the covers. Instead, he says: "Indeed." As always, he freezes in place when Caleb joins him on the bed, scooting closer until they are nearly touching. Being this close to each other is not getting any less mortifying, no matter how long it has been since Caleb first came knocking on his door.

He still remembers that night in vivid detail. As so often, Essek has been reading and just got up to get a cup of tea. When he stepped out of his rooms, he nearly collided with a wizard who had convinced himself that his suffering wasn’t important enough to trouble him with. “Do you want to come in?” he said to his own surprise. To his even bigger surprise, Caleb accepted.

They sat on Essek’s couch and talked about everything and nothing at once. Hours later, with his throat gone dry, Essek asked: “Shouldn’t you be asleep by now?” The moments the words left his mouth he knew he’d said something wrong.

Caleb shot to his feet as if burned and Essek followed suit. “I am so sorry, friend. I will not continue to disturb you any—”

“Where are you going?” he interrupted him, perhaps a little irritated. “Give me some credit, Caleb Widogast; I am capable of far subtler ways to rid myself of an unwelcome visitor. Which you are not.”

He laughed self-consciously and said: “Regardless, I should go and rest. Schlaf gut, Herr Thelyss.”

“You could stay,” he blurted out before he could stop himself. “I mean—I noticed your sleep to be more restful when you are around others. I am aware that I am not your first choice, but since the others are not here—You’re welcome to stay, if it at all helps.”

Caleb hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“Certainly.”

“In Ordnung,” he answered finally. Essek is still glad he had thought to float for that conversation. That way, at least, his knees didn’t give out.

A short discussion about who should take the bed followed before they stubbornly agreed to share it. Essek came to regret that immediately after when he was confronted with the practical implications of ‘sharing a bed’.

“Make yourself at home,” he said. Caleb took some time to rearrange the pillows and blankets—just like he does now—while Essek hovered nearby. Literally.

It took several reminders from Caleb for Essek to not instinctively recast his floating cantrip, but eventually they managed to lie down next to each other with a minimal amount of awkwardness. They have moved past that initial apprehensiveness by now, Essek thinks while he pretends to read. Shortly after, Caleb flops down, close enough that Essek can feel his breath ghosting over his cheeks.

“Good night, Caleb Widogast,” Essek says, stubbornly staring at the pages and nowhere else. "Do you want me to dim the lights?" He doesn't need them anyways; he just likes to appreciate the room Caleb made for him in all of its colours.

"No, I think I would like to read a bit. I am quite fond of that book."

"You are?" Essek looks down to him in surprise. ‘If Caleb tilts his head,’ the thought hits him, ‘he could rest it on my shoulder.’ He just thought it to be one of the countless books Caleb has read in his life, nothing special. "Why?"

He blushes again. "Ah— I think you'll see. The title is more literal than one would assume."

He considers the book once more, trying to discern what Caleb means with his words. ‘Luxon help me,’ he sends a silent prayer. It wouldn’t be the first time for him to pick up a romance novel that turns out to be quite a bit more explicit than anticipated. To think that such a mistake may have happened to him with Caleb so close—He thinks he might just combust from embarrassment.

"Do you mind flipping the page?" Caleb asks with a yawn, startling Essek out of his thoughts.

"Oh, of course," he says belatedly and turns the page. He hasn't read the last one yet, but nor has he read the one before, so it hardly matters. The novel has a rather shallow plot, so he has no trouble picking it up three pages later, and he's done so by design.

“Thank you.” He yawns again, louder this time and burrows down further into his pillows. “Gute Nacht, mein Schatz,” he mumbles and freezes as if he only now realises what he said. He seems to wait for an answer, but when Essek fails to provide a wrong one, he just smiles up at him and says: “Schlaf wohl und g’sund, bis morgen früh’s Kaffeele kommt.”

“I don’t understand you,” Essek tells him just as quietly, “but you can translate tomorrow.” After a moment of hesitation, he adds in Undercommon: “Sweet dreams, my dear. I’ll be here when you wake up.” He quickly glances back at his book before he can do anything stupid. Such as regret his words. Or kiss him goodnight.

Still, with Caleb reading along he does his best to at least somewhat read the novel. It’s a very flowery language, occasionally dropping Zemnian words Essek doesn’t know. Judging by Caleb’s grumbling at least some of them appear to be wrong. The protagonist, Stefan, seems like quite the bore. He does have a strong motivation, he supposes, to escape from the dreary life that awaits him in his arranged marriage. Besides that, and his general cold-hearted demeanour, he can’t discern any defining characteristics.

He finally reaches the part Caleb asked him about—Stefan leaving for the big city—when another character is introduced, presumably his love interest. He appears to be about as compelling as the protagonist, until— Essek snorts quietly. “Caleb Widogast,” he chides softly, “is this a love story about wizards?”

At first, he doesn’t answer and Essek briefly considers the option of Caleb wilfully ignoring him. Then, there’s a barely audible snore. When he glances down in surprise, the human is leaning against his shoulder, soundly asleep. He noisily chews on a strand of his hair, a bit of drool dripping onto Essek’s shoulder.

For a moment he can’t help but stare, a dopey smile on his face. He quickly arrives at the conclusion that something as disgusting as that has absolutely no business being as endearing as it is. But for some reason he doesn’t mind at all.

Moving carefully and slowly, in order not to disturb Caleb’s sleep, he puts down The Creation of Silver. It is getting rather late and he probably should begin his trance, if he wants to wake before Caleb's inevitable departure.

He leans back, wiggling a bit to find a comfortable position. He thinks he's doing a good job of not rousing Caleb until the human grunts quietly. Essek freezes, fearing he may have woken him, but instead of opening his eyes, Caleb just shifts closer to him, throwing an arm and a leg across his lap to hold him tight.

Essek looks down at his... friend with a fond expression. After a moment of consideration, he reaches down to brush the strand of hair behind his ear.  

Sometimes, he feels like he can barely contain all the love he feels for this man within himself. One day, perhaps, he might even find the courage to tell him so.

Zemnian Translations:

Hausschuhe - slippers. In fact a Very Important German thing. Can't wear your normal shoes indoors, so you need special house shoes. Schlaf gut, Herr Thelyss. - Sleep well, Mister Thelyss. Gute Nacht, mein Schatz. -  Good night, my darling. (lit. treasure) Schlaf wohl und g'sund, bis morgen früh's Kaffeele kommt. - Sleep well and sound until tomorrow morning the little coffee arrives. (My Caleb is Suebian now and I don't take criticism. I was writing this when I suddenly remembered this sentence my parents used to say to me and I thought if my sleep deprived brain remembers things like that, it would only be appropriate if Caleb's did too.)

#critical role #critical role fanfiction #shadowgast #essek thelyss #caleb widogast #the mighty nein #my writing #sgtober2021

[cheri-translates]

[CN] ASMR Transcripts (Victor)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for ASMRs which have not been released in English servers! 🍒

> reliance - 依赖

> warm embrace - 温暖怀抱

> seep into the heart - 沁入心扉

> entwined breaths - 交错呼吸

> pillows and stars - 枕星

> evening affection - 暮夜缱绻

reliance - 依赖

You aren’t sleeping yet?

Didn’t you say you were tired beyond compare?

But what?

If you’re tired, sleep early.

[ footsteps ]

I’ve closed the curtains. Go to sleep.

…what are you muttering about this time.

Hm?

Removing your make-up?

You know that you can’t sleep without removing your make-up, yet you aren’t getting up quickly.

You can’t get up?

….do you think you’re a three-year-old child?

[ Victor carries MC to the bathroom ]

I’m not carrying you? What’s the difference? The result is the same, so the method isn’t important.

…stop fidgeting. If you move again, I’ll put you down.

Your hand… hold on tight.

Mm, this is better.

Okay, get off.

Why aren’t you moving?

Why are you looking at me?

…you want me to help you?

…you’re insatiable.

Tell me, how am I supposed to help you?

Eye and lip makeup remover…

[ sound of bottles ]

On the right side? Oh, found it.

After that? Cotton pad… how much do I pour?

Why are you closing your eyes? You need to close your eyes to apply it?

…of course I know that.

You still have the energy to laugh? Looks like you’re not that tired. Do it yourself then.

All right, close your eyes.

Do I just leave it here and not move?

Thirty seconds? Okay…

You want to me say something? Okay. What do you want to hear?

Dummy… you took too long to think. Thirty seconds is already over.

–

I’m going to start wiping.

Is the strength okay?

Didn’t you say you’d get wrinkles if you wipe too hard?

“Who did you hear that from?” Who else could it be but you?

I wasn’t eavesdropping. You were muttering too loudly as usual.

…Spending your whole day on such meaningless things.

You’ll get them one day anyway.

What’s wrong?

Does it still hurt?

Don’t rub it. Come a little closer…

I’ll wipe it a little.

Does it feel better? …Why did you suddenly widen your eyes?

I call you a dummy, and you really start becoming clumsy.

–

Mm? You’re blaming me?

I’m just telling you the truth.

Everyone will grow old and get wrinkles.

But there’s no need to worry. I’ll grow old together with you.

What’s next…? Makeup remover…

Eh, remember not to open your eyes.

If it gets into your eyes, or if you feel pain, let me know immediately.

Is this all?

Why are you so nervous? Relax.

Sit still…

I’m not a dummy. Even if I don’t know how to use it, I know how to read the instructions.

Does it feel comfortable?

I’m going to wash it off now.

Come a little closer…

Okay, it’d be done soon.

You can sleep soon.

It’d be done in 20 seconds. Mm… if 20 seconds is too long, then 10 seconds.

It’s done.

Go back to sleep.

You don’t want to walk back on your own?

[ Victor lifts her up ]

Next time you want me to carry you, just tell me directly.

We’ve reached. Go to sleep.

You really do what you say, sleeping in a second.

[ Victor kisses MC ]

Rest well. Goodnight.

warm embrace - 温暖怀抱

What’s wrong?

You’re crying?

What happened?

You’re unwilling to tell me? That’s fine.

Remember to tidy up the tissues once you’re done.

The rubbish that you threw, throw it away yourself. Do you have an issue with that?

What’s wrong? No longer crying? Are you done?

If you want to cry, go on.

I will sit here and wait for you to finish crying. I won’t disturb you.

Sure you’re not longer crying?

No longer crying? Then go wash your face.

How long have you been crying alone? What made you cry until like this?

Give me the towel.

What exactly happened? Tell me.

Why are you crying again? You’re not allowed to cry. Your eyes are so swollen, and you’re still crying. Don’t they hurt?

All right, it’s late. Go to sleep. I’ll be with you.

Do your eyes still hurt?

Okay, I’ll massage them.

What shall we eat for breakfast tomorrow?

A few days ago, didn’t you keep bugging me about making you a lemon tart? Do you still want it?

I knew that you’d perk up once I mention food. Crying and then smiling - are you a three-year-old child?

Turn around. Let me look at your eyes. How did you cry yourself into a civet cat?

If your eyes can’t open, go to sleep. I’m turning off the lights.

Why are you hugging me so tightly?

You felt wronged?

I’m not making fun of you. Don’t you love to cry? It’s not like it’s the first time.

Tsk, you bit me? Looks like you haven’t cried enough.

All right, stop playing around. Keep your small sharp teeth away. Be quiet and listen to me.

When you feel wronged, it’s normal to cry. But you can’t just know how to cry. When it comes to trivial problems, and the initial emotions have passed, you need to let it go. Don’t keep turning it over and over in your head. Only when you’ve calmed down can you find a solution to the problem.

Not making a sound – You don’t like hearing these things?

All right, I won’t talk about these principles.

Looking at how silly you are, of course you’d be knocked down by a small problem.

What’s wrong? Not acknowledging that you’re foolish?

I know what you’re crying about. But you must know that there are a lot of circumstances in the world that are out of our control. The causes and reasons behind every circumstance is complicated.

In a world where it’s impossible to know everything, it’s normal that we experience things we cannot understand and find difficult to accept. Even so, we have to accept it.

There are many ways to accept it. Crying is also one of them. However, only for one night.

The dummy I know will not be defeated by this small problem.

Don’t rub your eyes. When you wake up, your eyes wouldn’t be painful anymore.

[ Victor kisses MC ]

Sleep. Everything will be okay.

seep into the heart - 沁入心扉

Why did you only turn the night light on?

What?

[ sound of footsteps ]

Have you been waiting on the carpet until now?

You specially waited for me.

All right, I’ll sit nearer.

It’s only fun if I open the present in the dark?

Can’t you have a change of pattern?

Hm? I can only open half of it first?

Tell me. You gave me a gift, so why do I have guess first?

You’re insatiable.

Fine.

It seems heavy.

Is it a pillow?

I’m wrong?

Hm. Let me feel it a little more.

Why does it feel cooling?

I haven’t guessed it yet.

Give me a hint.

I can open another quarter? You’re really…

So what’s this saying?

Come closer.

Help me press it.

[ sound of the gift being opened ]

This is… a cooling pillow? Or a cushion?

I’m still wrong?

It’s too dark. I can’t see.

When do you plan to disclose the answer?

[ rustling and footsteps ]

I already guessed it and you still said I was wrong.

I think you’re getting bolder.

Why did you think of giving me a cooling cushion?

Because the weather is hot?

Mm. I have been sitting in front of the computer for long durations recently.

I need it.

It’s good to be tired.

I will be sure to take rest.

Unlike some dummy, who, in order to give me a present, has already yawned twice

And you still say you’re not tired?

Changing the topic again.

Mm. It is very comfortable. I like it a lot.

However, why were you being mischievous just now?

I’ll give you half a minute to explain.

[ awkward silence ]

What? You can’t craft a reason?

You’re really…

[ rustling sounds. MC starts massaging him? ]

This tactic doesn’t work.

What are you thinking about?

I moved over so you can experience the cushion with me.

[ footsteps ]

Mm.

How is it? Comfortable?

Come up a little.

Come up a little more.

You’re really…

How about now?

[ Victor’s delectable breathing sounds ]

I also find it very comfortable.

You can touch it.

[ TOUCHING SOUNDS ]

Doesn’t your back feel much cooler?

What did you say?

Water bed?

It’d indeed be more comfortable.

The shopping mall nearby has it.

No need to trouble yourself.

If you like it, I’ll buy one for you.

What’s wrong? You’re getting tired?

Then sleep.

Hm? Why are you holding onto my clothes?

You don’t want to sleep?

Then, do you want to have supper?

I brought some small bites back.

You don’t want to eat?

You don’t want to eat or have supper.

Tell me. What exactly are you thinking?

Dummy.

[ Victor kisses MC ]

Were you thinking about this?

Mm.

[ Victor kisses MC ]

Dummy.

Close your eyes.

entwined breaths - 交错呼吸

You can fall asleep while reading a book…

[ Victor flips through the book ]

Hm?

You’re always mumbling in your sleep.

[ Victor flips through the book ]

[ MC wakes up. Rustling of sheets ]

You’re awake?

“Basic Massage Techniques.”

Why are you looking at such a book?

You want to give me a massage?

You’re really putting what you learnt into practice.

Tell me. What do I have to do?

Lie here? Okay.

[ Victor moaning ]

The technique isn’t bad.

But… did I not feed you enough at night?

Use more strength.

Continue.

I won’t interrupt your performance.

[ Victor moaning ]

Over here.

[ Victor moaning ]

It’s fine. It doesn’t hurt.

I’ve been on planes recently, so it’s a little stiff here.

[ Victor moaning ]

All right, that’s enough.

Your hands aren’t tired?

You’ve clearly got enough sleep.

You’re very energetic.

The sofa is so narrow.

You don’t feel uncomfortable?

Come here.

Sit on my lap.

It’s more comfortable than the sofa.

You can continue.

[ Victor moaning ]

Hm? What’s wrong? You’re feeling shy now?

Fine, I won’t stare at you.

What are your hands touching?

My face needs a massage too?

Such strange logic.

When it comes to these things, you’ve really done your research.

[ Victor moaning ]

That’s a good analogy.

If 10 is the full mark, it’d be a 8.5.

You’re unsatisfied with this evaluation?

[ Victor kisses MC ]

Are you satisfied now?

[ Victor moaning ]

No need…

I don’t need a massage there.

[ Victor moaning ]

You’re still not being honest.

[ Victor moaning ]

You’re getting bolder.

What’s wrong? You want to lean against me?

What’s wrong? You’ve sprained your wrist?

You’re really a dummy.

Be good and sit here.

I’ll bring an ice pack over.

Why are you pulling me?

If it isn’t serious, I’ll just press it for you.

Give me your hand.

Wasn’t someone very happy when pinching my face just now?

Now you know what pain is.

How’s this?

Does it hurt?

All right. I’ll be more gentle.

How does it feel now? Does it still hurt?

If it doesn’t hurt, relax a little more.

How about now?

I’ll have to exert some pressure now.

If it hurts, let me know.

Don’t be too nervous.

I know how far to go and when to stop.

Relax.

I wouldn’t do anything to you.

What did you just say?

What do you mean by “9 marks”?

Only higher than you by 0.5?

I think you’re becoming more and more insatiable

Hm?

You know what pain is now?

You said you wanted to help me relax, and yet caused trouble for me again.

You don’t plan to compensate me with something?

I remember what I promised you. I wouldn’t go back on my word.

These are two different things.

Your memory is very good when it comes to these things.

Put the blanket over yourself properly. Wait for a while.

What’s wrong? Have you thought of how you’re going to compensate me?

Let’s hear it.

You’re too soft.

Lean closer.

[ Rustling sounds ]

Even closer. [laughs]

pillows and stars - 枕星

[ Sounds of waves on the shore. MC splashes her feet in the water ]

Do you want to look at the stars or stand around looking silly?

Aren’t you tired from lifting your head?

Come over and lie down.

Are you going to say that before today, you never would have thought Victor would be accompanying you to lie on the beach and watch the stars?

I said it before.

There’s nothing you can’t think about, and there’s nothing I can’t guess.

You’re here to look at the stars. Not to look at me.

Your eyes should be lifted upwards.

[ Victor laughs ]

Are the stars here what you expected?

Me?

I saw the stars frequently when I was small.

On a roof in Èze.

It felt the same as right now.

Not requiring much thought, nor needing to care about how much time has gone by. It’s just that I became too busy later on. Moreover, I can also see the stars from LFG’s roof. Or rather, I need to face even more important things than looking at the stars. [ Victor sighs ] There was indeed a time. When I forgot to lift my head up to have a look. [ Victor sighs ]

Translated by @cheri-translates on Tumblr ( ́・ᴗ・ ` ) When LFG was first established, there were some problems with the way the management was

run.

Every day, there would be a continuous stream of issues.

None of them could be held off to the next day.

I had no choice but to busy myself till late.

And the employees who were waiting for my official replies would also have to wait till late.

It took a long time before LFG could slowly get on the right path.

Saying all this is meant to tell you that I’ve taken the crooked path before.

So you don’t have to feel dejected every time you make a mistake.

Moreover, many things don’t have a right or wrong in the first place.

It’s just that every person has a different way of thinking.

I remember telling you that if you ever feel too fatigued, you can quieten your heart and think - which area did the problem surface from?

After finding it, think of a solution, and arrange a work tempo that belongs to you. Don’t keep getting led by the tempo outside.

Don’t be so quick to retort.

Think first. Give it some thought before doing it.

Even if the final conclusion is that there isn’t space for improvement, at least it’s a conclusion that has gone through contemplation.

When you face the troublesome problem again, you’ll have a more calm attitude. True, this isn’t an ingenious method. It’s just experience.

But you wouldn’t lose out from giving it a try.

At least LFG has been operating quite well till now.

It shows that this method has its merits.

[ Victor takes a deep breath ]

And after that...

You wanted to watch the sunset, then the sea, then the cherry blossoms, then the snow mountain.

You want to do whatever you think of. There isn’t a single moment of tranquilly. For example, right now.

[ Victor takes a deep breath ]

But I agree with your view.

Finding time to relax and take a break is a very important thing.

You’re right.

There’s a need to look upwards sometimes.

[ Victor takes a deep breath ]

I also think the starry sky is beautiful.

Looking at the stars like this makes me feel as though the surrounding clamour doesn’t have anything to do with us.

No matter how important work is, or how tedious life is, they can’t be compared to living this moment seriously.

Mm. Even your silly smile right now - I’ll remember it too.

[ Victor takes a deep breath ]

Are you cold?

Come closer.

[ Rustling sounds as MC shifts closer ]

I asked you to come closer.

I’ll block the wind for you.

I didn’t let you lean your whole body on me. [ Victor grunts ]

Why are you burying your face in my arms?

Are you still looking at the stars?

If you aren’t, I can bring you back.

If there’s something you want to do, say it directly.

I can’t understand the hemming and hawing used specially by dummies. But it’s not that I can’t make a guess.

[ Victor laughs, kisses MC, breathes heavily, and kisses her again ]

What’s so difficult about guessing the thoughts of a dummy?

Turn your face over.

Do you really want to bury your face in the sand and become a turtle?

Close your eyes.

Be obedient.

Close your eyes.

[ Victor takes deep breaths ]

When we left home, didn’t you want me to give you a night you’ll never forget for the rest of your life?

Whatever I promise you, I will always fulfil it. Tonight - I’ll remember it.

[ Victor takes deep breaths ]

You aren’t allowed to forget either.

evening affection - 暮夜缱绻

[ washing sounds + hair dryer blowing ]

Your face is so red.

Are you too warm after the bath?

If you lean over, just lean over.

Where are you putting your hand?

Why is it so fragrant?

Just how many types of body lotions did you apply?

Guess the smell?

Is this a little game before bed?

You were dillydallying in the bathroom for such a long time just to fiddle with this?

Since you don’t feel like sleeping yet,

I’ll satisfy you.

You said it yourself.

If I guess correctly, I’ll naturally claim a prize.

[ ruffling sounds ]

Tell me.

Where do you want me to start?

Okay.

Turn your head over a little.

Ticklish?

I’m not even touching you.

What’s so ticklish?

[ ruffling sounds + sniffing ]

The smell on your neck -

It’s lemon.

I haven’t moved.

Why are you hiding?

Aren’t you tired like this?

If you aren’t comfortable, come over a little.

Lean on me.

[ sniffing ]

There’s a scent of tangerine on your wrist.

Looks like I’ve guessed correctly.

Where’s the next location?

[ sniffing ]

What posture are you going for?

Sit still.

Don’t move.

If the location is wrong, I’m not taking responsibility.

[ sniffing ]

The scent on your waist -

It’s rose.

I can tell that you’re taking the trouble to increase the difficulty level.

But the scent of the rose’s fragrance is very obvious.

It can be identified in a short while.

[ sniffing ]

What?

You feel unaccomplished?

Even lower.

[ sniffing ]

It’s lavender.

[ sniffing ]

The ankles -

It’s grapefruit.

The game is over.

However,

Don’t you think this game was far too easy for me?

You haven’t thought about it yet?

Since the beginning of last week, you’ve been placing different types of body lotion in the bathroom.

Of course I noticed them at a glance.

Dummy.

What are you doing now?

Applying body lotion for me?

I can cooperate with you.

Just treat it as

Me gaining slight interest in this little game before bed.

What’s wrong?

This position isn’t convenient?

Which position do you want me to change to?

Anything is fine,

As long as you find it comfortable.

[ MC applies lotion ]

You’ve got it all over your hands.

Is that much really necessary?

It’s too fragrant.

As expected, it’s a scent only a dummy would like.

Continue.

Are you sure this is the way to apply body lotion?

Doesn’t your hand feel sore like this?

All right.

It’s time for this little game to end.

My favorite scent?

Aren’t you clearest about that?

Hm? Your face is red.

What are you thinking about?

I’m referring to when I hug you.

[kiss] Close your eyes.

Right now,

I should claim my prize.

[lu-undy]

May we have the homeymoon then?

Yis! Here is an idea of the honeymoon! I hope you’ll like it!

"Ah, you are finally awake, good morning, you lazy kangaroo." 

Mundy dragged his feet to the kitchen and dropped himself on the chair next to -

"Oh wait… I still have the ring…" He said, more to himself than to Lucien, staring at his own hand hovering in front of his eyes. The feeling of the silver ring between his fingers was still new.

"Oui, you are supposed to keep it for as long as we are both breathing on this Earth, you know?" Lucien joked as he poured the coffee for Mundy. 

"Wait… We're really married?" 

"I really hope you were fully aware and convinced when you said 'Je le veux' yesterday…" Lucien teased.

[I do.]

"Oh, love!"

"Oof-Mundy!"

Mundy had pulled Lucien off his chair and made him sit on his lap, cuddling him like he would a teddy bear. 

"We're really married!" 

"Oui, oof! Mundy, too strong, too strong!"

"Oh, sorry…" Mundy eased his hug on his now husband. 

"Merci, mon Dieu, your hugs could kill me!"

"I'm sorry, love, I didn't mean to hurt you…" 

Lucien smiled and put his lips on Mundy's, his fingers sliding between his brown locks of hair. Mundy leaned back on his seat completely. 

"Hmmm… I'm the happiest man alive, darl'." 

"We are two." Lucien answered as he laced his arms around Mundy's neck and leaned his head on the Aussie's shoulder.

"So…" Mundy took a sip of his coffee, an arm still around Lucien's waist. "Any plans for today?" 

"As a matter of fact, oui, I do have a plan for today and you are part of it."

"As I should, eh. This ring here says it!"

They exchanged a smile and Lucien grabbed a toast. He spread butter on it and got it close to Mundy's lips. He bit into it enthusiastically.

"Hm-mh!" 

"I guess that was a thanks."

Mundy nodded with a smile.

"Mundy?" 

"Yeah?" He put his mug down for a second. 

"Do you know what comes after a wedding?" 

"Oh yeah, yesterday night was a real treat, love. And it lasted for so long… I think it's the best night I've ever spent with someone, ever."

"Well, first, I indeed hope it was. But that wasn't what I meant, mon amour. What comes after a wedding and the wedding night?" 

"Uuh…" Mundy's eyes shot up as if he was visibly searching through the drawers and cupboards in his head. "Being happy?" 

Lucien chuckled at how clueless his husband was. 

"I meant the honeymoon, mon amour."

"Oh, ah… I see… Wait, so what?" 

"Put your hand in the pocket of my gown." Lucien said and Mundy obeyed. He pulled two plane tickets. 

"What the hell are you doing with those?" 

"I am taking you on a honeymoon. Our honeymoon." 

"What?! Where?!" Mundy tried to open the tickets to see but Lucien stole them off his very fingers. 

"You will see when you arrive there." Lucien answered and as Mundy tried to get his hands on the tickets, he got them further still. "Uh, uh, uh! No need to try. This is a surprise. We are due to leave Paris today, so let's prepare a suitcase and off we go." 

"When is the flight exactly?" 

"In barely enough time for us to make it!" Lucien said, climbing down his husband's lap. "Now, follow me!" 

They got a change and Lucien noticed that Mundy was standing in front of his pile of clothes in the cupboard, doing nothing else but staring and frowning. 

"Something is the matter? We don't have much time, mon amour."

"No I… I just don't know what to wear, I mean, are we going somewhere hot or…?" 

"Put on whatever you would usually." Lucien said.

"Well, that means poloshirt…"

Before they exited the flat, with their suitcase ready, Lucien grabbed Mundy's wrist and pulled. 

"What?" 

"Embrasse-moi."

[Kiss me.]

The next thing he knew, Mundy's lips were pushed by Lucien's but when he withdrew, the Frenchman removed his aviator glasses and replaced them with black ones. He also put a white cane in Mundy's hand and he put earplugs on him. 

"What the hell?!"

Lucien removed one, just for Mundy to hear him. 

"Those aren't sunglasses, I can't even see the tip of my bloody nose with them!" Mundy exclaimed.

"That is the point, I will reveal where we are when we get there, and if you dare even just think about removing those earplugs or the glasses, I swear I will make you eat them all."

"Wait, so I'm blind and deaf until we get there?!"

"Correct." Lucien put the second earplug and guided his husband outside. 

About an hour later, they were both in the airport. Mundy had felt the sun on his skin and the seats of the taxi they went on. But God knew where they were going… Later still, he passed security checks and boarded the plane. Lucien was next to him, he could smell his expensive perfume. Mundy bent on his side, looking for Lucien's ear and whispered.

"Lu'?"

"You are supposed to be deaf and as a consequence, you cannot know how to speak, Mundy." 

"I love you." 

Lucien's eyes snapped wide under the surprise but then, his usual serene smile came back. 

"So do I." 

Mundy heard the muffled noises of the captain of the plane speaking, then the safety instructions. After that, he felt some fabric on his hand, Lucien's jacket no doubt. He was about to put it between his legs but Lucien held it back. Mundy was confused… until he felt his husband's hand slither under the jacket and on Mundy's thigh. They held hands, out of everyone's sight and Mundy blushed under the glasses. Their fingers slid between each other's, and Mundy relaxed. Wherever Lucien was taking him, he had made absolutely sure it would be one hell of a surprise. 

"Lu'?"

"What?"

They whispered again. 

"How long's this gonna take?" 

"We have about eight hours left, here, lean your head on my shoulder and you get some sleep." 

"Eight hours?!" 

"Oui, and don't be so loud, half of the plane is already asleep."

"Bloody hell… Alright, I'll sleep. You wake me up when we get there, eh?" 

"Non, I will go and enjoy my honeymoon with the next kangaroo man I will see." Lucien teased. 

"You…"

"Shh… Now, sleep." 

Mundy leaned his head on Lucien's shoulder and did as he was told. He spent the rest of the flight sleeping as deeply as a log on his husband's shoulder.

"Mundy?" 

Eight hours later, the Aussie opened his eyes before realising that yes, the glasses were still there and he still couldn't see a thing… 

"Are you awake, mon amour?"

"Yeah… Did you sleep?"

"Un peu. Let me guide you out…"

[A bit.]

And then stairs and long walks and lifts, again and again until finally Lucien stopped and Mundy could feel the heat of the air outside of the airport. 

"We out?"

"Oui, we are." Lucien removes Mundy's earplugs. "Mundy?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Do you have any idea where you are?" 

Mundy listened carefully. Cars passing by, buses… He sniffed as it was the last sense he could use. 

"Doesn't smell of the seawater too much, so not somewhere along a coast…"

"Anything else?" 

"It's hotter than Paris so someplace south?"

"Indeed, it is further South from France altogether. Anything else?" 

"No, not really…"

"Mundy, there are two people in front of you. No, don't take your glasses off. Can you guess who came to the airport for you?"

"I don't even know where I am!"

"Fine, give me the cane now. Bien. And now, remove your glasses."

As he did so, Mundy's eyes snapped wide. 

"Bloody hell!"

"Welcome home, son." 

Mundy threw himself in his parents arms under Lucien's loving eyes. 

"Are we in Australia then?" 

"Oui, we are."

"Are we going home?" Mundy asked his parents.

"Well, Micky, your friend here told us you had something to tell us that was very important and that you should be the one deciding if you wanted to go home or stay somewhere else." Mundy's mother explained. She was a short lady, quite old but her face radiated kindness and benevolence at her son. 

"Oh, uh, what d'you want me to tell them, Lu'?" 

"Well, maybe tell them who I am." 

"You organised all this and you didn't tell them?!" 

"Non, I just said I was a dear friend of yours and that we worked together for Mann Co."

"Tell us, Micky." Mundy's father insisted as he put a hand on his son's shoulder. He was old too, which wasn't surprising. But he was tall and thin, and wore a pair of glasses. His hair had almost completely gone off his head and the few locks that remained were grey and white. 

"Well, I don't know how to say this… Mom, Dad, this is Lucien, I call him Lu'. He uh… He and I, we… I mean…"

"Oh my God! Congratulations, Micky!" Mundy's mother came to her son and wrapped her arms around his stomach, her son was so much taller than her!

"What? What is it?" Mundy's father asked. 

"Mike!" Mundy's mother answered. "Look at his hand, haven't you noticed?"

"Oh, bugger!" Mike's eyes went to Mundy's ring finger and it snapped in his head. "Congrats, son! Come here!" The embrace repeated. 

"But wait, Lu', you said you were takin' me to our honeymoon…?"

"It cannot be a honeymoon before you tell your parents about us." Lucien simply answered. "I know they count a lot for you and you have been missing them." 

"Oh, Lord…!" Mundy was panting, still looking keenly at his parents as he had missed them a lot. "But wait, what's the plan now?"

"I have a hotel room booked for us somewhere you will appreciate, but if you want to spend time with your parents first, it is up to you." Lucien said. 

"I'm quite tired actually…" Mundy turned to his parents. "D'you mind if I come and see ya tomorrow or somethin'? I just need a shower and some sleep." 

"Of course not, Micky." Mundy's mother said as she pushed herself to the tip of her toes and stroked his cheek. "You go and get your rest. And if it's your honeymoon, then you should think of you two first."

"And you're here in Australia now, son," Mike added, "so it'll be easy to see each other. Come with the mister tomorrow, we'll have a good chat and I'll ask your mum here to bake us somethin' nice."

"Mike, the doctor said you should watch your sugar…" Mundy's mother said. 

"Caroline, it's not for me, it's for Micky!" Mike winked at his son as if his wife couldn't see him and they all smiled. 

"Right, we'll leave you here. See you…!" Caroline concluded, as she hugged Mundy and Lucien before turning away. Mike shook their hands and left. 

Lucien and Mundy went to get a taxi and were on their way to the hotel Lucien had booked.

"You're a lunatic, Lu', an absolute mad bloke.” Mundy said to his husband.

"I love you too, Micky." Lucien answered, with a smirk. “I didn’t know you had a nickname.”

“Only my parents use it.”

“I shall not use it, don’t worry.”

“You could if you wanted.”

“Non.”

“Why?”

Lucien chuckled before answering. 

"I can't call you the same as your parents do. Besides, I don't like 'Micky'."

"Oh?" Mundy's disappointment was audible. 

"It sounds too English." Lucien added with a wink. 

"Pfff…" Mundy chuckled. 

The taxi stopped and Mundy exited it. He raised his head following the impressive column of glass windows of the building in front of him. 

"Woah… Is that the place?" Mundy's head was still looking up, his jaw open in awe. He removed his glasses as if to see better.

Meanwhile, the taxi driver had given them back their luggage and drove off, leaving the two men on the pavement. 

"Oui. This is the hotel, mon amour, why?" 

"It's bloody massive!"

"It's only the best I could find. Come along." Lucien started moving. 

"Uh-wait, the suitcase!" Mundy said and Lucien chuckled. He got closer to him and took him by the hand. Mundy blushed so hard he felt the sweat drip instantaneously. Lucien wasn't one to care about what people would say around him, the odd looks they would receive.

"Don't be ridiculous, mon chaton. Let's go."

[My kitten]

Mundy entered the hotel confused and dragged by his husband's hand. After stopping at the reception to get their keys, they hopped in a lift. Mundy wanted to talk to Lucien but the hotel employee in his red and golden uniform standing there with them prevented him from doing so. 

A few minutes later, they were finally in their room. 

"Lu'... What the hell is this…?" 

It wasn't a room at all. It was a suite. It was a house. It was a palace. 

"Their best suite." He simply answered with a smirk. 

Mundy took his time looking at every wall, every bit of ceiling and all the furniture. It was all extremely modern and classy. The colours were kept to black and white with touches of grey and beige. 

"Lu', what the hell is this place…?" Mundy repeated going in the bathroom and exiting again. 

Lucien observed him coming and going, a smile on his lips. 

"Mon amour, it will soon be dinner time. Are you hungry?" 

[My love]

"I… I don't know…" Mundy pushed the two doors for the living room and gasped. 

"What the-?!"

Lucien walked behind him and stopped next to him. 

"You like the view? We are on the last floor of the hotel." Lucien took Mundy's hand in his and they walked to the windows. Well, the entire wall on that side was windowed, such that they could enjoy the sight of the entire city in front of them. 

"It's bloody gorgeous…" Mundy put his fingertips on the glass. 

The sky was getting darker but the line at the horizon was still shyly golden. Lucien snuggled against his husband, and Mundy wrapped an arm around him. 

"So, how do you like this surprise trip so far?" Lucien asked. 

"Look luv', it's… It's just wild… It's a lot to take in… Two days ago I was still single. Now I'm married and on the other face of Earth, at the top of the tallest building I've ever been on…"

"You are forgetting the time I took you to dinner in the Tour Eiffel." 

"Ah, was it higher?" 

"Not the restaurant, but when we took the lift and went at the very top, oui, we were higher than this." 

"Ah, I see… But still, it's a lot to take in." 

"May I make a suggestion, to soothe your nerves?" Lucien looked up and Mundy nodded. 

"Yeah, sure." 

"What about a warm bath together?"

Mundy's shoulders sank as even the thought of it made him relax.

"Yeah, that'd be good I think." 

Lucien turned on his heels and a few seconds after, Mundy could hear the water running. 

"Still in front of the window?"

Mundy turned and saw his husband next to him, wearing nothing but a red bath robe. 

"Yeah, I got lost in thought a bit, sorry." 

Lucien smiled. That was always a side of Mundy that he had liked, the daydreamer, the young boy who used to watch the stars at night and grew up to still watch his surroundings with the same innocence, the same naivety.

"Here, go and get yourself comfortable." Lucien handed him his bathrobe. "I'll be in the bath waiting, d'accord?"

[Alright?]

"Right." 

Lucien headed back to the bathroom. The water had risen to a reasonable level. He touched it and the temperature was delicious, if slightly hot, but it would cool down, so that was perfect. The red robe slid to the floor and he slipped in.

Soon, the door opened again. 

"Oh, wow… You can't just prepare a simple bath, can you?" Mundy asked with a smile.

"It is simple. A few candles, bubbles, a few rose petals… What is hard in this? Now please, turn the light off and join me. I have missed you terribly."

Mundy flipped the switch off. 

"You've missed me? I haven't been away for long…" His bathrobe slid down and Mundy almost heard his husband gasp in anticipation. 

"It felt too long. Come here." 

Mundy slipped in the water, delicately breaching through the foam of scented bubbles and sat between his husband's legs, leaning his back on Lucien's chest. 

"Water's hot." He said. 

"Too hot?" 

"Nah, you're too hot, luv'." 

Lucien smirked. 

"So are you… Hmmm…" Lucien purred as he closed his eyes to enjoy the embrace with his husband.

"Lu'?"

"Hm?" 

"Thanks."

"For what?" 

"All this." 

"It's our honeymoon, it's thanks to us that this is happening. Don't thank just me." Lucien answered as his hands slithered around Mundy's torso, hugging him dearly. 

"Hmmm… Still, luv'... You're amazing."

Lucien smiled. He knew he was the type to spoil his lover and it was all the more so true with his now husband. He let his hands roam on Mundy's sides, his chest, through the thick short hairs there, underwater. He felt his chest rise and fall slower and more amply. Mundy took Lucien's left hand and guided it to his mouth. He kissed his knuckles almost reverently, his eyes closed for each little proof of affection. Lucien's head lolled back and rested on the edge of the bath. He was drowning in the delicateness of Mundy's pecks.

"Oh, Mundy…" He cooed.

Mundy slid his strong fingers between Lucien’s and let their hands sink through the bubbles and underwater again. 

"Love, I… Your hands… If you continue…" 

Mundy was struggling to speak. Lucien's right hand was caressing his thighs, his inner thighs, and it tickled him in a way that didn't fail to arouse him. The Frenchman was also lapping gently at Mundy's neck, on the side, and he felt the Aussie clench his hold on his left hand. 

"What will happen if I continue…?" Lucien whispered right in Mundy's ear and left a peck on the shell of his ear. Mundy rasped.

"L-love… You turn me-a-ah..."

Lucien snickered evilly as his hand closed between Mundy's thighs. The Aussie's breath broke out of any sync as he frowned, struggling against a body that started to betray how he craved more of his husband. 

"Let us dry ourselves and move to the bedroom, mon loup…"

[My wolf…]

The Australian night was spent very hotly, sweat dripping off of them as they threw away all the bed covers. The night was hot, they were steaming and they couldn't have dreamt of a better way to spend their honeymoon, clawing into each other's skins.

#tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #sniperspy

[likeshipsonthesea]

post script poetry

okay i’m going to preface this with a lot of rambling so buckle up my dudes

i started this i don’t know how long ago when i saw a post about how fun it would be if dex ended up being the one to wax poetic about nursey and i saw it and thought the only way that would happen would be by accident, like if he was complaining and started getting mushy

so i wrote this. like, half of this. and then tonight i found it and i liked it and finished it. so here you go. and yes, i did this instead of fulfilling the hozier prompts. sorry not sorry?

Hey Lardo,

I attached my schedule for the week of the 15th. Depending on how long you need me, I can also work this week. I know the sculpture doesn’t have to be done until the end of the month, but I also know how you get close to a deadline. Let me know if any of the free times work for you-- if not, we’ll figure something out.

Dex

P.S. I was going to text this, but since I’m typing I might as well tell you that there’s a horrifying new regular at the café. Every time he comes in he orders something so convoluted and complicated that he has to be fucking with me, and the drinks are so damn sweet he must need to see a dentist every weekend. He walks in with this stupid fucking smirk on his face too, like he derives joy from ruining a perfectly nice--okay well not nice but I’m perfectly civil to customers at least-- barista’s day.

He’s come in consistently for three weeks now. Pray for me.

P.P.S. Did I mention that he’s taken to sitting at a table with nothing but his stupid sweet drinks and a journal for hours on end? Sometimes he’ll buy a muffin and try to talk to me, like I’m not fucking working. Asshole.

*~*~*

Hey Lardo,

5 on Wednesday works for me. Should I bring anything aside from the regular tools?

Dex

P.S. It doesn’t matter if he’s attractive but since you asked, yes, but only in the way that statues are attractive. They’re carved and perfected and gorgeous, yeah, but when you look at them you’re admiring it, idolizing it-- your own inferiority is entangled in the attraction.

P.P.S. And no, I’m not telling you his name.

*~*~*

Hey Lardo,

Sorry to hear about the issues with the sculpture. The earliest I can come for emergency repairs would be tomorrow after work. Hope it holds together until then.

Sorry,

Dex

P.S. This seems to be a theme in our emails, but I’m mentioning this only because it literally just happened. The horrible regular was just here in a sweater and jeans. A sweater and jeans. It’s fucking snowing. Below freezing, high teens, stupid kind of cold, and the guy left his jacket home for what? To show the world how pretty he looks in that sweater? The asshole probably looked in the mirror and thought that people noticing how the green in the sweater enhanced the fucking tree top, sea-glass shiny green of his own eyes was more important than not getting frost bite. And he looked so fucking proud of himself too, smiling all big and wide and stupid like his lips weren’t chattering! And then he stayed in the shop forever, obviously, because he can’t go out in the cold wearing nothing and he just sat there and wrote in his stupid journal and looked over at me with his fucking budding-leaves-at-the-beginning-of-spring eyes like he knew how infuriating he was. That kind of stupidity just pisses me off.

*~*~*

Hey Lardo,

Was going through my messages and saw the last thread. How are the repairs holding up?

Dex

P.S. Shut up.

*~*~*

Lardo,

Glad the emergency repairs are holding. The piece looks great so far, I can’t wait to see the finished product at the end of term.

Dex

P.S. I’m not going to fuck an asshole just because he’s pretty.

P.P.S. Don’t bring up the LAX bro.

*~*~*

Hey Lardo,

My phone crapped out in the middle of a shift so I’ll be communicating via email for the next few days. I’ve got a bunch of leftover muffins from work. Want me to drop by the studio on the way home?

Dex

*~*~*

Lardo,

I’ll grab all the banana nut and any double chocolates that look good. See you soon.

Dex

P.S. Just because we’re on email doesn’t mean you have to ask about my horrible regular. But yes, to answer your question, he is still a regular and maybe a little less horrible, thank God.

*~*~*

Lardo,

Okay, I’ll get some blueberry ones for Shitty too.

Dex

P.S. Well, he’s less horrible because his orders-- while still stupidly complicated and overly fucking sweet-- have narrowed down to one of two options, so I know what they are now. When he lists off all of the stupid steps, I can just ignore him and stare at nothing, or how he gestures with his hands when he speaks and barely avoids knocking over the tip jar. I guess it’s nice that he talks with his hands, though, because sometimes when he’s sitting at a table and writing his hands start shaking and I much prefer the gesturing to that.

Also he seems to have decided to wear a coat for the foreseeable future, and even if it’s this deep green pea coat that probably cost more than what I make in a month, it looks good on him-- aesthetics and functionality, at least he’s compromising. It’s like cut or whatever, so you can still see the line of his waist, tight to his chest and everything. And he has a matching beanie that doesn’t seem that warm, but he tugs it down just over the tips of his ears and a few of his curls above his forehead poke out of it, all soft looking and stuff. He still needs gloves though.

But, I guess, overall he’s less horrible.

*~*~*

Lardo,

The sculpture looks great! And with the deadline still a week away you have a bunch of time to do all your last little nit-picky things.

Dex

P.S. Okay reading over that last post-script I do sound a little mushy, but in my defense I was coming off a double shift and I’d had a big deadline for CS the night before and I definitely wasn’t all there. This cannot be held against me.

*~*~*

Lardo,

Just because you put it in the P.S. doesn’t make it okay. I am not In Love with anyone, especially not the guy who writes poetry on the twenties he leaves in the tip jar.

Dex

*~*~*

Lardo,

Why does that matter?

Dex

*~*~*

FINE some of it was other people’s stuff-- I googled it and some were Emily Dickinson I think? Some of the lines didn’t return anything, so I guess they were original? Anyway it doesn’t matter-- he’s defacing money.

Dex

*~*~*

Your idea of romantic is weird.

*~*~*

Hey Lardo,

I can’t get my phone fixed until Sunday, but I wanted to double check that your show is on Saturday at 7:00PM?

Thanks,

Dex

*~*~*

Lardo,

Thanks for clarifying.

Dex

P.S. Actually yeah, I guess there was an update, or whatever.

So he came in with a book last night, late. Not a lot of people come by the cafe at night, obviously, so it was just me and him, and he was there for a while but then we were closing. I went over to tell him we were closing in a few minutes and he asked if I’d sit with him for a few minutes and, well, he’s a nice tipper, so whatever. I did.

And then-- I shit you not-- he started reading me poetry. Actually. Just started reading poetry to me out of nowhere. He’d gesture with his notebook as he did it, his eyes were all lit up like treetops at sunrise or something and his voice just filled up the whole shop, like it was bouncing off the walls and going through me and shit, like he was trying to make me listen in my soul or something. And, like, I’m shit at poetry and I didn’t really get what it was supposed to be, but you know when you hear a song and even without really hearing the lyrics it makes you feel some kind of way? That’s what it did.

Then he stopped reading and asked me what I thought and I couldn’t just say that it made me feel things so I said that the guy in the poem sounded kind of obsessed, and then the guy-- the regular-- laughed, like a full bodied laugh, his eyes crinkled and his shoulders shook and he tucked the notebook against his chest, against his heart, and laughed in public, in front of a stranger, like it wasn’t weird. And you know when something good happens? Something unexpectedly good? Your favorite song comes on the radio or you find a random twenty in your pocket or you catch the sunset on your walk home and its pretty and warm and just makes you smile and think, huh, I’m glad I get to be here for that.

That’s what his laugh felt like. I know it’s fucking sappy but it’s the only way I can come up with to describe it.

Anyway. See you Saturday.

*~*~*

Lardo,

Yeah.

I’m fucked.

Dex

*~*~*

Hey, fuck, I’m so sorry about last night. My phone is still fucked up otherwise I’d call you but your friend-- the one in your painting, Nursey-- he’s my horrible regular.

Small campus, huh?

He was a little drunk-- he kept drinking the champagne for some reason, I think it was to stop his hands shaking, I don’t know-- but I didn’t want to just send him off alone so I helped him back to his dorm and as I was taking off his shoes he kept reciting poetry or whatever and he was drunk, yeah, but he said it so nicely and he kept looking at me with his ridiculous eyes and then he touched my cheek-- like actually fucking caressed my cheek-- and I kissed him.

And I know he was drunk, I tasted the champagne when I kissed him, and I felt horrible and I ran out of his dorm and-- then I fell asleep and woke up and wrote this email.

So, I probably fucked up beyond repair and if you need me I will be kicking myself for the next fifty years. Thanks, goodbye.

Dex

P.S. I forgot to say-- the show looked great. The sculpture, the art, everything. You’re amazing, dude.

*~*~*

Thanks for his number, but I can’t just call the guy out of the blue and say, “Hey, sorry for kissing you when you were all drunk, won’t happen again, please keep tipping me?”

Also, I still don’t have a working phone.

*~*~*

That’ss the problem with falling in love with a stranger, youknow? Like, I never mett the guy really, I just made his stupid sweet coffee drinks and listened to his poetry that one time and stared too much when he talked with his hands and at his stupid eyebrows-- how do eyebrows look soft?? It makes no sense

And he’s beautiful, you know, like can’t stare too long or you’ll go blind, and I felt like he was a good person youknow, an asshole but good, the kind you want. And I could feel it he would probably argue with me over everything but I think I could likee that, like arguing, at least with him, because I know it wouldn’t be out of anger or whatever, he would be coming from a place of understanding or shared values or whatever

and i fucking KNOW that I can’t know all this frm looking at him, but he had his stupidd fucking g journal that he scrippled in all the time and his hadsn were covered in ink with notes to himself and I want to be the person who egts to listen to his poetry at 2 in the morning and watch him ramble about things he loves and tell him how fucking good his writing is because it IS lardo it’s so good, he’s so good, i never spent any of those twenties witb his writing on it i hung them in my dorm isnt’ that fucking stupid god i love him, i love him and I don’t even know him

Love scuks.

P..S yeah, if you couldnt tell, i’m a little drunk. oops

*~*~*

Dear Lardo,

It’s very rude to forward drunken, rambling emails about someone to that someone without the consent of the drunken rambler.

Dex

P.S. Thank you.

#nurseydex #dexnursey #check please #dex #william poindexter #nursey #derek nurse #my writing #sort of fic #ficlet #do i have a tag for non-prose fic? #who knows #anyway enjoy #i very much enjoyed stumbling upon this #and finishign it #i feel like i never finish things sometimes #also if you're wondering the drunk bit was just me typing #and not correcting my typoes #lol

[dirtydobrik]

camera shy - d.d.

plot: you and David are friends and get into a huge fight about you not wanting to be on camera and in his vlog. 

requested: yes, by drawingsupernova ! Could you make an angsty one with an introverted reader where David wants to put her in vlogs and stuff but she doesn't want to then they get in a fight then it has a fluffy ending????

author’s note: hi! this was requested, hopefully it was something similar to what you wanted. again, i’m not the best at writing angst, so sorry in advance!! if you want to send in a request for an imagine about David, send me a message and i will write it

word count: 2,050

masterlist

You and David were alone in his house, a rare occurrence since your friend group was constantly coming over. David was editing the vlog that was supposed to go up tomorrow while you watched reruns of Friends on your laptop, half paying attention while you chatted with David. He was stressed about his vlog, and you told him to take a break and relax, even offering to give him a shoulder massage. But he refused, shaking his head and saying he wanted to finish. You leaned back on the couch, your eyes returning to Friends., glancing over at David every so often to watch him work. He was focused now, his fingered moving rapidly across the keyboard. You heard the same clip replay a few times before he moved on to the next clip then and played them together. It was fascinating watching him work, he was always so focused. He bit his lip and sighed in frustration whenever something didn’t flow.

"Fuck," he yelled a few minutes later, causing you to sit up.

"What's wrong?" you asked, concerned.

"I accidentally wiped the memory card and it had footage that I hadn’t imported yet. I'm screwed. I don't have enough to finish the vlog. And no one is answering me so I don't know if they have anything with me in it that I can use" he groaned, and you frowned.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" you asked, knowing there probably wasn't anything you could do to help at this point.  

"Can I please record a bit with you for the vlog?" David asked, a pout forming on his lips and his eyes widening. He was trying to use the puppy dog face on you, which probably would've worked in any other situation but he knew how strongly you felt about this.  

You shook your head, "You know I don’t want to be on camera."

You loved hanging out with David and his friends, but you made it clear to them that you didn’t want to put in their videos or on any of their social media accounts. You didn't like having the attention on you, and if David put you in his video people would wonder who you were and that was exactly what you didn’t want.

"Come on, please. No one else is around and I only need another 24 seconds for my vlog," he begged.

"David, no," you repeated, and he rolled his eyes.

"What's the point of hanging out with me and my friends if you don't want to be on camera?" he asked, and you weren't sure if he was being serious or trying to make a joke. Either way, his words felt like a slap in the face and you couldn’t believe they had just come out of his mouth.

"Fuck you," you spat.

"What? Come on, I was kidding!"

"It didn't sound like you were, Dave." You could feel your face getting hotter as you tried fighting back tears.

"Of course I was kidding!" he tried to reassure you, but you still didn't believe him. "I'm just stressed about not having footage for my vlog that has to go up tomorrow," he sighed.

"Find something else to film then. You know how I feel about this."

Something in David flipped, you watched as his jaw clenched and his eyes darkened. "This whole act of you being shy and not wanting to be on camera is getting really old. I am sick of having to make sure you aren't in the background of every clip I film, and I'm sure everyone else in the friend group is tired of it, too."

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" you shouted. Your blood was boiling and your eyes stung as you blinked back tears. You stood up from your spot on the couch, ready to leave. "You know I don't like being the center of attention. You don't get to use that against me."

You could not believe David had just said that to you. He knew you didn’t feel comfortable being on camera for his millions of subscribers to see. You didn't let him or any of his friends follow you on any social media because you knew their fans would find out who you were if they all did. You loved your friends, you did. You just didn’t fit into their lifestyle and you weren't quite ready to adapt to it yet.

"Wait, I'm so sorry," David apologized, but you brushed it off.

"I cannot believe that just came out of your mouth. It isn't something to make fun of me for and it sure as hell isn't something for you to make me feel bad about," you yelled, walking towards the front door.

David hopped up, chasing after you. You felt his hand grab your shoulder, bringing you to a halt, as he stepped in front of you, "I'm sorry." His eyes were soft now, and you knew he felt bad.

"David, I don’t care," you sighed, just wanting to leave and go home. You didn't want to fight, but you couldn't forgive him. You just couldn't.

"No, listen to me. Please," David begged, and you let out a long sigh, really not in the mood to listen to him. But your feet didn’t move and you opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came out, so David took it as his cue to talk. "I feel horrible for what I said. I don’t even know why I said it. I know you don’t like being on camera. I know that you're an introvert and I know that it's hard to feel like you fit in with our friend group since we're all always filming. But you need to know that I never want to pressure you into doing something you aren't comfortable with."

"Are you done?" you asked, not impressed by his speech. If he knew everything already, he has no excuse for what he said. He glanced at you, and nodded slowly, waiting for your reaction.

"Okay." was all that you were able to say, as you stepped around him and walked out the front door. He stood frozen for a moment, before running after you again, stopping you before you opened the door to your car. You turned to face him, looking up.

"No, I'm not done," he breathed out, his face close to yours.

"David, there is nothing you can do that will take back what you said," you said, watching as his eyes flickered to your lips for a split second.

"I know. I'm an asshole. I just want you to know that I really am sorry. I'm just really stressed and I need a vlog for tomorrow and no one is around to film with me. And I just, I don’t know. I didn��t mean to make you feel bad. I know you don't like being on camera, I shouldn’t have ever thought it was a good idea to ask. I'm sorry." His words were raw and genuine and honest, and he started choking up as he rambled on.

"David, stop talking," you whispered, cutting him off. He looked at you, confusion splashed across his face.  "I know you're stressed out about your vlog. And I know you're sorry for what you said." You watched a tear roll down his face and pressed your thumb to his cheek to brush it away, not moving your hand after doing so.

You two were face to face, your eyes meeting his before you quickly looked away, shaking that idea out of your head. You had no intention of being anything other than friends with David.

"Come on, let's go finish your vlog," you said with a soft smile, even though you had no clue how you were going to do that. David followed you inside, hoping you could figure out a way to help him. It was already almost 2am, and none of your friends were answering their phones so he would have to wait until the morning to get any footage they had and he wanted to finish the video tonight.

You curled up next to him on the couch, draping a blanket over your legs.

"Do you have any old footage you can use?" you asked.

David shook his head, "I posted a blooper video last week so I don't have anything that hasn’t already been posted."

You thought for a minute, trying to think of something for David to do for his vlog that was possible at 2am.

"What if you go to a fast food place and pay for people in line behind you, or buy a bunch of food and give it away to drunk people at a party?" you suggested.

"That could work," he paused. "Would you hold the camera and film? You don’t have to be in it." You nodded, and five minutes later you were in his Tesla driving through the nearly empty streets of LA.

You stopped at a 24-hour Taco Bell and a McDonald's, ordering a wide range of food, before driving to a club to hand it out.

You sat in the front seat of the car, pointing the camera out the window while David walked up to different people and asked them if they wanted food. Within ten minutes, all of the food was gone, and David returned to the car to watch the footage. He was pleased with how it turned out, and you headed back to his house.

He transferred the footage to his laptop and imported it into iMovie to finish editing. It took him an hour and half to cut it down to 24 seconds, and you had fallen asleep on his shoulder about twenty minutes in.

David lightly shook you awake, and you let out a low groan as you sat up, realizing it was almost 4am. You were planning on spending the night at your place tonight, but that wasn't going to happen now.

"I'm going to bed," David announced, standing up. "You're staying over, right?"

You nodded and lazily held your arms out for him to help you up. Instead, he bent down and told you to wrap your arms around his neck, scooping you into his arms.

"Where do you to sleep?" he asked, not realizing that you had already fallen asleep in his arms.

He carried you into his room, carefully placing you down on his bed. He quickly changed and climbed into bed next to you. You stirred, rolling over to face him and draping your arm over him. He knew you were sleeping and the action wasn't a conscious one, but his breathing still stopped for a moment. He smiled, looking at you sleeping peacefully next to him, and he had the urge to kiss you for the second time tonight.

The next morning, you woke up next to David. You were facing each other, your noses almost touching. You realized that your arm was draped over him, and you quickly pulled it away.

Nothing between you had happened physically, but there was something about last night that changed your relationship. You didn't know what to make of it and you weren't ready to talk about it with him. You rolled over and got out of bed, quietly walking towards his door. But he sat up as you reached for the doorknob, asking where you were going, and practically begging you to come back to bed.

"Come here," he whispered, and you listened. There was something pulling you towards David, and you couldn't resist it.

You sat on the edge of the bed, but he motioned for you to come closer. You were inches from his face now, and it was like this magnetic pull that pushed you closer to him. Your stomach fluttered as David moved one hand to the back of your neck and the other to cup the side of your face. You swallowed, completely aware of what was going to happen next. David leaned forward and you leaned closer to him. It felt like it was happening in slow motion, but your lips finally connected with his.

You pulled away first, and he brushed the hair out of your face. "Wow," you breathed out, before reconnecting your lips.

#david dobrik #david dobrik fanfiction #david dobrik x reader #david dobrik one shot #david dobrik fluff #david dobrik imagine #david dobrik angst #david dobrik fic #david dobrik x you #soft david dobrik

[ververa]

“You are enough”

CHAPTER 2

A few weeks passed. Dr Staple came back to her work. She was pretty busy, so soon she forgot about the weird visit at the Zimmerman’s house. It was of course until one night. Ellie fall asleep in her office – while going through with paper work. At one point her eyes simply closed and she fall into slumber with her head on the desk. That’s when her phone rang.

“It’s Dr Staple” she answered sleepily

“H-hi. Good evening. It’s late. Too late. I shouldn’t… Oh god, I’m sorry”

“Ronnie?” she shifted in her office chair

“Y-yes”

“It’s okay. I’m still working. What’s going on?”

There was a long silence on the other side.

“Did something happened?” continued the psychiatrist

“I- Well, I was just thinking”

“Yes?”

“It would be really nice to have that conversation with you” she paused “If you still want. I mean, cause maybe you changed your mind or something”

“I didn’t. I’m glad you’re calling” she smiled to herself

“R-really?”

“Yes”

“Why?”

“Because as you said, it would be really nice to have that conversation. How does some coffee tomorrow sounds? There is a cafe near the clinic, we can meet there if you want”

“Okay. Great”

“So, I’ll be free about...” she looked at her watch “Let’s say 10am”

“Okay”

“So, see you tomorrow”

“Dr Staple...”

“Yes?”

“Take some rest”

“I will” she smiled “You should too”

“Good night, Dr Staple”

“Good night, Ronnie”

__________________

"Good morning, Mrs Staple"

"It's Miss actually. And indeed, good morning" she smiled friendly leading the girl to the small cafe

They sat at one of the tables next to the huge window – fronting onto the park.

The night before Staple suggested coffee with half a mind to take the conversation elsewhere – namely to her office, but seeing how nervous the younger woman already was, she gave up on the idea.

There weren't that many people at the cafe, so they still could have some privacy and the atmosphere was probably more relaxing than it would be in her office. Ellie examined the girl's features carefully.

Ronnie was definitely paler than during their first meeting. She had a dark circles under her eyes, which even the make up couldn't cover. It was visible that she was stressed out – too stressed. The psychiatrist waited for her to say something, almost afraid that she may run away if she starts the conversation. But Ronnie was only sitting. She wasn't even looking at the other woman.

She wanted to talk – of course, but as she was finally sitting in front of the doctor she didn't even know with what she should start. Ronnie felt as if her mind was speeding and was afraid that it can explode at any time – spilling all the thoughts she buried deep inside. So, she chose to look anywhere, but the woman.

Staple's attention was caught by Ronnie's fingers – drumming on her arm – covered with a long sleeve.

"You're nervous" the doctor stated carefully placing her hand on the girl's

Ronnie looked at the woman – surprised by the sudden touch, which she had to admit was soothing. Ellie's hand was soft and so warm in comparison to the girl's.

"It's okay. We don't have to hurry. I'm hear ready to listen to everything that you want to tell me"

"I'm sorry. I just don't know anything any more... I don't even know what to tell you" she smiled sadly

"Maybe... Let's start with ordering coffee and then we will think, okay?"

Ronnie nodded. After a few more minutes a waiter brought their beverages.

"Did you have breakfast today?" asked Ellie

Ronnie's eyes widened as she looked at the woman.

"Y-yeah"

"You sure? Cause you didn't sound convincing at all" she tried to joke

"I'm... I'm not hungry lately" she said

"So, you don't eat?"

"I do... Just a little bit less than before"

"And how's your mother?"

"She's busy" the girl shrugged

"But you talk with her?"

"God forbid" she rolled her eyes making Ellie smiled

"Tell me what's so wrong with her, then?"

"Everything?" she looked at the woman "She... They simply never really understood me. And I'm tired of proving them my worth"

"You don't have to prove your worth"

"With them I have to. You see, my mother has those ability to push me to the edge"

"Yes. I can say she does"

"We haven't got on well with each other since my 16 birthday" she took a sip of her coffee

"And what happened then?"

"I stopped acting like a good girl"

"So, you're a rebel?"

"Not exactly" she lowered her gaze

"What do you mean, then?"

"That I didn't let them hurt me and that was somehow not fair to them" Ellie looked at her questioningly

"You're very interesting case"

"Thanks"

"Continue please. Can you explain it to me?"

"I'm sorry, doctor, but I don't feel like talking about it. I mean... Not right now"

"Okay. So, maybe let's make another appointment?"

"Whatever. If you still think you're able to help me…"

"Of course I am. I mean I'll do my best as friends do" she winked

"Are you my friend?"

"I hope I am"

_______________

They were supposed to meet next week, but it didn't take that long. Ellie got a phone call from a drunk Ronnie the same evening.

"Where are you?" Staple asked

"At the... I don't know, but they have a lot of vodka and even more" she chuckled to the phone

"Ronnie, listen to me"

"Yeah…?"

"I need you to listen to me very carefully"

"Alright"

"Where are you? You need to send me the address"

"W-why?"

"I'm going to pick you up"

"No, no, no. Doctor... You cannot see me right now"

"And why is that?"

"Because..." she paused "Because you won't want to be my friend after that"

"My god, I can assure you it won't change anything. Now send me the address and I'll be right there"

___________________

"Hey" Ellie sat next to the girl and sighed with relief

She was looking for her for about 15 minutes and seeing all those strange people under the influence of various substances she began to fear for her new patient. It was completely new for her to care for someone, who she didn't really know, like she cared for Ronnie. She wasn't sure how to feel about it, but as she finally found the girl she smiled and came to her.

"Are you okay?"

"I had to take my stuff from the studio" she admitted

"What studio?" Ellie asked a bit confused

"I-I used to be a dancer" she answered "Before all that shit happened…"

"Let's get you to the car and you'll tell me everything, okay?"

"Okay" she tried to stand up but stumbled

"I got you" the psychiatrist hold her up by her forearm "Come on, let me help you" she said placing one of her hands on the girl's lower back to support her

"Thanks, doctor" she said leaning against the woman

"Not for what"

Staple took Ronnie to the car and helped her get into it – careful not to harm her in any way.

"Do you want me to take you home?"

"No!" she almost screamed "I mean... No. Please. Anywhere, but there"

The psychiatrist sighed

"We can go to the atelier I'm using"

"Atelier?"

"Yup. I'm painting…"

"I must admit you're full of surprises Ronnie" she said starting the car

"Probably" she mumbled shifting her position "And I must admit you're different than everyone else"

"What do you mean?"

"You touched me today. You did it twice and I wasn't afraid of you. I wasn't afraid that you'll hurt me like they did"

"Ronnie" she began with a serious tone "What did they do to you?"

There would be a complete silence if it hadn't been for a radio playing at the low volume.

"You can trust me, you know that" she said trying to encourage her to speaking

"I know..." Ronnie took a deep breath "I was a dancer, you know” she started “And my mother wanted me to perform professionally. So, I was dancing since the very young age..." she paused

Ellie took the girl's hand and squeezed it gently in a reassuring manner.

"My mother had those friend. He was a great dancer and after he stopped performing he opened his own school... She took me there... I was 16" she closed her eyes for a while "I wouldn't tell you that probably, but I'm drunk... He was molesting me. And when I finally got the courage to tell Caroline she laughed at me. Can you imagine? She claimed that Oliver's a gay and he would never touch me" a few tears streamed down her cheek

Ellie stopped the car.

"Then I had an accident. I had my leg broken and since then I couldn't perform. And it would be all okay, but I'm a disappointment for my family. I'm not doing what they want me to do and so I'm the world's worst... But why should I apologise to them for being who I am now, when they've never apologised to me for making me this...?"

"Ronney... I'm so sorry"

The girl smiled at the nickname.

"It's okay. You don't have to be sorry"

They came inside a huge, old building.

"It used to be some kind of factory or something, but the owner went bankrupt and had to sold it” Ronnie began to explain “My father bought this building with the aim to establish a new restaurant here, but I liked the place... And he agreed that I can have it. You know, that's the one advantage of having rich parents – sometimes you can have whatever you want" she smiled sadly "Would you like anything to drink, doctor?" she asked unsteadily walking towards the small space resembling a kitchen

"Water, please" she said looking around

Ellie admired all the paintings hanging and laying there with awe. They were very expressive. She could feel all the emotions, which accompanied the artist while painting. And she had to admit it was mostly pain or fear.

"Here you go" Ronnie handed her a glass of water

"Did you paint them?" she gave the younger woman an enquiring look

"I did" she nodded taking a long sip from her own glass

"They're amazing…"

"Thanks"

"Ronney…"

"Yes, doctor?"

"You can call me Ellie if you want to"

"Alright" she smiled shyly

"Let me help you, will you?"

"What do you mean?"

"I have a friend. He's a great therapist…"

"Oh, no, no, no, no, no" she shook her head "I'm not going to talk with any man. I'm not going to talk with anyone about it" she walked into a huge room and turned on the light

Ellie could see even more paintings, but it wasn't important at that moment. The girl – she was. Staple thought to herself that she probably had never felt like that. Suddenly, an unknown and weird need developed in her. She wanted to make that fragile and lost girl to feel safe. She wanted to hold her and protect against everything that could ever hurt her. She felt a strange connection. And each time she was thinking about her the excitement and adrenalin grow in her. There was a weird kind of anticipation for what was to come next and she didn't have enough of that feeling.

“What about me?”

“What?”

“What if it will be me? I’ll be your therapist. I’ll take care of you. I-I can’t promise that everything will be okay… Or that I can fix all your problems, but I can promise you won’t have to face them alone”

"I... I don't know what to say, doc... I mean Ellie"

"Say yes"

"Yes"

Ellie smiled coming closer to her.

"You should take some rest" she tuck a strand of hair behind the girl's ear

"Ellie?"

"Yes?"

"Can you stay here with me?"

"Of course"

"I'll give you some pajama..." she walked towards the wardrobe "Here you go. The bathroom is at the end of the hall"

"Alright" Ellie smiled taking a set of pajama

Staple was back sooner than expected. She entered just in time to see the other woman's naked back. She was so skinny that Ellie could without any problem see her shoulder blades and spine.

"My god, Ronnie..." she sighed

The girl put on the t-shirt and quickly turned back

"Do you have eating disorders?"

"No!"

"But you don't eat. Ronney..."

"Can we just lie down?" she handed the woman two pillows

"Yes. For now, we can. And tomorrow I'll take you for a proper breakfast to help with that hangover"

"I'm not drunk" she stated leading upstairs

"Of course, you're not"

Ronnie turned on the light – which was dimmed upstairs, where the bedroom was supposed to be. Ellie looked around the spacious room. It was too dark to see everything, though she did see the pallet bed. The psychiatrist lay down and let the girl to place her head on her shoulder.

"As I thought" Ronnie hummed "You're far more comfier that those pillows"

Ellie chuckled

"Sleep"

"I'm sleeping, doctor" she smiled cuddling up into the woman's warm body "Can I please hold your hand?"

"Yes"

The psychiatrist let Ronnie hold her hand and after some time she began to caress her knuckles with a thumb. "You smell nice" the girl said nuzzling Ellie's neck

"Thank you" the woman rolled her eyes trying not to laugh at how drunk the girl was

"Do you think we can have some pancakes in the morning?"

"We can have whatever you want, but now sleep"

The girl was silent for a few minutes, making Ellie thought that she finally fall asleep

"Hey, doctor?"

"What is it, Ronney?"

"Thank you. I mean it" she smiled and cuddle up into the woman even more as she drifted off

Ellie wasn't used to sleeping with someone in one bed. She was too preoccupied with her work to have a serious relationship. She was too preoccupied with her work to have a serious relationship. All her relations were usually one night stands – when she was in the mood of course. They most likely left after sex, while she was working until late. And she definitely had never slept with her patient.

And there she was. Laying in bed that wasn't hers. With the girl that she has been knowing for some time, who was her patient. And they didn't even have sex. What exactly went wrong? When did she make a mistake?

The woman shifted, so that she could look at the younger girl. She was in a deep slumber already – holding onto Ellie as if she was afraid the psychiatrist could run away and leave her. She must be crazy to do that.

Sure, it was weird to her. It was something completely new, but felt good. And the girl's warm breath on her neck was so soothing.

She shifted once more to have a better look and froze when the girl moved.

"Where are you going? Are you leaving me?"

"No" she whispered "Shhh. I'm here. Sleep"

Ronnie moved closer to her and buried her face in the crook of the woman's neck. Ellie smiled and carefully embraced the girl

"I'm not going anywhere"

"Good" she said drifting off again

"I'll be here when you wake up" she didn't really know why, but she kissed Ronnie's crown

#dr ellie staple #ellie staple #story #youre enough #my own character

[crazedlunatic]

Dinos and Hoarders

“You can’t leave him home with me! I have three meetings today, a huge trial tomorrow, and arraignment in two days. No, Sarah.”

“I can’t help it. Apparently, they got rid of my assistant—nobody listens when I tell them people steal drugs until a whole freaking bottle goes missing and then they fire the guy. I’m sorry.”

“No. You literally can’t go in. I have to go to the office.”

“He can’t stay by himself, Robbie! He’s seven! If a fifty three year old cannot control a 7 year old, there is a problem.”

“I didn’t say I can’t control him. I can’t control him while doing all of the other stuff that I have to do.”

“You’re a father first!”

“And you’re not a mother first?!”

“I can’t dispense narcotics from my living room! Turn on The Land Before Time and you won’t hear a word from him! God, you’ve been so annoying. Get over the midlife crisis.”

“I’m not having a midlife crisis!”

“If it waddles and quacks like a duck it’s usually a duck, Robbie.”

“Are you pregnant because you’re acting like a bitc— Well, bye then.” Bob scoffed as the door slammed. “Love you too, dear.”

…

“Daddy, if an anthropologist studies humans and the past, does that mean humans and dinosaurs were alive at the same time?”

“I don’t think so.” Bob, who was staring at a paper and squinting, said in an offhand way.

“Because they’d eat the people, right? Charlie said not all dinosaurs eat meat, though. They’re herbitarians.”

“Vegetarian or herbivores.” Bob corrected as Blaine came into the house—without knocking, of course. Anytime he knocked before 9 at night, he’d get a ‘talk’ about it being his house too and that talk just lasted too long.

“I find it hilarious that you made me leave the office to come and help you watch Miles.”

Bob mouthed help me.

“What’s the difference in an herbivore and a vegetarian?” Miles asked after running and hugging Blaine’s leg.

“Humans are vegetarians and herbivores are animals… I think?” Blaine looked confused, scooping Miles up. “I’m sorry you’re sick.”

“But humans are animals too, Blaine!” Miles said energetically. “And I’m not sick! I just have a fever and my head hurts and my tummy and my nose.”

“Uh, yeah, Blaine. He’s not sick.” Bob said and gave Blaine a look—a look of desperation. “Babies are so much easier. Can we trade? Two for one so you’re really saving in the long run.”

“Yeah until they’re 7 and you sell them back?” Blaine laughed.

“Miles will be 14 so I can handle him then.”

“Where’s Kurt?” Miles asked, eyes lighting up.

“Kurt’s Daddy can’t get him out of work and I think Kurt actually likes bossing people around more than he’ll admit.” Blaine booped his nose.

Miles giggled and then turned to face his Bob. “Daddy, Jake said you wanted to have poop thrown at you. Daddy, have you seen a monkey?”

“At least you can get away from the monkeys.” Bob said and then blinked. “Yes, I have seen monkeys. For someone who is sick, you sure do ask a lot of questions.”

“Grandma says I get it from you. She told me you never shut up when you were little and Mommy told me you never shut up now.” Miles rambled as Blaine put his own laptop on their coffee table with the hand that wasn’t holding Miles—since the twins had been born, he did tons of things at once. It was parent multitasking superpowers or something.

Blaine looked surprised at hearing Miles’ statement, seeing as Bob could be talkative but could also go ten minutes without saying anything to someone sitting right next to him.

Then again, nobody made him light up like Sarah so he shouldn’t have been surprised.

And Bob did talk more the longer they’d known each other. It was actually reassuring to hear Bob rushing so many conversations each day but having to literally walk out of Bob’s office sometimes so they could actually work and not talk about… well, everything.

It didn’t happen all the time, of course.

But still.

He wondered what living with Bob and Sarah as parents was like—parents that liked each other, that fought with each other but always made up by bedtime, parents that spent time together willingly, that were affectionate together. Because the only time Blaine’s parents were together was when they needed to look proper in public or when they needed to look like a good family to people that thought they knew the real Andersons.

His parents never argued. Unless it was a family dinner, they usually didn’t even talk.

And they definitely didn’t like each other.

Sometimes Blaine wondered if they ever had.

From what Alex had said, he hadn’t seen them act like a happy couple either.

So… were he and Alex just for show? Accessories to add to the façade?

“Daddy, what’s this one?” Miles pulled himself up on the couch, seating himself between Blaine and Bob.

“Ankylosaurus.” Bob said, barely even having to look at the picture.

“Daddy, it’s Cera from The Land Before Time! Her name is like Mommy’s!” Miles moved his legs up and down excitedly. “Were there dinosaurs in Lion King?”

“I don’t think so.” Bob, who was looking at some paperwork, didn’t look up.

“What’s this one?”

“Two names. Apatosaurus or Brontosaurus.” Bob said after glancing at the page.

“This one?”

“Diplodocus.”

“Daddy, you know everything.” Miles gasped.

“See? Bob knows all.” Blaine gasped too, grinning when Bob sent him a look. “What?”

“Your children will actually think I know all.” Bob sighed.

“But you do.” Blaine scrunched up his nose.

“Aren’t you supposed to be working?”

“Obviously I’m interning again because you’re teaching me about dinosaurs.” Blaine smiled sweetly as Bob glared at him.

“What’s this one?!” Miles asked dramatically, shaking Bob’s arm.

Bob took the book, pointing to pictures as he said, “T Rex, velociraptor, allosaurus, Spinosaurus, deinonychus, carnotaurus, stegosaurus, ankylosaurus, iguanodon, and parasaurolophus.”

Miles clapped his hands and then turned the page. “What about these?”

Bob bent until his head was rested on his knees.

Miles, cute as ever, bent down and patted the back of Bob’s head. “Daddy, it’s okay. I won’t let the dementors get you.”

“The what?!” Bob sat up quickly.

“I dunno. Charlie told me ‘bout them when we watched Harry Potter and they’re sad and mean. But I won’t let them get you ‘cause Daddy should be happy!” Miles forced his way onto Bob’s lap and pressed a loud kiss to his cheek.

“God. I hate that you’re so cute.” Bob wrapped his arms around Miles and kissed the top of his head, prompting loud giggles. He then noticed Blaine actually on his laptop. “Wait… how can you work with him doing this?”

“Uhm, well… I lived with Wes and David for several years. We all three had to learn to block things out. It drives Kurt crazy because he’ll have had a full conversation with me before realizing I didn’t hear a word.” Blaine looked thoughtful. “Although you two are very distracting… Wait. You’ve got five kids. You can ignore everyone in the office with them thinking you’re listening. How can you not ignore your own children?”

“I try but what if I miss something important?” Bob said. “Trust me. I used to ignore them but then Charlie had said something bad and I was like ‘uh huh, that’s great’ and it led to this complete meltdown.”

“What did you say was great?”

“He dropped his grilled cheese but he was so sad and I’ve not been able to tune out a word since.”

“Uh… how old was he?” Blaine asked.

“Four but I still felt horrible.” Bob said as Miles tugged at his arm. “What, son?”

“Brady’s got a boyfriend. Isn’t that silly?”

“Miles… he’s been with the same boy since you were a baby.”

“Is Mommy mad at you?”

“No. Mommy’s just moody.”

“Mommy told Charlie you’re a dick.”

“See? Telling the truth is always a good thing because now I have ammo to make her feel bad. I love having the upper hand.” Bob said cheerfully.

Miles looked at Bob confused, blinking rapidly. He then looked at Blaine.

“I dunno.” Blaine shrugged. “I don’t understand him half of the time either. It may be a midlife crisis.”

“I am not having a midlife crisis! Blaine!” Bob exclaimed. “Miles, I’m going to put on the Land Before Time because Blaine and I have to work.”

“Jurassic Park!”

“No. You cry every time the Dilophosaurus does it’s… thing. Last time Daddy got in trouble.”

“JURRASIC PARKKKK!”

“No.”

Miles pouted and left the living room.

“Should you go get him?”

“Nah. It’ll be fine.” Bob said before there was a loud clang. He then got up and headed towards the kitchen muttering, “Fuck me.”

“Whoops.” Miles said in a meek little voice.

Bob turned back around, carrying Miles into the living room.

“Aren’t you going to clean that up, Daddy?” Miles asked.

“No. This is what I like to call positive reinforcement. She’ll never make me stay home with you again.” Bob sat Miles down between he and Blaine.

“You got in biiiig trouble last time.”

Bob shrugged, turning on the Land Before Time.

Blaine pulled his laptop back onto his lap, looking down. He then reached his hand over, rubbing Miles’ little back when he started to cough.

“I’m going to go clean that. If she is pregnant, she may murder the entire family.” Bob said, mostly to himself, before leaving the room.

“Do you think she is?” Blaine called.

“God, I hope not. I haven’t seen cherry tomatoes yet but you can never be too cautious. Once I had to put a woman in jail who was pregnant and beheaded her husband. Honestly, he kind of deserved it, but… Sarah has a mean side.”

“I want to hear that story.” Blaine said. “The murder one… Sarah would have to have a mean side to put up with you.”

“I take offense to that, Blaine.”

He glanced down, seeing Miles had curled up to him and fallen asleep.

“You really don’t. Like… I’ve seen horrible photos but man. That was pure rage.” Bob came back in. His eyes then widened. “How’d you do that?!”

“Do what?” Blaine looked at him, very confused.

“He’s out.”

“Isn’t he sick?”

“Yes, but he’s a hyper sick person. How did you make him go to sleep?”

“Uhm… he coughed and I… rubbed his back? Then he just cuddled up?”

Bob came and bent, easing Miles up.

Blaine laughed when Miles mumbled something about purple elephants.

“It’s Emily 2.0 with a penis. I swear.” Bob whispered before leaving the room with Miles.

Blaine looked at his laptop, not really paying attention to it, until Bob sat next to him again.

“Well, you can work now.” Blaine said cheerfully.

“Yep… but now I don’t want to.” Bob sighed.

“Great. Me neither.” Blaine shut his laptop.

Bob closed his own and put his stack of papers on the coffee table. “Hoarders?”

“Yes! You’re the only person that will watch it with me!” Blaine said. “Everyone else judges me.”

“Judgement free zone.” Bob said, turning it on. “I’ve watched this with my dad since it first aired on TLC in 2010.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah. I hadn’t seen it in a while when you’d gotten your appendix out and forgot how much I liked it.” Bob nodded.

“Do you not want to watch it?” Blaine asked hesitantly.

Bob gave him a look and pushed the start button, turning the volume up a bit.

Blaine scooted closer, resting his head on Bob’s shoulder.

“I have a feeling this one is going to make me want to puke.” Bob said when they showed a clip of a future scene.

“That means it’s going to be a good episode.” Blaine nodded in agreement.

“Yep. I judge hoarders on a wanting-to-vomit scale. Only one has made me throw up a bit in my mouth… In my defense, I was getting over a stomach bug, though. Wasn’t out wisest decision.” Bob said.

“Yeah. I’m going to need to see that episode, Bob.”

“We’ll check Netflix after this one.”

“Yeah!” Blaine said excitedly.

“Did I tell you that Brady’s boyfriend—partner, sorry— is going to propose this summer?” Bob asked excitedly. “I mean, I know it’s just his first partner but he’s been really good for Brady and I like him a lot.”

“You said yes?”

“I believe my exact words are ‘are you sure you want to do that?’” Bob admitted. “I said yes after, though. They’re a good couple and Brady’s happy so that’s all that matters.”

“You’re such a good dad.” Blaine sat up straight, looking at him.

Bob shrugged a bit.

“No.” Blaine shook his head. “You are. You care about your kids so much and all you want for them is to be happy. That’s just… you’re a really good dad and a good person… and you’re probably one of the few people who doesn’t see that. I’m grateful to have you in my life… because you aren’t even mine, you know… but you also are and it means a lot. You mean a lot to me and I appreciate you.”

Bob opened his mouth to respond as Miles hopped back onto the couch announcing, “I’m uuuuupppp! Ew-y, Daddy. Is that trash?”

“That is called Hoarders, Miles.” Bob turned the TV off and pulled Miles onto his lap, meeting Blaine’s eyes with his own. He then stood. “I think it’s time for some more medicine. Grape or strawberry?”

“Surprise me!” Miles squealed as Bob stood and sat Miles next to Blaine.

Miles cuddled right up to Blaine’s side, giggling when Bob came back in with his medicine.

“You just love Blaine, don’t you?” Bob laughed at Miles, handing him the little cup.

Blaine looked surprised when Miles took the medicine—Scarlett and Oliver had definitely never done that.

They were younger, but still.

He looked surprised again when Bob reached over, ruffling Miles’ hair and then his own.

“So… Jurassic Park?” Bob asked.

Miles shot up, the most adorable grin ever on his face, when Bob went to put the DVD in. “THIS IS THE BEST DAY EVER!”

#wbuct drabble #god i love bob prompts #and just bob really #bob bob bob

[scornedlove]

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chris

Funny how when you want to run into someone, it never happens. Then, the moment you refocus your energy, they’re everywhere you turn. Since Trey and I smoked with Robyn at the festival, I've been running into her everywhere. Once at the grocery store, once at a gas station, and here we were, crossing paths again; this time at Taylor’s gym. I thought being friends would be difficult, but we found our rhythm and boundaries weren’t even an issue. Our run ins no longer felt awkward and since we both had the morning off, we decided to have breakfast together. 

She seemed to glow as she talked about visiting her family recently and all the fun she’d had at crop over. Seeing her smile so bright as she showed me pictures of everyone and all the costumes, made me happy. I was glad she was back to the vibrant Robyn I fell in love with. Since everything seemed easy and natural again, I felt like it was the perfect time to ask her to meet Tae. “I have a question to ask, and I’m not sure how you’re going to respond.” I began, after our omelets were in front of us and our waiter was gone. Her smile dropped and was replaced with uncertainty. She took a deep breath, exhaled, then stared at me as if she were waiting for bad news. “So, I know you won’t be in town for Trey’s wedding, but Tae will be in the city until the day after. The same day you’re supposed to be back, right? I was hoping we could all have breakfast, lunch, or something. I want to introduce you two.” “Why?” she frowned, as she shook her head no. “That‘s completely unnecessary” “Because both of ya’ll are important to me. I haven’t told her that we reconnected, or that we’ve been hanging out, but I don’t want to continue this behind her back.” I explained, hoping she would understand without getting angry. “Chris, I’m going to be honest with you. I want no parts of being friends with your girlfriend, that’s weird as fuck.” “No it’s n-” “Didn’t you say she lives in Texas? Get some time under your belt before I can even take y'all’s relationship serious. Trust me, you gonna fuck it up sooner than you think” she sputtered, before dismissing me with a chuckle.

“I get it, you think I’m foolish for even asking you this”

“You right. I don’t want to see ya’ll together. ”

“It’s not like we’re going to be all over each other in your face. This has been heavy on my heart lately. Can you at least give it a real thought. For me, please?” I begged. “Don’t answer right now, think about it and let me know how you feel next Saturday. Her flight leaves Sunday at 3pm.” “Fine. I’ll think about it” she sighed, rolling her eyes as she tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Thank you, and thanks for agreeing to come as a surprise on Labor Day. I told Mama you couldn’t make it and she was bummed, she’s gonna be so happy to see you. You don’t even have to stay long. I know you’ll be tired from all the traveling, so this means a lot” “Yeah, well I love mama too. If I can make it happen, I will.” We finished eating and I drove her home. She’d found her a nice condo by the beach, which didn’t surprise me. She always loved being near the water. She invited me up, but I decided against it. I was already pushing the limit by hanging out with my ex-fiance. 

The entire week seemed to drag, but Saturday finally arrived. Trey’s bachelor party was last night, so I was a little hung over. He wanted to go strip club hopping, so that’s what we did. His cousin Victor was the designated driver, so we were able to get fucked up without any worries. Now I was hungover and paying the price. 

“Rise and shine!” Tae’s high-pitched voice echoed in my ears. She floated past my bed and opened the curtains, letting the sunlight burn the shit out of my eyes.  “What the fuck” I groaned, throwing a pillow over my face. “It’s already three o’clock. We gotta get going, the wedding starts in a couple hours. So, drink this and take these” she ordered, setting a glass and two pills on my bed stand, then sitting beside me. “Ten more minutes” I pleaded, with my face still in the pillow. “Nope! It’s time to get up.” She ordered, leaning over me to snatch the pillow and getting a feel for my morning wood. He hasn’t been acknowledged in months, so that small amount of attention made him grow even more, and that came with a little pain. “Alright, if you keep leaning over me like that, you’re gonna be mad at me.” I teased, grabbing her waist and pulling her in for a kiss.  “I’m already mad at you. Now get up, or I’ll find my own way to the wedding.” she snapped, pulling away and throwing the pillow back at me before storming out of the room.  “What did I do?” I called out confused. Yeah, I got wasted last night, but I made it back at a decent time, as promised. Tae wasn’t the type of girl to get mad at minor things, so her attitude towards me right now was something I didn’t understand. 

With the help of Tylenol and a bloody mary, I pulled myself together and was wedding ready within thirty minutes. Tae gave me the silent treatment the entire ride, so by the time we arrived, I was just as irritated as she was. 

“I don’t want to bring bad energy to my best friend’s wedding. So, I’m going to ask you one more time, then I’ll leave it alone; Why are you mad at me?” I asked after turning the car off and giving her my undivided attention. “I don’t want to talk about it” she replied, getting out the car. I felt disrespected when she dismissed me by slamming my car door and walking off as though what I had to say next was unimportant. Luckily, I had a half of a blunt in my glove box. So, instead of losing my temper, I sparked up and felt myself calming down with every exhale.

It's official. My boy is a married man. He and Lala are leaving tomorrow for the Bahamas, and I couldn’t be happier for them. I even teared up during my best man speech, something I’ve always considered corny. He was genuinely happy and in love with his bride, it took a lot not to envy their simplicity. Especially when Tae and I were having our first bump in the road. 

I couldn’t help but isolate myself at the reception. I sat at the bar and although it’s been forever, I smoked a cigarette to prepare for whatever was to come next. I couldn’t imagine why Tae was upset and it was all I could think about. Did she somehow find out about me and Robyn reconnecting? Whatever it was, had her pissed off so it had to be serious.

After keeping our distance all night, we were finally leaving together. It surprised me that she didn’t choose to ride with Lexi, since they were joined at the hip all night, but she must've been her excuse to stay preoccupied. We hadn’t even gotten comfortable in the car yet, when I decided we should pick up our conversation where we left off. I didn’t like being on her bad side, so I was ready to clear the air. We were going to talk about this like adults.

“If you don’t tell me what’s wrong, how am I supposed to fix it?” I asked as soon as we pulled out of the parking space.  “I’m feeling good right now. Please don’t kill my vibe” she frowned as she stared out the window.  “Fuck that. We’re grown, we talk about our problems, regardless of how we're feeling”  “Fine you wanna talk? Let’s talk” she huffed, turning to face me. “Just tell me what I did to piss you off”  “You were stupid drunk last nigh-” “So, you’re mad that I got drunk?” “That wasn’t the problem, I’ll show you the problem” she replied, pulling her phone out. She scrolled through it for a minute, then held it up to show me a video she’d recorded. I was sitting on the couch, obviously faded, when the recording began, and when I noticed her recording, I immediately started laughing. 

“You recording me?” I asked with a big grin as I leaned back and pulled my cap forward.  “Yup, this is for when I’m missing you later” she giggled in the background. “I can’t wait to show you how wasted you got when you wake up tomorrow” “My boy is getting married tomorrow! Fuck yeah I’m wasted” I replied as she started getting closer. “I know right. You’re gonna have to start flying out to see me, since I won’t be coming out here as often. I’m gonna miss you so much” “I be missing you too baby. Honestly, I’m just glad you’re in my life. You know I love you” I replied through hazy eyes. “Wait, what did you say?” she squealed excitedly in the background. “I said I love you Robyn” I grinned, oblivious to the fact that I called her my ex’s name. The video went on for another five seconds, in which I appeared to be falling asleep. “You cannot be serious?” I groaned. If it wasn’t one thing, it was another. “I’m sorry baby, but you know I was drunk out of my mind” “A drunk tells no tales” she rolled her eyes and slid her phone back in her purse. I had to admit, if the shoe were on the other foot, I’d be upset too, but I was lost for words. I couldn’t think of anything to say other than sorry and I’d already said that, so we rode in silence the rest of the way home.

For the first time since we met, it was awkward as hell being around Tae. She played with Diamond and said a few words to Anthony, but completely ignored me, until she went to bed. I wasn’t even sure if there was any coming back from that one dumb drunken moment, so I decided to let her sleep on it. Hopefully it’ll blow over by the morning. I spent the rest of the evening staring at the TV, but completely engrossed in my own thoughts until my phone broke my concentration. I was glad for the distraction, but when I saw Robyn’s name, guilt immediately swept over me. I debated on answering, and by the time I decided I would, she had hung up, and a text message popped up a few seconds later. “I actually put some thought into your request…it’s still a no for me. Sorry.” I completely forgot about asking Robyn to meet Tae tomorrow and now, I was glad she decided against it. After last night, nothing positive could come from it, so I silently thanked God and went to sleep. When I woke up the next day, Tae was gone. I tried calling her several times and was sent to voicemail. I sent her a text and when an hour had gone by with no response, I gave in and called Trey. I hated to bother them when they were getting ready for their vacation, but I didn’t know what else to do. “What’s up bro” Trey answered on the second ring. “Can’t win for losing man, I’m always in some shit. Is Lala around?” “What you want with my wife?” he asked playfully, but I was in no mood for games. “I’m looking for Tae bro, has Lala talked to her?” I asked impatiently. I could hear him relay the question, then some mumbling in the background. “Yeah, she talked to her about thirty minutes ago, she was stopping by the house to pick up some stuff she’d left last time. Why, what’s going on?” he asked, now concerned. “What did he do to my friend?” Lala yelled loud enough for me to hear. “Nothing, ya’ll enjoy the Bahamas. I’ll see ya’ll when ya’ll get back” I replied, rushing him off the phone. Now I was irritated. I couldn’t believe the childish way Tae was going about handling our first issue. I fucked up and if she wanted to break things off because of it, I would be fine with that, but I wasn’t going to worry myself over her attitude. I had just gotten out the shower when my phone rang and I just knew it was her finally calling me back, but it was mom.

“Hey Ma, what’s up” I answered, forcing a little ‘cheer’ in my voice. Mama always picked up on negative energy and I didn’t feel like explaining what was going on right now. 

“Did you get the banana bread I left you this morning?”  

“No, I didn’t realize you stopped by” I replied, jumping up to find it. I loved my mom’s baking; she can fix any bad mood. I found it already halfway gone and was pissed that either Anthony or Tae beat me to it.  

“It was before church. I caught Tae as she was on her way out”  

“Oh yeah?”  

“She told me what happened.”  

“She did?”  I quizzed, beating around the bush.

“She sure did. Christopher, are you still in love with Robyn?”  

“Really mom?”  

“I’m just asking. Tae is a great girl, but if you’re in love with Robyn, then you gotta let somebody go”  

“I was drunk ma; it wasn’t that deep. I don’t see why Tae wants to talk to you about it and not me”  

“Just give her some time. She’ll come around and when she does, you gotta be understanding. She must be feeling threatened by the love you still have for Robyn. You can’t fault her for that.”  

“What did you change about this banana bread?” I countered, changing the topic as I devoured my second slice.

“I added cream cheese. I knew you would catch that” she chuckled.

“This is the bomb and I didn’t think it could get any better before. You should make it like this from now on. Do you need anything for tomorrow?” I asked, licking the crumbs from my fingers and going for another slice.

“I have everything covered, but I’ll let you know if I think of something. You watch yourself now, and figure out what you’re gonna do about these women. You can’t keep playing with their hearts. You never know what could trigger them to do something crazy.”

“Mama I’m not playing with Tae, she’s the one being childish about the situation”  

“I said what I said Christopher. Get yourself together.” she instructed before we hung up. I cleaned up around the house, then took Diamond for a walk to take my mind off of Tae. When I got back, Anthony was at the dining room table wolfing down the last of the banana bread and Diamond wasted no time cleaning up the crumbs he’d dropped on the floor.

“This shit right here is bomb as fuck” he exclaimed through full jaws. I was trying my hardest to be cool, but I was pissed. I’m stingy when it comes to mama’s cooking and he should’ve asked before eating my shit.  

“Yeah, I didn’t intend on sharing. I’ll have mama make more next time.”  I shrugged, clenching my jaws.

“My bad bro, I didn’t realize ya mama made this for you. I damn near ate the whole loaf. I was gonna buy you another one...” he offered, his eyes rolling back as he swallowed the last of it.

“I ain’t tripping. Don’t let it happen again tho.” I ordered as I wiped sweat from my brow. I was still recuperating from that hangover, so that walk took a lot from me. 

“What you got up for the day?” I asked, pulling out my tin can of greenery and a stick from the kitchen drawer. I sat down to roll up and Anthony pulled across from me to do the same.

“Not shit. It’s Sunday. You know I don’t do shit on Sunday. What about ya’ll?”

 “Same, not shit. Tae already left, so it’s just me.”  

“Yeah, she told me what you did” he snickered.

“Damn! She’s telling everybody” I shook my head in frustration as I lit the blunt and took a long drag. “Why is she acting like I did the shit on purpose?”  

“That’s women for you. I feel like kicking some ass on the court today. You tryna hoop?” 

“Hell yeah…only if you keep your shirt on.” I teased, passing him the blunt. Every time an attractive woman shows up at the court, he’s ready to start stripping.

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous of my body” he joked taking a hit and passing it back to me. 

“Nah, you be up there flexing for the thotties. Every time I turn around you getting a new number.” 

“Cause I’m a playa”  

“Hey man, you like it, I love it. Just don’t bring em here. I don’t have time for shit to start coming up missing”  

“You don’t gotta worry about that. The only one I bring here is Ryan”  

“Well that’s the homie, so that don’t count”  

“You know, she’s been acting distant lately”  

“Maybe she doesn’t wanna be one of your hoes anymore”  

“Shut up man, I’m serious. We went from kicking it every day to once or twice a week. She gets distant when her period comes, but it’s been three weeks now. The next one is coming up” he frowned, stroking his chin in thought.

“Seriously? I thought you were a playa, but you over here tracking periods and shit. You got it bad and don’t even know it”

“That ain’t it. I know I say some stupid shit sometimes, but I do like having shorty around. She cool peoples”

“Well the good ones don’t stay around when you have a whole line they have to wait in. You might have to start cutting back” I pointed out.

“I don’t know if I’m ready for all that serious relationship shit. That’s why you’re in the predicament you’re in now” he argued, his face twisted with uncertainty.

“It’s a lot that comes with it, that’s for damn sure” I agreed with a nod, although we were both right. Unlike him, I was willing to put forth the effort in being a good boyfriend, but somehow I always managed to fuck up. If being a player were easy, I’d have no problem with doing that, but someone always ends up hurt in that type of situation. That’s not something I’m willing to have on my heart. 

We smoked a couple more before going to the basketball court. It was hot as hell, so we only played three games of one on one and I won two. I felt good and made sure to gloat all the way home. I’d left my phone at home when we went to hoop, but I still didn’t get a call from Tae. I tried her one more time that night, but she sent me to voicemail again. I figured she must’ve found her own way to the airport and made it home already, so I let her be. It was out of my hands. 

#ff #fanfiction #rihanna #RiRi #chris brown #breezy

[axelsagewrites]

Foster Kid PT2*Magnus Bane

A/N: 1st thing 1st, I know I posted pt 1 ages ago. I'm sorry. It was after a comment asking for part 2 I realized how many 1 parters I have. 

So...2nd thing is if there is anything that doesn't have a part 2 or isn't a completed series that you want completed comment the name under this chapter and I'll do them next. 

And thirdly I, for the time, no longer have word meaning no spell check meaning errors. I tried to use Grammarly on tumblr but it isn't great. I also only learned to spell because when I was 14 so I'm sorry for any idiotic mistakes.

Part 1

Masterlist HERE

Wattpad HERE

Magnus X Platonic reader   ----   Mentions of Malec

"Ah shit," Magnus mumbled, looking over the mundane. No serious marks that he could see but that wasn't the issue. What was the high warlock of Brooklyn meant to do with a half-dead mundane who'd already been exposed to the shadoworld? The sound of an alley cat made him jump but also pushed him into action. After all, it could've been a shadowhunter who would assume the worst. Thank the lords for magic, Magnus thought as he summoned a portal. He pulled the mundanes arm around his shoulder and dragged her up. She groaned lightly and her head lolled to the side. It was a pitiful sight. Magnus clicked his fingers to make the bag beside her follow them through the portal. Once home Magnus dragged the mundane to the sofa, clearing his makeup he'd left there off with magic. Chairman meow gave Magnus what he could only assume as a questioning look before walking away. He couldn't be distracted though. The only thing worse than having a half-dead mundane is having its corpse on your couch. They were a teen after all. Someone had to care about them surely. Sun shining across (Y/N)'s face woke her up the next morning. The first thing she felt was confusion as she stared at the chandelier but it didn't last long as an aching pain took over her body. Her limbs felt heavy and her head stuffy. Despite the pain, she propped herself up on her elbows. The blanket that had been over her slipped down. Blanket? She wondered. Looking around the room didn't help her confusion. Elaborately decorated with ornaments that by themselves cost more than her foster parents home. Not to mention antiques carelessly scattered across the place. A meow made her jump. Along with the blanket, she'd accidentally pushed a cat off her stomach. It meowed angrily at her, moving down slightly to lay down on her lap, falling back asleep. "I see you've met chairmen," A voice made her jump. The cat scurried off her lap, sending a quick hiss, before settling on an armchair. "Ignore him, darling. How are you feeling?" "Okay?" It came out as a question. The man came into view and (Y/N) took in his appearance. A tall Asian man dressed in turquoise skinny jeans, black shirt, and more rings than fingers. He had on a better cat eye than she could ever achieve and several earrings on. "Magnus?" "Indeed," He sat on the armrest of the sofa by her feet. (Y/N) sat up, pulling the blanket to cover her "I'm afraid we'll need to check your wounds before you go," "Wounds?" Magnus looked down for a moment "From the monsters," he looked back at her, "the ones that you saw before. Looks like they want a clean job," "Monsters?" she questions. Her brain felt like it was unraveling "Their not real. Thugs killed my parents. Monsters aren't real." "Who said that?" "Miss Claudette. And all my other therapists." Magnus summoned a coffee, knowing this would be a long day. (Y/N) flinched slightly but didn't seem completely shocked, "Well these shrinks would say that. Shadowhunters aren't too keen on mundane relationships," "Shadowhunters?" "This is gonna be a long morning," Magnus muttered. Realising all his plans for the day were now not optional he called to cancel his appointment with the queen. He could extend her life tomorrow anyway. "So shadowhunters are the ones with tats, vampires are very stereotypical but don't sparkle, and wolves run the precinct?" (Y/N) tried to clarify. "Pretty much," Magnus shrugged "The faes are the trickster and the warlocks the queens of the downworld." "Course you'd think that," Magnus shot a fake glare, "What about me? What am I?" Magnus looked the girl over with pursed lips "A headache," he decided. He got up from his spot on the couch and headed to the kitchen "I'm making eggs want any?" "Sure, but-" she jumped off the couch, following him, "what do you mean a headache?" Magnus sighed as he started cracking eggs "I don't know. I'm a warlock, not a psychic. Probably either a mundane with the sight or your mum was friendly with the milkman," (Y/N) glared at Magnus. Her mum was no cheater "All I know is that if you were a downworlder by birth it would've showed by now. Maybe a half but the clave would know and you wouldn't be with mundies. Speaking of which would you like to call anyone?" "No one to call." "Really?" He asked. (Y/N) shrugged "What will your fosters parents say when you don't come home?" "Yay free cheques no kid. Win-win for them." Magnus looked back to the frying pan. Some people. "What's your plan?" "At first it was to crash at a schoolmates house but I'm not even sure where they live. Figured I'd try being homeless. Heard its a great diet," She tried to joke. "I'm not letting you be homeless," he deadpanned. (Y/N) shrugged "Then call it backpacking," Magnus magicked over some plates to serve the egg on "I've got a spare room. If you want you can have it." "I don't want to be a freeloader," She insisted. Magnus handed her the eggs with a smirk "Never said it was free darling. You can have the room if you clean and look after Chairman. After a long day of appointments, I cannot be bothered cleaning the place. Magic or no magic." "So you want me to be a live-in housemaid?" "Sure, call it what you want. If not I'm sure cardboard is a comfy bed. How're the eggs?" "Good," (Y/N) thought about it "Sure. I mean thanks really. I don't get why you're being so nice though," "Treat people with kindness," Magnus shrugged. "Besides I know what its like. Being exposed to the downworld with no clue. Its only right you have someone to help guide you through it." "Thanks. Really. I don't think anyone's ever so nice," Magnus' heart broke a little. All he'd done is give her a job and eggs. "Hey wait?! Isn't treat people with kindness what Harry Styles says?" "Wise man, great body." The full day was spent helping (Y/N) recover and explaining more about the downworld. And shadowhunters. It was still gnawing at Magnus. How would he explain the mundane working for him? With Valentine seemingly coming back and the Lightwoods persistence, how would he hide it? How could he potentially date Alec and harbor (Y/N)? Unless she wasn't mundane. "How would you feel about doing some tests? Finding out what you are possible," Magnus asked while they were flicking through TV channels. "Id love it. Can we? Like is it possible?" Magnus nodded hesitantly "It is but... it is Complicated. If your potential shadow or downworlder side hasn't shown yet then your probably a mix. Which means more intense tests. Mm taking a lot of magic, blood tests, and spells. Maybe a couple rituals here and there. It could take a while but...you'll get your answers." She was silent for a few moments "Do you think it'll help with my parents? Like, find out who they were?" Magnus nodded "Possibly. What do you think?" "Whats with the sudden interest?" She asked "not even an hour ago you were telling me it wasn't that important right now? Whats with the change of heart?" "You remember the shadowhunters?" She nodded "Yeah well they're sticklers for rules. If they find out I'm harboring a mundane they'd send me to the silent city which is a whole other lesson. Plus I'm kinda curious, aren't you?" "First of all, of course, I'm curious. It's my blood. Second of all why would they find out? Do they do house checks or something?" "Only if there something suspicious. But theirs this shadowhunter who might be around sometimes." (Y/N) seemed to realize "Oh! Your dating one of them, I get it." "Not yet. Maybe, probably. I don't know. But for now, you need to lay low." "Okay. I'm down with that," They settled on a channel but neither really cared. It wasn't until "Magnus and shadowhunters sitting in a tree," (Y/N) mumbled with a sly grin. "What have I got myself into?" He muttered. Chairmans meow caught their attention. Magnus picked him up to sit him on his lap but he scurried out of his lap to sit with (Y/N) "Betrayed!" Magnus cried. (Y/N) laughed lightly, petting the cat who purred. It was nice seeing her smile. Not in the way Magnus lit up when Alexander did it. More like...brotherly?...parental? Magnus almost shivered at the idea. Him, a dad?

Part 3

#shadowhunters #shadowhunter smut #shadowhunter cast #shadowhunter ships #shadowhunter imagine #shadowhunters imagine #Magnus Bane #MagnusBane #alec lightwood x magnus bane #magnus x reader #magnus bane x reader #magnus bane imagine #shadowhunter x reader #platonic magnus

[imagine-loki]

Unofferable, Part II

TITLE: Unofferable, Part II

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 1, Partners in Crime AUTHOR: unofferable-fic ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine courting Loki in secret for a number of years. While you’re both more than happy with the arrangement and are genuinely in love, you can never make your relationship public because of your status as a mortal servant.

RATING: M

NOTES/WARNINGS: Angst. Playlist: “Clean Up Woman” — Betty Wright, “Direction” — Mark Kerekes, “Yes!” — Dario Marianelli

For Ellie, life had settled into a delightfully relaxed routine in the last few years. Now at the age of twenty four, she had been Loki’s lover for five secretive but rewarding years. Frigga had withheld their secret and only ever spoke of it to either of them in private, so as far as Asgard was concerned, Ellie and her employer were nothing more than friends. This lifted a heavy weight off both her shoulders and their relationship, and her life on Asgard settled into the happiness she had been waiting for.

Waking up at dawn as per usual, she stretched and forced herself to her feet. She opened up her chamber curtains and gazed through the small window at the gardens below, people beginning to come to life as they got to their duties. With a smile, she got to work. Washing and dressing quickly in her usual working attire, she had a small breakfast consisting of a scone and a piece of fruit. Right on time, she left her chambers and walked to Loki’s door nearby. The Einherjar nodded to her as she knocked on its hard surface.

“Come in,” came Loki’s voice from within, and the sound of his early-morning grogginess had her smirking.

The sight of him sprawled out on his stomach in bed made her laugh. “Good mornin’, Prince Loki.”

“Is it really?” he grumbled, voice muffled in his pillows.

“What’s the matter?” she asked as she pulled open his curtains. “Is it about the meetin’ with your father?” Loki made a sort of grunting noise resembling a ‘yes’ and she went on. “Do you want me to run you a bath?”

Another positive grunt.

As Ellie disappeared into the bathroom, she heard him finally pull himself out of bed. As she was filling the bath with hot water, he appeared in the doorway stark naked and anxiously picking at the palm of his hand. She knew this side of Loki all too well. It only really seemed to appear when he was under Odin’s scrutiny. His mood swings were nothing new to her — they happened on occasion whenever he was blatantly overlooked or not acknowledged by the one whose affection he so desperately wanted. She couldn’t blame him for feeling that way even though he usually hid it quite well. Only she and Frigga ever saw him at his worst, but Ellie did what she could to cheer him up and insist that he was one in a million. It wasn’t entirely surprising that the God of Mischief was more anxious than usual with the announcement of Odin’s next in line so imminent.

“Hey,” she called softly as she got to her feet and approached him. “You okay?”

He shrugged. “I am not exactly looking forward to this gathering.”

“It’ll be okay, I promise. Odin would be mad to overlook you.”

“It is not as though he has been doing that for centuries,” he said bitterly. “It would seem that I can do nothing right, even when Thor is the one who blunders around insisting that the only way to solve his problems is to smash them with his damn hammer.”

While she knew Loki’s bitterness came from intense feelings of envy that had been harboured for most of his life, Ellie couldn’t exactly blame him for it. Living in an elder sibling’s shadow no matter what you tried to do to escape from it seemed difficult, and she could see the toll it took on him firsthand. There were many a night when he would come barrelling into her chambers demanding that she clean his own room, only to pull her into a tight embrace when the door shut behind them and prying eyes where blinded. She was there with whatever he needed. Some nights, he sat in silence and held her close until he fell asleep. Others, he vented to her for hours on end until he tired himself out and she offered whatever advice she had. Sometimes, he simply pulled her to any nearby surface and ravished her until her neck bore marks from his teeth and his back was imprinted with red half-moons from her nails. 

She saw what these meetings and the impending announcement was doing to him and she genuinely feared how he would react if he was simply tossed to the side by his father yet again. Frigga was, as always, a blessing for keeping her son from feeling well and truly ignored. No matter how many times Odin disregarded what Loki had to offer, his mother saw it and embraced it. She offered him council when the Allfather denied it, she made sure to acknowledge her sons with equal praise, and she, like Ellie, reassured the youngest Odinson that he was just as worthy of a throne.

“I’m sure even Odin knows that bein’ quick to anger is not what makes a king,” she said,   with confidence. “Much like what he told you as a child.”

Loki simply shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. “And yet Thor is still favoured above me. I am convinced I must have done some horrible thing to my father in a past life; I cannot think of any reason why I have earned such displeasure from him. I am a Trickster of course, but that hardly makes me worse than Thor…”

“My love,” she murmured, reaching up to gently cup his face in one hand and stilling his anxious fidgeting with the other. “If the Allfather can’t see all that you have to offer, then I fear he may have lost the sight in his one good eye. If there’s one thing that I promise you, it’s that I refuse to let you question your self-worth for more than a moment. I simply won’t allow it.”

His green eyes softened at her words and, with tender care that was usually reserved for her eyes only, he pressed a kiss into the palm of her hand. “You speak of my worth and yet all I realise as you stand before me is how truly lucky I am to have you in my life.”

“And I you. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Even if Father chooses him?” His voice was hesitant and his eyes were shy, almost nervous about her answer. “Even if I am forever sidelined behind Thor?”

“The Allfather himself could forbid me to be near you and I’d sooner tell him to shove his throne up his arse than be parted from you.”

A chuckled escaped him before he spoke. “My, my. What a colourful image, darling.”

“I mean it,” she insisted and placed on hand over his heart. “It doesn’t matter what he says, or what he does, or which son he chooses; you and I will never be torn apart. How could we do that when a part of us lives within the other? Even if he picks Thor, you’ll always be my Loki.”

His own hand covered hers and held it there, the beating of his strong heart thumping through his chest. “How is it that you always know how to calm me?”

“’Cause I love you and it’s part of the job description.” Without any hesitation, she pulled him into a tight hug and relished the feeling of his arms winding around her waist. 

“I love you too.”

His scent enveloped her and put her at ease. She could feel the anxiety slowly seep from his body and disappear. Now perhaps he would feel better seeing his father. She could consider her day a success if she helped him, even if it was just a little bit.

“Would you like me to wash you?” she asked as she went back to the bath and turned off the tap.

“You do not have to do that,” he said with a small frown, watching her like a hawk.

“I’m aware, but I’d like to if you want me to.”

Without another word, he smiled and lowered himself into the warm water — he had never been one for a steaming-hot bath. Cleaning Loki never felt like a chore to her. In fact, she took great pleasure in it. It was something he was hesitant to do at first, but once she explained that she wished to return the gesture when he so gently took care of her after the events on Alfheim, he couldn’t really say no. Now, it was something he loved doing. Anything that reduced his stress-levels was important. He lay in content silence in the water as she cleaned his body  and hair with the utmost care.

It was as he stood from the bath when he spoke again. “I will be requesting your presence for the duration of the day.”

“You want me t’shadow you for the day?” she asked as she handed him his towel.

“Yes, whatever other tasks I had for you can wait until tomorrow. I wish to have you by my side throughout the day in case my father decides to announce his decision.”

“Of course,” she agreed as he patted himself down. “If you need me by your side then that’s where I’ll stay. I’ll go get your clothes ready.”

As she was walking out the door, Loki gently reached out to grab her hand before she could cross the threshold to his bedroom. Turning to look at him in surprise, she wasn’t expecting him to kiss her.

“Thank you,” he said as their lips parted, briefly nuzzling his nose against hers.

“There’s nothin’ to thank me for, Loki.”

With a smile he released her wrist and Ellie got back to helping him ready himself for the day ahead.

* * *

Odin didn’t exactly seem to eager about Loki having Ellie present for their meeting. Not that she particularly cared one way or the other. She had never been Odin’s biggest fan, and he was never hers, so there was an unspoken mutual distrust between them. She wouldn’t go as far to say that they hated each other, but they certainly didn’t like each other. She was quite biased — she couldn’t help but show her favouritism towards Loki when she cared for him so deeply, and she despised seeing Odin disregarded him from time to time. Despite the fact he seemed mildly vexed by her presence, he couldn’t dismiss her because he had to no genuine reason to do so. Loki was perfectly within his right to have her present for it, so he would do as he pleased.

Loki had her stand nearby with a jug of water and some cakes resting on a table top beside her and called upon her to fill his goblet whenever he felt like it. She knew it was mostly just to give him some emotional support — the soul bond meant their connection was stronger when they were nearby, and thus allowed them to help calm each other. So she had no issue with staying close to bring him some ease. As she stated previously, it was part of her job description. As Odin spoke, she could feel the anxiety seeping from her lover, who sat and listened to every word with rapt attention. Thor also gave his father his full attention, knowing that this conversation was a serious one. Both brothers were just as eager to be king, but for different reasons. Neither of them were perfect candidates either, with each having their own flaws and imperfections. Ellie was foolishly hoping that Frigga would perhaps give away some trace as to who was chosen as Odin’s heir, but the Allmother remained completely passive even as she spoke. She couldn’t fault her for that — Frigga had always been a wonderful mother and treated her sons equally, as a good parent should. And, bless her, she had not told anyone of Ellie and Loki’s relationship despite its impracticality and controversy. All she wanted was for them to be happy, so obviously there was no chance she would give any impression as to who Odin had chosen — that is, if he had already. A small anxious part of her really wished he had yet to make a decision, only because she feared what it would do to Loki if he was, once again, overlooked. She would certainly bare witness to his genuine reaction behind closed doors.

Lost in her thoughts, her attention was once again brought back on Odin as his words and tone shifted. “… but this is not the reason I have asked to speak with you today, my sons.”

Ellie’s gaze flitted to the family as they sat at the table. Thor and Loki visibly shifted in their seats. The Allfather and Allmother remained impassive. 

Here we go…

“I have come to a decision as to which of you will become king,” Odin began slowly. “And now that I know, I do not see the need to keep either of you in suspense any longer.” He paused and looked between them. “But, before I share my choice with you, I want you to know that I love you both, and that my decision has been made taking into consideration as to which of you would be best suited in the role. It is for the good of the Nine Realms, but not just Asgard. You would both make excellent kings, but I can only choose one of you.”

Ellie held her breath from her spot and waited.

“It is after much deliberation, that I have chosen Thor to be king.”

Her mouth went dry almost instantly. It took every ounce of strength in her to not hang her head in disappointment. Loki didn’t react — he simply stared between his mother and father as Thor grinned in surprised delight next to him. When Loki turned and smiled at his sibling, Ellie frowned in confusion.

“Congratulations, brother,” the Trickster said, placing his hand on Thor’s shoulder. “You will make a great king.”

“Thank you, Loki,” Thor replied, his voice expressing his delight at hearing the news. “With you at my side, none will dare to test the strength of Asgard!”

The lies slid off Loki’s tongue with ease, as was his way. He had the room fooled, but not Ellie, not with their connection being far greater than anyone realised. She sensed his distress — she could feel its severity with him being so close by. While he sat passive in his seat with his thin lips pulled into a soft smile, she felt his loss and rejection as though it was her own. She desperately wanted to comfort him, to hold him, to tell him that he was loved despite not being chosen. 

“Thor,” Odin began, grabbing their attention once more. “You shall be crowned king in the coming weeks before the people of Asgard. To prepare for your new role, you will attend councils with myself, your mother, and my closest administrators.”

“We are both very proud of you,” Frigga added with a smile. “Of both of you.”

While Ellie knew her words to be true, she noticed that her smile did not reach her eyes. Somehow, this did nothing to put her at ease. Then it hit her; there was more to this encounter. Something else was amiss…

Odin spoke up again, turning his attention to his youngest child. “And as Thor takes on new responsibilities, you will do the same, Loki.”

The latter’s smile faltered slightly at this. “Father?”

“While you may become part of your new king’s council, you must also embrace the path I have chosen for you too. As a prince of Asgard, you will help to repair the still somewhat broken relationship this realm shares with Vanaheim.”

“And how would you have me achieve such a thing?”

“Through marriage.”

The atmosphere in the room instantly changed.

In shock, Ellie foolishly looked at Frigga, but the Allmother only met her gaze for a brief moment. 

Loki sat in dismay, looking between his parents. “M-marriage?”

“Yes, to Lady Sigyn. She has resided in Vanaheim for many years now and has been granted dual citizenship and council with the Vanir for her service. A marriage between you two would help to bring our two realms—”

Ellie couldn’t listen to it; she could not and would not. She didn’t care about Asgard’s relationship with Vanaheim, she didn’t care who this Sigyn was, she didn’t fucking care that Odin was probably well within his right to order this of his son for the good of the realms.

She did not care.

Loki was…everything to her. He was not Odin’s to give away.

She was struggling to not react as the Allfather’s voice and Loki’s protests faded away. Despite trying to keep her composure, he hands shook by her sides, not that it really mattered — none of them took any notice of her as she waged her own war internally. If he was to be wed, what would become of her? What would become of their relationship? The numerous thoughts swimming around her head were making her stomach ache and her legs weak.

“But, Father, with all due respect, I do not wish to wed this woman,” Loki explained, trying to keep his voice level. “I do not even know her.”

“She is a fine goddess,” Odin replied in some poor attempt at reassurance. “Thor is to take on the mantle of king and you must also do your part. After Thor is crowned, she will be brought to Asgard, and after a few weeks you will be wed. Loki, we both know that sometimes we must do things we are not necessarily overly fond of, but this is bigger than you or I. It is to be done for political reasons, but I’m sure you will come to care for Lady Sigyn in time.”

By Odin’s side, Frigga looked displeased with a tightlipped frown on her face. She focused her attention on her youngest son, who was clearly struggling with this new information.

“Why must I marry?” he demanded, losing some of his composure. “What of Thor? He is the one who will need a queen!”

“Leave me out of this,” Thor mumbled, grimacing at the very idea of marriage.

“Thor’s time will come, but he needs to prove himself as king before he is allowed to have a queen.”

“Well I will not marry this woman,” the Trickster spat, shaking his head. “You cannot make me do this. Mother, I—”

“It has already been arranged, so you do not have a choice.”

“Odin,” Frigga cut in gently, trying to ease the growing tension in the room. “If he is particularly abhorred to the idea, then why not reconsider?”

Odin’s voice was short, evidently losing what patience he had left. “There is nothing to reconsider. It does not matter if he detests the woman! It is about time you realised that this world does not revolve around you. This is what it means to be a prince; not everything goes your way, and you will have to do things that you do not want to. There will be no more arguments, no more discussions, that is final.”

The screech of Loki’s chair on the floor as he pushed it back to stand up caused Ellie to wince. Frigga tried to call him back, but he was on his feet and striding out the door in seconds, beckoning Ellie to follow with a snarl. With a swift look at the Queen, Ellie obediently followed her prince out of the room.

She walked with him swiftly as he all but stomped back to his quarters. The silence between them was palpable, but she didn’t dare break it until they were hidden from inquisitive eyes. When they reached the safety of his chambers, he aggressively slammed the door shut behind them, locked it with magic, and began relentlessly pacing up and down in front of the fireplace.

Ellie watched him apprehensively, not knowing what she could say to comfort him or herself for that matter.

“First, he has the audacity to put that fucking oaf on the throne,” he growled, voice laced in malice. “And then he forces me to wed some bitch for the good of Vanaheim? He is barely fit to be king and I am — once again! — shoved to the side! And now, he wants to take you away from me? I will not allow it! He does not get to control me! If he insists on putting Thor on the throne, then he shan’t part us!”

“Loki?” she asked, voice wavering as the hopelessness of the situation finally hit her.  All the years they spent together would be cut short… “What’ll we do?”

He halted his pacing and turned to face her. His eyes were red, expression both worried and angry. Almost instantly, he strode to her and pulled her into a crushing embrace. Her body shook in his arms and she buried her face in his neck, seeking any comfort he could offer. She would also do her best to comfort him considering she was not the only one affected by this new turn of events. Not only would she lose him, but he would lose her.

“I will not let him take you from me,” he insisted, determined despite his shivering form. “Do you hear me? I will not.”

She nodded, inhaling his familiar scent before saying. “I know you won’t, and I won’t be parted from you either, I swear.”

“I do not care what he says. I will not stand for this, nor will I let Thor rule Asgard!”

“Is there anythin’ we can do?” she asked, leaning back so that she could meet his gaze.

He cupped her face gently in his hands and studied her for a moment, green eyes burning into hers as he contemplated their fate. “I will come up with something to stop it, I promise you. My father’s demands mean little to me.”

“But this is serious, Loki. Surely we can’t go against the Allfather’s wishes?” She paused, eyes burning with unshed tears. “Perhaps… Perhaps we could just remain a secret?”

“A secret?” Loki repeated, looking disgusted at the mere thought. “What? And I-I-I marry this wench and sleep with her by my side? And sneak off to meet you in the dead of night, like some common harlot?”

“But it might be our only option—”

“I do not care!” he hissed, tears now freely flowing down his sharp cheeks. “I will not do that to you, I will not wed someone I do not love or want, and I will not brush you off as though you are nothing, Ellie. I will not be brushed off as though I were nothing.”

She hung her head, running her hands up and down his arms. “That’s not what I meant. You’re not nothing.”

“I know, I know, love. But all will be well. I am not going to be with someone I do not care about. I would not expect that of you either.”

“Alright,” she agreed with an uncertain nod. “Then we’ll figure this out together?”

“Yes, together. I will do everything in my power to stop it.”

“Maybe talkin’ to your mother could help? After all, she does approve of our courtship.”

“You are right. I will have a word with her soon. In the meantime, I would ask that you spend the night with me.”

“You don’t need to ask,” she chuckled slightly, pulling his hand to her mouth and gently kissing his wrist. “The Allfather himself couldn’t pull me from this room. I already told you; we’re a team.”

“A team,” he repeated with a sad smile and let his forehead rest against hers. “That we are.”

“What of Thor?” she asked hesitantly. “I know that you’re not okay with his decision.”

He bit his lip at the thought. “I love my brother, you know I do, but he is not fit to be king. He’s reckless and quick to anger. That is not what it means to be a ruler.”

Although she hated to admit it, she agreed that Thor wasn’t a good choice to be king either. The potential was there, but she was uncertain as to whether he would ever grow out of his childish ways. She could see in his shimmering eyes how much this tore Loki apart. This wouldn’t be the end of it. His mood would only get more sour, especially with the added stress of their uncertain future. She genuinely feared what may happen.

“I can’t really fault your logic. Hopefully he realises that soon.”

“If I know my brother, I do not think he will. Alas, I promise I will do everything in my power to stop this.”

“I know you will. All will be well, it has to be.”

To reassure her of his promise, Loki leaned in and captured her lips in a hungry kiss. She didn’t hesitate to deepen it, sliding her arms around his neck and holding on to him with all the strength she possessed. The taste of salt on her tongue and the intensity of his previous words were all she needed to vanquish her fears and doubts.

The lovers were selfish. The good of the realm did not matter.

All Ellie cared about was the rejected prince that she loved so dearly.

#Loki #Lover #Angst #Submitted fic #submission #unofferable-fic #unofferable Part II #Chapter 1

[flowerpowell]

Secrets II (Liam x MC // Drake x MC)

Second part is here! The actual action starts in next chapter (!!), the first two are just to introduce the characters and the background. In other words, don’t get discouraged, it’ll get better!

All rights for characters go to Pixelberry, plot is inspired by Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte, I don’t own these rights either.

Rating: Normal, nothing scandalous

Tagging: @flynnomalleys @boneandfur @choices-sideblog @syltti78 @kickbuttbookworm @client327 @kingliamthirst @walkerduchess @maxattack-powell @lilsouthernsunflower @bizzyschoiches @jared2612 @drakelover78 @confessionsofabrokegirl  @furiousherringoperatortoad @mynameiskaylabella

Of course, all good-looking guys are either freaks, gays or fictional. This one here wasn’t an exception. And he’s probably gonna fire me now, Riley thought as Liam shook her hand.

Instead, he just asked, “So, lady Riley, how do you like my house?” “I’d like it better if I could contact my mother” she murmured. “Oh, of course. You can write her a letter and I’ll make sure it will be delivered first thing in the morning.” He smiled warmly. Okay, he is a 100% freak. Who would be that nice after I’ve insulted him on so many ways. “I...Thank you but, don’t you have a phone here?” Riley asked and Bertrand cleared his throat. “Sir.” she added quickly. Liam looked at her and replied, “No, I’m afraid we don’t have a phone. I’m sorry.”

She looked at him in anticipation. “Yes? Do you want to ask me something?” He asked. Riley hesitated and then blurted out “Aren’t going to fire me, sir?” Liam’s eyes widened, “Fire you? And why would I do that, it is jusy your first day!” “Oh, I thought...Nevermind, I’m good” she smiled, “So where’s your daughter, the one I’m supposed to teach?” Before she even finished her question Bertrand made a facepalm and started silently cursing Maxwell for bringing here “this uneducated, clumsy, ill-mannered woman.” What now? Oh, right. She’s an orphan not his daughter. Riley wanted to facepalm herself now too.

“She is not my daughter, however I do take care of her. And I do hope you will make a wonderful governess.” He said politely. “Yes, I’m sorry. But I actually would like to know more about my duties?” “Of course,” Liam smiled, “but first, there is someone you should  meet,” he took a hand of a young girl still standing with Maxwell and Bertrand. “Her name is Amelia, Amelia this is Riley, your governess.” The girl looked at Riley as she was speaking, “Hi! I’m Riley, it’s nice to meet you!”

Amelia shook her head and replied, “Je ne compreds pas madame, je m’appelle Amelia and je ne parle pas anglais” Oh my gosh, she’s French. I shouldn’t have written I spoke French perfectly when I know only the basics. Riley nervously giggled. She knew she would have to use French but thought she’d just use the internet. And now, without any help she needed to communicate with this little one.

“Um, bonjour? Oui, enchanté! Je suis Riley.” Amelia smiled and shook her hand “Tu parles français, tu parles français! En fin!” she started daning across the room. Liam looked at her and then at Riley with a big smile on his face. “I think she likes you. I’ll put her to bed and tomorrow you’ll start with English for two hours, is that okay?” He asked. “Yeah, sure, totally! I’ve got this.” I’m so screwed.

Liam left the room with Amelia still singing something in French. Bertrand and Maxwell approached her. The younger brother spoke first. “Good job Riley! They both like you!” “Thank you--” she started but Bertrand broke in. “Yes, they like you somehow so please, do not ruin it.” And he left. Maxwell motioned at his brother. “Don’t be disturbed by him, he’s always been that grumpy.” She smiled. At least one person here was normal. “Thanks. I think Bertrand definitely won the award for the grumpiest man I know.” “Yeah, well, you haven’t met Drake yet, he’s even grumpier.” Maxwell laughed.

What is this place? The grumpy land? Maybe the lack of internet has the same effects as the lack of sun and vitamin D? I surely cannot wait to meet another grumpy man.

They say the first night in a new place is always the hardest. Some also say that whatever you dream about the first night will symbolize your stay in that place.

Riley definitely didn’t have the easiest night. She couldn’t fall asleep until two in the morning and then she had nightmares. In the first one she was running away in a blood-stained wedding dress into the woods. In the second, she was trying to rescue Amelia from burning castle but she got lost in the hall and couldn’t find the exit.

When she woke up at half past six, she was more tired than rested. Sleepily, she took a shower and got dressed. Riley took her books, a French dictionary, her little blackboard and went down for breakfast.

When she arrived to the main hall, Maxwell spotted her and friendly waved at her. “Hey Riley! Come join us for breakfast!” Relieved that she doesn’t have to eat alone Riley entered the dining area in the kitchen and said to hi to Maxwell, Bertrand, and a pretty lady sitting by the table and eating something that looked like a mash. She only hoped it wasn’t oatmeal. Riley sat down next to Bertrand, facing Maxwell with the mysterious woman. “Can we get some oatmeal for lady Riley here, please?” Maxwell asked one of the ladies who were preparing food. She nodded at him and brought a bowl full of oddly looking mash. Mmm, yummy. Just what I needed. Maxwell wiped his face and spoke, “Lady Riley, I don’t believe you’ve met my wife, Hana. Hana, this is lady Riley, a new governess to Amelia!” Riley pretended not to hear when Bertrand snorted and instead smiled at Hana. “It’s nice to meet you!” she said, “I haven’t seen many women here.” Hana returned the smile, “Oh, yes, it’s probably because not many people live here anyway.” “Yes, that’s true,” Maxwell added, “Hana and I live in the left wing of the castle, so you can come by anytime you want. And Bertrand lives here, on the first floor, Liam lives here as well, but a little bit higher, and Amelia lives next door. The rest of rooms are either empty or the staff live there. Sometimes they are given to guests when they come. It’s not very often though.” Maxwell explained and she saw Bertrand giving a cold look at his brother, whispering “less talking” to him.

“Maybe I can give a tour later?” Hana proposed. “I would love that, thank you!” Riley answered. Two normal people, it’s getting better!

After this questionable breakfast, which she truly hoped she’d never have to eat again, Riley headed to the “study” room. This time Maxwell drew her a little map of the most important places so she wouldn’t get lost. Amelia was already there and when she saw her teacher approaching she smiled and ran to embrace Riley.

“Mademoiselle Riley!” she greeted her. Oh, that’s gonna be interesting. “Amelia! Comment ça va?” she started. “Excellemment! Je suis super contente parce que tu parles français. Ni personne ici parles français” Amelia’s smile faded.

Great. She just told me how upset she was because no one here spoke French and here I am, just about to tell her the same.

“Amelia...je parle français juste un peu.” Riley admitted that she knew only basics. To her great surprise, Amelia laughed. “Pas de problème Riley! I can parle un peu English” she said. Now, whaat?

“Umm, I thought you didn’t speak English at all? You never spoke it before.” “Oui, vrai, mais there was ni personne I wanted to parle avec. En plus, those people are très ennuyeux. It is fun to watch and écouter while they ne savent pas que je comprends.”

Riley was shocked. This little one was smarter than she looked like. She was using the fact no one knew she understood what they talked about. Maybe Amelia could tell me what’s going on here.

“Amelia,” Riley started, “since you understand those “boring” people, do you maybe know why this place stopped hundreds years ago and have no singal, wi-fi, and hires an outsider because it’s better than a person from here?” Amelia grinned slyly as she spoke, “I know un peu.” Riley opened her mouth to say something but the girl quickly added, “And I might tell you tout je sais, if you gain my trust.”

That was certainly the weirdest class, weirdest kid Riley ever encountered. For two hours, she was trying to teach Amelia what she already knew. The class ended before Riley even realized and she was free for the day. She decided to look for Hana and start the tour around the castle. She lived with Maxwell in left wing and Riley set out in that direction, map in her hand.

Of course, her bad sense of direction led her somewhere else. Those people who built it must have had an amazing time when they built left wing on the actual right side of the castle. Very funny indeed. But she was lost again and somehow ended up in the garden. Riley heard a voice from one of the stables and she decided to ask that person for directions. When she entered she realized the man she heard was actually speaking to a horse.

Well, a person who talks to animals so nicely must be good, right? Besides, he was pretty good looking. At least his back. Very muscular.

“Ekhm,” she cleared her throat and the man turned around to meet her eyes, he had pretty brown eyes and Riley instantly felt drawn to him, “hi, sorry for interrupting but I got lost and I was wondering if you could help me?” “No.” He answered and got back to brushing the horse’s mane.

Okay, that was rude. “Listen, I’m just asking for directions, and you’re working here so you know where’s the left wing.” she was clearly annoyed. The man didn’t even look up, “Look, whoever you are, maybe it’s the best you got lost. You have a chance to escape and never go back.”

Oh man, this man was a freak too. This place is full of handsome freaks. But does that mean it’s--

“Are you Drake?” she asked and he turned to her in surprise. “I am, how do you know? Who are you?” “Maxwell told me there was a man grumpier than Bertrand named Drake and I just figured.” Drake frowned, “And you came here to offend me or?” “I came here for directions,” she stated, “I look for the left wing.” Drake rolled his eyes. “Do you see that fountain there?” he motioned a beautiful fountain that she didn’t notice at first. “turn left, you need to pass the rose aisle and then turn right and you’ll be there.” “Thanks.” she said and left the stable. This guy was weird. Hopefully, she’ll never have to speak to him again.

“You were right,” Riley said to Maxwell when she finally arrived to where he and Hana were living, “Drake is grumpier than Bertrand. And even more rude.” “Ha! Told you so! Although, if you know him better he’s a pretty nice guy.” “I’m not sure I want to get near him anytime soon” she admitted.

“Lady Riley!” Hana appeared in the doorway, “Do you want to have the tour now?” “I do, I still get lost too easily” Riley laughed. “Maxwell, you want to come too?” his wife asked. “I wish, but Liam and I have some matters to discuss. I’ll see you later!” He kissed Hana and headed out.

“What exactly Liam does? Like, what’s his job?” Riley inquired when the two of them were walking towards the main entrance. Hana sighed. “I’m not sure. I don’t really understand what they’re doing, I saw Maxwell helping him with some finances once so I assumed it’s something like that.” “You never asked?” Isn’t that a normal thing to know what your husband does for a living? “I did, but he said it was complicated. Something with business and politics. I really don’t know Riley, I’m sorry.” “Oh, it’s fine, I was just curious.”

The ladies were walking now in silence until Hana broke it. “So here is the main entrance and there,” she motioned to the windows on higher floors, “is your room, a little higher there is Liam’s and Amelia’s right next to him, then down there, is where Bertrand stays, there is where the guests stay, and here,” she pointed her finger to the window they were facing, “is Liam’s study.”

“And where does Drake live? In the stables?” Hana chuckled, “No, he’s occupying the right wing.” Riley frowned. “Alone?” “Right wing is very old and no one really wants to live there. Drake prefers solitude so he picked this place to live in. There are some guards too.”

Guards? Why would they need guards?

“Umm, Hana? Why guards?” Hana’s eyes widened. “I-I don’t know! They just are, you know, it’s a big castle, it’s probably because of burglars.” “Yeah, sure.” Riley wasn’t convinced. She wanted to ask some more questions but the moment they entered the big hall, Liam went out of his study and greeted the ladies. “Lady Hana! Lady Riley! It’s nice to see you both!” He smiled. “How was your class with Amelia?” he asked approaching the ladies.

Hana excused herself and joined Maxwell. “Good, pretty good actually. She’s learing fast. I’m sure she’ll be able to speak perfect English by the end of the summer.” “Oh, that’s wonderful,” he said, “Lady Riley, would like to take a walk with me around the gardens?” I’m not really sure if he’s completely sane. I’ll take my pepper spray just in case. “Sure! I’ll just grab my bag, wait here!” She yelled running up the stairs, not hearing Liam’s laugh. Maybe this will be my chance to learn something more. Maybe he’ll answer me some questions, Riley thought while packing her spray into the bag. She also took her phone, just in case there’s some signal in the gardens. Besides, she can always dial the police’s number. She just wanted to be secure.

Liam was waiting for her in the very spot she left him. When he saw her, he smiled and streched his hand to her. What a gentleman. Riley took his hand and the two of them headed out to the gardens. She was silent at first, trying to come up with appropriate questions.

Before she had a chance to ask anything Liam spoke up. “So, lady Riley, what do you think of my house?” “It’s...okay. Very old, but I guess that’s your style. I love my bedroom though! And the garden, it’s so pretty. Oh and also, I know it’s not really a business for you but, is there oatmeal every day for breakfast? Cause I hate it. And I just wondered if you’ll let me starve to death or maybe--” Liam interrupted her, chuckling, “Oatmeal is very nutritional, but if you don’t like I’m sure you’ll find something else to eat.” Riley looked at his face. He seemed to be a nice guy. Maybe he just likes solitude and is tired with people.

“Liam, sir I mean, what I really want to know, why are you so separated from the civilization? You’re pretty young I believe, and usually it’s old people that retire somewhere far from the city,” Oh my gosh, Riley shut up, “it’s not like you’re old! I didn’t mean, I just wanted, I, um” she rambled.

Liam stopped walking for a moment and bursted into laughter. “It’s okay, I am not very old that’s true, but I’m not very young either. This country is beautiful but I was tired with people and politics and everything that was happening here. I just really enjoy peace. That’s the whole secret.” She smiled not really satisfied with the answer.

Maybe she was just imagining things? Maybe it was true, this guy right here prefers living in alienation. Maybe there’s no story.

But then, a young man, wearing suit and glasses ran up to them, calling Liam’s name. Liam turned around and his face fell. His jaw clenched as the man approached them. “Liam! There you are!” the elegantly-dressed man said, “I was looking for you for a while now, there is an important matter to attend to” he added. Liam’s eyes widened as the mysterious man silently nodded. “Of course!” Liam turned to Riley, “Riley, this is Justin,  the bro--,” he stopped realizing what he was about to say and then quickly corrected himself, “my assistant, Justin, this is Riley, Amelia’s governess.” Riley and Justin shook hands. “Lady Riley, I must unfortunately leave you, can we continue the walk later?” “Yeah, sure. No worries.”

The men walked away and Riley only thought how Liam tensed up when he saw that man. And another assistant? Why would Liam need any assistants if that whole thing is just about solitude? Unless...Unless there’s something more to it. Riley looked in the direction of the castle and decided she needed to know what was happening there. First step, Liam’s study.

let me know if you want to be added or removed from the tag list!

#trr #trr au #the royal romance #the royal romance au #the royal romance fanfiction #drake walker #king liam #maxwell beaumont #hana lee #liam x mc #drake x mc #? x mc #playchoices #choices stories you play #choices fanfic #choices fanfiction

[im-basically-logan]

Happy Density Day!

haha get it cuz the formula for density looks like a heart. I still dont know how to title things. Analogical V-Day fic anybody? (quick note- sorry if the pacing is sorta weird??? idk how story writing works. personally my favorite part is the last few paragraphs lmao)

Summary: Logan wants to give Virgil a poem for Valentine’s Day, but wants to make it as perfect as possible. Either way, Virgil loves it. Words: 2,796 Ship: Analogical, Royality (tho, it’s only briefly mentioned and analogical is the focus) TW: Kissing, sleeping at bad hours, uh... Patton tackles Roman playfully at one point Please send me an ask/message if I need to add a trigger. Genre: Fluff!!

@riverbendover @nokatai-realm @crowsketches @living-on-the-virge

It was about 3 days before Valentine’s Day and as much as Logan would usually show nonchalance or distaste towards the holiday, he’s been Virgil’s boyfriend for 8 months now. He wasn’t going to brush off their first Valentine’s Day. He was going to make the perfect card for his Virgil even if it meant he didn’t get any sleep that week. Well, that was an exaggeration and Virgil would probably ask as to why Logan’s sleep schedule had suddenly done a 180. But nonetheless, Logan was going to make a nice little card.

Logan started out with printer paper as a planning stage, wondering what to actually put in the card. He went through scribbled out drawings, minimalistic pictures, telling Virgil how beautiful he was, and finally settled on writing a poem. He was good at those. Usually.

His trash can in his room began filling with balled up clumps of paper which were drafts that he deemed not good enough.

“Clothes are dark as space,  but eyes as bright as the stars. I hope-- No.” Logan mumbled the poem out loud to himself, then crumpled up the paper, threw it to the side, and started anew. The side of his hand was turning gray from being left-handed and the graphite of the pencil he was using. “I cannot describe to you how much I love you. It was a revelation when I had discovered my feelings for you. Like when Newton discovered gravity. It was fundamental to understanding life as you are fundamental to me understanding emotions…” He tapped the pencil against his head quickly, trying to think. It sounded… Like something. It wasn’t too bad, but he decided to trash and rewrite it again. It was probably just fine, but Logan was a perfectionist.

He began writing a bit more before deciding to create the decorations on the light purple construction paper he found for the actual card. He had the equation 128√e980 written along over the spine while the card was flattened. The equation was supposed to be read while the card was closed and turned a certain way, and it would read “I love you” from being folded in half. He found the little trick while looking up ways to say I love you to a partner. In pen he neatly wrote inside the cover of the card the beginning to his poem to Virgil. The beginning was the only thing he was happy with at the moment, but he would add more later. He checked his watch and read 11:30 pm. He sighed, put his materials away and went to bed. Although made sure to put the card neatly into the drawer of his desk. It was only 2 days before Valentine’s Day and he barely had anything! He wanted to keep working on it, but also sleeping was important and he and the others were working on getting a full night’s rest. Besides, Virgil would badger him in the morning about it and he couldn’t have his boyfriend find his surprise.

Logan went through the next day rather smoothly: Nice comebacks to Roman, reminding Thomas of important events, and of course a few nice kisses with Virgil in the middle of it all. Patton always grinned if he caught them and Roman always teased them until Logan mentioned it was almost Valentine’s Day.

“We are allowed to have physical affection, especially around this time of year, correct?” Logan asked Roman, raising a brow with a pouting expression.

“Well I suppose so, but… You two are such nerds!” Roman responded weakly, unable to come up with a witty reply. Patton butted in, putting his arm around Roman’s shoulders.

“Now, don’t be mean, Roman. It’s your time of the year, isn’t it? Valentine’s Day! A day of Roman-ce.” Patton laughed and Virgil, who was leaning slightly against Logan, snickered. Logan sighed with a very small hint of a smile while Roman rolled his eyes with a laugh. He exited with Patton, most likely about to go on an adventure or brainstorm. Logan, although, had a pit in his stomach as he was constantly reminded Valentine’s Day was just around the corner.

Such terrible planning on my end… He thought, biting the inside of his mouth before kissing Virgil on the head as they went to do their own separate things for now. He sank out and went to his room, relieved to find it just as it was when he left it. He hadn’t taken out his trash yet, but he assumed Virgil wouldn’t go digging through it at least and see the drafts. Checking his watch, which read 8:30 pm, Logan pulled out the drawer and took out the card. He drew a little density equation on the back, coloring in the little heart that the symbols for mass over volume created. He then opened the card back up, rereading the beginning of the poem he kept from a draft.

“I don’t believe I’ll be able to explain my love towards you. Like how it is a mystery as to the true way the universe was created despite the many theories. How the chances of us existing together may have been smaller than a quark, But we managed to exist and come together.” Logan sat down at his desk and began writing a bit more, once again mumbling the words to himself as he wrote. “Your mind can be as far away as a galaxy,

but I’d travel the light years.

You’re a fundamental element in my life, Like gravity to planets and stars.” He bit the bottom of his lip, unable to think of anything else to add. “I can’t even write a simple poem…” He murmured to himself, dropping his pencil. He kept his head up with his left hand, trying to think. There wasn’t any specific pattern or rhyme to the poem. It was purely just him rambling about how great Virgil is in metaphors about space and science. Would Virgil even enjoy that? He created a small, curvy border with a blue pen on the inside of the card, but cringed as he looked back to the unfinished poem. Then he put another line. “I am and always will be unable to express how much I care for you.” It was true, but the poem felt too short and he barely had an idea on how to end it. He wrote on the other half of the inside of the card “Happy Valentine’s Day, Virgil. Love, Logan”, drew a simplistic galaxy on the front, and went back to his previous position of laying his head atop his hand. Instead of coming up with any ideas, Logan somehow fell asleep on his hand. He took his nap for about 4 hours, waking up at the superb hour of around 1 am and his head ended up on the desk with his hand still upright. Great. Only 1 day until Valentine’s Day and he was barely done with his card. He dug his hands into his hair in frustration. It should have been easy to write a poem. But no it was going to be difficult and now he was tired as hell. He decided to create the blue borders on the outside of the card while waiting for the others to get up. After finishing the border, which did look rather nice, he put it back in the desk drawer and went to sleep in his bed this time. Although he didn’t fall asleep immediately. Of course not. He was thinking about what Virgil would think if he barely had anything to give. The poem was pretty choppy… he should rewrite it again. What if Virgil didn’t even want a card? Would chocolates have been better?

Luckily, Logan didn’t stay up late enough to question anymore as he crashed into sleep while thinking about Virgil. Said side must have felt Logan still being awake because he made his way into Logan’s room having woke up early himself. It was dark so he couldn’t see the trash can of the Valentine’s drafts but he could feel his way over to Logan’s bed and curled into his chest almost like a human-sized cat. Before going back to sleep, he kissed Logan’s cheek and put his head half on some pillow and half on the mattress with his head lying against the top of Logan’s chest. He didn’t mind sleeping like this, in fact if he was resting next to Logan on just a mattress he’d be content like that as well.

In the morning, the actual morning of about 7:45 am, Logan found a Virgil sleeping next to him. He sighed dreamily, then remembered that he still hadn’t thrown out his god damn drafts yet. Logan tried to move as subtly and quietly as possible to not wake Virgil. He eventually got out of  bed and moved the plastic bin under his desk quickly as he heard Virgil shuffling on the bed. Then he went back over his bed, kissing Virgil’s forehead.

“Virge? C’mon, it’s almost 8 o’ clock,” Logan said, looking at his watch. Virgil was awake, but he kept his eyes closed as he replied,”I don’t wanna.”

“Patton’s making french toast.” “5 more minutes.”

“We both know that means 5 more hours, metaphorically and even literally at times.”

“Shush, nerd.” Virgil eventually opened his eyes and got up, his hair messy and partially standing. Logan smirked at the other’s appearance, holding out his hand for Virgil to take. So Virgil takes it gladly and they move on with the rest of their day.

Logan had barely any opportunities to work on his card but while there was a short lull he managed to write a few more lines. “You’re nothing short of breath taking. A star should be named after you. No, a galaxy.”

He stopped as he felt a presence in his room. It was Patton. Oh thank god. They both headed off to the commons to discuss with the other two about the big day tomorrow.

“What are you two doing?” Roman asked Virgil and Logan. They both shrugged, but Logan of course, had a small gift to finish.

“Why are you asking?” Virgil replied. “What are you doing, Princey?” Roman was about to respond when he was suddenly tackled by Patton on the couch, letting out a boisterous laugh.

“Well of course, romantic things! Anyways, I thought you’d both at least say something like spending time with each other.” He continued as Patton got off and sat next to him, a wide grin on his face.

“Well that’s a given, isn’t it?” That was Logan, who quirked a brow.

Virgil shrugged. “Sure. We can just chill out here since Romano and Patton are probably going to the fantasy realm or whatever.”

Logan nodded as Roman scoffed at the seemingly mundane idea. He said it was such a boring thing to do on Valentine’s Day, but Virgil didn’t mind.

They all went off to do their jobs and then night time came around again.

Logan was rushing through his notes after playing a game of 52 pickup with his slang vocab cards which he foolishly dropped while hurrying back to his room. He closed his binder with satisfaction after looking at the schedule, putting it away in a separate drawer from the card, which he took back out of its hiding place. He was clueless as to what to add. It had barely any stanzas. Logan tapped his pencil against the table, making a fast paced clicking noise.

“Ughhh!” The logical facet sighed, his mind totally blank. “I should have gotten more hours of sleep.” He looked at his watch: 10:40 pm. He could still finish it by tomorrow. Logan, although, was holding his head up with his forearms, consciousness blinking on and off. He decided, if anything, to add just one more line he could think of. Everything else was decorated and he could finish it after taking a quick nap. He wrote it down slowly due to fatigue, but still tried his best to make it look neat.

“I love--”

Then somehow passed out while writing with a pen. Though, Thomas used to do that at times so was it really that surprising? He was out cold for a while and even slept past 8 am.

“Logan?” Virgil called, noticing Logan’s absence in the morning from the commons. Then Virgil finally found his boyfriend’s head resting on his desk with a nicely decorated card next to his right arm. He noticed the still full trash can of paper and then picked up the card. He didn’t read the inside yet, wanting to see the other things first. He noticed the equation “I love you” message first and chuckled at such a nerdy detail. Then he found the density formula on the back and smirked. How had he been so blessed as to have had such a caring nerd in his life?

Virgil finally opened the card to see the partially unfinished poem on the left flap and a nicely written closing on the right. He saw his name, so this must’ve been for him.

“I guess he didn’t finish…” Virgil concluded out loud to himself, but he really wanted to read the poem. Logan had written him previous poems and he absolutely loved them. So he read it aloud, mumbling the words under his breath.

“I don’t believe I’ll be able to explain my love towards you. Like how it is a mystery as to the true way the universe was created despite the many theories. How the chances of us existing together may have been smaller than a quark, But we managed to exist and come together. Your mind can be as far away as a galaxy,

but I’d travel the light years. You’re a fundamental element in my life, Like gravity to planets and stars. I am and always will be unable to express how much I care for you. You’re nothing short of breathtaking. A star should be named after you. No a nebula. I love…”

Logan had woken up as Virgil was reading the second to last stanza, although wasn’t completely aware of his surroundings yet.

“Morning, dear,” Logan greeted with a yawn, adjusting his glasses and hair as much as he could. He was calm and tired until he saw what Virgil had in his hand and then he was fully awake in an instant.

“I… did you read that?” Virgil nodded slowly, hoping the logical facet wasn’t upset. They sat in silence for a few moments before Virgil, surprisingly, broke the silence.

“Um… I really liked it, actually. Really.” He gave a genuine smile, moving to plant a kiss on Logan’s messy hair.

“Really?” “Yes, I did.” “It’s not even finished or--” Logan almost tripped over his own feet trying to sit up from the chair. It was way too early for this. (It was almost 1 pm).

Virgil laughed as Logan struggled to stand up and move, eventually falling onto his bed face first before slowly turning himself around and sitting up. Virgil made his way over to the bed too with much less stumbling, sitting down next to Logan.

“I assume this-” Virgil pointed at the word “love” at the end of the poem. “-is supposed to say ‘I love you’, right?”

Logan looked at Virgil deliriously for a few seconds before practically diving forward and kissing him. Virgil almost let go of the card, but held on and melted into the kiss, smiling as he did so. Then they both fell backwards onto the bed in suppressed giggles.

“I’ve never seen you this giddy,” Virgil commented teasingly.

Logan pointed an index finger straight up as in an objection. “In my defense, I’m very tired.” They both broke into laughter again. After a few minutes of Logan waking up, he had Virgil give him the card to finish writing out “you” and then gave it back.

“I love it, Logan.” He looked at the now fully visible trash can of drafts. “Man… I wish I made something.”

“It’s okay Virgil, you yourself are enough,” Logan replied, pecking Virgil on the forehead who look assured enough for now.

They eventually made their way downstairs, Virgil still latching onto the card, and had their first Valentine’s Day. It consisted of Virgil constantly complimenting Logan’s card and poem, making him blush, and Logan constantly saying how amazing Virgil is, making him blush as well. They cuddled on the couch and watched a few documentaries about space and other oddities.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, dear.” Logan presses a kiss to Virgil’s lips for the millionth time today.

Virgil smiles into it and responds,”Happy Valentine’s Day, nerd.”

#sander sides #analogical #logan sanders #virgil sanders #royality but not rlly #patton sanders #roman sanders #sander sides fic #valentines day #kissing #analogical fluff #my fic #lo rambles

[madnadidraw]

Parents/Caregivers Take Note:

It is currently 12:15 AM at the time of me beginning to write this. 

The night before this post, I tried to make a text after 11 PM  (it was at 11:10 PM to be exact) and found that my phone would not send the text. I then received a text from my cellular service provider (CSP) stating that “Your phone has been restricted by the account owner. You cannot send messages until the time of day restriction ends”. The very first thing I did was screenshot it, send it to my mom (because I knew it was her that had done this), and asked if she was serious, and why? She was hoping it would help me go to bed sooner, but added that she had started it as of a week or so ago. I replied that this could only hurt my situation.

Why? Because I stay up until very late, the absolute earliest I go to bed is 2 AM and that is rare. I usually end up falling asleep at 4 AM, or I don’t sleep at all. Why? Because I have chronic nightmares that leave me waking up unable to get out of bed in time for school. Why? Because I have been through traumatic experiences, and every time I dream I relive those experiences. Just mentioning my dreams is breaking me close to a breakdown, but this post is important.

My mom is aware of all of the above information 

Turning off my texting and calling abilities only meant I could not reach out to any type of mental health professionals (specifically the ones I use), usually not something I’d need, but important in a crisis. Here’s where we get to the important bit, crises. Catastrophic breakdowns. Ones that greatly inhibit my ability to do much of anything, or at least specific tasks.

It is currently 12:27 AM as I write this time-log, I have done nothing but work on this post for the past 12 minutes.

At 11:04pm I open up Snapchat, the app I use to message everybody I am relatively close to, excluding family, to respond to a text from my partner. It does not go through. I try again. Nothing. Again. Nothing. I try all kinds of social media again, and again and again. And Again Nothing Again Nothing Again Nothing Again Nothing Again Nothing Again Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. No. Thing. At all. I am locked out. Now. Now I’m in crisis. For the past hour and a half I have been riding the waves of “IM HAVING A BREAKDOWN” and “I cannot shut down I have work to do”. I have done nothing but cope for the past hour and a half, yet I am still trying to do work before I fall asleep. I am currently on my desktop, rather than a mobile device in bed, to avoid falling asleep. 

It is currently 12:36 AM as I write this time-log, I have done nothing but work on this post for the past 21 minutes. 

Why? Because I have a test tomorrow, a test which I have to teach myself content for due to extreme amounts of absences. A test I cannot afford to get any less than an A on, as grades close quite soon for this quarter. A quarter I cannot afford to fail (or receive less than an A on), because then I’ll be stressed for all of next quarter, because this is the only AP level or college level course that I have had an A in this year, all year. An A I promised myself I would get, because last year I constantly rode the line of a high C and a low B. I ended up getting a C first semester, and a B second semester. The C was a result of my traumatic experiences, and I promised I wouldn’t let that affect my math grade ever again, because math has always been one of my strongest classes. One of the strongest reasons I had been admitted to my dream school. Failing this test? Not an option. So, since I got home from school, finished dinner, and grounded and isolated myself (7 PM) I had been working on studying for this test. That’s four straight hours of studying, which is extremely abnormal, as I rarely do any assignments, much less studying. But at 11:04 PM that all stopped. Everything stopped. I shut down. I focused on grounding, coping, and recovering. I had had a terrible day, all day. 

It is currently 12:47 AM as I write this time-log, I have done nothing but work on this post for the past 32 minutes.

Why? I had gone to bed early. So I had a nightmare. So I was uncomfortable from the start, I was ashamed, paranoid, triggered, scared, and I hated every inch of my body, but I didn’t want to be late again to first period. So I forced myself to make this a good day. It was a Wednesday. We had Friday off (Good Friday). I could get through this day. I didn’t have the ability to attend the partial hospitalization program (PHP) I attend to treat my PTSD today, because of an appointment I had been planning for months (well before I knew I would be in PHP). But I knew I would be there tomorrow, and although I usually leave school at 12:45 PM, my appointment would have me relatively excited, so it felt as though it would balance out. It didn’t.

It is currently 12:55 AM as I write this time-log, I have done nothing but work on this post for the past 40 minutes.

 Assembly for seniors which pertains to the big class events, mainly Senior Prom. My friends decide to sit directly in front of The Jocks TM, people I just generally don’t get along with, but I followed because I can handle myself. Or I thought so. A group of The Jocks TM decided to boo when our principal came out to speak about senior prom. I needed as much info as possible, because I am bringing my partner to senior prom, and they attend a different school. So I am already anxious and nervous, but they’re making it worse because I can’t listen and get the info I need. And then he mentions the breathalyzers, a mandatory part of just about every prom across my state. And they boo. They’re yelling, so much so that the principal has to pause and wait. This wouldn’t be a big deal, but now I’m worried about senior prom. Now I’m worried they’re going to do their best to get absolutely wasted and I do NOT want to bring my partner into that environment. Not because I’m possessive and want to shelter them, but because prom is an expensive event that I invited them to specifically so that we could enjoy it together, even though it was expensive. I haven’t even made it to my second period yet, and my paranoia is already through the roof.

It is currently 1:04 AM as I write this time-log, I have done nothing but work on this post for the past 49 minutes.

Second period flows, I speak to some people, I calm down a bit. Then third period hits. Third period is my math class. The teacher would be out, so it was essentially a study hall. I was hoping to use it to catch up/study, but instead I’m discussing the assembly and senior prom with kids I know might have info, some, any, a fucking word idgaf, about what to expect after our principal announced the breathalyzers, I mentioned how I was bringing my partner and they attend a different school, and I didn’t want them to have that as their one and only experience with my school. Nothing. Not an ounce of anything remotely helpful. I’ve already used just about all of this period to discuss senior prom, so I decide to focus on catch up work. Nope. Not happening. Instead a group of kids sitting directly next to me start talking about a trans-girl I know, and they are saying ignorant things. Based on the conversation, I can rationally deduce they weren't being transphobic/homophobic, they just aren’t up to date with the language. But as a now extremely paranoid gay woman, hearing something remotely anti-LGBT put me into an even greater state of paranoia, and fear, because I am openly gay and they are discussing this right next to me. Finally the period ends, and I can relax into one of the two lunch periods I have (because I have a heavily reduced schedule to help cope with stress and trauma, both of which are heavily tied to the school building itself). I get through that, enter my fifth period class, acting, and finally get to my second lunch, sixth period. Sixth period I go to see my guidance counselor to continue discussing what can be done about AP physics, the class I have next period (two on lab days). The class I am currently failing. The main stressor out of all my classes. She says my dream school, the one I will attend in the fall, has not gotten back to her about dropping it/taking it as a pass fail. 

It is currently 1:20 AM as I write this time-log, I have done nothing but work on this post for over an hour now. I have not left the room, gotten a drink, gotten a snack, or even stood up out of my chair in the since 11:04 PM.

No big deal, I’ll just tell my physics teacher what’s goi- “Nadia the test you were supposed to make up Friday, but haven’t been able to yet? I want you to take it now. I figured you might as well get it out of the way considering you have this period and next to work on it” 

It is currently 1:25 AM as I write this time-log, I have done nothing but work on this post for 70 minutes.

Oh. Can I check my phone real quick?

Sure.

+4 new emails to your school email!

*Opens*

(From my guidance counselor): Nadia [dream school] just called, please come see me

Hey uhhhh, my guidance counselor wants to see me RIGHT now.

Really? That’s odd. I’ll call her, you get started on the test.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

I filled in random answers on the multiple choice, skipped the open ended questions, and made it look like I was working on it until the end of eighth period. I cover up the blank spaces where writing should be with the multiple choice packet, hand it into the teacher of the room I was randomly thrown into, and book it to my counselor’s office to catch her before my appointment.

It is currently 1:29 AM as I write this time-log, I have done nothing but hold back tears, ground myself, and write this post for the past 84 minutes.

They said you can’t drop it if you want to be certain you’ll be there in the fall, they want to see you get a C or above in the.....

That’s it.

That’s the last piece.

I’m broken.

Since 11:04 PM I have done nothing but try to ground myself and cope with the fact that I lost my connection to almost everything. That I will continue to lose this connection every night at 11:00 PM. That I will lose any and all electronic based or assisted coping mechanisms I may have, until after I wake up. It is currently 1:33 AM as I write this time-log, I have done nothing but work on this post for the past 89 minutes, and I have been trying to cope and ground myself for roughly two and a half hours (149 minutes).

So. Let’s recap

I have had a bad day.

After my appointment I got home and began studying for my test at 7 PM

At 11:04 PM I had a break down, and have been trying to cope and ground myself since. 

I have not finished studying yet, and I intend to stay up, rather than try to sleep earlier, to finish doing so.

The test I was and will be studying for, whether this is true or not, feel as though it will decide where I spend the next year of my life.

Now for the obvious question:

How could this have been avoided?

Am I asking for my mom to not have turned off service for my phone? No. She had already turned off texting, this was the obvious next step.

Now my answer, my main take away for parents and caregivers.

Talk to your kids.

Talk to your kids about punishments you intend to use, whether they’ve done something wrong or not, so that you can be sure it won’t break them.

Talk to your kids. 

Talk to your kids about what you expect from them, ask them to honestly tell you what their limits are, even if they conflict with these expectations.

But most of all.

Talk to your kids.

Talk to your kids when you’re trying to help them, make sure your proposed solution or support does not end up hurting them. If my mom had told me about this, even at 10:59 PM, a minute before it would take place, this break down could have been avoided.

RECOGNIZE THAT YOU DO NOT ALWAYS KNOW BEST

Parents and caregivers; if you expect your kids (or those receiving your care) to trust you? To respect you? To be honest with you? 

TRUST THEM FIRST

If you always assume that you and you alone know what’s best for your kids, that you alone know how to best support them and reprimand them. 

You need to recognize that kids are still people and can speak for themselves.

I am 18 years old, I am not asking you to start talking to your one month old as if they are in high school. I am asking you to give us the respect that you think you deserve. The fact that...

...It is currently 1:46 AM (14 minutes before the earliest time I fall asleep) as I am writing this time-log, I have been trying to cope and ground myself for 162 minutes, and working on this post for 102 minutes...

...should be message enough that assuming you know best, does not work.

#reblog the shit out of this #trigger warning #oc #my writing #me #my mental health #my depression #my ptsd #my anxiety #my triggers #depression #PTSD #anxiety #stress #paranoia #Triggers #discussion of trauma/mild mentions of homophobia/mental health instutions #frequent discussion of coping with MY trauma #frequent discussion of parents/caregivers #my parents #parent #parents #parenting #parent tips #parenting tips #parents/caregivers #caregiver #caregivers #school #caregiving