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sevsnapeposts · 3 years

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Snapetober Day 5: Apple orchard.

hello, this one was a bit hard t imagine, but it was oh so fun to write. i love interactions between severus and the other professors. please, feel free to read it over in ao3 if you'd like, and also if yoou'd be kind enough, go give me some kudos over there. thanks, hope you enjoy~.

Day 5 - Apple orchard.

Hogwarts was a college of the highest prestige, and as such it had a reputation to uphold. One could doubt its safety, the responsibility professors had in handing out certain punishments to students, and even the expertise of said professors themselves (people pointed to Remus Lupin, although honestly, Lockhart was the blackest sheep ever), but there was something that could never be reproached: The quality of the food.

From mashed potatoes to the most elaborate cake to all kinds of drinks, every meal at Hogwarts was a pleasure. Elves cooked everything to perfection, and if it weren't for a certain professor, everyone thoroughly enjoyed the cooking. Much of it was due to the quality of the products, all being the best of the best, natural and fresh. The elves gathered the very first harvest at the end of the summer holidays, leading to the Great Banquet, the best dinner of the year in the opinion of the vast majority.

And speaking of it, it was primordial to get things done. This year they would have Beauxbatons and Durmstrang as guests, and Hogwarts couldn’t disappoint.

Somewhere in the castle, Dumbledore had an idea.

"I seem unable to understand why we had to come".

Severus hated many things: teenagers, the smell of wet dog, physical contact, Potter, Potter's godfather, Potter's father, and lately Lucius for nagging him about going to see the Quidditch World Cup. But if there was one thing Severus hated more than all those things put together, it was the sun. Especially the summer sun. He had nothing against the nice hot, light-filled days of that time of year, as long as he could be tucked underground, in the sweet, cold shade, surrounded by water and silence and not a drop of sunlight.

Unfortunately for him, the poor man was walking along with all the other Heads of House, and Dumbledore of course, under the tireless and exhausting gaze of the major star. They were on their way to an apple orchard, the one that supplied Hogwarts and where the elves would appear in a few hours. It had occurred to Dumbledore that it would be a fun outing for the five of them, and Severus couldn't have disagreed more, but everyone else was largely ignoring him, determined to have some fun.

In any case, Severus felt his face hot, certain that his pale skin was quite flushed, which bothered him even more. He looked at his companions, for a second envying how fresh they all looked: Pomona was wearing jeans and a plaid shirt, while Filius was wearing some sort of scout outfit that gave him an almost, almost , funny look; Minerva, on the other side, was wearing a dress that reached below the knee, white with small flowers of different colors that made her look much younger; even Dumbledore had changed his usual outfits that (in the young professor's eyes) looked like pajamas to a pair of shorts from which his slender legs peeked out, the long beard braided to keep it out of the way. The only one who had steadfastly refused to change was Severus, who wore his capes and capes of clothing black as the abyss, and thanks to which he was slowly dying of heat. Not even the cooling spell he had cast on himself could do much more than keep him from perspiring.

But he didn't care. He had a reputation to uphold, for fuck's sake.

“Because it's fun!”, Dumbledore exclaimed. Severus walked between him and Minerva, as usual, while Pomona and Filius walked a bit ahead, marveling like little children at every damn plant in the field. “Also, I know you love our summer vacation expeditions and activities”.

Severus didn't reply, but he shot him a cold, unamused look, as for the last time they'd been out on ‘summer vacation expeditions and activities’ he was almost eaten by a dragon.

"Come on Severus, chill", Minerva chimed in, pulling a hat from her enchanted purse. It was huge and colorful, clearly not one that she would ever wear herself. The woman looked at him with almost sadistic amusement. “Look what I got you! It should help you cool down a bit”.

"No thanks", said the young man, looking listlessly at the hat. He noticed that it also had a cleat that was attached into a bun at the back.

He didn't even want to imagine the teasing if word got out. If they had already been unbearable about Longbottom's grandmother’s outfit...

"Tsk, you're going to get a heatstroke at this rate, and neither of us are going to carry you", the professor reproached him, handing the hat to Dumbledore for examination. Severus raised an eyebrow.

"I don't think I have that much luck”.

With another annoyed snort, the group decided to ignore the miserable man again, opting instead to go ahead with the other two teachers. Severus noticed that Dumbledore had put on the hat he was wearing himself and barely had the strength to not snort.

A short time later they reached the top of the hill, where the orchard was. The orchard was somewhat visited, so the landowner had hired some workers to properly care for the people coming and going. At the moment, two young witches were waiting for them standing there, with shorts and shirts tied mid-torso, and thin, light-toned capes tangled around their shoulders and falling to the ground.

Severus was tempted to petrify one of them and change clothes.

The girls welcomed them, very animated, and provided a basket to each one, as well as a tablecloth so that they could sit and watch the sunset if they wanted to. Dumbledore thanked them kindly, and Severus finally put on Minerva's hat when he heard one of the witches comment that smoke was coming out of his head. Minerva laughed at him.

"Shut up".

What had started out as a simple and boring day picking apples ended up being a visceral competition to see who put more fruits in their respective basket after Dumbledore bet 5 galleons that he would be the one with the most. Severus had been in the middle of all the mess, watching as Filius sneakily enchanted apples to fly from Minerva's basket into his own while Dumbledore helped him by distracting the Transfiguration teacher; how Pomona ‘accidentally’ tripped over the headmaster's basket, and in the process of helping him pick them up she took a load of them with her; how Minerva would transform twigs into fake apples to add to her collection.

He hadn't participated in their affairs, of course, because he thought it was the stupidest thing in the world, but he didn't hesitate to gossip to others, starting an argument that ended in apples flying through the air and more than one trampled basket.

Now it was dusk, the ravaging sun being only a bright half disk out on the horizon, slowly fading away. The five teachers had already cleaned up their mess by then, and were sitting on the red and white checkered tablecloth, relaxing after their pitched battle. The only basket that was left intact and capable of carrying apples was Severus', so this had been placed in the center of the group so that anyone could reach out and grab one of the fruits. No one was surprised that Severus was the only one who didn't want to eat one, despite Minerva's scolding look.

But still, the man had already overcome his annoyance, although he wasn’t going to show it out of pure pride. He told himself it was because the damn heat was finally subsiding, which meant he was already able to take off the stupid hat; it had nothing to do with how hilarious he thought the professors' quarrel was, having so much fun with it that he often didn't even realize he was smiling, and that by the end of the day he didn't even remember that he was hot.

"What are we going to do? There are so many! I think if I eat one more I might as well explode”, Pomona complained, who by then had already eaten at least 5 apples. No one could blame her, as they were very sweet, firm without being too harsh, and so juicy that one ran the risk of getting both chin and chest dirty.

How Dumbledore didn’t get his beard dirty, nobody knew.

"The elves will take them to the castle when they come to collect the others. For now, we can leave them with those young ladies”, Dumbledore replied, biting his apple as he gazed at the horizon. Severus noticed how he shot him a sideways glance and braced himself for the worst. “By the way, Severus, I think you... caught the eye of one of them. The redhead, Lauren. Maybe you should go talk to her”.

Severus grimaced, trying to ignore the howl whistles the other teachers were making, as well as Minerva's elbow, which had dug into hir ribs as the woman taunted him.

He already had enough with being one person's crush.

"I think it’d be a better idea if you paid me the galleons you owe me", he replied, sitting upright. The other adults exchanged glances before making heated comments.

"And why would we give you something?".

"I wasn't serious about the bet...".

"You weren't even participating!".

"The way I see it", Severus said, raising his voice above the others, sure that he looked much more serious than the rest as he was the only one with enough dignity to still wear wizard clothes and not Muggle rags, "Dumbledore said whoever had the most apples in the basket was the winner, and the only basket I see is mine”.

"That's because you refused to participate!" Minerva growled, arms folded. Her eyes sparkled.

"I refused to cheat. I had fewer apples than you, but since they have to be in the basket and not in the memory… For instance, victory is mine”.

"That doesn't make any sense, Severus!", Pomona cried. The man waved his hand in a dismissive manner.

“If all players on a Quidditch team break their brooms over petty arguments during a match, would the opposing team be denied victory when only they are left in the air?”, he argued.

There was a heavy silence whilst the others, again, exchanged glances. And then, between reluctance and curses, his four companions searched their pockets and gave him the agreed galleons. Even Dumbledore looked dumbfounded. Severus didn't comment on it, but everyone noticed that his expression was much more smug than before when he reached out to finally eat an apple.

Minerva wasn’t about to be left with such a bitter loss.

"I bet Lauren would like to see that face on you”.

“Oh bloody hell Minerva, do shut up”.

#snapedom #snapetober #snapetober 2021 #snape community #snape fandom #snape fanfiction #snape fic #severus snape #albus dumbledore #minerva mcgonagall #pomona sprout #filius flitwick

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padme-parker · 4 years

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Keep On Loving You [AU!Anakin Skywalker x Reader]

Summary: After breaking up with Anakin nearly 5 years ago, you see him again.

Word Count: 6.1k+

Warnings: um angst, mentions of pregnancy and abortion, Anakin is an asshole in this one, fluff if you squint

A/N: This is a song fic, so listen to the cover of “Keep On Loving You” by Cigarettes After Sex while reading this!

Also, I was never gonna post this but I wanna supply ya’ll with content while I try (and horribly fail) to write ch 3 of Collide. Fun Fact: This was actually THE first fic I ever wrote and completed (so don’t have high expectations lmaooo)

Walking into the grocery store, you noticed it was more crowded than usual. It was odd, you thought, no one ever really comes to your local grocer. You brushed it off, continuing your shopping. Although you shopped here often, the workers rarely changed where the items were located. You had already familiarized yourself with the baking aisle, so imagine your surprise when you realized the flour was now on the top shelf. You tried to grab it by hopping, but that didn’t work out. As you started to climb the shelves, a hand reached out and grabbed it for you.

“Thank you!” You replied cheerfully. You hadn’t even had the chance to turn around before you heard a quiet, “No problem.” Your body had tensed up. You could recognize that voice anywhere, it didn’t matter that five years had already gone by.

“Ani?” You turned slowly, hoping your ears weren’t deceiving you.

“Y/N?” The warmth had left your face, you tried to blink back the tears. The air had left your body, suddenly you couldn’t remember how to breathe. “Hey, Anakin.” You said with a faint smile

“My god! It is you Y/N. How are you?” You were surprised he had even remembered you.

“I’m good, just buying some stuff for myself.” you replied.

“Flour? I don’t recall you being into baking when we were together..”

“Oh, yeah. It’s something I..uh.. Picked up on after you left. I was just actually getting some ingredients for some cookies. What about you, how are you doing?” You told him, you couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes, so you chose to admire the floor instead.

“I’m doing pretty good, I would go into full details but I don’t want to disturb you.” He said, “Actually, how about we go grab a cup of coffee?” After he said that, you lifted your head to look at him. He must’ve thought the face you made was funny because the corner of his lips started to quirk up.

“Yeah, okay. Let me just pay for this and we can go. Same place?” Anakin simply nodded his head, and with that you were off.

You let out a loud laugh, amused by one of Anakin’s stories. It felt like everything was right. As if the two of you never broke up, just like the old times. You wrapped your hands around the warm drink, trying to warm up your hands.

“So why are you back in New York, Anakin? I thought you were in Los Angeles for your acting career.” You paused, unsure what to say next.. “Congrats by the way, I know how much it means to you.” Although it hurt to say it, you were truly proud of his accomplishments. You turned to look at him and for the first time, you admired his appearance. His hair had gotten longer and his eyes were brighter now.

“About that, I’m here for my wedding!” For the second time today, the air left your body. You felt as though the world around you was now crumbling to pieces. It might’ve been five years, but you could never be able to stop loving Anakin.

“W-wow, really? Who’s the lucky lady?” You asked, you tried to keep your emotions in check. Now was not the time to cry.

“Her name is Padme, she’s an actress, just like me. It’s funny, we were both working on the same movie, our characters were in love with each other but I could’ve sworn she hated me. Well one thing led to another and now we’re going to get married.” A grin made its way onto Anakin’s face, “What about you Y/N, find anyone special?”

You hesitated before speaking, “No not really, I’ve been busy with work, taking care of my dogs and-” The shrill tone of Anakin’s phone cut you off, “Hold on, Padme’s calling..” He then proceeded to answer, giving you a sheepish look. You could faintly hear her on the phone, she had been panicking which caused Anakin to swiftly tidy up, “Okay, okay Padme, calm down, I’ll be there soon.” He gave you an apologetic look before getting up. “Do you.. Um… perhaps wanna go? To the wedding?” He asked you.

“Me? Ani, you want me to go?” You were curious, the two of you hadn’t spoken for almost five years, why in the world would Anakin want you there?

“Of course I do Y/N/N, how could I not?” You swallowed the lump in your throat before nodding. In return, a bright smile was given. “Great, I’ll send an invitation to your address” you quickly corrected him, “Actually, Anakin, I don’t live there anymore.” He let out a quick oh in response. Getting out a pen from your purse, you wrote down your address on a napkin before handing it to him.

He took a brief glance at it before shoving it in his pocket, “See you tonight?” You were caught off guard, “W-what?” you asked.

“To give you the invitation I mean.” He replied

You let out the breath you were holding, “Oh yeah, I guess I’ll see you tonight.” He gave you a swift nod accompanied by a smirk, and then he was gone.

By the time night came, you had completely forgotten that Anakin was going to stop by, too engrossed with the cookies you were baking. You were just about to take out the cookies when the bell rang. With a curse, you threw down the rag and ran to the door. Hastily opening the door, you were greeted by Anakin.

“Hey, thanks for coming by. It really means a lot to me, Anakin” You told him

“It really is no big deal y/n, and it would mean a lot to me if you came to my wedding.” Anakin then pulled an invitation out, “The wedding is on Saturday, the ceremony starts at 3pm.” Given that it was Tuesday, you had three days to find a suitable outfit. Or just rummage through your closet and find whatever was good enough.

“Look, I would invite you in Anakin, but I’m currently busy. Sorry” Your eyebrows were raised and gave him a shrug, “Gotta go, my cookies are gonna burn!” You shut the door on him before he could respond. You pressed your back against the door and took a deep breath to compose yourself before going back to your cookies. Seeing that your cookies were about to be burned, you quickly took them out.

“Who was at the door?” Asked your roommate

“HOLY SHIT! What the hell, Steve. Are you a ninja now?” You whisper screamed, taking a quick glance at him only to realize he was nearly naked, “And why in the world are you almost naked Steve?”

“It doesn’t matter. Oooh, are those cookies?” Before you could reply he grabbed one and shoved the hot cookie in his mouth. “So are you gonna tell me who that was?”

“No one, just a-- it was nobody.” you say, trying to sound convincing. Steve then gave you a pointed look, indicating that he would wait all night for the truth if he had to. Giving in, you told him who he was. “That was..he’s..” your eyes begin to tear up, “Anakin, it was him. He was just inviting me to his wedding.” It seems like all you did now was cry. You didn’t understand why you were crying, it’s been five years. You should be over him by now.

“Anakin, as in Anakin Skywalker the-” you cut him off, “Yes, that’s him.” The tears were coming out of you like a river now. He let out a soft sigh before taking you in his embrace, he knew what had happened between you and Anakin.

You had been waiting all night for Anakin to come home. You knew that he was close to landing a lead role, so you had wanted to prepare a nice dinner for his efforts along with sharing some good news of your own. Just as you pulled the chicken out of the oven, the front door opened. Anakin set down his stuff with a sigh, coming up behind you to wrap his arms around you.

For a moment, you let yourself get lost in his embrace. You enjoyed the warmth he emitted, snuggling closer to him. Anakin was the first person you had ever truly loved. No one could ever compare to him.

“So, how’d it go Ani?” Expecting another rejection, you turned to cup his face. However you were proved wrong when a smile lit up the room. “I got it baby! I did it!” He screamed, lifting you up and placing kisses on your face. You screamed along with him, you were happy that he was finally being recognized for his talent.

“Anakin, that’s amazing!” You were jumping with joy, “I made roast chicken, let's discuss over dinner.” You began to plate the chicken along with the honey roasted carrots and potatoes. Anakin set up the plates and cutlery, getting two wine glasses and your favorite bottle of wine. Once you saw that he finished setting up, you put the chicken and sides down on the table. Taking out a knife, you cut out a piece of breast meat for him. You were quite excited for this meal, you tried a new recipe, resulting in the chicken looking juicy and flavorful. You then served yourself before sitting down. Anakin reached for the bottle of wine, pouring himself a glass first before reaching over to grab yours.

“Actually, Ani, I think I’ll stick with water tonight.” He gave you a questioning look, “I’m quite parched, and although I’d love a glass right now, water seems like the only thing that can quench my thirst. Thank you though.” He got up to get you a glass of water before returning to his seat.

“So, tell me about it Ani.” You started the conversation

“Well y/n/n, everything about it was great. After auditioning I was sure I wasn’t going to get a call back, but they did baby! They called me and wanted to discuss the role with me.” He continued, “We have to start filming soon but..” He paused

“But what, Ani?” you implored

“I’m going to be gone for a long time y/n, in Los Angeles…” that surprised you, he was supposed to be gone in LA while you were in NYC, “How long Anakin?” you asked, afraid of his answer.

“Almost a year, my flight leaves tomorrow at 4:35pm” you froze, how were you supposed… what if… you couldn’t think, so many thoughts and questions were running through your mind.

“Ani, you’re going to spend a whole year in Los Angeles..away from me.”

“Y/n, it doesn’t have to be that way.” He reassured you, “You can come with me, we can still be together.” He must have been joking, there was no way you were going to leave. “Anakin, you know I can’t! Everything that I’ve built for my career is here!”

“If you come with me, we can rebuild our future together. Nothing will stop us, we won’t have anything to worry about. Imagine it, you and I, walking down the red carpet together. Hand in hand.” You were appalled, was that all he really cared about? The fame and fortune?

“You can’t be serious right now, Anakin! Is that all you care about? The money and fame that comes with being an actor? We both know that the world doesn’t give two shits about people like us!” You screamed, your chest was heaving now.

“People like us? What do you even mean by that? Are you insinuating that I’ll never be successful?” By now his eyes were wide open, gone was the supposed celebratory night.

“No- Anakin you’re putting words into my mouth, I-” “THEN WHAT Y/N? WHAT COULD YOU POSSIBLY MEAN?” You took a deep breath before opening your mouth, “Ani, all I’m saying is that the people don’t care about nobodies, and they never will.”

“But that’s the thing y/n, everyone starts as a nobody, yet the only person who can change that is yourself. I’m sorry but I can’t be with someone who doesn’t believe in me.” His eyes glistened with tears, he sniffled quietly, “I’ll come back for my stuff tomorrow before I leave, but I can’t stay here tonight.” The awkward squeaking of his chair broke you out of your trance, you watched as he put on his jacket and collected his keys. Just as he was walking out the door he paused, “You know y/n, I would’ve gone anywhere in the world for you. I just wished you’d done the same for me.” He said before softly closing the door.

You got up from your seat and walked towards your bedroom. Sitting down on the bed, you let out a defeated sigh. You scanned the room, only now noticing how much of it was filled with Anakin’s things. His scent still lingered in the air. You didn’t realise you were crying until you felt a tear drop onto your hands. You wiped away the tears before reaching under your side of the bed and taking out a box. Gently grasping the picture, you took it out of the box before starting to cry again, “It was supposed to be us together, forever.”

“So what’re going to do y/n? Are you actually going to his wedding?” Steve questioned you. In response you gave him a shrug. You knew it was wrong of you to go, but Anakin had personally invited you himself. Even though the two of you hadn’t talked to each other for half of a decade, he was still someone you cared about. Hell, you and Anakin grew up together as best friends, you had to be there for him. It was the least you could do. “Yeah, I’m going, Steve.”

The day of the wedding, you woke up nervous. Who wouldn't be, the ex you’re still madly and deeply in love with was going to get married to someone that wasn’t you. You called out for Steve but got no reply. You let out a sigh before getting up to get your phone to text him.

You: Hey, wya?

Steve: Good Morning y/n, I’m currently out. I won’t be home until later today, sorry bug :((

You: What! I was relying on you to watch my kids

Steve: I know, I know, sowwy. Maybe you can text the babysitter?

You left Steve on read to quickly text your babysitter.

You: JAR JAR!

JJ: Yo, wassup. What can I do for you today?

You: Can you take care of my precious children today? Pretty please!!!

JJ: Of course I can, I’d love to.

You: Great thanks JJ! Please be here before 2:05pm :)

You were grateful that you had Jar Jar on days like this, while you hadn’t spent much time with him, you trusted him enough with your kids. Hopping into the shower, you washed your hair and body, letting the warm water and steam unwind you a little. By the time you were done showering it had been 11:35am, leaving a couple hours to get ready and maybe have a little snack.

Walking over to your closet, you pulled out a satin champagne dress. It had a low cut, showing a little cleavage. The fabric on the left side of your hip wrapped around your body, coming back up to where it started, giving you a slight slit. Then you moved onto makeup, deciding on going for a simple look. After applying your foundation, concealer, and contour, you moved onto the upper half of your face. You carefully filled in your brows, making sure each swipe was precise. Taking a spoolie, you blended the brow product ensuring that your brows weren’t so harsh looking. Next, you took your favorite mascara and applied it to your lashes. While there was some volume, you decided to put on some eyelashes so your eyes didn’t look so naked compared to the rest of your face. You moved onto blush and highlight, deciding on whatever complimented your skin. For the finishing touch, you chose a mauve-nude lipstick along with a glittery lipgloss. As for hair, you slicked it back, putting it into a nice tight low bun. By the time you were finished, the clock was at 1:25pm. It took you nearly two hours to get ready, but you still had time to accessorize and grab a snack.

You grabbed the first gold necklace you could find and put it on, along with a pair of dangly earrings. The house was quiet, so you assumed that the dogs were still asleep or taking a nap. Creeping into the kitchen, you settled on having a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with a cup of yogurt for breakfast. Something quick and easy, it would keep you sustained until the eating portion of the wedding. If you had to be real, that was the one thing you were looking forward to. I mean who doesn’t love free food? After cleaning up, you went back to your room taking a quick second to check up on the sleeping beast on your bed. Seeing as it was still asleep, you went to the closet and pulled out a jacket along with strappy gold heels. It was nearing 2pm so you picked up your purse and made sure you had everything you needed. Makeup? Check. Phone? Check. Keys? Check. Invitation? Check. You walked into the bathroom and checked yourself out one last time. As you were heading towards the door, the doorbell rang, signaling Jar Jar’s arrival. You went to open it and invited him in.

“Alright Jar Jar, I’ve gotta run. You know where the food is if they get hungry, they’ve been napping for a while now so they might wake up soon, you know the drill.” You told him

“Yeah, yeah. I’ve got this under control. I’ve done this like a hundred times, duh.” He announced, you smiled at him. He never failed to lift your mood with his sarcastic and goofy attitude. You gave him one last nod before grabbing your keys out of your purse to lock the door.

Hopping into your car, you typed the address into your phone and started the journey to the venue. It took about 25 minutes to get there, you arrived at 2:30, giving you some time to find parking and a seat at the ceremony. The event was pretty big, given that both Anakin and Padme were famous, there had been many guests. You chose a seat in the middle of all the chairs, not too close yet not too far. You looked around, trying to spot anyone you knew but you couldn’t find anyone. Just as you were about to go on your phone to pass the time you felt someone sit awfully close to you. You looked up realizing who it was.

“Anakin!” You were surprised, shouldn’t he be up at the front? “Why’re sitting next to me? Aren’t you supposed to be at the front?” You took a glance at him, noticing how well his tux fit him.

“Well yeah, but I’m nervous y/n/n..” he replied. “What, why? Isn’t this supposed to be the happiest day of your life..?” you asked, you were starting to have second thoughts, maybe you shouldn’t have come after all. “I guess… listen I gotta go now, but you’ll be at the reception yeah?” you nodded, then he got up and walked away.

Before you knew it, music was starting to play but no one walked in yet, signalling that they were going to begin shortly. You took the time to admire the venue, there was a light lace fabric spanning from wall to wall, acting as a backdrop. The venue itself was a beautiful, dark brick building. Strewn around the room were fairy lights, making the atmosphere warmer. At the ends of every row were lanterns, containing light pink rocks and a burning candle. Across the aisle laid a white runway, each side having flower petals scattered, but left a clear path for the bridal party to walk down.

The doors swiftly opened and the music changed pace, one by one the bridal party began to walk down the aisle until the only person left was the bride. Each bridesmaid wore a different style of dress that complimented their style, but the color remained the same. Noticing that everyone was standing up, you stood up too, straightening out your dress. The orchestra played Canon in D, a wedding classic. Turning to Padme, you first took in her beauty. Her hair was curled to perfection, tied back only leaving a few hairs to frame her face. Her features were soft and angelic looking, you really couldn’t tell if she was wearing makeup or not. Your eyes drifted to her dress, it was truly magnificent. It was white with ivory detailing, her flowy sleeves made of lace. It was as if she was an angel sent from the heavens. You continued to admire her, then your eyes fell to her swollen belly, one hand clasped over it while the other was holding her bouquet. You were shocked to the core, Anakin really didn’t love you anymore, did he? Of course, you weren’t a silly girl, you knew that he was going to move on from you, but you hadn’t expected this.

Just as Padme took Anakin’s hand, you flopped down into your chair. The remainder of the guests sat down too, commencing the ceremony.

“Friends and family, we are joined here today to celebrate the wedding of Padmé Amidala and Anakin Skywalker.” Hold on, wait a second. Was that Obi Wan? Your whole body perked up, looking for the strawberry blonde. You were surprised that they chose Obi Wan to be their officiant. Given the fact that they’re both famous, you’d assume they’d have an actual priest at their wedding. To ya’know, keep up their reputation and appeal to their audience.

You should've seen by the look in my eyes, that there was something missing.

“Marriage is a pathway to a promise between two beings. That they will always love and trust each other. Creating a bond that can never be broken. So I’ll ask this now before we continue. If anyone objects to this union, speak now or forever hold your peace.” For a minute, the world around you stopped. All you could see was him, your Anakin. His eyes met your gaze, as if it was a silent plea.

Tearing your eyes away from him, you sunk into your seat. Oh gods, why did you just have to go to the store while Anakin was in town. All of this could’ve been avoided if you had just gone shopping on Monday, but who the hell goes grocery shopping on a Monday?

“Alright, now that we have that out of the way, let's allow the bride and groom to share a few words.” Obi Wan handed the microphone to Anakin.

You should've known by the tone of my voice, but you didn't listen.

“You know Padme, never in a million years did I think I’d be getting married.” ouch, “Let alone to the girl of my dreams.” wow, it seems like Anakin was trying to make you more miserable than you already were. “So it’s so amazing that I’m standing here today, with you. Within the five years I’ve known you, three of them consisting of us being together, I’ve come to know what type of person you are. Padme is selfless, loving, and strong-willed. After our first movie together, I just knew that I had to have her. Every time I’d ask you out on a date, you’d laugh and say ‘Ask me tomorrow, Anakin’” cue the laughing, “so that’s what I did. Finally when you said yes, I felt like I was going to explode with excitement. After our first date, I just knew that I would love you forever, Padme.”

‘Cause it was us baby way before them.

The sun was softly shining through your curtains, you felt a hand brushing through your hair. Letting out a soft groan, the hand stopped, “Oh, please don’t stop on my account, Ani.” You looked up at him, a smile forming on his lips, “Good morning, angel.” You gave him a quick peck before saying good morning back, getting up to get ready for the day.

“So what’s the plan for today, Anakin?” You asked from the bathroom, picking up your toothbrush you applied tooth paste then proceeded to brush your teeth. Anakin’s arms suddenly wrapped around your torso, his chin resting on your head. “How about you go treat yourself, go shopping, maybe hang out with some friends, and when you come home, I’ll have dinner ready. How does that sound?” You pondered for a minute before nodding your head.

By the time you had arrived home, it was already 6:50pm. Unlocking the door, a delicious smell wafted from the kitchen. First you took off your shoes, leaving them by the door. Next came your jacket, hanging it on the coat rack. You snuck up behind Anakin, wrapping your arms around his neck. You could say sneaky snuggles were a daily thing in your relationship. “Whatcha cookin good lookin?” Anakin let out a snort, “Only the best for my girlfriend. How about you go sit down while I bring the food to the table.” You turned to the table, noticing everything was already set up. You took your seat just as Anakin laid down the meal. Chicken parmesan with homemade lasagna.

“Oh Ani, my favorite! You didn’t have to, what’s the occasion?” You squealed

“No reason, like I said, only the best for my girl.” He smiled, lifting up his wine glass, you mirrored his actions, “I’d like to make a toast dedicated to you, my lovely, beautiful, amazing girlfriend. I love you, forever.”

And I meant every word I said, when I said that I love you, I meant that I love you forever.

You were full on blushing now, “I love you too, Ani. A toast, to forever.” The two of you joined glasses, a clink echoed in the near quiet apartment.

You were awoken from your flashback by loud applause, did you just daydream during the remainder of the wedding? You turned to the old lady next to you, “Is it over?” She turned to look at you, appalled by your appearance but nodded nonetheless. “Oh am I crying,” awkward laugh, “I always cry at weddings..” You turned to look away and instead focused on the bride and groom newly wedded husband and wife making their way down the aisle. Both adorning smiles on their faces.

The guests were ushered outside near an open bar area. You were encouraged to take pictures but chose to watch the workers as they changed the venue from ceremony mode to reception mode. You noticed they kept most of the decorations, only adding circular tables and necessities. The lanterns now became centerpieces while the flowers scattered down the aisle were now randomly placed across the room. There was a long, rectangular table arranged in front of the white backdrop. Obviously for Padme and Anakin, along with their bridal party and family. You looked around quickly before leaving to go to the bathroom. Once there you took a deep breath and looked at yourself in the mirror. A gasp left your mouth, your looks were beyond atrocious. You closed your mouth before you could catch any flies and touched up your makeup.

Walking out of the bathroom you had nearly made it to the bar before you stumbled into somebody, “Hello there.” Seems like you couldn’t run away from your past, “Hello, Obi Wan. How are you?” After asking him, the two of you had spent the next fifteen minutes catching up on eachothers lives. Finally, the staff had announced that the tables were ready. Obi Wan promptly excused himself, now by yourself you went to go find your seat. To make your life easier, you went to the table where they had a list of names and where you could find your seat. You were sat at table three, pretty close to the front for someone who R.S.V.P.ed at the last second.

When you got to your table, you noticed there were already some people seated, none that you knew though. Sitting down, you began to mingle with your peers. Making small talk until the buffet was ready.

It took a while, but dinner was finally ready to start. You’d waited all day for this moment and you couldn’t wait. Once your table was dismissed, you got in line with a plate in your hand. The first thing you noticed was the variety, which was a good thing for you because you could eat to your heart's content. After making yourself a plate, you went back to your table to eat. You shoveled the delicious food into your mouth, hoping to get a second plate but you were interrupted by the clinking of glass. Toast time you thought to yourself, a frown upon your face. Darn, you were really keen on getting that second plate.

You zoned out during the toasts and eventually their first dance, all you could think about was getting out of this damn dress. You couldn’t wait to go home and take a hot shower while crying your eyes out. Coming back to the real world, you noted how everyone was standing up, crowding around Padme and Anakin as a cake was placed in front of them. Great, I really need to stop zoning out.

“Okay, before we continue with the cake cutting, I’d just like to say that not only is this cake to celebrate our marriage, but it’s also our gender reveal cake!” fuck, Fuck, FUCK..you really shouldn’t have come. God you’re so stupid, I mean why the fuck would would anyone think going to your exs wedding is a good idea. The room fell silent, anticipating the color of the cake. Gasps were let out when the piece of cake was shown. Pink and blue? Are they having- “Twins! We’re having twins!” Anakin shouted. You couldn’t breathe, you needed fresh air. You hurriedly stepped outside, choosing to sit down on a bench to try and collect your breath.

You must’ve been outside for a while because before you knew it, Anakin was sitting next to you. “What’re doing out here, Anakin? Shouldn’t you be inside dancing with your wife?” You asked.

“I wish..” Anakin scoffed, his eyebrows were furrowed deep in thought. “What do you mean? This is supposed to be the happiest day of your life. You just married the woman you love for crying out loud!” You protested.

Anakin let out a sigh, “Yeah, that’s just the thing. Padme was never supposed to get pregnant. We were never supposed to get married. The only reason why I proposed was because our agencies thought it would be good for our reputation.” This was some shocking news, you thought they truly loved each other. Well Anakin at least, you couldn’t speak for Padme.

“You know, the day after we broke up when I came to collect my belongings, I waited for you. I knew you were gone, waiting for me to finally leave. But I waited for you. For as long as I could.” You had no idea why Anakin was telling you this. Why would he bring something like this up… unless… no, it wasn’t possible.

When Anakin entered his your apartment, the first thing he noticed was how quiet it was. Sure, it was still morning, but you weren’t someone to sleep past 10 am. You had always enjoyed getting up early. It was before noon, so Anakin had just assumed you were out for brunch. He began to collect some of his belongings, only taking what was necessary. He didn’t want to take any of the pictures, just in case you missed him enough and wanted to longingly stare at them. So instead he took out his phone and took a photo of every picture he liked. The good, the bad, and the ugly; Anakin wanted to remember all of it. Entering your room, Anakin was quick to take what he needed. He almost left before he remembered the most important thing to him, his mother's ring. Anakin knew he couldn’t leave without so he went to find it. He searched high and low until he came across a box under the bed. Although the two of you were together, he never went through your things without permission. But Anakin was desperate, so he opened the box.

At first he was unsure of what he was looking at. Sure, the picture was simply black and white but he just couldn’t figure out what it was. Until his eyes drifted to the upper left hand corner, containing your full name, medical information, and the date. Was this what he thought it was? Were you pregnant? He took the ultrasound into his hands, forgetting about the ring.

He swore that at that very moment, he could’ve cried, and he did. What was he going to do now? He didn’t know if he should’ve waited for you to return or leave. On one hand he would be starting a family with you while on the other he would be following his dreams.

“So, you knew? That I was pregnant?” Anakin nodded his head, “..and you still chose to leave?” The words felt heavy on your tongue. “Believe me, I wanted to stay. For god's sake, y/n, I waited there for you. For HOURS! By the time I had to leave you still weren’t back. I had to choose between my passion and you. It wasn’t easy to make the decision, but you weren’t there and my future was awaiting me.” Anakin’s voice was quivering, it hurt him to think about this.

“Anakin, can I ask you a question?” Anakin nodded his head, motioning for you to go on. “The night we broke up, if I had told you that I was pregnant; would you have stayed?” His mouth opened as if he was going to answer, only for it to snap shut. Tears welled up in your eyes, you had your answer, “You know what, it doesn’t matter, it’s not like I kept the baby.” You shook your head, not wanting to cry in front of Anakin. You stood up, gathering your things and left without uttering another word to him. Everything he said to you was a lie, because if he had really loved you, he would’ve stayed.

And I'm gonna keep on loving you, because it's the only thing I wanna do.

By the time you had gotten home, you had much time to think. You’d spent the past five years dreaming of that exact moment. You would’ve told him you were pregnant, and in return he would’ve chosen to be with you. The two of you would get married and live a happy life with your children. But those dreams were shattered by the harsh reality. Anakin wouldn’t have stayed and he wouldn’t have married you.

Moving into the bathroom, you removed your makeup, seeing as it was ruined by your tears, again. Taking off your clothes, you hopped into the hot shower. You were going to cry but decided to give your eyes a rest since you had basically cried all the way home. After changing into your pajamas you creeped into your room.. Slowing making your way to bed, you got under the covers. Once you had almost fallen asleep, you felt something lay on your chest. You gently started stroking her hair, “Sorry, did I wake you, Shani?” you asked softly, a quiver in your voice.

“No, it’s okay momma. I was waiting for you to get home.” Her voice was quiet and delicate. “Are you okay momma?” Although she was barely five, she was a smart girl. She looked up, noticing your eyes were swollen. She must’ve heard the falter in your voice.

“Of course I am Ani, I’ve got my little angel with me.” She gently laid her head back down, her small arms doing their best to wrap around you. You continued stroking her hair until her breathing evened out, signalling she was asleep.

Soon after, you found yourself dozing off to the thought of what could’ve been.

I don't wanna sleep, I just wanna keep on loving you.

#Anakin Skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker imagine #Anakin Skywalker x Padme Amidala #Padme Amidala #obi wan kenobi #sw #star wars fanfiction #star wars imagine #star wars

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stareaten · 4 years

Text

pynch.

~5k words.

read on ao3 instead

Adam collects things. He clings to them; he hoards them.

You wouldn’t notice it at first, not with how logical and calculating he is, certainly not within the small space of Adam’s tiny apartment above St. Agnes filled with the mismatched, makeshift furniture, and surely not in the cluttered mess of the mismatched, makeshift desk where Adam is sitting, hunched over, and scribbling some shit about some fucking thing in one of his notebooks.

But because Ronan is Ronan, he starts catching up. He is lying sprawled on his back on Adam’s uncomfortable mattress, bored out of his mind. He left his headphones back at Monmouth and can’t be assed to go back to pick them up. Adam shows no intention on paying him any attention – at least not until he’s finished with whatever the fuck he’s working on – so Ronan decides to bother him just a bit. (It’s his philosophy notes he’s working on, Ronan knows it, because Ronan clings to everything Adam tells him. That’s why he knows it isn’t so important, because Adam knows it but still insists on being a giant, pain-in-the-ass nerd.)

Ronan rolls back onto his stomach and scoots closer to Adam’s desk, peering over his arm to try to understand Adam’s chicken scratch. He grabs one of the pens lying around and goes to write something – something stupid or sweet or rude or, considering he’s Ronan, all three at once – in the margin of the open notebook. He starts to write but the pen doesn’t work so he picks up another one. This time he manages to write one big letter before it runs out of ink. He scowls at the pen in an attempt to intimidate it into working, and then shakes it vigorously. When it still refuses to work, because apparently pens can feel no terror, he chucks it away and searches for another one. This one manages two more letters before dying out. Ronan frowns again, shakes it – again – and tries to press it more firmly into the paper before Adam’s hand comes up to grab at his wrist.

“Stop it,” Adam says without looking up from finishing his page, “you’re gonna tear the paper.”

“I wouldn’t have to tear your paper if you had a damn pen that works,” Ronan replies.

Adam says nothing, just flips the page and starts writing on the left side of the notebook, effectively stopping Ronan’s attempts at delinquency.

Ronan huffs. And picks up another pen. He manages to write a big capital A on the corner of the page before Adam elbows him in the face. Ronan rubs at his chin. “I was just testing to see if this one works.”

Adam hums. “They all work.”

“Like shit they do.”

“They all work in a pinch.”

“This is a pinch. And they don’t fucking work.”

“I would hardly call your attempts at desecrating my notes ‘a pinch’,” Adam says, nose still buried in said notes.

“It’s not desecrating if I make them more fun,” Ronan says.

Adam sighs. “Go be bored somewhere else.”

Ronan scowls, but lies back on the bed. He manages some good 10 minutes before picking up a crumbled up receipt from the floor and drawing more inappropriate things before the pen dies out.

***

Adam picks up empty yogurt cups Sargent leaves lying around the Barns and washes them out in the sink. He dries them with a kitchen towel, stacks them up and puts them in the cupboard above the microwave, where neither of them will actually be bothered to reach them.

“You can’t recycle them,” he says when Ronan tries to dump them in the trash. “Doesn’t mean you can’t use them again.”

“What for?” Ronan groans. “There are plenty of cups here. Plastic cups and glasses and cups that sing and cups that curse at you and whatever kind of cups your ass desires. Fuck, Parrish, I’ll dream you up another cup, just for you, which recites pluperfect of esse whenever you drink your gross fucking no sugar coffee out of it.”

Adam rolls his eyes. “We can use them for seedlings.”

“Right,” Ronan mutters. “Fucking seedlings.” But he sees Adam putting the yogurt cups up in the cabinet anyway.

***

Ronan visits Adam at college one weekend when Adam isn’t too busy studying and Declan is too busy to chew Ronan’s ass over one thing or another.

Adam wraps his arms around Ronan’s shoulders and releases a deep sigh.

“Fuck, Parrish,” Ronan says, rubbing his hand up and down Adam’s ribs. “You know freshman fifteen means you gain those pounds, not lose them, right?”

Adam huffs into his neck. “Guess you better learn how to cook then.”

Ronan groans and for a moment considers how difficult it would be to dream up a stove that makes any meal on its own. He would probably still end up eating pizzas anyway.

Adam’s dorm room is not big and Ronan knows which side of it is his as soon as he enters. There is a corkboard above his desk and Ronan leans closer to inspect everything that is pinned there while Adam changes out of his clothes.

There are receipts from the store and scrawled reminders for papers and homework and exams. There is a single black feather and a printed out picture of Gansey, Blue and Cheng standing in front of- some fucking monument Ronan didn’t care enough to remember the name of, Cheng’s ugly mug uncomfortably close to the camera. Gansey sent it to Ronan’s phone some time ago, but giving that Ronan only started actually checking his phone once Adam left for Harvard, it sat in the messages until Adam picked it up and grinned at it so hard that, one afternoon later, Ronan cursed and kicked and glared his old printer back to life in order to print it out. There is also a postcard Sargent sent him from Bumfuck, Nowhere just recently - Ronan can’t see the message on the back, but he knows who it’s from because he has a matching one sitting next to his computer, collecting dust so he can pretend it didn’t make his insides twist when he found it in the mail. (His personalized message only read ‘miss you, asshole – blue’ and he grinned before thinking better of it.)

And then there are… other pieces of trash. A bubblegum wrap and what appears to be a torn piece of post-it and one of those paper bracelets you get on those obnoxious student parties. There is a red solo cup right underneath it with two fugly red and white pens with Harvard logo sticking out of it. Ronan silently wonders if they even fucking work. There’s also a bunch of pamphlets stacked neatly on the edge of the desk and Ronan flips mindlessly through them. Fuck, he thinks, I’m in love with a hoarder.

He is quickly distracted from that thought by the aforementioned hoarder’s arms sliding around his middle. Adam kisses the back of his neck and then the soft spot under his ear, so Ronan has no choice but to turn around and kiss him senseless.

“Hi,” Adam breathes against his lips once they part, soft and quiet. His thumb gently massages the back of Ronan’s skull, while fingers of his other hand come up to trace Ronan’s cheekbone.

“Hi,” Ronan says, soft and quiet, because he loves Adam, loves him when he gets all pushy and hungry, loves him even more so when he gets soft and gentle and private and just for Ronan to see.

“I missed you,” Adam says and Ronan gets an excellent idea about moving Adam’s fingers closer to his lips but then there is a knock on the door and Adam’s hands fall away.

To his credit though, they don’t go very far. Adam takes a step back, but stays well within Ronan’s personal space, one of his beautiful hands resting on the inside of Ronan’s elbow. Ronan still scowls at the person knocking even before they enter the room.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Adam’s roommate says poking his head inside. “I just forgot to grab my notes.”

“No problem,” Adam replies, smiling politely. Ronan elects to stay silent this time.

The roommate leaves the door open as he moves to his side of the room, rummaging through his stuff, and Ronan almost groans when he sees another person standing in the doorway.

“Hey Adam,” the other boy says, nodding. “We’ll get out of your hair right away.”

Adam waves his arm dismissively. “It’s alright, really.”

Ronan would beg to fucking differ.

“Adam?” the roommate says and makes an apologetic face. “You wouldn’t happen to have some notes from the last Doyle’s class, would you?”

“From Wednesday morning class?” Adam frowns and lets go of Ronan’s arm to search through his own pile of notebooks. Ronan grits his teeth.

He doesn’t care to hear the rest of that conversation and instead turns to scowl at the boy at the doorway when he feels his eyes on the back of his neck. “What?” Ronan presses out.

The boy seems to remember himself as he stands up a bit straighter. “Sorry, just. You’re Adam’s boyfriend?”

“Yes,” Ronan say, frowning deeper.

“You’re the farmer?”

“Yes,” Ronan repeats and stuffs his fists into his pockets.

“Huh,” the guy says and leans on the doorway again. “Sorry, you’re just. Not what I expected. But that explains the jacket.”

“The jacket?” Ronan wonders how deeply he will have to twist his face in order to get this guy to leave.

“What do you grow?” the boy asks instead of explaining himself, in an attempt to be polite or rude or nosey or fucking annoying, see if Ronan cares which one. “On your farm?”

Ronan shrugs, feeling out of his depth and hating it. “Potatoes.”

“Potatoes?” the boy repeats, frowning like he’s never heard the word before.

“He’s Irish,” Adam suddenly says, grabbing at Ronan’s elbow. He looks at Ronan and there it is again, that private smile of his. Ronan has no choice but to deflate a little. “He thinks it’s funny.”

The guy at the door breathes out a short, fake laugh and Ronan hates him. But the roommate is already pushing him out and saying to Adam over his shoulder: “Thank you so much, Adam, for the notes, and sorry for bothering you again. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He smiles and then they're gone.

Ronan still scowls at the door.

“Sorry about that,” Adam says and he is already putting his hands back where they belong, kissing just under Ronan’s jaw. Understandably, Ronan loses the ability to think for quite a while.

It’s only when he is finally, finally removing his shirt over his head that he remembers to ask: “The jacket?”

“Huh?” Adam says intelligently, his sole focus on the button of Ronan’s jeans.

“The other guy. He mentioned your jacket.”

“Huh?” Adam repeats, but now he raises his head to look at Ronan. “Oh!” he says as his eyes light up with understanding. “I took your jacket. The old leather one.” He shrugs. “You were going to throw it away, didn’t think you’d care. Some of the guys were teasing me, said it didn’t fit my style – whatever they think my style is supposed to be – I told them I took it from you.”

“The one with the burnt sleeve?” Ronan frowns again. “Parrish, if you needed a new jacket…”

“I didn’t need it, okay?” Adam says and rolls his eyes. “It’s just a nice jacket and you didn’t want it anyway. Can we now stop talking about clothes and get back to removing them?” To prove his point, Adam lifts the edge of his own shirt and pulls it off, and every other thought Ronan might have had flies right away with it.

***

Opal runs across the pasture straight into Adam’s arms as soon as she hears his car coming around the corner. Ronan berates her for it (“Let him catch a breath, for fuck’s sake.”) if only because he didn’t get to do it first.

But Adam just smiles and lets Opal cling to him, crouches down to be at the same eye level. She pulls out a piece of colorful candy wrapper, half-eaten and sticky with spit and fuck knows what else, and holds it out for Adam to take. Ronan watches, amused, as Adam tries not to make a disgusted face and promptly fails at it.

“Thank you, Opal,” he still says, taking it from her. Opal beams at him.

And then Adam finally straightens up and turns around so that Ronan can wrap himself around him and kiss his temples.

“I have a trunk full of stuff to take upstairs,” Adam says in lieu of hello.

“You also have two perfectly working legs and arms to match, so I don’t know how that has anything to do with me,” Ronan replies into his hair.

Adam huffs a laugh. “Asshole.” He pinches Ronan’s side and Ronan pushes him away, feigning being hurt, before turning around and heading straight for the trunk of his shit car.

It’s much, much later that Adam drags him to the laundry room. Well. He doesn’t exactly drag him there. It’s more that Adam hoists up a bag full of dirty clothes and heads towards the laundry room and Ronan wordlessly follows him there, picking up a new box of washing powder from the pantry.

Adam starts talking about the last oral exam he had and it’s a testament to how much Ronan missed him that he doesn’t even make a crude joke about it, just leans against the washing machine and watches Adam empty the pockets of his pants, clinging to his every word. And for someone who is constantly giving Ronan shit about the state of his car, Adam sure does carry a lot of trash in his pockets.

He pulls out a piece of candy wrapper Ronan at first doesn’t even recognize as the one Opal gave him – its colors shifted now that it dried in Adam’s pocket – and he doesn’t even pause his story before straightening it and putting it in the back pocket of the jeans he is currently wearing. Ronan frowns, but stays silent.

***

It was Adam’s idea to clean out the closets in the first place. Ronan, understandably, groaned and rolled his eyes and kicked the floor and used very colorful language to express his disdain. He even promised to dream up a new closet, just for Adam and his bunch of shit, really, Parrish, you won’t even have to look at Ronan’s clothes ever again, he’ll make it so that it chews and spits out Ronan’s tank tops even if he puts them there by mistake, just please don’t make him spend another summer day holed up inside.

But Adam, ever the pragmatic, just shakes his head. “Where would you even put a new dresser? The room’s cluttered enough.”

Ronan considers giving him a very imaginative answer to that particular question, but realizes that he is still going to end up cleaning the closets anyway, only this way he won’t have to deal with both of them pissed off. Not that either of them ends up happy though. It’s an incredibly uninteresting and tiring chore, especially given the fact that ninety-nine percent of Ronan’s clothes is black – the remaining one percent being dark gray or somewhat lighter gray or, very rarely, deep dark blue – and it’s hard to recognize which of his tees are the ones good to keep and which ones are too tight or too ripped even for him to wear. After an hour or so he just ends up chucking them on two separate piles randomly.

He stays out of Adam’s stuff for quite a while, mostly because Adam has significantly less stuff than Ronan (not that anyone would guess it, given their respective fashion choices), but Ronan’s fucking boyfriend is as pedantic about this as he is about anything else. Adam holds up every item, squints at it for a second or two, and if he decides to keep it he folds it carefully on one of the piles he has around the room.

“Go find a box,” Adam says after Ronan sighs for the fifth time in a minute, idly pushing Adam’s stuff around.

Ronan frowns. “What for?”

Adam doesn’t look up from his pile of clothes. “So we can pack up some of the clothes you just tossed away and I can drive it to Goodwill on my way to Boyd’s.”

Ronan considers it for a moment and nods. Okay, maybe Adam has a point, so what. Doesn’t mean he won’t be difficult about it, since he’s still bored as hell. “What boxes?”

“In the small barn, bring the sturdy ones,” Adam replies, folding another t-shirt carefully.

Ronan stomps to the small barn, kicks some stuff around, comes back empty handed. “There isn’t one.”

Adam frowns. “There has to be at least a few. I left them there months ago.”

“Oh, those,” Ronan says, sarcastically, but is immediately hit with a flashback of one very boring afternoon when he and Opal decided to set shit on fire after Adam let him know he won’t be able to come that weekend after all, and Declan called to tell him he’s coming down for some shit or another and he and Ronan should get lunch. “I got rid of those,” he says, because he doesn’t lie but also isn’t too keen on explaining Adam what exactly happened to them.

Adam closes his eyes and sighs. “Well, there’s gotta be at least one box around here somewhere.”

Ronan shrugs. “I’ll check the long barn.”

He manages to find two cardboard boxes, similar enough in sizes. He brings them all the way to the porch before thinking better of it and bringing them back so he can dust them off first. When he finally hauls them upstairs, he finds Adam frowning at a pair of jeans.

“I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt,” he drawls as he watches Ronan drop the boxes at his feet, “and assume you know what kinda clothes are good for donation.”

“Fuck you,” Ronan says, which roughly translates to I’ll go through all my shit again and throw the good ones in the shittier looking box, and then he gets to it with just as much enthusiasm as before. Adam says nothing, but Ronan sees one corner of his mouth lifting into a very rude smile.

It must have been hours, days, weeks, fucking years later that they finally manage to sort the old but wearable clothes into the donation boxes (it’s mostly stuff Ronan doesn’t want to wear and Adam doesn’t want to steal from him, and then some stuff of Adam’s that do not fit him right anymore) and the unwearable clothes into trash bags. It’s certainly been long enough that Adam decides they deserve a break.

“Come on,” he says, offering his hand to Ronan who’s sitting on the floor, his legs splayed out. “There’s some ice cream in the freezer.”

Ronan squints up at him, suspicious. “Since when?”

Adam rolls his eyes. “Since the other day when I came from Boyd’s while you were busy chasing goats away from the long barn.” He wiggles his fingers a little. “Unless you want to keep cleaning.”

“You kept ice cream from me for three days?” Ronan huffs, but still takes his hand and lets Adam pull him up.

“It’s not hiding it if you never think to check the freezer,” Adam replies, because he has to be a smartass about everything. Ronan forgives him as soon as the ice cream is out and it’s the kind that Ronan likes the best but rarely when buys because Adam prefers a different one.

Ronan fills two mugs – cause they have a shit ton of those, but no clean bowls apparently – with the ice cream and brings them out to the porch where Adam is already sitting on the stairs facing the pasture. He hands him his mug and Adam leans up to press a chaste kiss to his cheek.

They sit in silence broken only by soft clicking of spoons against ceramic and crickets singing in the grass. The sun is setting behind the woods surrounding the Barns, coloring the sky red and pink and orange. Adam presses his leg against Ronan’s wordlessly and Ronan leans into him until their shoulders brush. Sometimes Ronan thinks he could stay like this forever, just feeling Adam’s body calm and relaxed against his, sharing the quiet between them without a care in the world. He wishes he could somehow freeze the moment and tuck it into his back pocket to look at it later, when Adam’s away and his side of the bed is cold.

“You know we still have to put the clothes away, right?” Adam asks nudging his knee with his own.

And sometimes, Ronan just wants to fucking kill him.

Instead of dignifying that with a response, he leans forward and licks Adam’s cheek.

“Eww,” Adam says, pushing at him playfully. “Real mature.”

“You had some ice cream on your face,” Ronan replies. “Couldn’t let it go to waste.”

“Gross,” Adam says, standing up and rubbing his hand against Ronan’s scalp.

Ronan follows him inside begrudgingly.

Once the boxes are out of the way, putting away the clothes is going much faster than sorting it out, albeit it’s not any less boring – for one part because Ronan doesn’t care where exactly in the closet his clothes end up and Adam is too busy organizing his own to berate him for just bunching up a handful of tank tops and stuffing them on the second highest shelf.

Once done, Ronan looks around the room to make sure nothing is left lying around when he spots one of Adam’s tees lying on the bed. He picks it up and sees that it’s threadbare, with a hole in the front and pieces of thread hanging from the sleeves.

“Hey, Marie Kondo,” Ronan calls, “you forgot this one.”

“The fact that you know who she is takes a significant part out of the insult,” Adam says, returning back to the room.

“Everyone knows who she is.” Ronan glares for good measure, even though he knows Adam is immune to it, and balls the tee in his hand, already reaching for a trash bag with his other, before Adam stops him.

“No, wait.” He grabs at the hand holding the tee. “I’m keeping that one.”

Ronan frowns. “It’s shit.”

“So is a good portion of your wardrobe,” Adam replies. “Give me.”

“My shirts at least don’t fucking look like moths had a dinner party,” Ronan says. “I’m throwing this out.”

“It’s my t-shirt,” Adam says, frowning deeply. “You can’t throw it away.”

“Watch me,” Ronan says and raises his hand higher in an attempt to get out of Adam’s reach.

Adam doesn’t attempt to reach anymore, though. He just crosses his arms over his chest and now Ronan knows he’s really upset. “Why are you being such a dick about it?”

Ronan’s frown deepens. “You were giving me shit about tidying up all day and now you’re giving me shit about throwing away an old t-shirt?”

Adam’s jaw clenches. “Sorry we can’t all afford to have twenty Tom Fords in our closets, Lynch.”

“You have a wardrobe full of shit, Parrish. This one’s basically see-through.” Ronan raises the tee in front of his face to prove his point.

Adam snatches it away. “It’s mine,” he says and turns back to the closet.

Ronan watches him as he folds the old t-shirt, his back tense and shoulders up to his ears. “Whatever, Parrish,” he says and takes the last trash bag outside.

***

Ronan can’t sleep. Which is nothing new, to be perfectly honest. He kicks the covers to the foot of the bed and gets up to piss. On his way back he pulls his t-shirt off and throws it in some corner of the room or the other. He glances at Adam’s back before climbing back to bed next to him.

There is no way Adam is asleep while it’s hot as balls, not while the sheets keep sticking to their skin every time they move, not while his body is wound so tight he would probably jump out of bed and straight through the window if Ronan touched him.

Fine, Ronan thinks. If Adam intends to stay pissed at him for no fucking reason whatsoever, who is Ronan to stop him. Adam always does what he wants, when he wants, anyway. Leaves when he wants, can leave Ronan behind if he wants, leaves Ronan feeling like shit over something he doesn’t even know he’s done wrong.

Ronan punches his pillow into, truthfully, no more comfortable lump than before and turns to lie on his back. He can hear the owl hooting outside. There is no fucking wind. Ronan rubs the heel of his hand against his right eye, but doesn’t curse out loud.

“It’s what I was wearing,” Adam says suddenly, his voice carefully neutral, “back then.”

Ronan considers this for a moment. “What?”

Adam stays silent for a moment before curling into himself a bit more. “Nothin’,” he mutters. “Forget it.”

Ronan frowns, thinks back to the fucking t-shirt now lying somewhere in the closet. “You were wearing it when?”

He hears Adam exhale slowly. “When you first kissed me.”

Oh, Ronan thinks. He lets the words sink in, but he can’t find anything good to say. “That’s why you didn’t want to throw it away?” It comes out more as a question than an explanation.

“Yeah.” Adam swallows. “No.”

Ronan stays silent, at a loss as to what to do. He wants to reach for Adam, pull him close and kiss away whatever it is troubling his mind. He wants to hold his hand and feel at ease. But he knows Adam would only just pull away now. So he waits.

Adam takes a breath before slowly rolling over onto his back and staring at the ceiling. “I didn’t have much growing up,” he says, and, no shit, Ronan still remembers the meager backpack and a cereal box Adam carried out of that fucking trailer years ago, remembers carrying the duffel bag and thinking ‘this is Adam’s whole life here’, remembers being careful not to bang it against anything.

“I had to take care of things if I wanted to have them for longer,” Adam continues, “cause once they were gone, they were gone. And even if something breaks, you keep it, because you can always reuse it in a pinch. Like the pens.” He swallows. “I can’t write an essay with an empty pen, but sometimes I can write down an important phone number or a reminder. A broken thing is still better than no thing at all, right?”

Ronan sneaks a look at Adam and finds that his eyes are firmly closed even as he continues.

“And if you gotta spend money, you want evidence of what you spent it on, so it doesn’t just disappear one day without you noticing." He pauses. "You want to make sure that the thing was real, y’know.”

And oh. Oh, Ronan thinks, there it is. “Adam,” he whispers gently and slides his hand across the sheets to find Adam’s. Because Ronan would know a thing or two about wanting to stick to something so badly, about being so scared of losing the one good thing he has, about being terrified it wasn’t even real to begin with.

Adam rolls his head from side to side, rubbing at his forehead with his other hand, but he lets Ronan entwine their fingers. “I know it’s stupid,” he says.

“Kinda is,” Ronan says. Tries for humor: “Glad to know that I’m not the only stupid one in this relationship.” Fails.

Adam rolls his head again, doesn’t open his eyes.

Ronan shifts until he’s lying on his side. “Hey,” he says quietly and leans forward to kiss Adam’s shoulder. “You’re not planning on getting rid of me, are you?”

“No,” Adam answers and finally blinks his eyes open. “Of course not.” He sighs and turns to face Ronan. “It’s just-,” he stops himself, swallows, tries again. “I’m happy. I’m so impossibly happy, Ronan, and one part of me keeps waiting for everything to be taken away from me.” He kicks the cover off with his legs. “Old habits die hard, I guess.”

Ronan wants to say something. He wants to say you’ll always have me, and if it’s up to me, you’ll never lack anything ever in your entire life, and I don’t want you to worry ever again, and I want you to have everything, and I love you so much it hurts sometimes. But Adam is smart, the smartest person Ronan knows. Adam knows all this already. Some scars just take longer to heal. Some scars just never completely heal. Ronan would know a thing or two about that, too.

So Ronan just scoots closer, heat be damned, and lets Adam hide his face into his neck.

***

Ronan dreams up a pen that never runs out of ink and puts it in Adam’s messenger bag while he’s working at Boyd’s. He debates dreaming up a pencil case when he realizes Adam doesn’t have one, then debates buying one from Amazon like any other asshole would, but then decides that Adam wouldn’t let him get away with that. He got better at accepting gifts from Ronan, though. It’s more that Ronan would be compelled to buy something ugly or funny or ridiculous – like that disgusting one shaped like a dead fish – and Adam would refuse to take it to classroom.

Adam washes out yogurt cups and ice cream containers, and Ronan dries them with a kitchen towel before turning around and using it to smack Adam’s ass with it. Adam cusses him out and chases him around. They both somehow end up in a laughing heap on the floor.

One night, Adam takes a cardboard box out of the closet and sits it on the bed before beckoning Ronan over. He takes out pieces of papers and shit and tells Ronan stories for every single one. Ronan recognizes a few of the items instantly: scraps of candy wrappers and dry leaves from Opal, a flower Ronan took out of his dreams while he was still building Lindenmere, one half of a watch band with teeth marks on it, another postcard from Blue.

Then there is a piece of wrap from a chewing gum Adam’s college friend gave him on his first night there. There is a movie ticket from a screening of some boring ass movie they had to see for one of their classes, when Adam and his roommate were the only ones in the theater and they ended up laughing so hard they were sick. There is a safety pin one of Adam’s classmates gave him to temporarily fix a shirt when he accidentally tore it right before his big presentation in the class.

Ronan knows every one of these stories already, Adam telling him everything over the phone, but he still soaks in every single word Adam says. He never realized before that Adam kept mementos. He realizes that, yes, these little scraps make the stories a tiny bit more real.

There is also an old, beaten to shit notebook which Ronan recognizes as Adam’s old Latin notebook and, sure enough, when Adam flips the pages there are profanities written in Ronan’s handwriting on the margins of the pages.

Next time he visits Adam, he takes him out for lunch, and Ronan pockets the receipt before leaving the restaurant. Back in Adam’s room, he scribbles something on the back of it – having found a working pen on the first try – and stuffs it in Adam’s pocket while hugging him goodbye.

(Ronan also happens to leave his hoodie under Adam’s pillow. Adam doesn’t ask, Ronan doesn’t lie.)

Adam comes home for the winter break hauling more dirty clothes and a bookshop worth of notebooks. He spots Ronan’s addition to the room right away, but waits until he deposits the bags so he can put his hands on his hips judgmentally. “This is new,” he says.

Ronan shrugs. He watches wordlessly as Adam crosses the room to carefully slide his hand across the big wooden chest. Its honey color is still shining faintly, and its hinges are golden. (It’s the third one he’s made, but Adam doesn’t have to know that. The first two were so goddamn awful that all the evidence of them was quickly destroyed, this time no thanks to Opal.)

“And you didn’t think we have room for another dresser,” Ronan says, just to be a smartass.

Adam doesn’t fall for it this time. “It’s beautiful, Ronan.”

Ronan crosses the room to stand closer to him. “Figured you’d need something sturdier.”

“Hmm?” Adam hums, still admiring the chest.

“You know,” Ronan says, and stuffs his hands into his pockets. “Your box is good and all, but it’s cardboard. It won't last much longer, not if you keep adding shit to it, and you’ll run out of space. And I know Opal keeps giving you fucking rocks, whatever, it’s your fucking fault for enabling her, but she-,”

Adam cuts him off by grabbing his face with both of his hands and kissing him, deeply and roughly. “Thank you,” he breathes against Ronan’s lips before diving in for another kiss.

***

Ronan considers the possibility that his boyfriend has some weird ass tidying up kink (and then promptly considers the possibilities of using that to his advantage) because Adam’s barely been home for three days before Ronan finds him decluttering their room. But apparently it’s just, no, Lynch, we’re already hauling stuff out so we can repaint the room so it’s only logical to go through the shit we don’t need anymore. Maybe it’s pragmatism kink. Or competency kink. (Fuck, does Ronan have competency kink?)

Ronan watches as Adam dumps a handful of pens into a trash can, follows those with candy wraps and a broken pieces of plastic from fuck knows what. Ronan joins him by throwing out three empty glue sticks, a pair of broken scissors, more fucking yogurt cups (which Ronan won’t ever admit drinking out of because he couldn’t be assed to wash out any of three hundred glasses lying around the sink). He gets bored quickly enough, and he doesn’t want to throw out anything Adam might want to keep, so he settles on hauling furniture out of the room. Adam teases him about showing off, but Ronan doesn’t miss the way Adam checks him out, his eyes catching on Ronan’s exposed arms, so fuck you, Parrish, I win.

“Hey, what’s this?” Ronan says picking up a ball-up piece of fabric lying on top of a trash can, before he recognizes it.

Adam comes to stand next to him. “You were right,” he says, and some other time Ronan might have been smug about those words coming from him. “It’s shit. And I don’t need it anymore.”

Ronan looks at the t-shirt in his hands, pokes a finger through the hole on its front. “No, you don’t need it.”

“I can kiss you whenever I want now,” Adam reasons, and leans forward to kiss Ronan’s shoulder to prove his point.

Ronan turns his head to press a kiss to Adam’s hair. “Maybe you could keep this one, though,” he says, too nonchalant to be anything but. “It kinda grew on me.”

Adam smiles up at him.

Yeah, Ronan thinks, some things are worth clinging onto.

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highfunctioningflailgirl · 4 years

Text

My Lethal White episode 1 recap

After having had a lot of fun recapping episode 2, I went back and did episode 1 as well. It got a bit out of hand and is a loooong post...

Under the cut, because, evidently, there will be ALL THE SPOILERS! 🚨

*SQUEEEEE!!!* THEY’RE BACK!!! 🤗💃🏻🙌🏼 (Yes, I’m still squeeing, although this is a rewatch)

Let’s look at the title sequence, shall we? They’ve added a few new details: There’s the wooden cross from the dell, the White Horse of Uffington and Robin’s Houses of Parliament guest pass. The child from Billy’s memories and the pink blanket. Someone’s already mentioned the ‘whore’ swirling in the coffee cup, and then later we have a fencing icon in the pint. Cool hints. 😎

Cut to tired, head-achy Cormoran at the wedding. Strike has a slightly different haircut, and I wonder: they dye Tom’s hair darker for the role, but he has a glint of natural first grey at the temples that I’ve seen on Tom pre-Strike. How did they keep that? (Sorry about the hair kink digression…☺️)

Pet peeve of mine they carried over from Career of Evil: in the book, Donald Laing slashes Strike’s palm, but it didn’t happen in the series. There was no blood on his hand when he called Robin, and his glove was intact. And yet, Strike has his hand bandaged. I know it’s a silly pet peeve of mine, but stuff like that pulls me out of the moment. And Strike wouldn’t slap on a bandage just for a little bruising. *steps off soap box*

“You look beautiful.” - “And you look terrible.” - “It’s this jacket, needs taking in.” 😂

“I want you back.” - “What?” Augh, the double meaning of it all, Strike’s softness and Robin’s initial uncertainty of what he means. 🥺

When she realizes that Matt deleted Strike’s messages, there’s a tear spilling from her eye, and she quickly wipes it away. 😢 Such good acting. Such a brave girl.

A few of us have already addressed this in the chat: did Matt BLOCK Strike, or delete his calls and messages? Or both? They’re frustratingly unclear about this detail, and it makes a difference in terms of Strike being able to reach her or not. (I’m a continuity nerd, sorry)

Sarah standing next to Matthew. *gags*

Robin looks so beautiful! And so very sad. (Holliday is acting her heart out of this season, can’t say it enough). This is award material, hands-down. 🏆

Her look across the room at Cormoran while they’re eating! And he’s… just been staring at her all through the meal? Good god. These two.

If Cormoran falls asleep before dessert he’s got to be really, REALLY tired.☺️ Poor baby.

We’ve got to work on your fine dining skills, Cormoran darling! It’s very cowboy and rugged, handling cutlery like that, but you would SINK during an aristocracy under-cover op. Maybe the Comte de la Fère is available for a lesson?

The first chords of The Calling’s “Wherever you will go”. Ack. They really went for the original, and as someone who’s always been ridiculously in love with that cheesy song, I AM HERE FOR IT.

Cormoran walking slow-mo past the bridesmaids, looking at Robin dancing with Matt The Twat. My heart…💔

When I’m gone you’ll need love to light the shadows on your face… *sniff*

Cormoran’s FACE during the dance. I can’t. He looks like a puppy about to get shot. 🥺

(and what a juxtaposition to the little lady with the funny hat bobbing happily next to him, to everyone looking awww and being completely ignorant of the drama that’s playing out. Ugh. I’m dead.)

Matthew moves like someone who’s (painstakingly) learned exactly one (1) dance, and for their wedding only, and why is he even smiling so proudly? They must’ve just had the biggest row in history? Is he really so full of himself?

Even Robin is smiling, although staring longingly at Strike. I bet they did that so Strike would be a little mad at her and want to walk away.

AND HE DOES! 😟 You can just see the “Fuck this” from the book crossing his face as he turns around and leaves. Ack. I’m dead again.

If I could then I would, I’ll go wherever you will go

(Perfectly placed, kudos) 👏🏼

And she runs after him, looking like a fairy-tale princess. Did you see how frigging COLD it must’ve been, judging by her breath?! Poor Holliday must have been freezing to death during the shoot. And then to pull off such a heartbreaking scene…

(Also, the lawn in the park? A shitload of rolled sods. No grass looks this lusciously green in winter, and you can see the edges everywhere. Some landscaper had a field day there!)

“Are you sure?” - “Yeah. I am.” About WHAT, you idiots?! *wrings hands* To her coming back to work, of course, but there’s so much more to their statements. And I’m sure that non-book-readers thought they were about to kiss and elope, but - alas! - we know that’s not going to happen.😔

But at least we get The Hug™️, and it’s everything we hoped for: Robin crying, digging her fingers into his jacket; Cormoran closing his eyes… God help us, we are all DOOMED sailing this ship! 🙈💔

I was a little miffed upon first watching that they faded out of that hug so quickly. That was it? No, it wasn’t, as we now know, and I love, love, love that we’re getting all these extended flashbacks that reveal more and more of what happened to us!

ONE BLOODY YEAR LATER (I still can’t get over that time jump)

Lol at the subcontractor crashing his moped into the cab! It was only briefly mentioned in the book, and turning it into an actual dialogue was a fun idea.😂

And there’s Denise (that IS her, right?), completely uninterested in doing her job. Good grief - Strike and Robin are BAD a picking employees! 🙈

Robin looking not-jealous-at-all at Strike walking off with Lorelei. Ouch.

I like Lorelei, btw. They chose the actress well, and she’s nice and mature. Which doesn’t mean that I’m not secretly flinching every time she kisses Cormoran. It’s just not right.

Billy. Joseph Quinn does an incredible job playing him. 👏🏼 As dangerous as he appears at first, his despair and his efforts at holding himself together are heartbreaking. That battle he wages against his mental illness is on full display, and his scared big eyes are killing me. 🥺

Cormoran is admirably unfazed by Billy’s appearance - is that his Army training kicking in? Robin, though, is shaking but braving it out, recording with her phone although her hands are trembling. Good acting by Holliday.

Good riddance, Denise.

The good ole’ pencil trick. “I didn’t know people still did this.” 😌

I was surprised that Cormoran chose to simply break into the house on Charlemont road. It’s breaking and entering for no good reason. Could’ve been anybody’s home.

He’s not going to- EWW! He’s sitting down on that filthy couch. And plucking hairs from it. EWW!🤢

Robin: “...and some porn.” 😂 Says it as if it’s what they always find. The usual. Men… 🙄

Who’s the guy taking pictures of Cormoran? I seriously don’t remember this from the b- Oh, WAIT! Reporter guy. Patterson. Yeah. Him.

The CORE members are as cliché in their looks as are Chiswell’s upper class folks. It’s all a bit on the nose for my taste, but then clichés are clichés for a reason.

Cormoran needs to work on his disguises. Not fitting in at all with the CORE crowd, age-wise or in his look. No wonder they don’t trust him. He does it better in the books.

Oh Robin. I actually think you need a lot more therapy to work through your shit.

Ah, here we go. Seaborn bacteria. But first, Matt’s got to be a prick again. 🙄

Chiswell with his arrogance and his rudeness and his finger-snapping. *shakes head* I think if Cormoran hadn’t known he could make some serious money with this case, he may have walked out on him.

Btw, the “large” jacket is making Strike look slimmer instead of bigger. 😄 They’re so desperately mentioning Strike’s largeness, as if beating it over our heads could actually make us not see barely-6-foot and slender Tom Burke.

“Couple more potatoes wouldn’t hurt.” And his FACE! 🥰

Glenister is a really good actor. I always listen to the Strike audiobooks that he narrates, and I was worried hearing his voice in the show would be confusing, but it’s not because he sounds so different. Can’t wait for him reading “Troubled Blood” to me! 🎧

Is it a coincidence that Drummond’s art gallery has a painting of a horse in its front window? I think not.

I love that soft blue shirt they put Cormoran in. Makes him look very huggable. *blushes*

“Not sure I would make a convincing goddaughter either.”😂

So in England you can just walk up to a minister’s house and ring the doorbell without any security people stopping you? Interesting.

Chiswell just shutting the door in Cormoran’s face. RUDE.😠

The brown contact lenses. 👀 Okay, they make her look different, but not THAT different. It’s her sudden posh accent that’s the real stunner.

The panic attacks. Holliday plays them so well, I almost feel like I can’t breathe myself. 😧

I was expecting the Houses of Parliament to look a little less like a stuffy basement full of old junk. *ducks*

Barclay! Definitely looking more attractive than his description in the book. And I thought I’d gotten food at understanding Scottish. I haven’t. *turns subtitles on*

Izzy is the only Chiswell offspring who doesn’t make me want to immediately vomit.

“Venetia. Like the blinds.” Oh God. 🙈

Winn is such a creep. 🤮 Poor Robin. GET AWAY FROM HER YOU LEECH!

Of course Matt doesn’t want Robin to wear the Green Dress. Twat.🙄

The house warming party. I always wonder why Robin doesn’t have friends of her own. I have a feeling Matt has something to do with that.

The earrings. So we will see Robin finding out Matt’s cheating on her! I can’t wait for her to rip him a new one! 😈

Robin calls Cormoran - and it’s not Coco but Lorelei who picks up. That’s a smart change from the book. And it makes her the rebound girl. Which she doesn’t deserve, but it is what it is.

“And she bakes.” 🥴 Is it just me wondering how Lorelei got that cake into the tin without ruining the icing?!

Flashback to The Hug™️. God, their faces are so close. Cormoran is so soft. Nnnnhhhggggg.

Enter the plaid shirt. Lumber!Cormoran is a good look on him! 😍

The Armchair of Sadness™️. Of course that’s where the devastating phone call to Robin’s house happens! The disbelief and disappointment on Cormoran’s face is heart rending. 😢💔

@lulacat3 and I have already established the continuity error with Cormoran’s facial injuries suddenly missing when he’s reached the pub. (And they should still be there; he’s still wearing the plaid shirt from that same evening.) If I were the makeup person I would have been deeply regretful of having missed dabbing fake injuries on Tom’s face again.

The Uffington Horse. Robin’s in appropriate Wellingtons, weather jacket and a beanie for their outing. Cormoran is wearing what he always wears, and Tom clearly wishes he had a beanie. At least he gets to wear a t-shirt under his eternally blue shirts this season. REVOLUTION! 😄

Sure. Let’s just go and dig for a corpse with a shovel so conveniently available! Just the two of them - one delicate Robin and one invalid. And then Robin finds the bones after ten seconds of digging. No further comment. 🙄

But I like the change with Cormoran’s leg. As stupidly heroic as he acted in the book, I like it better in the show where he has to acknowledge his handicap and Robin takes charge.

The bones. Dun-dun-DUN!

(Good first episode, although all in all the pacing wasn’t quite right yet, and compared to the book it all felt a bit rushed. I liked episode two better.)

#lethal white #cormoran strike #lw #lethal white episode 1 #cb strike #bbc strike #spoiler alert 🚨

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birdsaesthetic · 3 years

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Jeller babysitting Tasha’s baby for a day! (Problematic and cozy xD)

“If he cries, try to feed him or play with him—I’ve already prepared everything in his bag; here you can find his food and some of his toys. You can also find extra pajamas and diapers, though he’s all clean now and I hope he stays this way for as longer as possible.” Tasha, in a hurry, explained to Jane as she handed her her baby at the doorway—the daycare had a temporary closure today and so Tasha couldn’t think of anyone of her friends who could be trusted and did have experiences with taking care of a baby except for Jane and Kurt.

Jane nodded in acknowledgment with a genuine smile, then Tasha continued, “He can walk by now, maybe unsteadily, but if you hold his hands on yours and encourage him, he will feel more confident.”

“Tasha! I got this. Now you gotta go.” Jane gently pushed her backward, otherwise she didn’t seem to actually go therefore she might be later for work.

“Okay, umm, it’s almost his napping hour now, so he might want to sleep. And, last thing, if he cries so badly, like hysterically, just give me a call, okay?”

Jane, again, nodded with a smile, “Okay! don’t you worry. Be assured that he’s going to be fine with me.” Jane said, to which Tasha thanked her repeatedly, waved goodbye to her baby—almost a toddler by now—and then rushed outside the building and into the Uber, which had been waiting for her.

The genuine smile was still on Jane’s lips, as if glued, when she closed the door behind her. Tasha, even though in a hurry, she couldn’t just easily go without making sure her little one was secure. She’d also seemed really sad to be apart from him, who became the light of her life now, like a miracle from God.

Next Jane walked the few paces toward the living room, holding the little one in her arms. He maintained quiet, his eyes discovering his new surroundings. She put his bag aside then sat down on the couch then, holding him up so they were facing each other, she whispered to him, “Hey, Scotty!” She couldn’t resist his adorable, little face and so she grinned widely before which he blinked several times, seemingly trying to recognize her face.

He had grown so significantly in compression to the last time she’d seen him, which had been a few months ago. Now he looked much healthier, thriving even, after gaining some weight. His eyes were dark brown and he had the tiniest of noses and Jane bent forward to give it a peck.

After a short moment, Scott sort of began to frown, and Jane feared that since he wasn’t really familiar with her face it might cause him to reject her by crying out loud at any given moment. And just as the thought came across Jane’s mind, the little one, between her hands, actually began to fight her firm grip and the following seconds he was already crying aloud. His cries, by every passing second, became more intense, more fractious, as if he was in pain or something.

Jane tried to quieten him; she stripped off his outer sweater—which she thought was unnecessarily thick and seemed to be suffocating him—then stood up on her feet and wandered with him in her arms around the apartment, shushing him as she did so. But all that had been no use. He was persistently still crying.

“It’s okay, it’s okay! You’re a good boy, aren’t? Huh? How about a nap? Do you wanna nap? Huh?” Jane said in whispers, and though there was no plausible way he could understand what she just said, she swore his cries got louder at the words. God, how could a tiny creature make such loud noises? It sounded like the screeching of an angry cat, only growing harsher and louder as she tried her best to subsided him!

Helpless, she held him up in the air and looked up at his balled up red face by now. His eyes were frantically searching the room for a familiar face, but when they landed on Jane’s face, his little mouth stretched wide and the cries became unbearably louder.

Jane squeezed her eyes closed at how overwhelmed she felt at this point, then, still holding him in her arms as he cried nonstop, struggled to squirm out of her arms, and waved his small fists in the air, she reached for her cell phone, which was near her sight on the couch. But just when she was scrolling through the phone in her recent contract in search of Tasha’s number, his fists, small yet surprisingly strong, caught her square in the nose and simultaneously she lost her balance and the phone fell down.

Cursing under her breath, Jane kept a firm grip on his middle with an arm as she hunched over to grip the phone from the floor, and by now he was thrashing and wriggling like a particularly chubby eel, his cries only broke by him gasping for breaths in-between.

“Shush, Scotty, here, we’re gonna call mom now. Do you wanna call mom? Huh?” She tried to get his attention by showing him the phone as she tried yet again to search his mother’s number on the phone, which actually worked; she got his attention just about easily by doing so. Soon the harsh cries softened to snuffles. Possessively

he took the phone from her and began discovering it himself with eyes brimmed with tears and quivering lips—but most importantly he wasn’t crying now!

Catching her breath, Jane let him do so. Then she settled down on the couch with him, picked up his bag, took out his mini blanket, and tenderly laid him down over her lap to get him to sleep. He made some noises, fussed a little, but then eventually and finally he was asleep. She covered him with the blanket and, biting her lips, she took the phone between his hands as carefully as she could.

Now she could sigh in relief. It was so quiet. His breathing was merely audible, which sounded nice, knowing he was breathing. Alive. Jane gazed down at his sleeping face, her fingertips brushing softly against his hair to fix its pattern in one side. Next her fingertips outlined his ear which felt so smooth.

After some time, the door was opened and there was Kurt emerging through it with many bags of groceries hanging in his both hands. “Hey,” he greeted, stumbling on his way to the kitchen so he could put the groceries away. Jane watched him do so as she greeted him back with a low voice that Kurt hadn’t probably heard it. After having done that, Kurt, panting, approached her with easey footsteps. “He’s already here!”

“Yeah,” she smiled tiredly. By now Kurt had reached her sitting on the couch, and when he bent over so he could kiss the little one, Jane recoiled back with Scott on her lap. “No, Kurt, please don’t kiss him or anything. He just barely slept after crying so badly.” Her forehead creased in a plea so he would do as told. Then, at seeing him seemingly disappointed, she rushed to say, “But I could use a kiss right now.”

Kurt cupped her face in his hands then caressed her cheeks ever so tenderly before giving her a kiss that made her hum in contentment when he pulled slowly back. A huge smile spread across her face as she maintained looking up at him. “Thank you,” she whispered, before which he settled down next to her on the couch with a deep groan that made her head turn fully in his direction. “What?” She asked with a very concerned expression on her face, but he only shifted and shook his head. “Nothing.”

“Hey! Tell me,” she insisted, and her hand made its way up to be squeezing his rigid shoulder in encouragement, after having been resting upon Scott like a feather.

“It’s just...” he trailed off, and she awaited him to say something with big, worried eyes. A second passed, two, three....“Kurt!”

“I’m just, umm,” he looked up, his eyes angled over high, “very, very hungry right now.”

Jane’s hand, the one that had been over his shoulder reassuring him, now pushed him hard. But then, one second later, unable to keep the hint of how funny that was, both sniggered, before Jane admitted that she was actually hungry too—it was already passed their normal lunch time. Kurt made room on the couch where Jane lifted sleeping Scott up from her lap then laid him there. Then together they headed toward the kitchen and began making simple lunch. Carrot and sweet potato soup with toast aside. It was very delectable, easy to make and fulfilling. Kurt had always called it The Autumnal Soup. Because its color was as orange as the falling leaves during Autumn.

When they were halfway through eating and exchanging pleasantries, Scott started making slight noises, though Jane heard him and simultaneously dropped her spoon then jumped to her feet. “Let me,” But Kurt was even faster; he went straight to check on him. He was totally fine though, his chubby cheeks peeking outward as he waved his arms for the pick-up he knew was coming. “Hey Scotty! It’s uncle Kurt, do you remember me?” Kurt patted the top of his head, before he hoisted him high in his arms.

Jane smiled as she approached them. “You know, Tasha says that he can walk by now.”

“Really! Can you show us that, Scott?” Kurt pretended to sound impressed, looking down at the little one, who made a sound like a giggle.

“Maybe after he eats!”

With Kurt having already seated Scott safely in Bethany’s high chair with the tray, Jane served him oatmeal mixed with milk in one of Bethany’s colorful bowl shaped like a fish. They really expected him to start eating by himself once they handed him a spoon, but it wasn’t until he made a whole mess and treated both the spoon and bowl as toys that they took everything away from him and alternatively began feeding him themselves.

He bounced up and down on the chair, opening his mouth to the fullest before every spoon got into it with his hands clapping in enthusiasm. He was a really good boy, responsive and smart.

“Do you remember when Bee was his age?” Jane asked calmly, her gaze maintained on Scott as he chewed his food.

“Back then in Colorado? Of course I do. She was still so little though.”

“Now she's five years old and a bonnie angel.”

“Ohhh yeah! And, if Scotty eats his food, he is going to grow up so fast just like Bethany did, right?”

“Definitely!” Jane agreed cheerfully just before she placed another spoonful of food into his mouth. His eyes opened a little wider and his eyebrows rose in surprise as he gestured for more.

It was after lunch when they brought up his toys and some of Bethany’s and scattered them all about the living room to play with him. They also encouraged him to walk by walking beside him while holding his both hands, and then they let him do it by himself. At first he was stepping so slow, by himself, moving like his knees were just hinges, and wobbling to and fro before falling on his padded bottom then giggling and clapping with screams like nothing happened and then he’d roll to his stomach to get up and do it all over again.

After spending the whole evening like this, they fell tired, collapsing on the couch one after another. Except for Scott. Now he was walking a little faster in circles around them on the couch, calling out for them to get up and play some more with him. But instead Kurt gripped him and playfully tossed him in the air as if he were weightless, to which he screamed in absolute joy that his eyes twinkled. And when Kurt laid him down on his chest afterward, he fussed and refused to stay still, seemingly wanting to play more and more. He even didn’t stop just here, but began being so annoying by shoving his little fist into Kurt’s mouth. “What’s so interesting in my mouth?” Kurt managed to mutter, and Jane chuckled to that. “He might want to count your teeth!”

“That is not...interesting still,” Kurt took his hand and peeled it away. Perhaps this was a game he played with his mother, but it really seemed unbearable to him.

Jane took the little one from him. “Don’t complain, I was hit on the nose earlier today by him.”

“Oh really!”

“That what really happened yes.” She replied, then began changing for Scott into the cutest pajamas, she then put his dummy in his mouth so he would settle down, but... He wouldn’t. He was officially a toddler now that didn’t want to be held or kept still anymore; he wanted to move and walk and play. Maybe make a mess too.

Kurt murmured something about letting him do whatever he wanted, and so Jane did so while keeping an eye on him as he wandered about the living room. “Aww! He’s so adorable when he walks like this I almost want to laugh at him.” She commented, then added, like an afterthought, “I really love him, and love Bethany too. Yes they’re annoying and make me feel so tired at the end of the day, but I just find myself love them so much.” She chuckled. “Now, I don’t really know how it feels to have a little kid of my own, but it must feel the same.”

Kurt crawled closer to her. “Wanna know how it really feels? to have your own kid? umm—how should I put it?—it feels like your heart grows infinitely wide, and you love your own kid so much in a way you never thought you were able to love anything in the world the same way.” Jane hardly blinked and looked at him, her attention poured into him as he spoke some more, “It also feels scary, and overwhelming sometimes. But the very best part about it all is when your own kid brings out the best in you, because you will realize, very early, how much that little one needs and deserves the best version of you.”

His choice of words was so beautiful and the way he just said that, in genuine manners, made her push her lower lip out in an impressive pout, feeling awash with feels. He then shifted closer and as if revealing a secret, he quietly said, “At least this’s how it feels for me. But if you wanna have your own experience, you know that can be arranged easily!”

After having been holding his eyes for a long moment, now she rolled her eyes away from his and smiled the way one corner of her mouth tilted up when she was being coy.

#blindspot #blindspot fanfic #jeller #fanfiction #happy weekend for me #i deal with kids almost daily and they could be much more annoying than that btw

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thewarriorandtheking · 3 years

Text

A Winter Tale

Imagine spending a winter night with Thorin in a cozy cabin deep in the woods...

One of the first Warrior and The King stories I wrote and still one of my favorites

Pairing: Thorin x oc

The Warrior and The King Masterlist

********************************************

The snow was falling more heavily now, swallowing the sound of the horse’s footfalls. The trees bent their branches over the path, heavy with their wintry burden. The quiet of the forest was almost palpable, as if holding its breath. The afternoon was wearing on, it would be dark soon. Thorin Oakenshield was about to ask Kaylea Wolf if she was sure of the direction when a little cabin appeared in front of them. It looked well-kept and tidy, firewood neatly stacked in the shed on the side, the windows shuttered. Snow was drifted against the door, no one had been here recently.

Kaylea gave Thorin a hand down and dismounted her horse. Hector appeared out of the woods, carefully sniffing around. Thorin kicked the snow away from the door and opened it, gave the interior a quick glance. Low bed, table and chairs, woodstove with kindling stacked beside. He grabbed a broom from inside the door to sweep the snow off the little porch.

“I will get a fire started, if you want to see to your horse,” Thorin said, putting aside the broom to grab an armful of firewood. Kaylea nodded and led her horse under the shed. When she opened the cabin door a short time later Thorin had a fire going, the stove already beginning to radiate heat. Kaylea added her coat to the rack next to Thorin’s, dropped her saddle by the door. Her wolf followed her in and curled up next to the bed. Kaylea took a bag of coffee out of her saddlebags and put the kettle on to boil, then stood beside the stove warming her hands. Thorin came up beside her, he took hold of her hand, interlacing his fingers with hers.

“It is funny,�� Thorin said. “For most of my life I dreamed of the halls of Erebor, I swore when I returned I would never leave. Now when I am there I dream of being in a cabin in the woods with you.”

Kaylea laughed. “I am quite sure that is not true! There is no Dwarf who prefers the woods to his halls of stone.”

“I prefer to be with you, my love,” Thorin drew her close, he moved a wisp of hair off her face. “One day I hope you will join me in my stone halls.”

“Why must we always have this same conversation?” Kaylea rolled her eyes. “You already have a Queen who has given you two beautiful children, you have no cause to release her from her vows. And I cannot remain in Middle Earth with you.”

“I have cause to…” Thorin began, but just then Hector gave a low growl, his eyes focused on the door. He stood up, his hackles partly raised. There was a swift knock. Thorin and Kaylea looked at each other, Kaylea put a hand on her sword and moved within striking distance of the door. Thorin lifted the latch and opened it.

On the step was an old man, wrapped in a heavy brown cloak, his hood pulled low against the weather. He was wearing a mantle of snow and carrying a soft satchel, in his hand was a long wooden staff.

“Good evening! I am glad to see you are here,” The strange figure said. “May I impose to warm myself by your fire for a little while?”

Thorin stepped aside so the man could enter, “Of course,” he said politely. “Please take a chair. We have just arrived, we should have coffee in a few minutes.”

“That would be splendid,” said the man. He threw back his hood and shook his cloak, what Thorin had taken to be snow on his shoulder was actually a white owl, which also shook itself, then looked around blinking its yellow eyes. As he went to shut the door Thorin caught a glimpse of a large animal in the trees.

“There is a bear outside,” he said to Kaylea.

“Do not worry, she is with me,” said the visitor. He was quite tall and lean, his brown beard streaked with grey. He wore a felt hat with a narrow brim and a sprig of holly stuck in the band. Although there was much grey in his hair he seemed somehow young, his green eyes sparkling. The man turned to Hector and bowed,“I am sorry I startled you, Master Wolf.” The wolf lowered his head in response. He took a seat by the stove, smoothing his cloak. An ermine poked its head up out of his hood and looked around, then disappeared. “Well, this is very nice!” The stranger exclaimed. “It is good to know that there are still some who know how to treat a fellow traveler in these dark times.”

Thorin looked the man up and down appraisingly. “The old ways are not yet forgotten. With whom do we have the pleasure of sharing our fire, if I may ask? And why are you travelling around with a bear?” Bears always made Thorin think of Beorn, the shapeshifting woodsman he had met on his journey to the Lonely Mountain.

The man smiled at Thorin, his eyes twinkling. “A better question is what is Thorin the King of Erebor doing in a trapper’s cabin in the forest?”

Thorin frowned at him, but before he could answer Kaylea spoke.

“My king, this is Radagast the Brown. The bear often travels with him”

‘The Brown wizard? I thought he was a myth,” said Thorin.

Radagast looked offended, but then shrugged. “Just because I do not spend my time meddling in the affairs of Men like others of my order...ah, well! Perhaps it is better to be a mystery.”

Kaylea took three mugs off the shelf and poured the coffee. She offered one to Radagast who took it gratefully. He held the mug in both hands, sipping at it cautiously.

“This is very good. Thank you!”

“Do you know your bag is squeaking?” Kaylea asked, looking at the bag in the wizard’s lap that was moving in two different directions.

“Yes, yes,” said Radagast, putting down his cup to reach into his bag and draw out two tiny brown kits. “Their mother was killed by a hunting party yesterday. They are too young to make it on their own, they are the second reason I am in this part of the forest tonight.” He cradled the kits in his arms, speaking softly to them in a strange language. They fussed and wined but soon fell asleep. The wizard sat rocking the tiny creatures tenderly, a soft smile on his lips.

“The second reason,” said Thorin, looking at the wizard questioningly. “What is the first?”

“That would be you, your majesty,” said Radagast, carefully placing the wolverine kits back in his bag. He picked up his coffee again and sipped at it. “This really is very good!”

Kaylea chuckled at the wizard. “What business do you have with the King Under the Mountain? The Dwarves are a bit outside your purview, are they not?”

“Yes, thank the Goddess,” Radagast reached into his robe, searching his pockets. “I prefer to have as little to do with them as possible, such odd people. Only interested in metal and stone. But I do have something that belongs to the King, when I heard you were in the forest I could not miss the chance.” He brought out a heavy gold ring and presented it to Thorin. “I believe this is yours.”

Thorin was scowling at the wizard’s words but when he saw the ring his eyes went wide. He took it almost reverently, inspecting it carefully. “This was my grandfather’s,” he said softly, almost to himself. “However did you come by it?”

Radagast took a deep breath. “A crow brought it to me years ago. Found it in the rocks before the gates of Moria, they do love shiny things. I have been meaning to return it to you. I set out several times to do so, but something else always seemed to come up. And I do so hate to travel outside the forest.”

Thorin wanted to give the wizard a piece of his mind, How could he have kept this ring? But Kaylea spoke first. “Thank you, Radagast,” she said. “The King is very happy to have this returned.”

“Well, now that I have delivered it I must get on,” the wizard said. “I am already very late to be on my way home.” He drained his coffee cup. “Thank you for allowing me to warm up a bit.”

Radagast rose and walked to the door, he put his hand on the latch and was about to open it when he turned, looking from Thorin to Kaylea and back. He had known Kaylea Wolf for many years, a deadly fighter with the grace and golden hair of the Fair Folk. The King was not at all what the wizard had expected. Taller than a Dwarf should be, with his close-cropped beard and fine features he looked quite different from most of his people. They seemed an odd couple, but they definitely were one, judging by the matching braids.

“Why are the two of you here in the forest?” The wizard asked.

“We were just out for a ride and were overtaken by the weather,” Kaylea said lightly.

Radagast raised an eyebrow, not convinced. “I suppose it is no business of mine, you are quite right. Congratulations, by the way,” he looked at Thorin closely. “I thought you were older.”

“Congratulations for what?” Thorin asked, suddenly remembering why he hated dealing with wizards. Talking to them always made you feel as though you were having two unrelated conversations at the same time.

“On your wedding, of course,” he looked at Kaylea, touching the front of his ear where her braids fell. “Are you not the Queen of Erebor?”

Kaylea gave Thorin a sideways glance. “I am not. It is rather a long story.”

Radagast cocked his head, as if the owl on his shoulder was speaking in his ear. “I am reminded not to speak about things which have not yet happened, I do sometimes get ahead of events. I wish you a very good evening.” He opened the door and vanished into a whirlwind of snowflakes.

Thorin and Kaylea looked at each other. “I wonder what that was all about,” Kaylea mused.

Thorin shook his head, chuckling. “I cannot imagine,” he said. But his mind went to the vision he had seen in the Mirror of Galadriel. Kaylea in a wedding dress, jeweled beads in her hair, the matching rings. It was a good sign if the wizard had seen it as well.

They busied themselves preparing dinner. Thorin skinned the two coneys they had surprised earlier and cut them up, Kaylea set to work on the potatoes and vegetables. As in everything they did together the two of them worked in harmony, knowing intuitively when to give the other space on the small counter.

“Is he always like that?” Thorin asked Kaylea, turning to toss the scraps to Hector.

“Radagast cares little for the worlds of Men, his interest is in the beasts and the birds and the living things of Middle Earth,” she replied. “He does not talk much to people, so he is a bit less polished than Gandalf.”

“I do think I like him better,” said Thorin. “He seems a bit less self-important.”

Some time later, when the dishes from dinner were put away Thorin and Kaylea were sitting on the floor by the stove. Kaylea had found a bearskin under the bed and spread it out against a bundle of blankets, Thorin sat down and patted the hide in front of him. As she settled down he stretched his legs out on either side and started to take out her braids. Kaylea always did them carefully before coming to Erebor but they never passed Thorin’s inspection, he always looked at them disapprovingly until he could redo them himself. He had finished the first one and was braiding the second when Kaylea asked to see the ring Radagast had brought. It was heavy and looked quite old, plain gold with the sigil of the house of Durin on it.

“You have one like this,” she said, handing it back to Thorin. He nodded.

“I made another when I thought this one was lost. This is the King’s signet ring, the original one, handed down from Nain himself. I am very glad to have it back.” He tied the bead to the bottom of Kaylea’s braid and sat back, drawing her close against him. She leaned back, watching the fire dance through the window on the stove and feeling very content in his arms.

“When Radagast brought that ring out I thought for a moment it might be a different one,” she said.

“I confess, I thought the same,” Thorin replied. He was silent for a time. “If it had been that one, I would have told him to keep it.”

“You do not desire it?”

“I saw what it did to my grandfather, what the gold created with it did to me. I still remember waking after you healed my wounds from the Battle of the Five Armies and thinking what a complete idiot I had been. No, I do not want it.” Thorin sighed. “It is out of my reach now, and good riddance.”

“This is why you are a better King than your grandfather, than your father would have been,” Kaylea said. “You are stronger, your vision is unclouded.”

“You have made me a better king,” Thorin replied. “Taught me how to look at problems differently, how to play the larger political game...and a few other things,” he kissed her neck, then gently nibbled her ear. Kaylea squirmed, smiling, her hands squeezing his. “Did I find a sensitive spot?” Thorin nibbled at her ear again, Kaylea turned in his arms and put a hand behind his head bringing her lips to his. This was one of those moments she wished she could just stretch out forever. The dark winter night, the cozy cabin, alone with the man she loved. If only life were so simple.

#fanfiction #thewarriorandtheking #thorin oakenshield #thorin x oc #thorin fanfic #the hobbit #lord of the rings #middle earth #tolkien fanfic #true love

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multi-fandom-imagine · 4 years

Text

Pregnancy Prompts

Taken from a lot of awesome lists! This is just a lot easier for me though I’ll be editing in where I got them

I don’t take credit for any of these.

I’ll be happy to take some Devil May Cry requests { really in the mood to write some things for those characters }

Pregnancy/Family Prompts/Starters

Discovery

1:“This is your fault!Take responsibility.”

2:One party finds out they’re pregnant while the other party is away/captured/missing.

3:Hiding pregnancy from the other partner.

4:“I didn’t think we’d ever do it.”

5:“My parents are gonna be so happy.”

6:“My parents are gonna kill me.”

7:“Do you think it’ll be a boy, or a girl?”

During Pregnancy

8:Baby kicks for the first time.

9:Discussing baby names.

10:Cuddling.

11“You’re not fat, you’re pregnant, and even if you were fat, I don’t care. I love you.”

12:“I dunno if I’ll be a good Mom/Dad.”

13:“I’m emotional and pregnant, leave me alone.”

14:“Get them to settle down in there, will you?”

Labor/After Birth

15:“Baby’s coming, now.”

16“Don’t let go of my hand, okay?”

17:“I can’t do this.”

18:A long and difficult labor, with a good or bad end.

19:“I’m going to kill you if you do this to me again.”

20:Parents relaxing with their newborn(s)/looking at them in awe.

21:“I will always protect you.You can do this.”

1. “Shh, it’s okay, you don’t need to cry.”

2. “Do you want a bed time story?”

3. “[mama/papa]’s got you.”

4. “…How on earth did you manage to get up there?”

5. “Put the cookie down, eat your dinner first.”

6. “I think I can feel them kicking!”

7. “Quick, I think the baby is coming!”

8. “Where did you put your blankie this time.”

9. “One little shoe. Two little shoes. Already to go out.”

10. “They have grown so much, it’s hard to believe how little they used to be.”

11. “I want another baby.”

12. “Say goodbye to mama and papa, they’ll be back soon.”

13. “Stomach bug?”

“No, morning sickness.”

14. “It could be worse?”

“They got jam everywhere!”

15. “You really are your [mother/father]’s child.”

16. “So… the baby is fine, I want you to know that first, they are absolutely fine.”

“What did you do?”

17. “They won’t stop crying and, in a minute, I think I am going to start crying first.”

18. “Stop wiggling! I need to get you changed!”

19. “You are perfect, my little [pet name].”

20. “Did you have a bad dream?” //

“Uh huh.”

“Come on, get into bed with us, you can sleep in bed with us tonight.”

21. “Take a break. I’ll stay up with them, you need some sleep.”

22. “How did you get pen that high up the wall?”

23. “Please don’t vomit on me. Please don’t vomit on me. Please don’t… You vomited on me.”

24. “How many coffees is that?” / “You try having a toddler who refuses to go to bed.”

25:“I hope they have your eyes.”

26:“We’re gonna need more diapers than that.”

27;“How do you like the nickname grandpa/grandma/grandparent?”

28:“Would you prefer something else over uncle/aunt [name]?”

29:“The petting zoo is closed, now stop touching me.”

30:“Whenever you stop talking, they start kicking.”

31:“Look! A foot! Hah, it’s like an alien is inside me/you.”

32:“I’m 41 weeks and 2 days, how do you think I’m doing?”

33:“If you don’t stop laughing, I’ll kick you. Now help me up!”

34:“Uh, its called the “pregnant privilege”.”

35:“Don’t spoil their kid’s taste in music with your trashy playlist.”

36:“Everyone is staring at me…”

37:“Originally, I wanted to pick this up off the floor, that was mistake number 1. Now, I’ve just accepted my fate that I’ll never get back up again.”

38“It’s just one cup of coffee, relax.”

39;“Lets take it slow, we gotta get through having this one before we think of having more.”

40:“Can’t wait for you to meet them.”

41:“I know it’s 3 AM, but do you know what I could really go for right about now?”

42:“Don’t panic, they’re just Braxton Hicks.”

43:“What’s so funny?”

44: “Lets have a baby.”

Pregnancey

1. “Did you feel him/her/them kick?”

2. “Do you think I’ll be a good mom/dad?”

3. “Babe, wake up. The baby is having a party in here! Give me your hand!”

4. “Hospital! Now!”

5. “Boy or Girl?”

6. “Can we name the baby after me?”

7. “Can you put the crib together!”

8. “Cuddle me now!”

9.“I’m pregnant…”

10. “I hope he/she has your eyes.”

11. “You want to paint the nursery what?!”

12.  "so… i have some news.“

13.  "okay i just want to say that, yes, i have gained some weight… but it’s because i’m pregnant.”

14.  "better get your dad jokes ready.“

15.  "right here! right here’s a foot!”

16.  "the little one is quite active today.“

17.  "is that a hand?!”

18.  "maybe you should try reading a book to them?“

19.  "come watch my belly, it’s frickin crazy!”

20.  "the top of the baby’s head is about… here. and a foot is right this way.“

21.  "do you think the baby would be down if i ate some chipotle?”

22.  "coffee isn’t good for you while you’re pregnant or breast feeding, but damn i need some caffeine.“

23.  "watermelon with peanut butter sounds so great right now.”

24.  "my feet are so swollen…!“

25.  "ew, my stretch marks are so gross…”

26.  "the baby will not stop kicking my bladder, so that is why i refuse to leave the toilet.“

27. “Honey you’re pregnant that’s all baby. You look beautiful.”

Newborn and Baby

1. “He/She is up again.”

2. “I’ll get the baby, you go back to sleep.”

3. “So sweet!”

4. “I have found your mini-me.”

5. “Babe!! We are out of formula…again!”

6. “Stop being a baby hog!”

7. “They’re gorgeous!!”

8. “This parent thing is hard!”

9. “You both are precious!”

10. “I love you both so so much!”

11. “Oh…it’s everywhere…I didn’t realize babies…went so much…”

12. “I’ve got it, go back to sleep.”

13. “Wake up, the baby needs you.”

14. “I can’t change their diaper without you getting sick It’s a little frustrating.”

15. “Momma’s little baby, yes you are.”

16. “Daddy’s little baby, yes you are.”

 Toddler

1. “That’s your son/daughter!”

2. “They are walking!!!”

3. “I love it when fall asleep on me.”

4. “she/he keeps crying for you.”

5. “Can I hold them!”

6. “Can I pick they’re outfit out today?”

7. “Daddy’s little girl/boy.”

8. “Mummy’s little girl/boy.”

9. “she /he is never going to be aloud to date!”

10. “Was that a word?!?”

11. “This kid is gonna have a better childhood than I did.”

12. “Honey our little angel just flushed his/her toy down the toilet!”

1: ❝ watermelon like that- oh. ❞

2:❝ Can I touch your stomach? ❞

3:❝ Who’s the daddy? ❞

4:❝ HI LITTLE GUYYYYYY. ❞

5:❝ How many weeks? ❞

6❝ Does it hurt? ❞

7:❝ That’s a living thing in there. A real living thing. ❞

8:❝ I think I deserve extra food since I’m eating for two. ❞

9:❝ Does this make me look fat? ❞

10:❝ No, I get to sleep twice as long because I’m sleeping for the both of us. ❞

11:❝ It’s a boy/girl. I am calling him/her ___. ❞

12:❝ Did someone say shopping spree? The baby room isn’t going to furnish itself. Also you have to carry everything. ❞

13:❝ I used to sneak food into theatres like this, but now I’m sneaking a baby in. ❞

14:❝ NOTHING FITS ME ANYMORE. ❞

15:❝ I’d be fine if I had three bowls of ice cream with diced bananas and sprinkles and a scoop of nutella and three potato chips and- ❞

16:❝ My stomach is like a table now. Look, I can balance all these chocolates on there and- oh.. the baby kicked it off.. ❞

- announcing

❛ so… i have some news. ❜

❛ you look at it, i’m too nervous. ❜

❛ it came back positive. ❜

❛ so… hypothetically, if we were to have a baby, how would you react?❜

❛ okay i just want to say that, yes, i have gained some weight… but it’s because i’m pregnant.❜

❛ better get your dad jokes ready. ❜

❛ you’re going to be a parent! ❜

- questions / hopes / concerns

❛ what names do you like? ❜

❛ i wonder if they’ll like _____. ❜

❛ do you think it’ll be a boy or a girl? ❜

❛ what if i’m a bad mom/dad? ❜

❛ i hope they like me. ❜

❛ so… do you know… what breast milk tastes like? ❜

❛ if my kid turns out like __insert person__ i’ll be pretty pleased. ❜

❛ do you think they’ll have your eyes? ❜

❛ who should we make the god parents? ❜

❛ i haven’t told __insert person__ yet… how should i tell them?❜

- belly feeling / watching / interactions

❛ right here! right here’s a foot!❜

❛ the little one is quite active today.❜

❛ is that a hand?! ❜

❛ maybe you should try reading a book to them? ❜

❛ come watch my belly, it’s frickin crazy! ❜

❛ the top of the baby’s head is about… here. and a foot is right this way. ❜

- cravings

❛ do you think the baby would be down if i ate some chipotle? ❜

❛ coffee isn’t good for you while you’re pregnant or breast feeding, but damn i need some caffeine. ❜

❛ watermelon with peanut butter sounds so great right now. ❜

- other ( reactions, complaints, etc. )

❛ my feet are so swollen…! ❜

❛ ew, my stretch marks are so gross… ❜

❛ the baby will not stop kicking my bladder, so that is why i refuse to leave the toilet. ❜

❛ i’m… going to be a dad/mom?! ❜

❛ well how far along are you?!❜

❛ you’re kidding! ❜

“I’ve always wanted to be a mother/father!”

“We’ve waited a long time for this.”

“Do you want to feel the baby kick?”

“Give me your hand so you can feel it, too”

“We have to finish the nursery. There’s only two weeks left.”

“Have we bought everything on the baby list?”

“I can’t wait to finally hold it”

“You’re glowing!”

“There is something I have to tell you…”

“Hello little one, this is your daddy speaking..”

“I think it likes me touching your belly.”

“I can feel it kick!”

“My back aches and I want ice cream.”

“I can’t hide my bump any longer. I think we need to tell people.”

“I heard the heart beat for the first time.”

“Do you want to see an ultrasound picture?”

“You’re going to be an amazing mom/dad!”

“What would you say about adding one more? The house is big enough.”

“I think my water just broke…”

“Do you think it’s contractions?”

“Call the midwife, this is not a false alarm.”

“I think it’s too late to drive to the hospital, the baby is coming NOW.”

#pregnant #pregnancy #pregnancy promptrs #writing prompts

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 4 years

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Kissing Dead Pearls (Part 16)

The waves lick gently at the side of their boat. It isn’t an awful vessel and it will serve its purpose. Azula never had any love for that ex-pirate bartender, but he has done them well with this ship. Its paint job is somewhat aged, off color in most places and it has a few dents from the recent storm. But the engine is not only intact and in perfect condition but it is also powerful. For both aesthetic and function should, the motor give out, it is adorned with a set of well maintained sails and--Azula rolls her eyes--a jolly roger flag.

She runs through a checklist in her head as she checks her suitcase for a third time. She has several changes of clothes and for a range of weather conditions, sweltering heat, a light rain, a heavy storm, and (though she has yet to feel a cold day) she has a shirt and pair of pants for that. She has a hairbrush, toothbrush, toothpaste, and other hygiene essentials. She has a knife, matches, her guide books, compasses and other navigation tools should the GPS fail, a cellphone, and a survival kit just in case. If Sokka could go missing, so could they.

For leisure she has packed a healthy helping of books, notebooks and pencils. They are neatly tucked away with a scrapbook Ursa had made for her, the stuffed starfish that Sokka had messily handmade for her, and the clownfish that she had made for him. It was in much better condition when she’d handed it to him. It is now tattered in places and the colors have faded. It still smells like him, she doesn’t sleep very close to it because she doesn’t want her own scent to drive out Sokka’s. She will give it to him when she finds him.

She goes through the boat’s fridge and drawers, making sure that there is enough to last them at least a month. She makes sure that there is an emergency supply of canned goods and bottled waters.

The life jackets are intact and there are more than enough of them.

She checks to make sure certain things aren’t there. Holes, broken parts, and Ozai’s alcohol stash. She is grateful that he hasn’t tried to sneak even a bottle on. It will be easier for him to stay sober on a boat with no way to acquire a bottle.

Azula isn’t particularly worried about the journey, now that it is no longer an impulse journey. Mostly, the loose ends have all been tied. Some of them had tied themselves. Namely the resuming of classes--the school had taken on a considerable amount of damage during the hurricane, rendering it unsafe to open until later in the autumn. That would give her at least an extra month or two of time on the open ocean.

She and Zuko spent the rest of July helping Katara, Kya, and Hakoda to clear and repair what remained of the storm damage. That was the deal, Katara would have to put extra time into helping ready the restaurant for opening if she wanted to embark on their at sea adventure. Mostly this consisted of finding a good waitress to hire for while she was away.

And as she and Zuko began securing new shingles to the roof and wooden panels for the walls, construction workers put a tireless effort into rebuilding the rest of the boardwalk. By the end of July the boardwalk was finished and so was La-bsters. Not only does it have a new, bright red roof, but they’d taken the opportunity to give it a well overdue new paint job, white for the outside walls and dark blue for the doors and window shutters. The interior was painted to look like an ocean, mostly teal blue with a border of dark blue to represent waves. They fixed more white wood panels upon the walls to give it an extra decorative flare. From the ceiling they draped fishing nets and discarded buoy strands. On the walls they positioned ship wheels, oars, and old sailor’s logs.

It isn’t the same as it was, but it is lovely in its own regard. It is lovely in that they all shaped it together. If they find Sokka, he will be in for a surprise. If they don’t, she supposes that it is just one more change that she will have to get used to on her own.

Azula managed to stop by Mai’s jewelry shop too. Though it is more of a stall at the moment. Behind the stall, a new shop is in its early development stages; it is roped off with caution tape and is still just a framework outline of what it will become.

Katara had asked Mai to check on her parents for her every now and again. Mai had nodded and offered them parting gifts; shark tooth necklaces for she and Zuko and a wooden hibiscus for Katara. TyLee had given them particularly long and tight hugs and offered a few pointers on how to repair boat breakdowns as well as one of her family’s manuels.

The last time that Azula got to see the both of them before her departure was at the surf competition. She hadn’t managed to pull off a snap but she had gotten the opportunity for another tube ride. The only one of the day.

She likes to think that the luck of catching the perfect wave during the competition would carry over. She likes to think that her trophy is a sign of a greater victory to come. She had positioned the trophy on her dresser next to the pictures of she and her surf team and a cluster of decorative pearls and glass bubbles.

Azula comes back from her thoughts as emerges from the boat, it is nearly noon and the sun is inching towards its highest point. She shields her eyes with her hand and scans the beach for the others. “Hi, Azula.” Katara greets. She stands hand in hand with Zuko. Ozai lingers behind them.

“Is everything ready?” Ozai asks.

She nods, “though it can’t hurt to double check everything.” Granted, his inspection would make it a quadruple check.

“I trust you.” He gives her shoulder two firm pats before making his way to the ship deck.

“Are we ready to go?” Zuko asks.

“Just about.” Azula replies, there is still one thing left.

It takes him a few minutes but she finally sees a figure crossing the sand. She hops down from the boat and and greets Jet. “I’m glad that you are able to make it.”

He rubs the back of his head. “Eh, this summer was kind of boring anyways. I think that a high seas adventure will be funner than another one of Chan’s generic house parties...not that those are boring or anything…” He trails off.

“Yes, well this will be…” she isn’t sure what it will be, at least for him. For her she it will be closure and, perhaps, liberation.

Jet slides an arm around her and cups her cheek in the other hand. “It’ll be good to spend some quality time with you.”

Azula rolls her eyes. “You do realize that my father will be in the cabin over, right?”

“Right.” He confirms.

“We should depart before the mid-day tourist traffic arrives.” Ozai, not so patiently, calls. She takes Jet’s hand and leads him onto the boat. Ozai and Zuko raise the anchor as she and Katara help Jet settle in.

“Father says that you will be rooming with he and Zuzu so that he can ‘keep an eye on you’. But Katara and I are…” she opens a door to the adjoining room, “right over here.”

He gives her a quick thumbs up. “I think that I can deal with that.” She hears his suitcases thud on the floor.

“I am going to make myself comfortable.” Azula gestures to her own sleeping quarters.

.oOo.

She hasn’t had dinner on the deck of a ship in ages. It is rather pleasant, she had almost forgotten how much she enjoys it. It is that time of the evening when the temperature cools to the point of comfort. That time of evening when small gusts flutter the table cloth. It is no five star dinner, a plate of slightly overcooked shrimp and a side of mashed potatoes. But her father had made it and it has been so long since he has cooked for she and Zuko so she can ignore the burned spots.

It is rather easy to ignore them while peering over the railing and watching a family of dolphins leap from the water. She counts three of them, one adult and two babies.

“They’re so cute!” Katara exclaims. “I already have names for them.”

“Of course you do.” Zuko rolls his eyes.

“What are they?” Jet asks.

“That one is Zuko.” She points at the smallest one. “That one is Ozai.” Perhaps Azula has misgauged the direction of her finger, because she seems to be pointing at the other baby. “And the big one is Azula’s Ego.”

There is a gurgle and a cough as Zuko nearly chokes on his soda laughing. “Geez, at least wait until I’m done drinking.”

Azula fixes her with a dull expression. “You know that, that was funny.” Jet remarks. It kind of was but she won’t be admitting it.

The dolphins keep pace with their boat for a while before slipping back beneath the waves. She catches the faintest shimmer of black before they make it completely out of sight. She pops another bite of shrimp into her mouth and takes in the feeling of the ocean breeze on her cheeks. She fixes her sunglasses, not that she will be needing them much longer and rests her hand atop Jet’s.

“No romance at the dinner table.” Ozai grumbles. “That means the two of you.” He nods at Katara and Zuko.

She almost makes a joke about all of the times when she and Zuzu had to witness him peck mother on the cheek over plates of lobster. Decidedly, he isn’t ready for that sort of banter. She isn’t sure that he ever will be. Instead she whispers something to Jet.

Jet picks up his two remaining pieces of shrimp. He doesn’t do it quite as well as Sokka would have, but just like that they were hearing an enthralling tale of forbidden love between two shrimp. The story ended with the both of them getting eaten by a shark. Jet is the shark.

A sand shark.

Her sand shark?

Ozai looks towards the setting sun.

Azula and Jet steal a quick kiss.

Her father says, “I saw that, that was a test.”

They all have a good chuckle.

She thinks that it is the most normal. The most happy that she has felt in a very long time.

#Avatar The Last Airbender #Azula #Zuko #Ozai #Sokkla #Sokka #Zutara #Jetzula #Katara #Jet #Fanfiction

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hunterartemis · 5 years

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Epilogue (Part 1): Unchartered

Summary: A very travel-phobic Theseus sets towards a journey towards a destination that will change his destiny. With his chest filled with fond memory, things will get different.

This is part 1 of Epilogue because I thought it would be less cumbersome to read if I separate it into two. Plus, I am going on a vacation so more days will be gone without writing. This will keep up with the atmosphere.

Words: 3923

Flashbacks/dreams: in Italics

Chapter Theme: More Than Friends by Two Steps From Hell : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PjGvBpgrwb8

“A coffee for you sir...”

The porcelain chinked on the wooden table as the waitress left with her light steps. The man, for whom the coffee was brought, did not take it immediately, because he was very preoccupied with something else. He was inside his mind, firing a thousand possibilities how things could go wrong. With a swift huff, he leaned at the back of his chair. The grayish dull morning light of the early spring fell on his handsome face. Theseus Scamander, the man who fought wars with Grindlewald was now so nervous with the prospect of—he was even scared to think about it himself. A blank piece of paper that lay abjectly open at his front; he looked at his fountain pen, which was actually a disguised quill in muggle premises and again he veered at the paper, looking at it for the thousandth time, reviewing if he should have a scribble or not.

The sun feebly shined through the pale veil of gray cloud and shined like a halo on the frosted window. The waitress opened the windows for the customers to soak in the bit of sun they got in that small musty place. As soon as the glasses were lifted, a gust of cold wild wind from the River Mersey came in with a roar. To many people’s dismay, it disturbed the cozy warmth, but Theseus found it refreshing—Britain never changes, the air is always capricious.

The bugle blew sonorously in the chill air, echoing throughout the port of Liverpool. It was nearly time. Theseus hastily folded the letter and put it in his breast-pocket and put some changes near the untouched coffee. He was especially tensed about boarding today. If he misses the ship, the next is two weeks later and by then it would be too late.

Too late to get to her.

He was never much of a traveller, not really. He liked routine, continuity and stability, something that distinctively differentiated him from his younger brother. Like any other British, wizards or otherwise, he knew two spots to travel, Brighton and France; only Paris and Montmartre. He remembered all those times he had argued with Maxine about that.

“But why aren’t we going?” Maxine whined as she slammed the door shut behind her. Theseus slowly took his seat and leaned back on the chair like he had nothing to do.

“Miss Valois, it’s already been assigned... we are not going near the Viennese raid.” Theseus said with a self-satisfied smile, “and besides, let the new shoes break in—why bother leaving England. In fact, I say England is in dire need of us than Vienna.” Theseus tried to sweep that matter away and focused on some papers that have been piling up for a week, “—now let me focus on this, or else Travers will have my head--”

Maxine sat down with a defeated look on her face. From the corner of the eye, Theseus could see how the nib of her eagle feather quill rested on the thin curve of her lips. It’s very rare to see her cast down—her dark eyes looking everywhere yet nowhere, restless and agitated. It’s been only a year and she is working as a deputy's head in his department, side by side with him. Theseus found it rather funny, the way she pouted. It was hard to point things at her to describe: reserved, no... She wasn’t reserved, she was Peeves-like, and yet there was unwavering professionalism in her manner. But as soon as the office door closed, she became different, as if more ‘relaxed’ if one could say.

Soon he would shake those feelings and concentrate on his work, despite himself. He would try to keep the inflated bubble of feelings in check and in control; because no mode of flirtation would work on her—because she would out-flirt him and embarrass the hell out of him. That’s how she was, a strange creature.

Sometimes when the feelings got the best of him, his only way to save his dignity was a quick trip to the office canteen. The aroma of freshly ground coffee, warm tea, and oven-fresh pumpkin cakes reminded him of his own common room for some reason and it was like a salve of comfort in his anxious days. But today, it was not really an escapade. Today he had another mission.

“Good afternoon Mr. Scamander, you seem to be in a good mood--” the red-headed waitress said cheerily, “must be a promotion on the way huh?”

Theseus would wipe that unconscious smile off his face for the sake of avoiding uncomfortable the question, and clear his throat forcibly to get into his usual upright character, “two coffees please, one black with no sugar and other with cream and two sugars”

That will cheer her up.

Theseus walked along the curved railings of the long corridor with the coffee cups levitated in the air, smiling on his own. She will be surprised when she sips the coffee because she never orders in front of him, but he somehow overheard her ordering ‘Cafe a la Françoise’. Theseus tried to imagine how would she look when she takes the first sip, will she be shocked or surprised or delighted? He didn’t know, and he couldn’t wait any longer to know.

‘Here...’ He thumped the coffee cup on her table, ‘have it and clear that frown off your face.’ Theseus said, standing over Maxine’s table, towering over her hunched figure upon the table, immersed in paperwork. The light sound of the cup made her look up towards Theseus. Her face looking at him with a penetrating look, the abyss of her black eyes stared at his blue eyes with a twinkling sparkle in a half-lit dusty office room. Her pointed chin supported her extended neck and the pale line cleaved into a dark shadow at the middle of her shirt and the center of her bosom—

Theseus blinked uncomfortably, any longer or he would—

“Leave the coffee, will you... ” Maxine stood up from her chair abruptly. If Theseus didn’t back out, Maxine would have rammed him under his jaw. She glided from the back of the table to the side and suddenly her twinkling eyes turned into a crooked smile, “I have more exciting things here...” with a sweeping motion she pulled out a black file and tossed it to Theseus’ chest.

“What is that Miss Valois?” he asked curiously and at the same time walked towards his window to take a clear look at the file. Maxine stood at the other side of the glass window with her back at the glass, smiling crookedly at him.

“I convinced Travers that Wharton is not fit for the job... after all, you need a good health if you are going to such short notice, but it seemed he didn’t feel too well, so Travers gave the Vienna mission to us.” Maxine said coyly, “and it was also very important not to leave such mission in the hands of wishy-washy people, so I nominated us--” she giggled in a small manner.

Theseus huffed exasperatedly, but he couldn’t hide the smile that lingered on his face, apparently, he could never, “—what have you done now..?”

“Nothing you can prove...” Maxine smiled mysteriously and sauntered forward. The light from the window fell on her face and under the pale light her flushed cheeks and lacquered red lips glowed “—so now, go ahead and take your coffee back” with a giggle she started to walk towards the door, humming something under her breath. Theseus saw how her shapely hips swayed under the snugly draped silk skirt.

Theseus smiled at the memory of his own. The sun had set and the outside of the portholes looked inky dark. The Stuart just put the meal in front of him, and without any delay, he just dug into the potatoes. He never really eats alone, even though he is a bachelor—he always eats in a public space where there is a lot of humdrum around. He liked the sound of the eating, jingling cutlery and hustling in a busy restaurant. Here in the ship, there was no one to accompany him to his dinner except the roaring current of the sea—the thought itself was enough to unnerve him, there he was having a solo dinner in the midst of the Atlantic as his homeland faded long ago in the dark. He started to think how he would manage this one week along in the ship, sailing in the midst of wide Open Ocean.

He really wished he brought someone on this trip.

After his meal was finished, he slid the plate at the collecting slot and turned off all the lights and left bedside reading light on. He reached for his suitcase under his bed, and after gently opening it, he took out a small square velvet case in green color. He slowly popped the case open and brought out a small ring. He held the ring against the dullish reading light and all its sparkle came out like a fierce river over a broken dam. Theseus’ blue eyes fondly looked at the top as he cherished it gently. He remembered he had paid three months of his wage for this.

“Is that what you picked for me…?” Maxine said playfully, as she sat on the writing-table, dangling her pale feet like she was in a playground swing. There was a halo-like aura about her as she sat gracefully on Theseus’ table with her pale pink watersilk gown falling off her shoulder.

“Yes…” Theseus said, without looking at her, “got a problem with that?”

“No… not a problem, but dear Merlin, roses, and filigree?” Maxine answered sarcastically, pressing her bottom lip lightly under her teeth. Her light giggles faded into the roaring current of the sea. Theseus slantly looked at her way, and swiftly flipped on his bed and lied on his chest. His face supported on the floor of his palm, “yes… I asked for the skulls and bones, but they said they ran out of it--” Theseus smiled at his own comment.

“ooh… Nasty” Maxine leaned lightly a little bit and the dim light fell on the high point of her bared shoulder “I wonder the rest of you would be as interesting as your mouth…” Maxine jumped down from the writing table and frolicked across the other wall. Theseus’ eyes wistfully roamed around the back of her calf, and the reddened toes. The ship tilted slightly as the current raged outside. Inevitably with a soft whimper, she was tumbled against the wall, “stop laughing you--” she threw a sharp glance across the room, laughing herself, her seductive façade melted with a childish playfulness.

“Why…?” Theseus said, propping his head on his arms as he reclined against the head of the bed, “it’s not every day I get to see you embarrassed.” A subtle change of expression occurred in his amused look, something he dared not to express yet. He licked his dry bottom lip and subconsciously touched the moist trail, fixated on the eyes of Maxine. An indomitable desire pounded against his heart—the proximity of their distance sent sparks in his veins; a fleeting memory of the disastrous encounter in Newt’s basement crossed his mind.

“Newt...” Theseus answered, ignoring Maxine completely, “Maxine is fired from the ministry and it has been two weeks since she received the letter of termination.” Theseus looked at Maxine’s way, who fortunately did not disapparate and grabbed her arm harshly, “and you, little madam cannot even breathe without signing and returning the termination letter.” Theseus looked proud with his accomplishment and was climbing up the stairs (the spell being worn off) but suddenly, the arm he grabbed felt very light.

“Are you looking for me?” Maxine was waving at him from the other end, and Theseus looked down and found he was grabbing a branch. Feeling idiotic and enraged, he threw the branch and looked at his brother. Theseus, mused after a frustrated sigh “I didn’t want to do it... but desperate times—”

“No...”

“non...”

“Yes...” Theseus snatched his brother’s wand and bellowed “Accio Femme”

With a swooping motion Maxine floated towards Theseus and thudded with him chest-to-chest. Theseus grabbed her tight and triumphantly screamed, “got you, you little minx!”

His chest throbbed as her bosom touched against his, his hand grabbed hold of her at the small of her back, near the line where the curve of her hips started. In the midst of that strange place, in the most unceremonial manner, Theseus was holding Maxine in his arms—oh Merlin, how long he had waited for this to happen, and how he loved as her dark eyes ate him up with those sarcastic eyes.

“What are you thinking?” Maxine asked him from somewhere very near. Theseus’ was pushed back from the fantasy into reality and saw Maxine sitting at stool near the foot of the bed. He didn’t answer immediately, his mind trailed in someplace else...

“I have, for Madame, this grace; that I may rest long where I heard a lover sigh.”

The whispering trail of that mischievous voice made Theseus sweat even in this cold night. He was too preoccupied and annoyed at that time to understand the meaning of the words. As his leisure allowed him to recall his memories and remember, he felt his face heating up. He dared not to look at Maxine’s way or the ring he had brought for her—

“What are you thinking...?” Maxine mused as she sat on the stool crossing her legs. She looked at Theseus in a way as if she knew that he tried to hide his torment by indulging into the sounds of the currents, “its naughty isn’t it?”

Theseus straightened up on his bed as if he was electrocuted. He looked at Maxine’s face—the dim light illuminated the contours of her face and his shadow between her and the light eclipsed most of her existence. she laughed, this time it seemed oddly patronizing.

“You schmuck, do you think I won’t know what is happening inside your little head? I am you, remember?” she acclaimed as she leaned her head to the wooden orb near the footboard of the bed, “right now Maxine Valois is thousands of miles away in some farm in Japan, toiling like a common muggle in the field—and boy you haven’t changed a bit...” she paused, looking at Theseus straight across, “you, a grown man of thirty-nine is still fantasizing like a schoolboy--”

“What do I do...?” Theseus leaned towards the footboard, his hand almost raised to grab the chin of Maxine “you are kind of obsessive--”

“And now... ” Maxine gently reached for Theseus chest, and her long finger traced the line of the cotton shirt, her long lacquered finger entwined at his elastic suspender “you are flirting with yourself...”

Snap...

“Ow that bloody hurt!”

That snapping pain near his nipple made Theseus wake from his sleep. Merlin, what a dream!

Theseus cocked his torso to reach for the reading light above his head. He really fell asleep while inspecting the small emerald box in his hand, which rolled at the floor from the slumber-sleuth of his hand. Half asleep, he picked it up and put in his trouser pocket. After turning off the light around his headboard, he felt a pale gray light entering through the portholes. The dawn was upon the sea.

...

Mr. Ohara, Theseus’ cart driver was a quiet man. As the vehicle started to move at a glacial speed through the countryside of Sapporo, Theseus had time to ponder. There was a chill in the air, but it didn’t make one immobile as it does in Britain—it was really refreshing. The scenery around contoured with shades of sepia and dull gray, like it does in the early autumn, some grasses here and there lifted their heads as if eagerly anticipating the upcoming vernal warmth. People stared at him as he passed, clothed strangely, and women giggled. Some strange trees crossed his path and a stray wind carried a strange tune in the air.

Theseus was dropped near an ancient gate, and Mr. Ohara informed in broken English that the place he is looking for is five kilometers ahead, where he will have to walk. After the cart faded away down the mountain, Theseus looked again in the gray infinity.

Urgh... stupid, stupid. Should have brought someone with him—where is Newt when you need him.

There were no signs of locality around, amidst the vista of near-barren mountains and trees, not even a single hut was in show—Theseus stood there like an idiot, oscillated between quitting and going forward. The emerald box in his breast pocket felt hard against his chest. When he was about to implode in a perpetually deserted mountain valley, he saw a young peasant woman walking towards him. Thank Merlin, he will be able to ask direction from her.

“Sumi-masaeng...” (excuse me) Theseus stuttered a little. As a British, knowing French and German was enough of linguistic prowess already. Whatever he learned from the English-to-Japanese handbook during his weeklong naval journey was jumbling up near his tongue with nervousness. However, to his greatest surprise, the peasant woman opening her mouth before Theseus could ask for direction.

“Kimi wa Sca-man-da san, desu yo ne?” (You are Mr. Scamander, aren’t you?) The woman said with a frown in her face. Theseus felt conscious knowing that she had a hard time looking at his face—he may not be perfect, but he wasn’t that ugly.

“What are you saying?” he realized that his vernacular unconsciously came out.

Her reaction was beyond Theseus’ imagination. She dropped her basket of crops and ran through the old gate, screaming something in her own language. Theseus, alarmed and surprised, followed her, running through the muddy slopes of the mountain. However, he had no idea what was awaiting him.

He was standing up on a bare cliff as it seemed. A steep and nearly impossible slope leads to a small valley which looked like it was a painting from an Oriental artwork. He could not see that peasant girl anymore but could tell from the agitated flesh colored dots around that picturesque village that the news of his arrival reached the placed. A number of middle-aged women were climbing on the steep path with relative ease and stood around Theseus to take a look at the strange-looking man. They were all dressed like the peasant girl. To Theseus’ relief, a woman swept them all from his way and scooped him up like a maternal figure to a child.

“Oite oite Theseus-kun... yokoso, uchi-no mura ye.” (Come come, Theseus, welcome to our village) She has a melodious voice that meandered like a song. She didn’t look like a peasant; her complexion was cleaner and fairer, her hair neater and she was dressed in a more sophisticated way. She might have been someone important because all the other women scattered to their previous station with her imperative look. She also walked in a swaying motion as she descended the hill, holding the back hem of her dress very gracefully. A thousand questions fired in Theseus’ brain as he followed her and as if by magic the woman knew what was going on.

“You must be wondering who am I and what is this place?” she mused in a peculiar accent but in perfect English. Her pleasant voice sent an uncomfortable shiver in Theseus’ skin. She briefly glanced back at his face and smiled, “Gomen ne, I should have introduced myself to you. I am Nishimori Ume; I live in this village and in-charge of this sanctuary.”

“Sanctuary?” Theseus asked with bafflement as he almost tripped on a stray rock, slippery with residual snow.

“Yes... a sanctuary where we take care of the creatures that are often used in Wandmaking.” Ume spoke slowly and clearly, “in all Japan, there are one four of these places, the one you are standing on is in Futen, established in the 12th century after the Westerners introduced us with Wand and Quidditch. Along with wand creatures, we also grow wand trees here, wand trees from this place are of Supreme quality and all the Eastern wand woods available all around the world, are exported from here. ” She went on “when a French document of exile reached the Japanese Wizarding Congress, an uproar ensued throughout all the high commission—after all Japan is enemy soil right now” She looked meaningfully at Theseus, “but, when they heard about her, everyone was agitated to keep an eye on her. But suddenly the World Magic Council instructed us to take her in—next thing would have been Siberia, and I wouldn’t want to do that with Matsu-chan.”

“Who?” Theseus asked.

“Matsu—oh, you wouldn’t know--” She snapped unmindfully, “Maxine... we call her Matsu. Western pronunciation isn’t Japanese virtue, nor is it very honorable to mutate our language to suit the foreigners, so out of politeness, we call her Matsu—it is better than Makkushin ”

She waited near a moon-bridge for Theseus to catch up. The steep circular bridge was joining two separate part of the place: the mountainous valley with houses with something Theseus couldn’t see yet.

“You speak of her as if you’ve known her for a long time...” Theseus said very appreciatively, “I am glad she hadn’t had a hard time—after all that she’s been through.”

“Yes, I do...” Ume said musingly as she glided across the moon-bridge, “she was my student, one of my best.”

Suddenly an image appeared in Theseus’ mind.

“You misunderstand me sir...” Maxine continued with her serene voice “British ministry is getting weaker and weaker every moment, you see, this little Island is not only detached from Europe but also the rest of the world where the recruitments are better, stricter and more efficient. You see, your inefficient policy with wizards and non-wizards have made you vulnerable against the extremists and right now most powerful wizards in the country are rallying against you. If I walk out of this and send a word, most powerful anti-British ministries will jump on the bandwagon of recruiting me, and I would rather be on this side than on the other side of massacre and extremism... if you think I am lying or bluffing, the fourth page of my Curriculum Vitae can testify to that.”

Theseus and Travers, out of curiosity peered to the page Maxine mentioned and a shining golden badge on a piece of silk paper was encrusted. Maxine, understanding that they cannot read the language, pointed her wand towards them and softly uttered in an unfamiliar language.

“This Award of Golden Robe and of Five Seals goes to Miss Maxine Valois, By Japanese Wizarding Congress. She is hereby awarded an honorary member of Society of Eurasian Magical Corporation and is hereby granted full permission to take citizenship and work on Japanese soil”

“But there is something I don’t understand...” Theseus said with a tremendous amount of surprise, “how can she stay in such a magical atmosphere?...she has no wand.”

The matronly lady turned her graceful neck towards Theseus, a patronizing smile lingered on her lips.

“Wand is not a requisition to Magic, Mr. Scamander—it is the mind where all the magic happens--”

Tags: @my-current-fandom-is

Fun Fact: The chapter theme I used in here was actually for the chapter “An Evening In Paris”. But I decided not using it, turns out it was the perfect theme for this chapter.

“I have, for Madame, this grace; that I may rest long where I heard a lover sigh.” : a carving found on an 18th-century busk (a wooden ruler like stuff that goes under the corset and between the breasts of a woman to keep the posture straight). As Theseus understood that his wand was kept between Maxine’s breasts, he became very hot. In Wizarding world, wand is also an extension of the wizard’s manhood.

Futen: A mountain place in Sapporo, Hokkaido.

#fantastic beasts #fbawtft #cog #sea voyage #fantasizing about crush #theseus x oc #theseus scamander x oc #travel in japan #mahoutokoro #hokkaido #trip to hokkaido #mountain #sea #long reads #romance #drama #anticipation

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dreamscapesin1582 · 6 years

Text

Chapter T H R E E

Word Count: 2685

Reading Time: 10+ Minutes

Tagging: @acrispyapple , @masamunesmistress , @that-otome-potato

Trigger warning: Mentions of death/suicide.

[ edited: 07/17/20 ]

Katsumi didn’t mean to fall asleep during the trip back, especially not in the arms of a man she just met. But she was just human, whose energy was drained in a single night’s time, and soon her body just eased onto his chest.

Kenshin spoke nothing of it. Not how he carried her back to her room when they arrived, almost admiring the familiarity of a woman’s touch—no. He convinced himself that it was because hostility nor fear did not suit that pretty face, and the bliss of unawareness seemed better.

And then his noble self soon honored his word. He personally instructed his people not to approach the young woman unless she agreed to have their company. Complaints nor questions were not entertained, and so they just listened… well, his people, that is.

Sunlight peeked through the doors, pulling her away from the comforts of slumber. Her brows twitched as her eyes cracked open to find the same wooden ceiling she woke up to hours ago.

That’s right. Remembering the events of last night, she exhaled and closed her eyes. Then she sat up and gave her cheeks a good smack.

A decision always has its consequences. And she has to bear with it.

Her hands fell on her lap as she thoughtlessly looked around the room, thinking about what to do from then. There, she found a package stowed away near the door.

She approached it, seeing a change of clothes with a note signed by Sasuke. Apparently, Kenshin had gone to the extremes to see through their agreement. She blinked, both at the note and the kimono, as her chest warmed at the thought.

Katsumi began dressing when her mind lingered on Kenshin’s last words before she surrendered to her fatigue.

“You remind me of someone.”

Just who would that someone be?

A few moments passed until she heard a soft knock from outside, ripping her away from her trance. “Katsumi? It’s me.”

“Sasuke..?” She called as she frantically fixed her obi before coming to the door, only to find him carrying a tray. “Is that for me?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, t-thank you.” She bowed immediately, as if it was a reflex. “I would have gotten it myself if you told me…”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Both of them stared at each other before Katsumi spoke again. “Would you like to come in?”

“Thanks.” Katsumi stepped aside as Sasuke entered, carefully setting the tray down on the desk. She reluctantly made her way beside him when he noticed her clothes. “It looks good on you.”

She offered a humble smile. “Thank you for getting it for me.”

“Do you need anything else? I could have it brought to you.”

“Oh, no. This is too much already.” She waved her hands. “I’m sorry for the trouble. You must be very busy, after all.”

“No, it’s okay. I wanted to check on you before attending to Lord Kenshin.” Sasuke attempted to show a smile to ease her worry. Katsumi relented and nodded. “Well then, I’ll leave you to eat in peace.”

Before he stepped out, he paused by the door and spoke again. “…Also, someone might visit you soon, despite Lord Kenshin’s castle memorandum. Though I assure you, he means no harm.”

And he left just like that. Katsumi pursed her lips before paying attention to the food. She picked up the chopsticks and started eating. Her brows rose in delight at the well-prepared meal, and she took her time relishing on it as a compliment to the cook. However, there was a nagging thought at the back of her head saying that she should prepare. For what?

Meanwhile, Shingen was up and about, striding the halls like an eager kid excited about something. But when he passed through Kenshin’s room, his smile faltered.

“Haven’t you had enough?”

Kenshin was just as displeased as his visitor. As if too weary to even answer him, he downs another cup and refills it again. That was an answer in itself.

“I’m surprised the alcohol hasn’t drowned you just yet.” He sighed and waved his hand dismissively, turning to leave. “Do your worst.”

And he leaves him to his drunken misery. Kenshin stares at the cup filled to the brim, losing his appetite. He cursed Shingen in his mind, but if he only became honest with himself, he just really loathes the fact that Shingen was damn right.

“I’m surprised it hasn’t killed me, too.”

As soon as she unclasped her hands to thank for the food, the door slid open. Katsumi casted her eyes at her visitor, tall and confident, on the other side of the door.

“I finally get to meet you.”

Is he the one Sasuke was referring to? She wasn’t sure, but the charming smile on his handsome face said nothing about an offender. But—

“As expected from a lady who was able to charm Kenshin, you truly look like an angel.” He said with all the certainty in the world that Katsumi was dumbfounded. A light blush dusted her cheeks.

“C-Charmed? Angel?” She looked away modestly. “I—please. Jokes like that aren’t funny…”

“Oh, but it’s the most honest thing my lips has ever said.” He doesn’t budge. Katsumi twitched uncomfortably. “I never speak of nonsense. I like to say it how I see it fit.”

A wry chuckle escaped him when she couldn’t speak. “Apologies. It wasn’t my intention to startle you, my angel.”

Katsumi drew a breath, reluctantly facing him again after reminding herself of Sasuke’s words. Surely he means no harm… since he still remained on the other side of the door, albeit the masculine grin stayed as well.

“I’m sorry, I just don’t know how to respond to… sweet talk.” She uttered. “Can I help you with something?”

“Ah, yes. I came to ask for the pleasure of having your company? I would love to invite you to a walk around the castle.” He was saying it in his typical fashion, but Katsumi somehow detected that he toned it down. “I heard you were staying. I would hate for you to get lost while you’re here.”

And that was how she found herself walking with one of the greatest names in Japanese history: Takeda Shingen.

He talked about everyday things that happen around the castle, allowing her time to comprehend his words. Then he moved to casual topics, like his beloved young commander whom he likes to tease every now and then.

He was an unshakeable flirt, but for some reason Katsumi gradually felt okay with his company as he spoke in a rather considerate pace.

“Um, wait,” she said in the middle of their tour, “I thought Kenshin was your rival…”

“Ah. He still attempts to kill me at every chance he gets.” He casually nodded like being a target was a normal thing. “But he also does that to Sasuke, though he calls it ‘sparring.’”

Shingen led her to the cherry blossom tree that stood in the garden behind the castle. Katsumi followed silently, watching him as he gazed up at the swaying blossoms, like a sad fellow reminiscing his woes.

“We have battled each other four times, each ending in stalemates. Kenshin is a man I held worthy to fight with… a rival I acknowledged the most.” She spied his expression, seeing a flash of grief underneath steel gray eyes. She recalled Kenshin’s similar expression, and her chest ached anew.

“…But when I lost my home to Oda Nobunaga, Kenshin offered me shelter in his castle. Then we got into an alliance.”

And then it disappeared just like that… just like Kenshin’s. Shingen faced her with the same alluring smile. “Sorry for making this conversation dull. How shall I make it up to you?”

“O-Oh, I didn’t mind.” She shook her head. “I’m just surprised how it came to be. You know, rivals being in the same house.”

“Kenshin is a complicated man.”

“…I thought so, too.”

The man turned to her with piqued interest. “Did he say something about himself?”

“Not exactly,” she pressed her lips as she tried to find the right words, “I mean, his words were a little harsh and demanding… but he almost seemed like he was struggling with something, contradicting himself all the while. I found him… difficult to understand.”

“…Are you afraid of him?”

Her mind went back to her brief encounter with him. She was aware of his reputation: the God of War. She watched him strike a person without hesitation. She knew that he could kill her that night.

After an experience like that, anyone would be afraid.

But what she saw behind all that was different. She saw it with her own eyes. In that brief moment, his eyes that were once of a predator had the reflection of a broken man. His arms trapped her like a caged bird, but he had the intention of taking her to safety.

He was a complicated man, indeed.

“No.”

Shingen chuckled heartily, which Katsumi oddly interpreted as satisfaction. She wasn’t even certain it was the right answer—but it just rolled out her tongue so naturally.

“You’re in safe hands indeed.” He reassures all of a sudden. “If that woman-hater went through all that for you, then rest assured he won’t point his sword at you.”

“You say that with such confidence.”

“I’ve known him for a while.”

Katsumi’s eyes lit up subtly, with curiosity getting the best of her. She hesitantly looked at Shingen. “Can I ask you something?”

“Go ahead.”

“Do I look like someone you know?” She asked. “Or rather… someone Kenshin knows?”

“Why do you ask?” Katsumi nervously faced Shingen’s puzzled expression.

“Because he mentioned that I apparently remind him of someone.”

His forehead creased. Shingen didn’t know Kenshin was that careless… or was it the influence of alcohol? No, he wasn’t that invulnerable. Maybe he was just flustered by having to face this young woman whose eyes almost have an uncanny resemblance as hers—

“Ah,” he muttered, getting the answer, “I’m sorry, my angel, but I don’t think I have an idea.”

“Oh…” She frowned, remembering the expression he wore when they rode back home. “I wonder if it’s someone he cherished…”

“Now you’re just breaking my heart.” He feigned a hurt expression. Katsumi blinked at him blankly. A very unforgiving reaction, he thought. “All this time you’ve been with me, you speak about Kenshin.”

“Uh, I didn’t mean—” Heat crept up on the apples of her cheeks as she denied it. Her hands frantically made gestures out of panic. “I just… he looked so sad that time, so I wondered if… you know…”

“Sad, huh?” Shingen repeated. A mirthless laugh escaped his lips.

“Well, he does want to die.”

“…Excuse me?” She looked at him for confirmation. Shingen turned around and began walking forward, away from that tree that seemed to have the magic to make them say things they didn’t want to. “Shingen, what did you say—”

“Let’s go, my angel.” He insisted, briefly glancing behind his broad shoulder to face her. “We’ll speak while walking. I still need to make you forget about Kenshin while we are together.”

But you just made me want to think about him more!

Katsumi didn’t want to be too insistent, but she was too confused. Eventually, she spotted a brown-haired youth marching towards them. He was not happy at all.

“Lord Shingen!”

“Ah, Yuki!” Shingen seemed unbothered by the young man’s annoyance. “I was just about to introduce you to Katsumi—”

At the mention of a woman’s name, Yukimura turned to Katsumi as if he just noticed her there. He took a step back.

“Ah—sorry!”

“Yuki, how could not notice an angel’s presence in front of you?” The Tiger of Kai unhappily scolded Yukimura. “Katsumi, this is Yuki, my vassal.”

“N-Nice to meet you.”

Yukimura found it unsettling to see her bow to him politely, so he roughly asked her to raise her head. Honestly, when Sasuke told them to be gentle with her, he didn’t expect her to be this— delicate? It was like he couldn’t help but be different around her. Ah, this is why he can’t deal with women.

“A-Anyway, my lord! We have business to attend to!”

He stared eagerly at his lord, and Shingen sighed in distress. “I apologize, my angel. It seems I must see to this urgently.”

“Oh, please. I don’t mind at all. Thank you for your time.” She bowed.

“Well then, do you intend to show that appreciation later—”

“LORD SHINGEN!”

“Yuki, that was a little too loud.” Shingen complained, as Yukimura sighed loudly before turning to Katsumi with an apologetic expression.

“Don’t mind him.”

Without another word, Yukimura dragged his esteemed lord away as Katsumi stayed to watch them quietly. She wondered why she seems to keep meeting such weird people.

Finding herself all alone, she began walking again. She passed through a slightly open door and spots a familiar face inside. Pausing at her tracks, she saw Kenshin sitting in front of a desk, looking through several papers with a noticeable array of decanters by his side.

“Do you need something, woman?”

She flinched as he acknowledged her presence. “Sorry, I was just passing by—”

“Well, he does want to die.”

Katsumi pressed her lips together. Kenshin looked up from the document in his hand and waited for her to speak.

“A-Actually… I wanted to apologize for causing you trouble.” She said, eyes avoiding his stoic gaze. “I realized that I bothered you and wasted your time by running away and having you come for me. I acted childish and played hard to get.”

He didn’t speak. She continued. “I… I have a hard time dealing with men. I hope you can forgive me.”

“Come.”

She lifted her gaze to find him setting the papers aside to bring out the decanter of sake and a jar of pickled plums. He gestured the spot in front of him, and just like that, she stepped inside.

With the desk separating them, she settled in front of him. He brought out two sake cups.

“Frankly, I don’t care about your reasons.” Kenshin proceeded to pour a helping for himself. “My demands are baseless in itself. The apology you offer is meaningless.”

She watched him quietly as he gracefully took a sip. Strangely enough, his brusque manner of speech doesn’t bother her anymore. He glanced at her, then at the remaining cup.

“You should know that I will not pour for you.”

Katsumi regarded the empty cup, wondering if it was his way of inviting her to drink. However, Kenshin misinterpreted her reluctance.

“I am not interested in women,” he said, “much less taking advantage of them.”

Now she was more confused. Did he just try to reassure her?

“Why drink with me?”

“I’m bored.” He coolly replied. “Shingen refused to spar with me. Sasuke and Yukimura are preparing to set off to Azuchi.”

She was unsure of herself, but she gradually reached for the sake and poured herself a cup half full.

“…and I have the right to know about you.”

She paused to look at him. “About me?”

“In a battle, it’s best to have information.” Kenshin suddenly came back as his usual battle-loving self. “I know nothing about you. You are here to give me the information I need.”

The mention of battle left a bad aftertaste in her mouth, but she acknowledged how his words, no matter how peculiar its use sounds to her, has this certain charisma to it. Like it has the divine power to make anyone believe and follow him. Because look at her now, defenseless in front of the God of War, yet she wasn’t feeling afraid.

“When dusk arrives, you are free to leave.”

And there it is again. It somehow felt like he was assuring her, but she somehow knew that if she tried to confirm, he will most likely deny it.

She felt defeated, and yet she doesn’t mind.

“…Thanks for the consideration.”

And she takes the cup.

<< Previous chapter | Next chapter >>

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen #Ikemen Sengoku: Romances Across Time #cybird #ikemen series #ikesen kenshin #uesugi kenshin #kenshin uesugi #fdwl #fdwl project #fdwl fanfic series #from death with love #from death with love series #ikemen sengoku fanfic #ishino katsumi #ikemen sengoku fanfic series #fanfic series #ikesen fanfic series

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thorne93 · 6 years

Text

The Right Path (Part 6 - FINAL)

Prompt: (From request) Hi! I was wondering, would you it be okay to request a Charles Xavier x telepath!reader? Where they have a mind link since their ability first showed up and so they already know each other even before theyve actually met and then he finds her when he first uses Cerebo and he and Erik go to her first?? Its an idea ive had for a while, but im not nearly an amazing writer like you!

Word Count: 1683

Warning: language (maybe??), child abuse, mental and physical abuse, depression…

Note: I LOVED this request. Thank you for sending it in. I am so sorry it took so long to write. I hope I did it justice dear. Plus, thank you for the super sweet note ; ) Beta’d by none other than @like-a-bag-of-potatoes

Forever Tags: @capsmuscles @cocosierra94 @essie1876 @magpiegirl80 @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @harleyquinnandscarletwitch @iamwarrenspeace @marvel-imagines-yes-please @superwholocked527 @myparadise1982sand @missinstantgratification @thejemersoninferno @rda1989 @marvelloushamilton @munlis @thefridgeismybestie @bubblyanarocks3 @random-fluffy-pink-unicorn @hardcollectionworldtrash @igiveupicantthinkofausername @kaliforniacoastalteens @feelmyroarrrr @kaeling

James McAvoy: @bohemianrhapsody86 @lenawiinchester

Charles Xavier: @bohemianrhapsody86 @lenawiinchester

Right Path: @polkadottedpillowcase

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

You and the team worked tirelessly for a handful of days. You helped ease Erik’s mind when he got too upset, you helped calm Banshee before he tried to fly, giving him a bit of confidence that he needed to fly. You and Hank talked chemistry and biology, while you and Raven discussed her crush on him when he wasn’t around. Charles trained with you every day, and each time, the two of you had such chemistry and bonded so well, it nearly drove you mad.

Other than that, Charles and Hank assigned you to help train everyone. You would get inside their head, ease fears, help them see what was holding them back, and then you’d work with them. It was becoming quickly apparent that you were Charles’s right hand. Yes, he and Erik made a great team, they were pretty much your leaders of the pack, and you didn’t want to deny or invade on that. However, when it came to keeping uniform, you were the better choice.

You dealt with all sorts of obstacles of your own, dealing with the others, and even with Charles. He asked you to help him train as well, which felt incredibly foreign, but you loved to be of any service to him. You realized you had thought about your feelings around Charles numerous times, not on purpose, and you were sure he’d heard you, but you’d never admitted it out loud to him. Now wasn’t the best time. Not while everyone was gearing up to fight Shaw.

Raven had confided in you about the thing that Hank had said about being beautiful, she also told you that now she had feelings for Erik. At first, yes, you had a bit of a crush on Erik, but now, now he was just a good friend. Charles was the only man for you and he would always be, even if he didn’t return the feeling. So you let her cry on your shoulder, as you tried to explain Hank’s thoughts. You informed her that if she felt more comfortable around Erik then she should be with him. Erik was a lot stronger on the “mutant and proud” front than Hank, and that’s all Raven had ever wanted -- acceptance. So Erik would be the obvious choice for her. She told you of her plan to seduce him and it made you blush and squirm a tad, but ultimately you gathered your senses and told her she should do whatever will make her happy, whatever she won’t regret. She had kissed your cheek and bounded off to set her plan in motion.

Charles had confided in you about Erik’s personal vendetta, the one he’d seen in your mind.

“I saw it too,” you confessed. “But can you blame him, Charles? He shot his mother right in front of him.”

“I know that,” he said, pacing his bedroom as you sat on the end of his bed, watching him. “I don’t want to get there to stop Shaw and Erik is so blinded by rage and hate that he blows the whole thing. Do you know he asked me if I was naive or arrogant?” he asked, nearly rhetorically. Usually he was never this upset, but then again, his newest and closest companion was giving a stance, a hard one, against an idea that everyone felt very strongly about.

As a mutant, it wasn’t a political debate. Not one that some people felt strongly against the humans, some felt strongly with the humans, and someone was neutral.

No.

No, when it came to the stance of “Are you for or against humans?” there was only one answer to be had. A side to pick. You and Charles believed in humans like Mr. Nobody and Moira. Erik believed in humans like Shaw.

“What did he actually say?” you wondered, knowing Charles was upset.

“He said, ‘Are you really so naive, as to think that they won't battle their own extinction? Or is it arrogance?’.”

You nodded. “Charles...You won’t change his mind. He’s been through too much to believe humans can be good. It would take an act of God for him to see that they aren’t all the same.”

“That’s my fear, is that they are,” he confided.

“You think they’re like Shaw?” you questioned as he walked over to you and sat down next to you, your legs practically touching.

“No,” he stated, seeming exasperated. “No, but I know how people are. People are just like animals, when they’re hurt, they lash out. Someone like Moira might be okay today, while we’re helping them, but if something goes wrong, are we suddenly the problem? The thing that needs to be cast out?”

Your hand found his as you gave it a squeeze. “That will always be a question we have. But we have to have faith that not everyone is like that. How can they trust us if we don’t trust them?” you asked. “It has to start somewhere. It needs to start with us. No matter what happens tomorrow, or in ten years, or in twenty years, we can’t give up hope. There will always be non-mutants that will stand beside us and fight with us, not against us...We just have to get through the ones that want to fight us first.”

“How do you have so much hope? You’re upbringing was nearly has heartbreaking as Erik’s. How can you have faith after all this time?” he wondered with curiosity.

“You,” you said without much thought or hesitation. “You were my beacon for so long. I held out hope that we’d meet. You came to me in my dreams over and over, without fail. You could’ve given up on me, on meeting me, you didn’t know anything about me, but I’m willing to bet, something within you made you want to come back to me. Somehow, Charles, we’re linked, and not just because we’re telepathic. But because you somehow knew I needed you in my life. If people like you exist, mutant or not, then I have to hold out hope. You’re proof that it’s real. That having faith pays off.”

A small v formed between his brows and a wild look swirled into his eyes before he lurched at you, his lips crashing on yours, taking you by complete surprise.

The feeling of pure electricity lighting up your body, from your lips down to your toes. You’d dreamed of this moment for as long as you could remember, and now that it was here, you felt light, floating, dizzy, nearly ethereal. His lips were softer than you ever imagined, but they were firm, the feeling behind his lips determined as ever. Somewhere you were vaguely aware that his hand was resting just above your elbow. All too soon, the kiss ended, but you were far from sober from that kiss.

“I---uh--” you stammered, your mind and body not quite caught up to what was happening.

“That was…better than I ever imagined,” Charles breathed with a bit of a joyous laugh in his voice.

“You liked it?” you asked, a tad embarrassed and nervous about your lack of experience.

“I loved it. I want to do it every day for the rest of our lives,” he said in a low voice, a giant grin painted on his face as his slender hand reached towards your cheek to cup it.

“I’m in love with you,” you said, quickly as if you were ripping off a bandaid. You had to say it. You’d been putting it off, but with the impending war, you were tired of waiting. Tired of waiting to be yourself around someone. Tired of putting your feelings away for other people.

You were so afraid to look at him. To meet his eyes. You were so afraid of rejection, it wasn’t even remotely funny. You wanted to rant and say it was okay if he didn’t love you back but you kept quiet, letting him gather his thoughts.

After a moment, Charles suddenly said, “Y/N, I love you too. Look at me,” he gently commanded and you obeyed. “I have loved you from the moment we met. And not because I could read your mind, although that was part of it, but because you’re good and pure and compassionate and wise and smart and kind...You’re so many things, Y/N. You’re everything anyone could ever want in their life. More importantly, you’re everything I want. I know we’ve only known each other for a handful of weeks, technically, but I feel so connected to you. I want to spend a lifetime with you, getting to know you, getting to help you, having you help me with mutants.”

“But...we hardly know each other,” you prompted. Yes, you loved Charles. Yes, you wanted to spend your life by his side. Yes, you knew you’d never tire or fall out of love. Yes, you knew it sounded crazy. But you knew how you felt. Charles could just be infatuated.

“Read my mind and tell me I’m not serious,” he challenged with determined eyes. “I know it’s highly unorthodox, but when has anything about our relationship been normal?” he questioned with a bit of humor in his features.

“Never, I suppose,” you admitted.

“Right. And it doesn’t have to be now. I know I want you, I know I love you. I don’t need to know your favorite color or favorite band to know that I loved the girl whose dreams I visited for three years,” he assured, his eyes searching yours. “So if you’re willing to be something more...so am I.”

“I am. I’m more than willing.”

“Good,” he breathed before planting a lingering, soft kiss to your lips. “Me too. I think this is a good path for us.”

“I know it’s the right path,” you assured, your hands resting on his arms, staring into his eyes, finally happy with your life. Finding where you fit in, and with whom, with a perfect man by your side. You could take on the world.

#the right path #Charles Xavier #charles xavier fic #charles xavier x reader #Erik Lehnsherr #erik lensherr fic

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mirai-eats · 6 years

Text

Twenty Minutes Late

It’s mario kart night, and what’s a good competition without a little drama?

Voltron, klance/laith, 2,704 words, rated T, modern/college AU

MASTERPOST

The Snapchat notification sound barely beeped before Lance already reached toward his phone. He didn't even glance at the name since he already knew who it is; they've been snapchatting each other for the past two hours back and forth. Lance tapped on the pink square next to “Keith” with a knife emoji next to it (added when one night Keith showed off his knife collection) and didn't even try to suppress a smile while he read the text.

For the past few days, Lance and Keith had been in contact through Snapchat at almost all hours of the days. Keith was a little slow on responses sometimes, but that was mostly due to him having a habit of putting his phone one place and leaving it there for several hours only to come back and find a handful of messages (from Shiro mostly).

Today was the day Lance was going to see him again. Friday was the promised Mario Kart competition being held at his place. Luckily, his roommates were out and he did most of the cleaning last night so all that was left was snack shopping. Hunk promised to bring over a homemade pizza and fresh snickerdoodle cookies, that left the rest to Lance.

Refusing to make the trip down three flights of stairs to get the rest of the groceries, he shoved his phone back in his pocket and grabbed every bag in the car and made his way upstairs.

He pushed his door open with his foot and shouldered his way into the apartment, his arms laden with seven bags of groceries and the bag of sliced bread dangling from his teeth. Saturday morning is generally his grocery run but there was no harm in going a day early, especially if Pidge was coming over. Despite her size, she has a tendency to snack, so the family-size bag of Cheetos were necessary. To make a point, Lance took a snap of the pile of grocery bags strewn across the counter where Lance had thrown them in his desperation to put them down and wrote “Mr. I can mcfucking lift” then sent it to Keith.

Almost immediately, Lance got a response from Keith, and it made Lance nearly throw his phone across the kitchen. A blurred picture of a weight set at the gym, two large plates on either side of the bar and Keith’s Nike clad feet next to it. “So can I” the Snapchat read.

Instead of chucking his phone, he threw his hands in the air and groaned loudly. Keith was cute, funny, sweet, and apparently wasn't lying when he said he could probably bench press Lance. Some deep part of him now wished Keith would bench press him. He couldn't wait to see him again. He snapped back a hasty reply then got straight to work finishing the cleaning.

It's not unusual for Lance to fall fast and hard for someone, but Keith was so unlike the type he usually fell hard for. Before, it was like he did a double take and on that second take, someone would throw a cup of coffee on him when he figured out he liked someone. Keith? He was hit so hard and fell so fast it was as if Keith had physically punched his gut and threw him out the window. It's been fantastic talking to him these past few days, and Lance was ecstatic he was coming over later. But he wanted this to be the start of something. Lance wanted to take this boy on a romantic stroll in the park and treat him to his favorite pizza place, buy him a McDonald's mcflurry at three in the morning and they have talks, deep talks, in the car parked outside one of their places. Maybe cuddle up on a couch watching Netflix and they could chill, or maybe they would legitimately just chill and drink a beer.

Those fantasies kept Lance company as he got ready for tonight. Hunk said he was going to arrive earlier than everyone so he could have time to prepare the pizzas, which should be in about-

“Hey, I hope you like garlic because I have enough to keep Dracula’s whole family and everyone else you love away.” Was Hunk’s greeting as he shouldered his way into the apartment, arms loaded with grocery and freezer bags.

“Nice. I love soaking my skin in fresh garlic. What’s up, my bud?” Lance helped Hunk put everything on the now clean counters.

“Brought my knives because I hate that you only own two.”

“A big knife and a small knife is all I need for everything. It's not like I'm eating premium filet mignon with my butter knife.”

“I would personally come over and kill you if you put a butter knife near that steak.”

They set about getting everything out for the pizzas, Lance set out and opening tupperware containers full of ingredients for Hunk while he pulled out seran-wrapped dough balls from the refrigerator bag.

“Hunk, you treat us good. If I didn't have you in my life, I guarantee my diet would consist of hot pockets, pizza rolls, and those little saltine cracker packets.” Lance sighed.

“You'd be dead from all the sodium if I wasn't here to feed you fresh baked pizza and my potato salad.”

Lance gasped. “You brought the potato salad?”

“Yes and,” Hunk smacked Lance’s hand reaching for the refrigerator bag, “That’s for when everyone gets here.”

“Unfair. I thought I’m your best bud?” Lance pouted. “You are. I just want everyone else to have some too. The moment they all get here you can go ham because at that point it’ll be their own fault they didn’t get any.” “I love you.” “I know, dude.” Hunk grinned and turned back to unwrap dough balls. “Don’t Han Solo me,” Lance snorted and punched Hunk’s arm lightly. “Need me to do anything?” “Turn on the oven to 400 then you can go back to whatever you were doing before I got here.” “Gotcha.” Lance pulled out the pans he stored in the oven and placed them in a haphazard heap on the stove, then turned on the oven as Hunk instructed. At that moment, Lance’s phone made a familiar clunking sound. It was a response from his earlier Snapchat to Keith (which he didn’t remember what he said) from a couple hours ago. He took a picture of Hunk in the kitchen, tongue poked out and brow furrowed in concentration as he beat those poor dough balls into something that resembled pizza, and stuck some heart emojis around his head. “Got the bae with me here already hurry up and bring the Wii ;)” It was another hour before everyone started to arrive, Allura and Pidge kicked down the front door and demanded Hunk’s pizzas immediately or else they would die. Shortly after, Shiro and Matt came in, albeit much quieter and toted a pie they had picked up from the bakery a few blocks away.

“Where’s Keith? Isn't he supposed to be bringing the Wii?” Pidge asked, hands already neon orange from inhaling half the bag of family sized Cheetos Lance thankfully bought earlier.

“He should be here any minute, don't worry,” Lance waved Pidge’s dusty orange fingers away from his face where she went to jab his cheek. “Get those things away from me.”

“It's not like him to be late he probably got stuck in traffic.” Shiro said.

“Relax, Pidge,” Matt patted her head and and attempt to steal some Cheetos, which earned him a firm slap on the arm. “It's been like ten minutes he'll get here when he gets here.”

“He hasn't responded to my Snapchat from earlier. I sent him a cute picture of Hunk and honestly I’m offended for Hunk that he didn't respond with like a ‘wow he’s cute’.” Lance huffed.

“Aw, thanks dude,” Hunk giggled.

“Here, I saved it. Everyone come look how cute Hunk is,” Lance pulled out his phone and showed everyone the picture he saved.

“If you didn't have Shay I’d date you myself, Hunk,” Allura said.

“Aren't you gay?” Said Hunk.

“Yeah, but you can make a mean lasagna and I would marry for that lasagna over a good orgasm any day.”

“Isn't that basically the same thing?” Matt said.

“Good point.”

Pidge nudged Hunk and pulled him down to her level by his collar and angled them away from the group. Frantically, she whispered into his ear, outside of everyone's, especially Lance’s, earshot, “Keith has a crush on Lance and he’s also an idiot so he probably thinks he lost his chance with him because the Snap makes it looks like you two are dating. He’s probably wallowing at home like the coward he is.”

“Oh, uh, we’re not?” Was Hunk’s response.

“No, you two act like it though,” Pidge practically hissed.

“Text him and see if he's really being a pining idiot at home instead of bringing the damn Wii.”

Pidge whipped out her phone and frantically shot Keith a message, only to get a response right away.

“He's at home wallowing in self pity like a dumbass.”

“Tell him he's a fool,” Hunk said, “with love, from Hunk.”

“Oh my god, should we make it worst?” A sly grin made its way across Pidge’s face.

“So like, fan the flames by acting more affectionate and domestic than usual with Lance but also act as their wingman?”

“You got it.”

Hunk frowned. “Get him over here first, then we can. Tell him he's a fool then that he shouldn't worry about that just that we’ll kill him for chickening out on Mario Kart night when he's supposed to provide the Mario Kart. Only an absolute dingus would do that. Get over it buddy. With love from Hunk.”

“You sound a little upset.” Pidge snickered and started to type out what Hunk just said.

“I am.”

Pidge turned back to the group and announced over their debate which food is better than sex (currently they were on “a really fucking good cheesecake”), “Keith should be here in ten and he's sorry, he fell asleep after the gym.”

“Tell him he's a fool,” Lance frowned.

Another ten minutes later, Keith came frantically knocking at the door. There was a race between Lance and Pidge to get to the door first, both for very different reasons.

“I want to rip his head off and feed to to the crows for being late,” Pidge growled.

Lance’s much longer legs beat Pidge by a landslide. He held Pidge back with an arm and a leg, and the other hand he used to open the door. “Hey, dude you’re twenty minutes late,” Lance said, a small frown etched on his face. “Sorry, sorry,” Keith shuffled into the apartment; a bag with what Lance assumed held the Wii was gripped close to his chest. “I got tired and took a nap after the gym but I slept later than I thought I would.” “That’s alright at least you’re here now. Hey Pidge, stop trying to kill the poor guy he’s here he has your Wii.” Lance attempted to push her off of him. “Please wash your hands before you touch my stuff,” Keith sighed. “You deserve to have Cheetos all over your ugly-ass Wii.” Pidge frowned, but turned to go wash her hands. Keith toed off his boots at the entry way with everyone else’s shoes and came fully into the apartment. A chorus of greetings at varying levels of enthusiasm met Keith when he entered the sitting room. He handed the backpack to Matt without a word and he started to set up the gaming console. Shiro tugged Keith’s arm as he had passed by where he sat on the couch to get his attention. “Hey, you alright?” Shiro whispered. “I’m fine just a little. . .” Keith’s eyes drifted over to where Lance and Hunk was standing in the kitchen pulling the mini pizzas out of the oven. “Out of it, I guess. It’s been a long week.” “Which one?” Keith’s eyes snapped back to Shiro and widened. “What?” “Hunk or Lance? Which one’s caught your little gay heart?” He whispered. Keith hesitated. He spied an unfamiliar woman, Allura he guessed from what Lance had told him, lean a little closer to where they were whispering. “It’s nothing don’t worry about it.” Keith narrowed his eyes at her. Guilty for being caught, she leaned back and threw him a dazzling smile. “You must be Keith. Shiro’s told us much about you,” Allura said, sticking her hand out to shake. “Um, you must be Allura then, right? They talk a lot about you, too.” Keith hesitantly took the manicured hand and shook it. “All good things, I hope?” she arched a white eyebrow but there was a humorous quirk to her lips. “We tell him about your unfortunate straight incident.” Lance yelled from the kitchen. She gasped. “Did they really? I told you not to tell anyone!” “Princess, it’s my favorite story to tell.” Lance’s laugh echoed through the apartment. “Okay so there are four controllers and like seven of us, who wants to go first?” Matt talked over Lance’s raucous laughter. “How about in order of arrival?” Hunk suggested. “Hey then that puts Shiro, Keith, and I last,” Matt pouted. “We brought you a pie,” Shiro said dejectedly. “Okay, Shiro’s puppy eyes are killer and I’m a gracious host so I’ll give him my spot first.” Lance said. “I hooked up your Wii and brought you pie!” Matt interjected. “I brought the Wii.” Keith protested. “Yeah, and I brought the food and was here before you guys so suck it up,” Hunk said. “But the pizza’s actually done. There’s potato salad and plates on the counter and cups in the cupboard there’s some beer, Coke, milk, and-“ Hunk opened the fridge to check, “- Cactus Cooler? Who drinks Cactus Cooler?” “I do. I asked Lance to get it.” Keith raised his hand warily.

“What kind of loser drinks Cactus Cooler?” Matt said, the tail end of his sentence was cut off by the sudden little jingle from the Wii menu.

“Keith does,” Shiro teased.

Everyone had already started moving towards the kitchen in a subtle hurry to try and get there first. Lance had dove straight for the potato salad, Pidge the margherita pizza. The rest of them sort of did a weird shuffle to try and get to the general vicinity of the pizza. Keith somehow ended up next to Lance who was scooping about a third of the potato salad onto his plate. They were squeezed so close together due to the too small kitchen and too many people in there at once they’re arms were pressed against each other.

“Sorry I was late,” Keith muttered, only loud enough for Lance to hear.

“Hey dude, don’t sweat it. Shit happens. We’re all here, everyone’s safe, and the pizza is still hot.” Lance huffed.

Keith peaked at him through his fringe, eyed the slope of his nose and the content smile on his face. It really was fine that Keith nearly ditched the get together because he jumped off a cliff into a steaming hot pit of conclusions. Everything should be okay, Keith has a chance to try and woo Lance himself because he’s thankfully single. Oh god, what if he was straight? But, Keith reasoned with himself, as he served himself a helping of potato salad, Lance is a nice guy, if he was straight or even uninterested he would let down nicely. It would be easy to move on and hey, maybe still stay as friends. Because Keith really liked being his friend. Well, he thinks they’re friends. . .

Keith’s train of thought was cut off when Hunk came up behind Lance and wrapped his arms around his waist, then gave Lance a firm peck on the top of his head.

“How’s that salad, babe?” Hunk asked.

“My souls been cleansed because of this heavenly dish.” Lance said through a mouthful of potato salad.

Keith whipped around to stare at Pidge, eyes wide and the color drained from his face.

Pidge simply shrugged and took a large bite of pizza.

#klance #voltron #keith kogane #lance mcclain #laith #fic #vld #Voltron legendary defender #twenty minutes

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the-netchiman · 6 years

Text

Stolen from gf @lionel-del-rey

1. Who was the last person you held hands with?

smol cousin at some family function a while back.

2. Are you outgoing or shy? Neither?

3. Who are you looking forward to seeing? My gf

4. Are you easy to get along with? Fuck no lmao

5. If you were drunk would the person you like take care of you? I have no doubt that they would try

6. What kind of people are you attracted to? Funny, kind, down to earth people are cool

7. Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now? I’m about to purchase a plane ticket for my gf so I severely hope we’re together by then lmao

8. Who from the opposite gender is on your mind? ur mum

9. Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable? Only if it makes the person I’m talking to uncomfortable

10. Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with? My dad. I guess???

11. What does the most recent text that you sent say? “what the fuck do you want for chrimbus, you little bitch?”

12. What are your 5 favorite songs right now? Oh no I don’t know gonna pull these out my ass real quick Black Irish by The Devil Makes Three Almost Blue by Chet Baker Desperado by The Eagles Stillborn (acoustic) by Black Label Society 512 by Lamb of God

13. Do you like it when people play with your hair? idk?

14. Do you believe in luck and miracles? Yes

15. What good thing happened this summer? I got to visit a friend in Texas. Other than that, my summer went by in a big shitty blur.

16. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again? Not for all the money in the world

17. Do you think there is life on other planets? Ye

18. Do you still talk to your first crush? Nop

19. Do you like bubble baths? Ye

20. Do you like your neighbors? I don’t dislike them. I don’t speak spanish, so we haven’t talked much.

21. What are you bad habits? I stress myself out over little things too often

22. Where would you like to travel? Ireland would be cool, but I definitely could never go there. Outside of that, idk, anywhere is cool

23. Do you have trust issues? oh yes

24. Favorite part of your daily routine? Eating

25. What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with? My chest or my neck

26. What do you do when you wake up? Check my phone

27. Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker? I think its a fine how it is

28. Who are you most comfortable around? My friend Ari I guess

29. Have any of your ex’s told you they regret breaking up? yes

30. Do you ever want to get married? wow what an awkward question to have on something my gf is for sure going to see (yes)

31. If your hair long enough for a pony tail? ye

32. Which celebrities would you have a threesome with? Oh, idk

33. Spell your name with your chin. dickhead

34. Do you play sports? What sports? Not any more, but I used to play Football (American) and boxing

35. Would you rather live without TV or music? Tv

36. Have you ever liked someone and never told them? Nah. Well yeah, but they figured it out eventually lmao

37. What do you say during awkward silences? “wow this got awkward”

38. Describe your dream girl/guy? Mark Ruffalo

39. What are your favorite stores to shop in? Nerd stores (y’know, where nerds gather to play cards and dnd and stuff, occasionally comics are also there) and music stores. I’d spend all day in guitar center if no one stopped me.

40. What do you want to do after high school? Already out, and lemme tell you I’m already not doing what I wanted to do

41. Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance? Most people. A few people definitely deserve nothing less than a life time of suffering.

42. If your being extremely quiet what does it mean? Nothing, or something. I’m quiet most of the time.

43. Do you smile at strangers? I think I do but I have the resting bitch face big time so I mostly just look slightly less mad at people in public

44. Trip to outer space or bottom of the ocean? The ocean would be fantastic

45. What makes you get out of bed in the morning? Mr Socks won’t SHUT THE FUCK UP

46. What are you paranoid about? oh, y’know, most things

47. Have you ever been high? Oh yes

48. Have you ever been drunk? frequently

49. Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about? yes, but not because i’m embarrassed, just don’t want to upset anyone

50. What was the colour of the last hoodie you wore? Black

51. Ever wished you were someone else? Nah. Careful what you wish for, right? Don’t want to say that and then wake up to find I’m somehow an even bigger piece of shit.

52. One thing you wish you could change about yourself? Wish I were in better shape, but I’m working on that so

53. Favourite makeup brand? Don’t wear it, so my favorite is whatever my gf asks for lmao

54. Favourite store? Guitar Center. lemme obnoxiously test pedals all day

55. Favourite blog? dunno

56. Favourite colour? Red. a certain shade of blue is pretty good too.

57. Favourite food? Anything featuring potatoes

58. Last thing you ate? a fuckin 1/4 cup of cheese. my diet has been weird recently.

59. First thing you ate this morning? Nothing yet, but I have designs on some tacos

60. Ever won a competition? For what? ye, a few. i hate bragging so im not going to go into detail, but i used to actually be good at things.

61. Been suspended/expelled? For what? Yep. suspended two or three times for getting into fights, one time for accidentally bringing a knife to school. weirdly, the girl that decided to pull the thing out of my pocket got in no trouble at all.

62. Been arrested? For what? No, but boi have i come close

63. Ever been in love? i am, at this moment, very in love

64. Tell us the story of your first kiss? Not really much a story? It was an awkward childhood kiss.

65. Are you hungry right now? Yes, very. waiting on me uncle tho

66. Do you like your tumblr friends more than your real friends? don’t really have tumblr friends

67. Facebook or Twitter? Fb

68. Twitter or Tumblr? Tumblr for art, twitter for memes

69. Are you watching tv right now? nah

70. Names of your bestfriends? Ari, zach, mr socks

71. Craving something? What? Oh y’know things

72. What colour are your towels? Got turquoise, black, blue, purple, white.

72. How many pillows do you sleep with? two

73. Do you sleep with stuffed animals? Nah

74. How many stuffed animals do you think you have? Got a few plush pokemon, i guess that counts?

75. Favourite animal? Really like bears

76. What colour is your underwear? N/A

77. Chocolate or Vanilla? Vanilla

78. Favourite ice cream flavour? oh, uh, cookie dough? oreo? orange sherbet? can’t decide.

79. What colour shirt are you wearing? N/A

80. What colour pants? look if the last two clothing questions didn’t tip you off, i’m naked. are you happy now?

81. Favourite tv show? oh, idk. haven’t really had the interest in shows since i got super depressed like a year ago lmao

82. Favourite movie? i guess kung pow?

83. Mean Girls or Mean Girls 2? WHO IN THEIR RIGHT MIND WOULD EVER PICK 2?

84. Mean Girls or 21 Jump Street? Mean girls

85. Favourite character from Mean Girls? that chick that made out with a hot dog that one time. big mood.

86. Favourite character from Finding Nemo? The stoner turtle

87. First person you talked to today? My gf

88. Last person you talked to today? My uncle

89. Name a person you hate? just one? nah.

90. Name a person you love? my gf (duh) all these friends i met on the internet, and some of my family i guess

91. Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now? so, so many people.

92. In a fight with someone? like, currently? how would i be doing this?

93. How many sweatpants do you have? don’t wear sweats

94. How many sweaters/hoodies do you have? a couple

95. Last movie you watched? uhhhhhhhhh something shitty on netflix, probs

96. Favourite actress? oof uh, idk.

97. Favourite actor? also dunno

98. Do you tan a lot? got them irish genes, i burn

99. Have any pets? Mr. Socks, the best cat in the world and i will fight anyone who disagrees.

100. How are you feeling? Cold

101. Do you type fast? Nope

102. Do you regret anything from your past? Not really. If they didn’t happen, i wouldn’t be where i am now

103. Can you spell well? dubya eee ell ell. fuck you.

104. Do you miss anyone from your past? kinda? define past.

105. Ever been to a bonfire party? ye

106. Ever broken someone’s heart? i would hope not, but maybe

107. Have you ever been on a horse? ye

108. What should you be doing? going to the store

109. Is something irritating you right now? always

110. Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt? YES

111. Do you have trust issues? Yes

112. Who was the last person you cried in front of? an ex, probably

113. What was your childhood nickname? didn’t really have a nickname

114. Have you ever been out of your province/state? Yep

115. Do you play the Wii? I have a wiiu, but i don’t really play it much. its mostly the netflix machine now

116. Are you listening to music right now? Autumn Leaves by Chet Baker

117. Do you like chicken noodle soup? Fucking yes

118. do you like chinese food> YE BOI

119. Favourite book? don’t know

120. Are you afraid of the dark? Nah

121. Are you mean? I think so. others say different. its weird, man

122. Is cheating ever okay? in a relationship? no. in a video game to give your character a giant bobble head? absolutely.

123. Can you keep white shoes clean? the trick is to not wear white shoes

124. Do you believe in love at first sight? No lmao

125. Do you believe in true love? as opposed to fake love? i guess???

126. Are you currently bored? ye

127. What makes you happy? knowing that others are happy

128. Would you change your name? nah

129. What your zodiac sign? taurus

130. Do you like subway? not compared to my other sub options

131. Your bestfriend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? i don’t know. she’s married, so like...what the fuck how

132. Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? my dad, i guess

133. Favourite lyrics right now? I've held the hand of God and I've sang the Devil's song And when it comes my time no tears are gonna fall But some will light the fire and some will mourn the one Left longing for the ire of, of their departed son.

134. Can you count to one million? ain’t got that kinda time, fam

135. Dumbest lie you ever told? I don’t really lie? I think i just say dumb shit and people take me seriously

136. Do you sleep with your doors open or closed? Closed

137. How tall are you? 5′5. I’m a manlet.

138. Curly or Straight hair? no preference

139. Brunette or Blonde? brunette

140. Summer or Winter? Winter

141. Night or Day? Night

142. Favourite month? idk, december i guess because i have a mandatory week off work,

143. Are you a vegetarian? I wish, I don’t have the willpower.

144. Dark, milk or white chocolate? Dark chocolate

145. Tea or Coffee? tea. coffee is more of a tool for me? gotta wake up, tea is just good.

146. Was today a good day? dunno yet

147. Mars or Snickers? Snickers

148. What’s your favourite quote? don’t really remember quotes

149. Do you believe in ghosts? Kinda

150. Get the closest book next to you, open it to page 42, what’s the first line on that page?

“As I approached the northern cliffs where I’d find the Serpent’s Sanctum, I could see the soaring towers of Skyreach off to my right.”

#txt #got bored #this is dumb #who cares?

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deepwithinmybonesfic · 7 years

Text

Deep Within My Bones Ch 11- Answer

AU. Viktor wins another gold at the Olympics, and attends the Paralympics as another duty as the King of Ice Skating. Having lost his inspiration and heart, Viktor did not expect to find love in what he sees as the perfect man. Yuuri, after losing his legs, lost his chance to compete on the same ice as his idol. When the world seems to fall into place, what else can be taken away from them? Ch 1-6 is Setup, start at Ch. 6 for the cute romance-y and drama

FYI- Canonically, Yuuri is blood type A. Apparently, Viktor's blood type is a mystery. Any profile has had his blood type as a ? This is interesting because Japan has a sort of astrology based around blood type. It is used for personality types, and compatibility with other people. from issendai.com: People with blood type A have a deep-rooted strength that helps them stay calm in a crisis when everyone else is panicking. However, they tend to avoid confrontation, and feel very uncomfortable around people. A types are shy and sometimes withdrawn. They seek harmony and are very polite, but all the same feel that they never really fit in with others. A types are very responsible. If there is a job to be done, they prefer to take care of it themselves. These people crave success and are perfectionists. They are also very creative, and the most artistic of all the blood types, most likely because of their sensitivity.

Shokupan is the most common type of Japanese bread, next to baguettes and all the buns and pastry kinds. It is a very sweet white bread that comes very square and thick-cut. It kind of sucks for savory sandwiches, but makes amazing breakfast toast http://www.dreamsofdashi.com/shokupan/

Viktor nearly jumped out of his skin the next morning. He had woken up in Yuuri’s bed, the stress and dread settling in as he woke up and remembered what had happened the night before. He went straight downstairs, Makkachin following him, her wet nose bumping the back of his legs as he walked. Yuri was downstairs, in Yuuri’s usual spot. Viktor’s stomach lurched—he had forgotten the surprise guest, and he had refused to stay back at Yuutopia when they had stopped by before the trip to Fukuoka. Any damage from before was probably worse, by now. Thank God for Mariko--- she sat across from Yurio, her place empty but for a cup of coffee. There was a stack of uno cards and the TV remote—they hadn’t been back for dinner at all last night, after all. “Good morning.” Mariko said idly as she flipped through an old looking magazine, before sliding it over to the blonde boy. “Here.” “You speak English?” Viktor sputtered. “A little,” Mari held up her fingers in a small pinch. “No… rosshia.” Yuri snickered. No wonder the magazine looked a little worn for the wear… Viktor was in it, with his long silver locks and a foot less of height. “Did you really bring magazines all this way?” Viktor peered over, before taking his place next to Yuri. “As if. These are your boyfriend’s. He needs a new name. I was here first.” “Technically, he was. He’s six years older than you.” Viktor almost felt like smiling again, even as Yuri rolled his eyes at him. Mari has escaped the conversation, coming back and handing him a mug of coffee. “Yurio ate breakfast. We… go to Fukuoka… ten o clock?” Mariko wiggled her hand side to side, unsure. Viktor grinned. This made things a lot easier—the gift of a nickname, just like he had becoming Vicchan and Makkachin turned into Makka-chan those months before. “Yurio will be easier than Yuratchka for them.” Viktor mused, staring at the old article from his junior years “Don’t worry. I won’t be in your way much longer.” Yuri said with a sour taste in his mouth. He almost took a little pleasure in the smile disappearing from Viktor lips. “You just got here. And I haven’t seen you in months.” “Whose fault is that?” Yuri instantly felt a little twinge of regret at the guilt that clouded over Viktor’s face. “Mine. But sometimes people make hard decisions. And I am happy with my decision.” “Yakov didn’t think you’d be taking this long.” “I honestly didn’t think I would either. My plans changed.” “You had a plan?” Yuri scoffed at him again, “You ran off to Japan to a guy you barely knew and you had a plan?” “I was going to ask him to come back to St. Petersburg” Viktor sighed “And?” “His family. I couldn’t do that. And they became my family too.” Yuri worried his bottom lip, staring down at the table. Silence stretched between them. “And… I’m sorry for leaving my skating family behind.” Viktor breathed out, closing his eyes. “Will you ever come back?” Viktor opened his eyes. “Of course—“ “Don’t lie.” “I…don’t know. I love Yuuri. If he has cancer… I can’t take him away from his family. Or leave him. I’m old enough to retire anyway.” The table shook and rattled with the force of Yuri’s punch. “Don’t you dare! I didn’t work this hard for all these years for you to give up before I get to skate against you!” Viktor couldn’t help but smile. Even with the constant anger and power from the little punk… it was nice to know that he was still considered a rival. Or someone to look up to at least. “I’ve missed you, my little Yuratchka..” -- Viktor knew Yuri had had enough of hospitals in his life already. Which was why, instead of joining them in the van for the drive to Fukuoka, Viktor stayed behind. He knew the way to Ice Castle by heart, and from there he could extrapolate to the main shopping street. He could entertain Yuri with the discount clothing store full of tacky prints, and there was always something new at the 100 yen store. Barring that, he could drag Yuri to the gaming center that had a fairy floss machine next to all the photo booths. Maybe it would keep him distracted too. The two Russians stood on the driveway after seeing the Katsuki’s off, the onsen closed for the day. Which wasn’t reassuring in the slightest. But he knew Yuuri would tell him. And Yuuri was coming home. If there was one good thing Viktor was good at, it was hiding from pain. “So, Yurio—what would you like to do first? We can—“ “I want to skate.” “Seriously? You’re skipping school and coming to Japan to skate?” Viktor laughed, but it died in his throat at the look Yuri gave him. “Okay. That wasn’t fair. We’ll skate, only for a few hours. Tell me before you get tired.” Viktor continued, heading back inside to get his bag. -- Although he was sure there was something in the fridge, it still felt wrong to go through someone else’s fridge while they weren’t home. Which is why Viktor stopped at a 7-11 conbini on the way home from Ice castle. He had forgotten that this was an experience of its own, and let Yuri explore the store on his own while he stared at the dessert case. He picked up the exact kind of pudding Yuuri had barely been able to stomach the night before, turning it over in his hands. He stared at the flower shaped bottom of the container, the caramel syrup settling to the side of the container. He added two more containers, one for each Yuri, before looking for something a little more substantial. “Yuri! Over here!” Viktor called, hoping Yuri would listen before he noticed the magazine corner was mainly meant for adults and definitely not for a pubescent foreigner. Yuri came over with a basket of his own, looking starry-eyed. “Viktor, they have soft serve in a freezer.” He held up a perfectly shaped ice cream cone that looked like it had just been pulled out of a machine. Viktor shuffled through Yuri’s basket, through the Pop Star potato chips, grimacing as he came across the ‘Coque d’Asse’ cookies and Yuri’s wheezy laughter at it. “At least get a sandwich.” Viktor was about to scold himself for sounding too much like a parent, before a rush of déjà vu washed over him. He had done this before, but Yuuri had been there. He had gone through all of the funny snacks, adding a few things with a little more protein and power to get them through training. And of course, Yuuri had been Yuuri. He hadn’t rolled his eyes or scolded Viktor. He brought him over to the cold case, past the packaged salads, to the row of beautifully- cut sandwiches wrapped in plastic wizardry. Each one was cut in a triangle, set side by side, and wrapped in such a way that pulling one tab would divide the package into two neat halves. Yuuri had shared his favorite, the fruit sandwich, layers of seasonal fruit and whipped cream, the soft and slightly sweet shokupan spread with condensed milk. Viktor had grown up never considering sandwich to be a sweet thing, but Yuuri had converted him. Viktor paid for all of it, even though Yuri was a reasonably well-traveler. It felt like passing the favor on, and he had a lot to make up to Yuratchka. Viktor’s stomach sank as the walked up the driveway of Yuutopia only to see the van back. He moved to check his phone, before the passenger door opened, and Hiroko jumped out, opening the back door. Mari slid out, meeting eyes with Viktor, before she took several steps back, her mother moving forward. Viktor first saw his hand, Yuuri letting his mother help him out of the car, although he had been capable of it for months before. He looked unsteady on his feet.. or was Viktor just over analyzing it? “Viktor?” He called out, and Viktor’s stomach plummeted. “Yuuri!” He dropped the bag he had from the konbini, running forward, to Yuuri. He thanked every god and God and goddess in the world, because Yuuri immediately melted into his free arms. “I’m sorry.” Viktor could feel Yuuri’s voice vibrate against his chest, but the words didn’t make any sense. What was there to be sorry for? Yuuri’s shoulders jerked, and Viktor’s shirt tightened as Yuuri’s fingers twisted the fabric and tightened into fist. Viktor’s stomach felt as if it filled with ice water. “What’s wrong, Yuuri?” Viktor breathed, barely able to force his lips into the words. He focused on holding Yuuri up, gently caressing the side of Yuuri’s face that wasn’t buried in his shirt.

“It’s cancer.” Yuuri looked up, his eyes full and spilling over with heavy tears.

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green-and-greener · 5 years

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Is That Shit Or Marmite? and other such existential questions

There’s a brown mark on the wall of the toilet here and I really like to believe that it isn’t poo, hence the question above.

Today I’ve really put a lot of effort into looking after myself; I’ve eaten two apples and an orange, had salad at lunch and only one cup of caffeinated tea over the course of the whole day, brushed my teeth and slept for eleven hours last night, after falling asleep listening to a podcast about the importance of libraries. Because! This past week I have struggled to take care of myself! Being in London for XR related stuff started off wonderful + empowering but I really struggled with the divide I felt. XR Mach, who I travelled down with and tried to be with for the time I was there, already know and trust each other, had established plans and strategies, and faith in the collective group. This was lacking in my experience, and I know that for next time I need to be around people I’ve spent time with beforehand.

It was scary, in a lot of ways. Being so close to the police and yet so distinct was an interesting dynamic that I thought about a lot and have real issues with, actually. Of course these people are compassionate and have lives and feelings and probably care about similar things to what the activists do, but their paychecks come from people who want to suppress change. It made me want to study the police as a concept, and do lots of research into what alternatives there are. Actually, I read about how someone had performed a citizens arrest because all the police resources in London were being used on the protest, and how that went. I have no one clear feeling about this: I am angry that the police are more concerned with protecting the government from criticism and pressure to change than protecting people from thieves. (But wait!!! The rich and powerful *are* thieves!!) A situation I was actually very literally in was where I was holding this pink metal barrel and a policeperson forcibly took it from me without even talking to me, and when I repeatedly asked under what power they were taking my property, they didn’t even respond to me. Tents, bags, and later wheelchairs (I wasn’t actually there for this but I’ve seen photos and read reports) were also taken from civilians with no explanation. When I asked the officer standing guard around this pile of stolen goods, again, the grounds on which all these things were being taken, they told me (in memory, section 18, which I’ve just googled and refers to serious bodily harm so I think it must have been something else - but if my memory is correct, I was lied to and this very much makes the case for everyday people needing to be educated/ educate themselves on the law!!) some number and I asked how I would get it back and they said I needed to file a complaint and email people and provide evidence that this barrel was mine. I’m not gonna lie to you girls, it got me pretty riled up. The power dynamic and fear factor of the police was something I really wasn’t aware of to the extent I am today!! The police WILL tell you they’re going to arrest you and then walk away!!! Isn’t that funny!!!! There were also tonnes of people believing in the same stuff which obviously was very cool and encouraging and I danced a LOT which was just SPLENDID and the kitchens set up to provide everyone w hot food were fantastic and the sense of supporting each other was really very strong. I am glad I was there for it. Coming out into the real world again afterwards was healing, too, because I got so sucked into the actions and survival instinct of just wanting to not get arrested at that very second and reading all the messages on email and Signal and Telegram and WhatsApp and all the meetings and citizens’ assemblies (which were INCREDIBLE as a framework for democratically arriving at decisions - if you ever get a chance to facilitate/take part in one, please do, and then think about how current systems favour people with more education + confidence + eloquence, and what that means for decision-making processes and outcomes). Just,,,,,very very whelming. Really so whelming.

So I went to Emma’s and was looked after by my incredible and highly lovely aunt who made me tea and listened to me cry and ushered my cousins out of my room and fed me salads and roast potatoes and was just,,,,, like a healing angel and the maternal presence that I really needed. I called my mum and told her what had happened and she told me missing me was like a hole in her heart that she couldn’t think about too much because it was just too painful. My life and the troubles it invokes are a great cause of stress for her at the moment. I wonder often about how my life can fit back alongside my family’s. I want to be part of Beans’ childhood, and I want to make and build things with my parents while they still have the resolve to make and build things. (I’m listening to Rhubarb by Aphex Twin and thinking about this at the same time is getting me right in the tear ducts aha.)

Rosie hosted me for most of the time I was going to the protests, and was so wonderful + hospitable and we soaked chickpeas and ate them on the tube and then had a day with Finn (actually the very same day the police took our barrels) and ate ginger flopjocks outside the Home Office together. I love her very deeply and am so grateful <3

Emma told me to follow love. There was a lot of reluctance within me! I was very scared of going to him and then having to heal again, not seeing him for many months. But there was something in the way she talked about love and loss that drove me to go to him.

So I went to Guildford and he picked me up at the train station and we bought cucumbers and ate one, holding hands and waiting for Ulla, his grandma, to pick us up. I am very much still in love with him.

There were many kinds of mushrooms growing in their lawn, and dusty boxes of metal trinkets in the garage. Talking about it now it feels like a strange and magical place, and I want to write a song about being there.

Bo called me on Saturday about Junaid. He doesn’t want to speak to me ever again. He’s in a very dark place, and I understand where his hurtful actions come from, so there are no hard feelings here at all, but I’m absolutely not going to chase him - he is forgiven but kept apart from me. I was very thankful for Bo.

So yes, this period of my life has been peculiar in its small-pieced-ness, in its ungrounded-ness, and its ticking-off-items-on-my-bucket-list-ness (falling in love with a stranger! political march! no plans movement!), and I’m still learning to take my own self-care advice. When I got back to my room it still smelled like cinnamon + lemon, the candle Emma gave me for my birthday, and had the physical warmth to accompany the emotional to welcome me back to this place I will be at home for the winter.

#coming home

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