#it's so much easier to share the weight together when you aren't the only one to carry it right?

[trashlie]

Manifesting Stalkyoo~

Just to get it out of the way: PLEASE KNOW THIS IS ALL IN GOOD FUN! I don’t want anyone to take this in a weird way or like it’s some ridiculous demand I’m making lmao. I’ve just been having a delightful time talking to other Stalkyoo shippers and just romanticizing silly things we want to see so again: THIS IS JUST FOR FUN! I know fandom has been weird about shipping stuff because of the... ugly past lol so I feel a weird need to remind people that my shipping is just secondary enjoyment of ILY and that I will continue to love and read ILY wherever it goes. 

With that out of the way lol please also note there are spoilers all the way up to 224, so if you don’t FP episodes, this post is not safe for you! (unless you like spoilers. i don’t judge people, I like spoilers, too) 

Look, I’m not good at writing fanfiction. I’d love to, but I always feel like it’s difficult for me to portray characters the way the original writer does. I think about it, every now and then, dabble in a little idea, something I might like to see, before the storyline plays out in a different way, but I just never trust myself, so this is about the closest I ever get to that. And even still, I think of these little musings, these silly little “oh I’d love to see ______” very inline with fanfiction, wherein I acknowledge that what I’m hoping for or imagining is very likely to not happen. It’s just the fun of exploring story and the what-if’s and little AU tangents where ONE little thing tweaks. 

For me, the fun of shipping is just playing with those character dynamics, which is another reason fic is so difficult for me - I enjoy my pairings, my characters, within their circumstances. That’s not to say AU fics are unfathomable to me (I LOVE THEM), but more so that it’s hard to write something knowing that I don’t know everything, that quimchee will pull out a surprise and I’ll be like oh my god I should have realized! And again, I guess that’s where musing is fun. You get to play out those little what if’s for yourself, get to imagine a scenario that probably will never come to pass. That’s the fun of fic + canon, to me! Not once has quimchee done something with her characters and their story that really surprised me in an “oh i don’t like this” kind of way. I can say “Oh I’d love to see xyz scenario play out” but when instead abc plays out, I’m not mad. 

I also fully admit that I tend to compartmentalize my shipping thoughts and whims separately from my general commentary, and I guess for the previously mentioned reasons: this fandom has an ugly, nasty past with shipping and even still, there are a lot of people who demand romance from ILY and don’t seem to care about the actual story at play or even weirder, seem to think that it detracts from the romance they think should be happening???? (”when is she going to choose one of the brothers it’s been so many years and episodes waaaah) And I guess, yeah, I get a little self-conscious, because (and this is feels so embarrassing to actually word) I acknowledge a lot of people read my commentary and my opinions! And I’m so happy for that, I love being so communal with everyone! But I do get worried someone is going to take something out of context and be like “omg can you believe she’s one of those weirdo romance demanders” or something lmao, hence this weird long useless diatribe. But yeah, basically, I’ve been talking with people lately and god just thinking about my shippy feels and how much I love the current story - one step forward, three steps back; the struggles to open up; the struggles to deal with feelings in the face of much heavier, scarier elements; etc. etc.

Sometimes you just wake up and you’re like: I WANNA SCREAM ABOUT STALKYOO so you do it because you have a birdbrain and you know is screaming afljkfkjafkjakfjaf LMAO 

If you’re reading this, chances are you aren’t new to my blog so you’ve probably read the likes of my Foundations of Stalkyoo, Why I Ship Stalkyoo, and Further Thoughts on Stalkyoo (I just never shut up huh) posts, so I’ll try not to like, completely repeat everything but if it happens well. It can’t helped, can it? lol 

Anyway something I’ve been talking and thus thinking a lot about is where we stand with Stalkyoo, now that we are getting more confirmation of actual budding feelings. I always reiterate that anything can change, but I also like to remind myself that something quimchee has said in the past (and this is loosely paraphrased) is that whenever it does come to a pairing, it will be made obvious before it gets there, because this is NOT a primarily romance-focused story which means there aren’t as many storylines that deal with just the will-they/won’t-they and the likes, and I think likewise, there won’t be a real love triangle the way most fans tend to think of them. So often a love triangle gets boiled down to someone being torn between two people for whatever reason and i just don’t get the sense we’ll be seeing that? Thus, I do feel like we might well be moving into a territory where we will see some kinds of scenes setting up, or maybe better put, enabling the possibility of a relationship between Shinae and Nol? 

But first. I always say I don’t really try to predict things because I’m always proven wrong, but I still like to try for fun lol, just because that’s part of the joy of reading an on-going story, I think! I’ve waffled a lot on it, but I still feel like when we reach our big time skip (not the first one taking us to graduation, but rather the one that jumps us a few years ahead), there has to be a REASON. Narratively it’s hard to imagine what that reason might be beyond the likelihood that we’ll see our three main characters on separate paths. It’s the only thing that makes sense, because otherwise you end up with a lot of story happening off page, right? If Shinae were to go to Japan with Kousuke, we’d end up missing their reconciliation and Kousuke earning her trust (or if it were to go the opposite, becoming cold acquaintances). Thus, I think Kousuke will go to Japan, but Shinae will take Rand’s advice begrudgingly and take up Yui on her “offer, while Nol will probably go to college abroad. He wasn’t denied admission to Oxford - it’s just not guaranteed there will be a spot for him. 

I know people take umbrage with the idea of Shinae taking up Yui’s offer, but hear me out. I don’t think it’s meant to turn Shinae into some kind of conniving, cunning person in the likes of Yui, as much as just introduce her to this world, give her a better understanding of how people in this society and business work and thus, start to get an idea of how Yui works. While I don’t think it’s easy to ever be one step ahead of Yui, I do think developing an understanding of her world helps to at least defend herself from Yui - start to see traps in advance and how to avoid them, find ways to evade her clutches, that kind of thing. I do think the idea of Yui holding that over Shinae’s head is terrifying and it’s feels more dangerous than going to Japan with Kousuke, BUT again, the idea is that she would become better equipped to defend herself and fight back. 

Of course, I don’t think Shinae in this moment is prepared to make that choice, and it may be a choice that comes after Yujing’s big scoop is revealed. Perhaps realizing how much more dangerous and powerful Yui (and the Kims) is would make her see what Rand was trying to tell her. I think she hasn’t fully figured out just what is going on with Yui and Rand, either - why would he be pushing her against his wife? But I think the information Yujing has compiled could help her see that bigger picture. If someone like Rand has spent twenty-five years struggling in this battle with her, how could Shinae ever hope to stand against her with even less understanding, with no sense of WHO Yui is or what makes her tick. 

The thing about this that I always struggle with is: how would Nol regard that? We know he feels vehemently about Alyssa idolizing Yui and taking advantage of her connection to the Hiraharas - and yet he stayed with her, knowing that she benefits from him (but that he does, as well). Would he feel the same, if he found out who was enabling Shinae to go to school? Would they talk about it, since Shinae knows how he feels about it? Would he be able to understand, when even he himself doesn’t seem to realize that his father finds himself trapped by the Hiraharas? That’s... stuff I can’t try to predict, because I think everything is possible. 

I promise I’ll get to that a little more.

The narrative benefit of separating the main characters is, of course, that first off, no major development happens where we can’t watch it. Sure, they’ll go about their lives and things will happen, but I don’t expect it to be major things that would make us go WAIT WHAT?! Otherwise, what brings us back itnto the story after time passes? For a long time my idea was that they’d all go their separate ways and maybe even their relationships would be a little damaged, so that when they come back into each others’ lives, part of the story is recovering that, reconciling with the past and maybe finding new futures together. 

Especially regarding Nol and Shinae, I’d wondered if we would see him leave without reconciling with his friends, and that we’d see him and Shinae meet again after some years and Shinae would have to contend with their unresolved past, with feelings she never had a chance to really identify, let alone explore, and the aching beauty of having to figure out who each other after now that they’ve grown and changed, and if there is room in each others’ lives for one another, if they fit in with who they’ve become. And don’t get me wrong - i do like that kind of bittersweet ache, haunted by the ghosts of what never came to be, having to relearn each other. But the more I’ve talked about this (especially a lot with @bittrbuttr, the more I realized that’s not exactly what I want with them. 

Like, it’s good and achey, it really pulls at your heartstrings. But I think that better suits an actual romance story, where the focus of the story and plot is on those feelings and untangling them, on finding their ways back to each other. I don’t think that’s the story of ILY, though. 

I keep dancing around my point and I apologize, but we all know I’m nothing if not circuitous and I promise we’ll get there! 

Here’s the thing: we know that Nol and Shinae are not in the space to become romantically involved. The feelings are there. They are drawn to each other, we know Nol finds comfort and peace in Shinae and that he always struggles to really push her away. We know that Shinae cares so deeply about him that no matter how much he hurts her, she still wants to try, she still wants to be there for him. I find the hope-tinged pain of 223 really poignant in that way - she wanted to SEE HIM, in a moment that was so special, she wanted to share that joy and get a glimpse at who he REALLY is, and he was unable to do that for her. But still she hopes for the best, still she intends to keep trying, to be as persistent as he was, even if she has to find a different approach. 

They are so important to each other, and I’m hoping that might be a catalyst? 

I understand what Nol’s struggle is. It isn’t easy to be vulnerable, to feel weak, especially when those parts of him have been used against him the last 6 years of his life. He is full of so much self-loathing and isn’t comfortable with his own weakness and vulnerability, thus he can’t show it to Shinae, he doesn’t want her to see him like that. He’d rather let her think he just doesn’t need to see what exists between them, that he doesn’t need to see her indulging because it’s enough to just bring her joy - and that itself hurts enough! But I want him to at least be honest about it - tell her that you don’t want her to see that part of you. Will it change things? Probably not significantly, but it puts her one step closer to understanding doesn’t it? 

And so the thinking is - or rather, the hope - is that maybe Nol will realize this? 

We see some of it in 224. Upon Dieter’s arrival, instead of a hey welcome back or anything, it’s an immediate “Did you bump into Yoo?” and when Dieter reassures him that she’s fine, it’s just stuffy, he knows a. it’s not fine and b. he feels bad. I think he felt that regret immediately, when he noted that she’s angry and he took off the blindfold and she wasn’t there. Nol is so used to pushing people away, it’s his first line of defense, but when it works? When he succeeds at driving that wedge? Again it’s that battle of will vs want - he thinks that pushing her away is the right thing to do for her sake, but he doesn’t ACTUALLY want it. 

It’s so difficult to go back to how things used to be having gotten a taste of something better. It’s so difficult to push out everyone when you’ve allowed yourself to indulge in being loved and cared about, and and I think that’s what Nol’s biggest hurdle is. 

Don’t get me wrong; there’s a lot of hurdles with him lol and clearing one doesn’t exactly make the others any easier to clear. But something we’ve seen from Shinae and that I think the story has tried to impress upon is that things are easier when we aren’t alone. Burdens shared are burdens that weigh a little less. We’ve Shinae and her father talking about being a team - about sharing that burden so it’s not so hard for just one of them and distributing that burden more easily. We’ve seen it in Shinae opening up about her problems with her friends, her insecurities that made her doubt her friendships. Her realization that as scary as situation as her sister breaking into her home was, it was made more bearable with a ragtag group of goofs who will protect her. 

Nol needs to learn to share that burden. He’s spent so long treating himself like an island, he hasn’t had the opportunity to remember that it’s easier to endure something when you aren’t exhausted from shouldering that burden all by yourself. There is strength in numbers. He’s been so run ragged from just trying to endure, trying to get by, trying to survive and how is he to ever fight back against Yui when he’s exhausted just from treading waters? 

I mean, ultimately Nol needs to learn to love himself, but I think it’s easier to tackle allowing others to love him, first. Allowing himself to share the burden, to show those weaknesses and let people have his back. Be able to slump over and know that someone will help keep you standing, you know? And maybe through that, he can find it in him to start loving himself. Of course, he has other problems he needs to address; in order to love himself, he has to forgive himself, and I hope that Yujing’s article can help in that area. I’m sure he carries the guilt of his mother’s alleged suicide, and maybe he was even made to believe that. It wouldn’t surprise me if the time he spent in the mental facility only served to make him feel worse about his existence, made  him believe he was the root cause of the bad. Maybe even, like Nana, he had an argument with his mother before he death and felt that if they hadn’t argued, maybe she would never have made that choice?

Clearly that’s still a little complicated for us to fully dig into, but as horrible as learning that maybe her death was not a choice she made is to learn (I cannot imagine having made this peace with someone I loved reaching a point so dark they made that choice, only to find out that it was, possibly, murder. How do you deal with that? What do you do with all that new grief, that new anguish?), I think maybe, if he learned that she didn’t choose that, it might help free him from his shackles of guilt. 

But I think until he can learn to forgive himself, until he can make that peace, couldn’t letting people love him help? Wouldn’t it be better for him to move forward knowing that he has people who will not only defend him, but who can ease the weight of his burdens? 

As dramatic as Nol and Shinae separating on these rocky grounds, unable to fully reconcile, makes for a good, dramatic romance, I think it’s much better for Nol to move on as a team. To let himself rely on others isn’t something he can learn over night, of course, but isn’t it better for him to enter a scary phase of his life knowing that there ARE people who he can talk to about it? There ARE people he can eventually let see those weak parts of him? 

So my ultimate hope for Nol’s extension is that in that time, he and Shinae find that peace after all. I still can’t help but feel like the three-day-extension is significant, because why else include it, if it was to pass without event? Especially because, depending on how it works (is it 3 additional days INCLUDING the 22nd or 3 days extra, beginning the 23rd?) we’ll hit the holidays. That just feels... too significant, right? 

I want Nol to grapple with his feelings, let his fear take over a little. Is he really as ready to lose Shinae as he tries to be? He seemed to regret hurting her, hanging his head after Dieter reassured him she was fine, even though she refuses to come back in to the room. And I can’t help but feel like it’s significant that she’s still lingering in the waiting room. My thinking is that Nana will get involved - she knows that Nol is upset about someone, she knows other friends have been watching over him, she knows there’s a friend who isn’t coming back in. She can read him well, so it’s not like it’s difficult to read that maybe they had a fight, that he was brusque and brushed her off the way he tries to do even to Nana. Will she go out there to see who this friend is? Will they talk? I feel like they HAVE to - not just because the fandom has waited for it, but because I think Nana can probably glean that Shinae (”Yoo” lol) must be someone important, if he’s acting like that. 

And look. Did Nana see the blush? *I* saw the blush, I’m not getting over that. I’m sorry but he lmao pushed her away, regretted hurting her, and he’s still getting flustered because he pictured her mouth. BUDDYYYYYYYYYYYY. YOU’RE A MESS. 

I don’t expect her to fully intervene in like, trying to make things happen way lmao I think it’s more like... Nana knows better than anyone that Nol is a difficult person to love. I say this with affection, because it’s true. He pushes people away, he deflects from himself, he never opens up, it’s hard to read what’s going on in his head. And Nana also knows of the darkness that looms. She was right there when he pleaded guilty, concerned about his reasoning. She’s listened to him talk about how maybe everything would be better if he didn’t exist. She knows that the darkness has a strong grip on him. So who better than her to encourage Shinae, to thank her for her patience and tenacity, for sticking with Nol even with the way he acts? I’d like to see a little bit of that comfort between them, some reassurance that Shinae is, in fact, making the right choice. She oscillates so wildly between her extreme emotions; sadness and melancholy that caring is not enough and how it sometimes comes out as anger when she can’t find a better way to channel it. We know she doesn’t really regret planning that birthday celebration - she’s just hurt. And I think it would be a big help to have Nana tell her how much it means to see Nol with friends who care about him despite how prickly and difficult he is, how she worries about him and is glad there are people who care about him. I think it would really encourage Shinae that her resolve is right - that she just has to find another way to approach him, that it’s worth the effort. 

And at that same time, yes, I want Nol’s fear to kick his ass. I want him to realize he faces the very real reality of losing someone who cares so much about him, who is willing to put up with him because of how much she cares and how special she is to him - and that she wants him to see it, too. I want him to fear losing the comfort and peace she brings him. I want him to have to finally face head on his want vs what he thinks he deserves, and see what a future without someone like her is like. Can he bear to return to that kind of loneliness? Can he bear losing her concern? How it feels for her to take notice of him, to probe, to listen? 

Like, at the risk of getting really corny and dramatic, that’s what it comes down to. I don’t want Nol to come back in a few years and decide he’s ready to face all of that. I want him to move on from this point knowing he’s not alone. I want him to be able to face prison knowing that he’s not so alone, that there is someone who will always be there to support him. I think that’s what makes the most sense. Leaving on their current circumstances works great if it’s a romance and that’s the main story - but making up, talking, being honest? That makes more sense for THIS story, where Nol starts to grow NOW, where he starts to make those important steps that will help him find his way to healing, and more important, that will help him face the forces that taunt and haunt him.

He doesn’t have to be completely honest with Shinae, because I don’t think he’s ready. I don’t think he’ll tell her that his mother took her life, and that he believes it’s his fault. But I think it would be enough to tell her the truth he couldn’t stay to her face - that he doesn’t want her to see him like that, that it’s still hard for him to open up that way, that it’s still SCARY - but that he doesn’t want to push her away, that he’s sorry he keeps hurting her. We could even go more dramatic with a callback to the hospital scene - that he’s sorry he isn’t good enough and is undeserving of her (AND LET HER REASSURE HIM THAT’S NOT TRUE THAT HE IS). BUT JUST. IDK I WANT HIM TO FACE IT. ADMIT IT.

He doesn’t have to tell her he likes her. That’s fine. Just reiterate what she means to him! One moment he’s telling her she’s special to him, that he cares about her, next moment he’s telling her it’s okay he doesn’t have to look he’s fine like this. STOP JERKING HER AROUND ;~; lmao like don’t get me wrong. I GET IT. I UNDERSTAND HIM!!!!!!!!!!!

But I also want to see them move into our time skips with a sense of understanding and peace, you know? I don’t want want Nol to face his fears alone anymore. I want him to let someone stand by his side. I want him to accept how good it feels to rest on her shoulder and know that it’s okay, she’s there.

I HAVE FEELINGS OKAY I JUST. I WANT THEM TO BE ABLE TO FIND T HAT STRENGTH IN EACH OTHER, TO BE STRONGER TOGETHER. 

And to call back to my earlier point lmao I like to think if they get to that point, then maybe he would understand, if Shinae accepts Yui’s offer. Maybe he would see how it’s different from Alyssa, that Shinae made a choice to protect herself, that it’s not about the idolatry, it’s not a self-serving choice, but one that protects her and enables her to fight back. Knowing that they are on the same side, that Shinae isn’t a doe-eyed naïve girl about to be taken advantage of again, but one who wants to fight back against the people who hurt her and others like her. 

We’re about halfway to 3/5 of the way into this story, and I think that’s a good point for Shinae and Nol to join forces. 

AndlookthisiscompletelydaydreamingbutiftherewasaChristmaskissIwouldcertainlynotobject

PLEASE I JUUUUUUUUUST i want to see them on the same page, I want to see them moving forward TOGETHER. I don’t want Nol to keep walking on his own. I don’t want him to just accept Shinae at his side, either; I want him to CHOOSE to let her choose his side. ;A; 

GOD. PLS. BARKS AT THE MOON I’m just ready for them to bE A TEAM I’M READY FOR NOL TO BE SELFISH AND TO GO AFTER WHAT HE WANTS I WANT HIM TO CHOOSE COMFORT AND SECURITY OVER PUNISHMENT I WANT HIM TO REALIZE THERE IS STRENGTH IN COMPANIONSHIP. I know being close to him puts her at risk - but he needs to see that no matter what, she’s at risk, and isn’t it better if she’s in danger with someone who can help, than to be all alone with it? I WANT HIM TO FACE THAT FEAR OF HIS AND FIND THAT MAYBE HIS DESIRE, HIS WANT, HIS NEEDS ARE EVEN BIGGER. That it’s better to find peace with her than spend the whole time afraid. Isn’t that the thing? He’s always afraid - afraid of someone else getting hurt, afraid of another opportunity being stolen away, afraid of the next time Yui will find a way to hurt him. BUT TO BE ABLE TO FIND COMFORT WITH SHINAE? 

Please. Just open up - be honest!!!!!!! But most importantly APOLOGIZE. Apologize for hurting her, apologize for pushing her away.

I realize, based on what she said on the hospital roof, that maybe he won’t make that choice, that maybe her persistence has to be a long game, that she does have to wait for him to forget to put the mask back on.

But wouldn’t it be so nice if he chose to move forward with her, instead of alone, to face their nightmare and battles together? ;~; 

#I Love Yoo #ILY Brainrot #ILY FP #ILY Spoilers #Stalkyoo #Aegi #Shinae Yoo #Nol #Nolan Oliver T. Lochlainn #LMFAO THIS IS SO LONG-WINDED but i think no one is surprised anymore? #I just!!!!!!!!! #i have this very specific want in mind and if it doesn't happen that's okay because i'm sure it will lead to a better story lmao #BUT I CAN'T HELP BUT LIKE. WANT THIS PARTICULAR THING TO PLAY OUT for the sake of the story #for the sake of the second season #for the sake of what it means to fight against those who harm others just for joy #i'm such a firm believer of shinae and nol being a team and i want to see them be a team together FOR REAL #i want to see nol find it in himself to lean on shinae and find how much stronger he can be if he doesn't have to shoulder a burden alone #it's so much easier to share the weight together when you aren't the only one to carry it right? #and when you aren't run ragged just from sturviving #when you have the time to rest and recharge knowing you are safe #aren't you able to become even stronger? #to face even more? #I JUST WANT THEM TO BE A TEAM ;A;

[bunnyreaper]

𝓷𝓸𝓫𝓸𝓭𝔂 𝓭𝓸𝓮𝓼 𝓲𝓽 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓭𝓸

𝒶 𝒿𝑜𝒽𝓃 𝓅𝓇𝒾𝒸𝑒 𝓍 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇 𝓈𝑒𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈

𝓅𝓉 2 𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒

wc - 5.2k

warnings - 18+/nsfw (eventually), mentions of cheating (not from reader or john), age gap (older male younger female), future daddy kink, mentions of blood

notes - back at it again in dilfville, hopefully, this chapter is worth the wait! ♥ also on ao3! ♥

How easy it is to forget about the outside world with John by your side is startling. Everything other than him melts away into the background, and in the safety and comfort of his home, the two of you exist in your own little peaceful bubble.

In the back of your mind, you know it'll eventually sink to the ground and violently pop, but for now, the two of you float��suspended in tranquility. Your day goes by so easily, as you rest on the couch and watch TV with John—phone forgotten about, troubles set aside. 

John makes it easy to forget. He's always had this way about him, like his mere presence lifts a weight off your shoulders while he carries it, carries you, just for a while, and allows your world to be a little lighter. 

It's later into the evening when you finally find yourself compelled to get off of the couch and actually do something with your day, when John pulls you out of the reverie you'd settled into together.

"I should get on with dinner." He says, slapping his thighs before he rises from the comfort of the couch and the warmth of being your human footrest. 

You're quick to rise too, sitting up straight as you try to recall him to the couch before he can make too much of a fuss. The guilt of taking advantage of his hospitality is already eating at you—regardless of how illogical it may be.

"Let me do it." You plead. "You're kind enough to let me stay here, at least let me repay you." 

John pauses, his eyes narrowing at you briefly before one of his thick eyebrows arches. "Darling, aren't you bloody sick of cooking?" 

Even when he's giving so much, he's still exceedingly considerate. 

"Only when cooking for a man who doesn't appreciate me, otherwise I enjoy it." You climb to your feet with a smile, making your way over to John to gently push him in the direction of the kitchen. Whilst he moves with a stubbornness, you know he's still letting you push him, otherwise you know you wouldn't be able to move him an inch. 

A smirk tugs at his lips, hidden behind his thick beard as he finds himself amused by your antics. The levity you bring to his otherwise burden-filled life is not something that goes unrecognised by him—not now, not ever.

Finally, he truly relents, letting you direct you both into the kitchen, moving himself enough to make your job of pushing him easier. "If you want to help, I wouldn't mind your company."   

Your hands withdraw from the warm, broad expanse of his back and settle by your sides, as you feel the need to pull away from him the second it's no longer necessary—scared by how good the physicality felt, even if it was entirely playful in nature. It's been so long since you felt so light and got to share it with someone else, an age since you indulged in light-hearted touch. 

"What's on the menu?" You ask as you move to the sink and force yourself into doing something to keep you busy—tackling the dishes seems like a good idea for being both helpful and suitably occupied. 

John makes his way to the fridge, swinging open the heavy door of the American-style fridge-freezer with ease, and immediately moving to grab fresh ingredients. "Spag Bol." 

"Ooh, your signature dish." You coo, recalling fondly the many occasions he has hosted you for dinner in the past.

Dinners had become a regular thing when John and James had been getting to know each other, with you often there as a buffer—not that you did it begrudgingly or ever minded so much. Getting to know John was an unexpected delight, and as the two of you recently agreed, a friendship had formed—regardless of your relationship with his son. You'd spent many nights over at his for dinner or drinks—good food and delightful conversation, memories you treasured.

Even in the beginning, John's protective and caring nature had extended to you almost immediately—a natural extension, you’d presumed, of his growing bond with his biological son. He'd dropped off meals for you when you were sick, memorised your tea and coffee preferences, always took the time to buy you a thoughtful gift for Christmas and birthdays. 

John cuts through your trip down memory lane with the thud of him putting a pile of ingredients down on the countertop. "Well, I know you love it so much. Went to the shops last night to get everything." 

An exasperated sigh leaves you. For a man so good at taking care of others, there were times when John Price's self-care was severely lacking. As the sink fills with sudsy, hot water, you pin John with your most intimidating glare. "When do you ever even sleep, John?" 

He returns your look for the briefest moment, then smirks at your attempt to look authoritative. "I sleep plenty, don't you worry." 

A realisation seems to strike him a moment later.

John heads over to the record player in the corner, flipping the switch and setting down the needle. 

It's easy for John to succumb to the relaxed atmosphere of his kitchen—music playing and you by his side. His fingers drum against the turntable stand as the opening notes of the rock-reggae fill the room and quiet any further chastisement from you.

"Young teacher, the subject of schoolgirl fantasy—" John's voice carries louder than the vocals, a smooth tone you've heard so rarely before—John only sings when he feels most at peace. 

Whilst his voice is beautiful, the subject matter of the song almost feels inappropriate in the moment, though the way your cheeks flush makes you think it's just you projecting.

"Oh my god, John." You groan playfully, rolling your eyes and watching as he sways his hips ever so slightly as he makes his way back over to you, still softly singing the words. 

He stops singing as he steps beside you at the sink, leaning onto the counter slightly with a hint of a smirk on his face and an incredible amount of mirth in his eyes. For once, he seems so light.

"Never had a crush on an older man?" He asks, his tone light and yet still with a hint of teasing. Perhaps he thinks your opposition to the song is your lack of relating to it, rather than the fact you relate a little too much. 

You're not sure when it really started, or when it escalated uncontrollably, but lately, you've been looking at John in a different light. It's probably the combination of the heartbreak, the sleep deprivation, and the beard. You were always a sucker for a gruff-looking, unavailable older gent. 

And now here one is singing a song about forbidden love, lovers separated by age—like he knows what you're thinking, what you're feeling.

"Obviously I have." You scoff, almost dismissively, as you turn to slip the first few dishes into the water. John stays silent for a moment, and curiosity gets the better of you. "Ever had a crush on a younger woman?" 

He barks out a laugh, pushing himself away from the counter as you see him shake his head and suck in his lips. "No comment."  

Your mind starts to wander, as you try to think about what kind of woman catches John Price's eye. His circumstances are difficult and his standards clearly high, as he hasn't been in a relationship in the years you've known. John nudges you with his hip, as he leans over the sink to start washing his hands.

His warmth is overwhelming beside you, and only spreading further. You try to focus on anything but his large hands, as he covers them in the suds he works up from the soap. You try not to stare at the way he grips the bar, and practically chokes the block with his fingers, nor how he works the creamy lather up his hairy forearms.

But you’d be lying if you said the plate in your hands got any cleaner. Of course, you could blame your stillness on courtesy—you're just giving him the space he needs to wash his hands so he can get on with cooking, nothing more.

"Zenyatta Mondatta is a classic." He all but whispers from above you, as if he still feels the need to justify his album choice. 

"Best album the year you were born?" 

"I was born 81, not 80, bun." He tuts, shaking off the excess wetness from his hand before he reaches around you to grab the hand towel from where it's threaded through the handle of the cupboard beside you. 

Your grip on the plate tightens exponentially despite the slippery surface, as a cascade of shivers passes over your body and pools low in your gut. 

The tension in your body feels like it's ready to snap at any moment, and yet just before it can, John pulls away, and a cold sweeps back in.  

"Don't stand, don't stand so close to me." His singing almost taunts you as he saunters back over to his ingredients and gets to work. 

You try to focus again on the dishes in the sink. Yet, you couldn't wipe the wide smile off your face if you tried, exhilarated by life's simple pleasures—by the way, it seems that colour is starting to bleed back into your life in all these little moments. A flurry of feelings you haven't felt in so long floods you, too. 

"Forgot how much I love being in the kitchen with other people." You laugh, verbalising your happiness in a fairly throwaway comment. 

"Kitchens are the heart of the home, as they say." John replies, and you can tell he's smiling fondly, probably recalling the nights spent at his kitchen island with you, James, and the other people lucky enough to be in his life. 

After a moment, he continues on, yet his tone is more somber than before. "You know, sweetheart, I wish I'd have known sooner how he really treated you." 

You wonder if it would've made a difference. 

"He's just not for me, he's not necessarily bad just... okay, I mean besides the cheating." You say, wrinkling your nose with disgust—still, you find yourself making excuses for him, finding ways to soften the blow. 

John sighs. "You give him too much credit, love." 

It feels wrong somehow to open up to John about this, despite his soothing on the matter. "It wasn't fair for me to talk to you about that stuff, even if you do give the best advice. Still doesn't feel fair, really." You grumble as you scrub at a bowl, removing the dirt.

"And what about what's fair and best for you, hmm?" John's chopping grows louder, more erratic, as his frustration flows through his arm and his wrath is taken out on the raw onions. "For crying out loud, the lad cheated on you. I have half a mind to go over there myself to finish what we started earlier." 

You shrug, entirely uncertain of how to untangle the messy web that is your emotions. Guilt, relief, anger, and peace all swirl together, with no one feeling jumping out clearly and continuously beyond the others.

"Look at me," John calls your attention to him, only speaking again once you do. The look on his face is deeply sincere, his eyes betraying the emotion within. "Once you're on your feet again, if you want nothing to do with me, all you have to do is say. Otherwise, I'll be in your life for as long as you let me." 

Fuck.

"That's reassuring." You nod, smiling genuinely, yet you try to restrain it lest you betray how much it really means to you. "Yeah, I guess, as you said earlier, we're friends."

You say it more to convince yourself, as it's a truth that isn't going to change regardless of a silly schoolgirl crush. 

"Not planning on changing that unless you are, love." John smiles. 

See, you say to yourself, he's all but confirmed it too. "I'm glad some things are going to stay the same..." You mutter, though there is some sincerity and reality to your statement. "Especially when everything else is about to get turned upside down."

"I suspect you'll be better off when the dust settles." 

"I hope so." 

You turn back to the dishes, trying to focus on the music rather than the thoughts that battle against John's soothing words. His quiet company helps stave off some of the discontent, the sound of him cooking and singing quietly providing a safety blanket around you. 

"Do have to let you know I got the call, leaving sooner than I would've liked." 

"When?" You feel yourself stiffen. Every time John leaves, you're always a little on edge—and yet, with the circumstances, this time just feels worse. 

"Tomorrow." He admits softly. 

"You've only been back a matter of days." Your heart pangs.

He scoffs. "No rest for the wicked, eh?"

"It's gonna feel weird getting settled in here, but especially alone." You offer up your honesty, in the hopes it'll alleviate the gentle crushing of your chest, yet you try to remain stony-faced.

"One big change at a time, love." John's voice is soothing, as he attempts to reassure you. "Change of scenery, then change of roommate. It'll give you a chance to just be free of Price men for a moment." 

"He's not really a Price..." You sigh, because maybe if he were, things would've been different. If John had raised him... would he be a better man? Not that you believe his mother is to blame for his issues, but you know from James' occasional rants that he didn't have a male figure he respected growing up. 

"I suppose not." Behind your back, John shrugs. "Point still stands, though. While I'm not thrilled about the idea of you being all alone, at least it gives you some space to think of what comes next." 

"I guess it does." You sigh and try to focus on that thought—time to figure things out and feel the relief of being free. A wry laugh leaves you when you realise John has managed to reframe his departure as a positive thing. "Fuck, I hate how you always make me feel better." 

"Hah, add it to my list of crimes." 

A beat passes before a stray thought pops into your head. "If you're headed back, does that mean you'll be shaving?" 

You crane your head around just in time to see John pause, turn, and stroke at his beard.

"Don't know. What do you think?" He continues to stroke at the grown-out brown hair, as you get lost taking in his features and the way that they seem to look so different with his new, fluffier style.

"Feel like you've been staring at it a lot, not sure if it's a good thing or a bad thing." He chuckles, his smile tight-lipped and a touch self-conscious in a way that only you can bring out of him.

"Somehow, it makes you look..." Your brain scrambles for an adjective that isn't 'daddier'. "... younger?" 

On anyone else, a full beard would likely age them, but compared to John's usual old-timey war general look, it gives him more of a casual, handsome look. You remind yourself to ask for pictures of what he looked like before he grew facial hair.

"Ageing myself prematurely with the mutton chops, then?" He frowns ever so slightly, though you know his pout is completely playful.

You throw your head back with a laugh. "Thought that's why you did it, to really solidify your authority." 

"Don't need any kind of facial hair for that, love." He purrs, sending a shiver down your spine. 

You force your attention back to the dishes and school your expression into something more neutral, dunking in all the cutlery in at once as you desperately begin to clean. It's a clear attempt to make sure John doesn't notice your reaction to his words.

"Whatever you say, John." You mutter, trying to end the conversation before it spirals any further out of control. 

He laughs, hums, then casually says something you never expected. "Mmm, now that's what I like to hear." 

"Ow, fuck!" You yell as pain sears through your skin, a knife hidden in the soapy water slicing through your skin at the momentary distraction.

John is over in a flash, coming to your aid and pulling your hand into his grasp so he can inspect the wounds. "Christ, love, are you alright?" 

"Fine, I mean, it's only small." Each word is through gritted teeth, as you try to tough it out in front of John.

Despite the fact the incisions across your fingers aren't particularly deep, they bead with crimson blood and pulse with stinging pain.

"Right, that's enough. Sit down." One of John's hands remains holding your hand while the other settles on your shoulder, and he manoeuvres you to one of the stools at the kitchen island. He pays no mind to the way your soaked arm drips onto his t-shirt and jeans, too focused on his mission.

"Yes, sir." You say absentmindedly, feeling like one of his men—you don't notice the way he stiffens, his touch getting a fraction tighter, as his body and mind jolt at such simple words. 

He doesn't meet your eye, instead inspecting the cuts before turning to grab the first aid kit he keeps under the sink. "Doesn't look like it'll need stitches." 

"This isn't a battlefield injury, John, and I'm not a child!" You can't help but pout exaggeratedly, as not only does it convey your meaning, but it helps disguise your wince as John cleans, dries, and dresses your cuts.   

"No more washing up. Don't give me that look." He fixes you with a look and a stern point that just dares you to challenge him, and for a moment, you glare right back at him. 

In the end, you know you stand no chance of winning against the formidable foe that is protective, Papa Bear John Price. One time you insisted on washing up after he cooked, and he followed you into the kitchen to turn off the water main, just to show you how serious he was that you sit down and fucking relax. 

"Fine." You sigh, as John's moment as a nurse comes to a close, with him finishing your dressings and packing away the first aid kit.

"Sit pretty. Food won't be too long." He tells you before he returns to the pans on the hob, checking on the spaghetti and stirring the bolognese. 

The fragrance from the stewing sauce surrounds you, making your mouth water in anticipation of John's signature dish. It doesn't distract you from the pain completely, but it at least gives you something to focus on as you try to ignore it. 

"Can I... ask something that I've been wondering about for a while?" You ask, propping your head on your non-injured hand as you watch John work.

"Of course." He nods, eyes flickering to meet yours briefly.

"Have you and James' mum ever talked about... you know, everything?" You resist the urge to pick at the medical tape securing the bandage to your skin, as you know that eventually it's going to come off. "I don't know why I never asked before, guess I felt awkward, and I tried asking James, but he never wanted to talk about it." 

John pauses, taking a moment to think. "We met for coffee once, after I first found out. She was very apologetic, explained her side of things." 

It's easy for you to tell, having grown accustomed to his expressions, that there's more to the story than he lets on. John always tends to play his cards close to his chest when it comes to his inner workings, asking more questions than he ever answers, but you're used to that look in his eyes whenever there's something he's holding back. 

At least, you like to think so. If you're good at telling when he's withholding, you're even better at not pressing him, at least under usual circumstances. Today, something compels you to ask more. 

"Do you... resent her for what she did?" 

"No." He answers, a little too quickly, before rolling his shoulders and straightening his posture. "Maybe I should, maybe I should resent the fact I missed his childhood. I suppose I do, but I would never have had the life I've had otherwise." 

"Figured I might still have the chance to be a dad, but would've never had the chances I did had I not joined the army." 

The insight into John's mind is fascinating, intoxicating, even. It's hard to imagine him as anything other than a captain, even if father and family man suits him quite well too. 

"You wouldn't have joined up if you'd known?" You ask, questions still tumbling out of you as curiosity about John leaks out of every pore. 

"No." He pauses, pressing his hands into the counter. Finally, he looks at you with stormy, emotion-filled eyes. "Would've stayed, married her. Done the right thing." It looks like it pains him to admit it, as his brows furrow and his lips tighten.

"Wow. Must be weird seeing her now, knowing she could've been your wife." You probably shouldn't have said it aloud, but the thought of that different reality is so jarring to you that it slips before you can stop it.

"She's a stranger, really." He shrugs.

"A stranger you had sex with... once upon a time." You say, squinting as you try to imagine John and James's mum sharing anything beyond pleasant smiles and polite small talk. 

"Barely." A dismissive scoff leaves him, as he picks up the wooden spoon and returns his attention to his cooking. 

"Barely? What does that mean?" 

"Well, it was only once, and even then... every man has to learn somehow, love." John says the words as if they're so casual, yet they cause heat to rush to your cheeks.

"Your son still hasn't learned at all." You say the words without thinking, a tinge of bitter resentment bursting through. "Sorry, fuck." 

"S'fine." John tries his hardest to stifle the smile that tugs at the corner of his lips, practically throwing himself into grabbing bowls and cutlery to serve up the meal. "He really didn't know how to handle you, did he, love?" 

Your chest seizes once more—guilt, indignation, amusement, confusion. There's a hope within you that when the dust is all settled, you'll end up with someone like John, someone who can treat you better. 

"No, he didn't..." You admit weakly, before checking yourself. "Sorry, I think the pain and the blood loss are making me woozy. I'm gonna stop talking now." 

John only smiles understandingly, eyes shining with mirth, as he passes you an oversized bowl filled with delicious spaghetti. He takes a seat beside you, knee knocking into yours as he makes himself comfortable— his warmth feeling too close for comfort and yet not close enough at all. 

"Eat up, darling girl." 

********

You and John finish up your meal in companionable silence, accompanied by the rest of the tracks on the current vinyl. As always, John's cooking leaves you full and satisfied, warm from the inside out.  

Once more, you're banned from washing dishes and were only able to get on drying duty after begging John and pulling out your most convincing doe eyes. The night ended with you both turning in sooner than usual, in anticipation of John's departure the next morning.

Usually, you last saw John off when he came to visit you and James, putting on a brave face and wishing him well. You're thankful that with the new proximity, you can at least fret in the privacy of your new bedroom, away from John's worrying eyes—the last thing he needs to see before he leaves is your tear-stained cheeks. 

Sleep doesn't come easily, as you toss and turn in bed and try not to think of being alone in the coming days, or the possibility of something happening to John. 

When sleep finally does come, you wake in a panic—sweaty and dry-mouthed. The nightmare that plagued you is hard to recall, the only thing burning in your mind is the final scene. You have to flee into the night, and you're desperate to grab something to cover up with so you don't freeze to death—you can't find anything warm anywhere. The image quickly fades away as you blink your eyes open.

You roll over to the side of the bed, clutching your phone and practically burning your eyes when the screen blares into your corneas. 

3:59. 16 minutes to your alarm. 

With John's departure fast approaching, you throw yourself out of bed, grabbing your cardigan and wrapping it around yourself before you head in the direction of John's room. 

The door is closed firmly, likely to quiet any noise he makes from rustling around in preparation. You knock lightly on the wood, waiting for John to call you in. 

You step in, taking in John's appearance. It seems he decided to keep the outgrown facial hair after all, the fluffy beard leading down to the chest hair poking out from the top of a soft grey cotton tee. 

The dog tags around his neck are the only nod to his upcoming deployment, as he leaves John behind and heads off to become Captain Price.

He smiles as soon as he sees you, though it doesn't escape your notice that it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Hope I didn't wake you." 

"Nah, can't sleep." You explain, as you make your way further into the room and perch yourself on the end of John's bed gingerly. "Figured I'd make you sick of me, so you're glad to be away." 

You peer into the holdall that John's currently packing things into, inspecting his contents and mentally ticking items off a checklist.

"Don't think anything could make me glad of that, love." He frowns, pausing as he expertly folds a t-shirt and places it in his bag. "Especially at a time like this."

"I'll be fine." You say it for his sake, even if you don't entirely believe it. Your number one priority right now is sending him off with a smile. 

As you spot one of his signature beanies poking out of a side pocket, you pluck it off the duvet and pull it over your bedhead. "Maybe I'll just run riot while you're gone, throw all your cigars in the bin, and steal every beanie you own." 

That brings a smirk out of him, the worry clearing from his eyes. "Evil girl." 

"Yeah, I'm a right menace." You confirm, a gleeful smile spreading across your face unrestrained. 

Several things stand out to you in the bag or surrounding it—the sunglasses case, a tan-coloured rag, and John's beloved boonie hat. Your quick inspection gives you an insight into where John is headed—flip-flops again, you joke to yourself. 

"Guessing you're off to some shitty desert then." You comment, not intending to pry any further. 

"Feel like I never leave them." He notes—that wry smile returning to his face as he meets your gaze. 

"Have you packed your sun cream?" You ask, half joking and half serious. 

"Wouldn't hear the end of it if I didn't, hmm?" He chuckles knowingly, likely recalling the last time he came home with a sunburn and was met with your impassioned rant. He'd learned his lesson at least. 

"And the moisturiser we got you for Christmas?" 

"Already packed." He pats the toiletry bag on the bed, and you rush to pick it up, unzip it, and verify his claim.

"Lip balm?" You ask, peering up at him with a mischievous grin, just waiting for his reaction.

"Now you're just taking the piss." 

You pull your beanie down low on your forehead, just as you've seen John wear it, then you cross your arms across your chest and drop your voice. "Sorry lads, cover my six, gotta get my Burts Bees on." 

At that, he belly laughs. "I'd never live it down, and you wouldn't do that to me, would you?"  

You rise from the bed, laughing with him, before you remove the beanie and reach up to place it over his head instead. "No, Captain." You whisper, grin bright. 

"You're a handful, love." Despite his words, the fondness in his voice is clear as day.

You tap his cheek playfully before stepping away. "Well, fear not, like I said, you're rid of me for a little while." 

"Desert doesn't seem so bad now you mention it." John rolls his eyes playfully, before turning to add the final items and zipping up the bag beside him. 

"Have you got everything you need?" You ask, instinct taking over as you begin to fret over ensuring everything is perfect for John's departure. 

"I do know how to pack for myself, but if you want me to humour you..." John's hands fall to the zip, ready to tear the bag open if it would rid you of the concerned frown growing on your face. 

You back away, hands raised. Point taken, you think to yourself. "I'm used to fussing, okay." 

"You and me both." He nods, then shoulders the bag and gestures for you to head out of the room. 

You lead the way like heading up a death march, slow gait and head lowered, knowing what's to come. With each step, a sense of dread grows within you. John is leaving, and there's seemingly an unspoken agreement between you both that something about this time feels more severe. 

When you both reach the door, John shrugs on his sherpa-lined jacket, ties up his boots, and stands as he summons up the nerve to leave. 

Once again, a half-hearted smile graces his face, as he reaches out to rub at your arm. "I'll call you when I'm headed back from base, yeah?" 

You nod, blinking back the tears that threaten to bead in your eyes, once more putting on a brave face. The mention of his call makes your mind flicker to your usual routine.

"Will you be going to see—" 

"No love. I'll be coming straight home." He interrupts, squeezing you before withdrawing as if it burns to touch you.

"Stay safe, John." You whisper, the words you say every time coming easily. You swear to yourself that the words act as protection, or at least, you hope they do. 

"Always, love." He nods, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to your forehead. Then, he opens the door and steps over the threshold. "Anything you need, I'll get back to you when I can, yeah?" 

"Yeah." You nod, struggling to get out even a word as your throat tightens. 

"See you soon, darling girl." He calls out, and you watch him until his truck pulls out of the street and off toward danger.

#captain price x reader #john price x reader #captain john price x reader #captain price #captain john price #john price #call of duty x reader #nobody does it like you do #call of duty fanfiction #spotify

[whovianwatchingstartrek]

A Whovian Watches Star Trek for the First Time: Part 020 - Another Prison Break

Star Trek: Enterprise - Season 1 Episode 21 - Detained

The episode throws us right into the plot, even in the cold open, by having Mayweather and Archer wake up in some prison, where the majority of the prisoners are Suliban. Supposedly, these people have been at war with the Suliban Cabal, presumably part of the Temporal Cold War that's been brought up a few times throughout the series.

It appears however, that most of the Suliban in the prison aren't part of the Cabal. The Prison's warden was at first compliant, but immediately turns a lot more hostile once Archer starts talking to the Suliban. This episode unmistakably a Sci-Fi metaphor for the American Interment Camps in World War 2, and the episode even directly states the connection. The situation was covered with the weight the topic deserved.

Archer has a lot of great moments in this episode, making friends with the Sulibans. Honestly though, this should have been at least partially a Mayweather focus episode. We have two crew members in the prison, the script seems determined to give all the story beats to Archer. As a Character, he's definitely been given the Shaft in this series. Twenty episodes in, and he's only really had one focus episode to shine in, and even there he was overshadowed. In this episode, his lines are mostly just questions to get exposition, nothing really character development. Can some episodes please give this man something to do?

Aside from Travis feeling more like set-dressing than a character, the episode was a really really good episode about Governmental Racism and overreach during times of war. This was a very enjoyable episode, and I loved seeing the plan come together. And leaving it on the somewhat dark not of the question "will they be alright" unanswered was brilliant. This episode certainly hits my top 5 so far!

This episode does notably share a title with an Episode of the Doctor Who Spin Off, Class. I'm still deciding on my arbitrary rules for the Same Episode Title Segment thing, but I'll do it here. I don't like Class, but blocking off Class but still doing SJA and TW for these things would feel wrong. So:

Comparing my Enjoyment of this Episode with a Doctor Who Universe Story of the Same Title

Class: Episode 6 - Detained

This is gonna be a long one, it's probably going to be my only chance to talk about this Spin Off.

Class as a Spin Off series was cancelled after one season, and it's a common opinion that the BBC never really gave it the chance it deserved, it aired during the 2016 gap year when the general audiences weren't thinking about Doctor Who and the marketing for never really made it clear who the audience was supposed to be.

That said, when it aired, I didn't really like it. It felt like it was combining the worst aspects of the other two Spin Off, SJA and Torchwood, without anything that made those series so great. It also doesn't help that SJA and TW were given multiple seasons to outgrow their issues, whereas Class only has it's very flawed 8 episode run.

But wider series issues aside: This particular episode of Class consists of the main cast, minus it's most interesting character, trapped in room in the void with an alien rock called "The Prisoner" that radiates Anger, and when you touch it makes you relive traumatic memories when you pick it up and speak unspoken truths. Which is good set up for character drama. And, they do a lot with it. Every character does get a shot with the Rock. This is one of the better episodes of Class, and one that sadly showcases what could have been if the series was given a chance, but the episode focusses way too much on the Relationship dramas of the cast, and I simply don't care enough about these characters to be invested in

Both the Enterprise "Detained" and the Whoniverse "Detained" were enjoyable, but I found the Star Trek enterprise episode a lot easier to watch, mainly because enjoying the Class episode involved getting over the fact that I don't like the series as a whole.

I hope I don't come across overly negative about Doctor Who in these title sharing ones, I swear I do actually like Doctor Who, Star Trek episodes just seem to share titles with the Bad Parts of Who

#whovian watching star trek #star trek #star trek enterprise #star trek ent #star trek: enterprise #enterprise #ent #detained

[qocsuing]

How to avoid overloading your plug sockets at home

How to avoid overloading your plug sockets at home

If your collection of technology, appliances and gadgets is getting a bit unwieldy in the home, you may also have gathered a collection of extension leads and plugs to try and fit everything in.Get more news about Get more news about Overload Protection Socket,you can vist our website!,you can vist our website!

Shifting appliances around from socket to socket can be tempting, but just because your extension lead can squeeze in four plugs doesn't mean it's safe to do - some appliances require so much power that when grouped together they can cause the plug to overheat, and possibly start a fire.

To help you stay safe, we've listed the most energy-guzzling appliances below to help you wire things up properly in the home. We also interviewed Group Manager Jeremy James, from Royal Berkshire Fire and Rescue, to find out more about avoiding potentially dangerous situations. How much power do your appliances really need? Surprisingly, some of the smallest appliances in our homes use the most watts of power.

In fact, a kettle actually uses 20 times more watts than a fridge. And an iron uses a staggering 2,800 watts - that's more than 200 times more than is needed to power a mobile phone charger.

As a guide, you should only load one plug socket with a maximum of 3,000 watts. But it might be easier to remember the sorts of products that require more and less around the home. Top fire safety tips To find out more about safety around the home, we spoke to Jeremy James, Royal Berkshire Fire and Rescue Service's Group Manager.

How many is too many when plugging devices into an outlet? It really depends on the appliances you're plugging in. Always work out the total wattage of all the devices going into the one socket. If they add up to more than 3,000W then it's not safe - the plug in the socket can overheat and potentially cause a fire. A kettle can max out the socket capacity all on its own, while having your washing machine and dishwasher plugged into an adaptor would mean you're a massive 1,440 watts over the recommended amount.

Appliances like your fridge, radio or lamp are far more suited to sharing sockets. Take note if you're moving plugs around to try to squeeze extra devices in. Are block extensions better or worse than extension leads? We prefer extension leads if used correctly. Block adaptors aren't unsafe but the weight of the plugs and the leads can start to pull the adaptor out of the wall socket leading to resistance heating and increasing the risk of a fire.

Plastic block adaptors that have lots of sockets and sometimes come without a fuse are always best avoided. A surge protector can absorb only so many surges before it stops functioning. Although it's practically impossible to tell exactly when this happens, the longer it's been used for the more at risk you are. If it's absorbed a serious power surge you should always replace it immediately.

Some surge protectors have built-in lights designed to alert you when it needs to be replaced. But you can't fully rely on this - it's not a foolproof system.

[thatoneidiotdts]

Sleeping (+morning routine) headcanons for some genshin boys

A/n: hello ladies and gentlemen I'm happy to announce that I may be back now that my life has decided to stop throwing endless shit at me. Now I also write for genshin so feel free to send asks in my inbox!!

Warnings: nightmares for xiao, favoritism in diluc's part, purposeful misspelling and slander in C*ilde's part,overall tooth rotting fluff

Zhong li

Sleeps like a rock (pun intended)

This man will not wake up unless there is an emergency

No matter how much noise you make or whatever is going on around him he'll stay there laying in bed completely silent

His breathing is so quiet you think he's dead half the time if not for his endless sleep talking

And you can actually have full on conversations with him while he's asleep

Also he sleeps in a solider position which leaves you to cling on him like a koala on a big ass tree

Sleeps in really soft bamboo pyjamas that you bought for him

Zhong li will only wake up at exactly 7:30 am no matter if it's a week day or a weekend/ his day off

He also doesn't stay in bed for more than 10 minutes unless as stated before its his day off and you aren't awake yet

The man will stay there taking in the sunshine rays from the window as he's looking at your peaceful face

After an hour or two hell rub your back and gently wake you up with forehead kisses while softly calling your name

When you finally wake up you usually start with the morning hygiene and whatnot

Also he will ask you if you want to take a morning bath together but absolutely respects you decision if you won't and you don't need to even give him a reason you declined in the first place but will make sure you know he loves you no matter what

After that he will sit down with you and drink tea and have breakfast with you for the next two hours

It's the only reason he wakes up so early

T̵̻̦̥͌͝e̸̟̗̮̮͌a̷̙͕͉̿̍͝

After that he goes to do his usual shift at the wangsheng funeral parlor

Venti

Menace to society

He either sleeps sprawled out in a starfish position with his arm and leg over your body or in a fetal position with his face buried in your breasts/chest

He usually sleeps in your clothes or in his everyday clothes

His little snores are super cute tho

Venti's snoring isn't super loud, it's actually really quiet but still there

Since he's a bard he stays at the Angel's share until it closes which is usually very late into the night so he sleeps until like 2pm

He isn't a heavy sleeper so you usually accidentally wake him up if you have some errands to run early in the morning

Venti will cling to you and pretend that he's asleep so that you can stay in bed with him

After like 20 minutes of this he finally let's you go and makes you promise him that you'll be back quickly

When you returned to your shared house from doing commissions you found him still sleeping in the bed so you quietly took a shower and snuggled in with him for another hour or two

After he finally wakes up for real this time he has breakfast lunch with you and goes off to Angel's share but not before giving you a thousand kisses

Kaeya

He's sleep schedule is ON POINT

He always gets back from Angel's share at exactly 1:00am, showers, eats and does his skin care routine and gets in bed around 1:30am

He also wakes up at exactly 9am but stays in bed until ten

He trashes through the night, he also talks in his sleep but it really weird and it's mostly things that are in English but you can't understand them at all

Kaeya is also a blanket snatcher and will snatch your blanket if you aren't holding it tightly

I feel like he also sleeps with socks on but has a few special pairs of socks that have some cute patterns that he would rather be caught working with the fatui by his own brother than wear them outside once

Also sleeps in silk pyjamas, doesn't care if the cotton ones are easier to breathe through, he likes the feeling of silk on his skin

Kaeya loves his personal space and he doesn't like to be touched while he sleeps but makes up for it when he's awake but still in bed

The only exception is when it's cold outside, I headcannon he's naturally cold and he doesn't like it at all

His morning routine is 90% of him taking care of his face and showering

His skincare routine is also more expensive than some people's houses so don't touch his products plz

Kaeya will gladly teach you the basics of skin care and will buy you your own products that thinks will suit your skin better

He's also almost late to work every day so every day you see him put on his shoes calmly, take in a deep breath and then he kisses you goodbye and runs off like a mad man in order to get to the headquarters on time

Diluc

He has so much unprocessed trauma I would be surprised is sleep schedule is anything but a mess

Diluc doesn't sleep a lot, he would have a normal sleep schedule but since he has a lot of stuff to do all the time it stops him from sleeping property

Not only does he work as a bartender at Angel's share when Charles can't he also works as the Mondstat's one and only Dark Night Hero

He usually comes home around 4 or 5 am and will only sleep until like 8 and you will have to force him to have a nap in the afternoon

Also he sleeps in his everyday clothing and he's sometimes too tired to even take his coat off

Diluc sleeps on his stomach which causes him to have back and neck problems but it's the only way he can actually fall asleep

He's a really light sleeper which also adds up to his sleeping problem

Also he snores loudly, like really loudly, and he only snores at night for some weird reason

You discovered that because one day you accidentally woke up at like 6 am and you couldn't fall back asleep because of his loud snoring but you didn't dare to move since you knew how little rest he gets

He's not a morning person at all, if he didn't hate alcohol, he would be the person that chugs half a bottle of vodka in the morning just to keep him awake

Diluc usually starts his morning off with some personal hygiene and then starts doing the endless paperwork without even having breakfast or anything to drink

So out will have to force him to eat and drink so that he doesn't pass out from work

On the rare days he doesn't have any work to do he usually sleeps them off to make up for the time he didn't sleep

Albedo

Chalk boy over here also has a terrible sleep schedule

He's not really forcing himself to stay up but rather doesn't realize how late it is

You will have to pull him out of his work in order for him to go to sleep

Albedo has a special pair of pyjamas that he wears when he's sleeping and he only wears them because for his last birthday Klee has given him a pair of pyjamas that were originally grey but she hand painted them herself with the help of Jean and Lisa and he's been sleeping in them ever since

And when i say every day I mean every day

But don't worry he hand washes them every two days and takes special care of them in order to not wash of the fabric paint

His snores are also really quiet and quite cute, I recommend commenting on that if you wanna see him blush ^-^

Albedo usually sleeps on his stomach but unlike Diluc he is small enough to not crush you under his weight so he usually sleeps with his head on your stomach or buried in your neck

Pease touch his hair he melts when you do

Albedo can sleep for a looonng time if you don't wake him up so he relies on you to wake him up or else he'll spend the next 16 hours in bed sleeping without a care in the wold

When he wake up he does his usual morning routine, which is usually a quick shower, breakfast, brushing his teeth and his hair out, and then goes off to work

He will absolutely make you have a nap with him in the afternoon or whenever he feels tired

Xiao

He doesn't sleep much, hell I don't this man sleeps at all sometimes

Adepti don't really require sleep or food like normal humans do

It took a lot of time for him to trust you enough to sleep besides him

Xiao doesn't feel safe while sleeping at all, he also fears that his karmic dept might take affect on you so he keeps his distance for quite some time

For the first month or two he would wear his normal every day clothes but then you gift him a cute plain green onesie and at first he straight up refused to put 'that thing' on but he gave in and hasn't sleep in anything else since

At first he would be the big spoon so that he can protect you from any harm but when you spooned him for the first time he felt so safe and warm he never wanted to let go of that feeling ever again

After that he would ask you under his breath if you could spoon him more often, you barely understood what he was saying but perfectly understood what he wanted and needed.

He also regularly has nightmares which causes him to trash around and maybe whack you in the face once or twice but you're quick to calm him down

Xiao never really realized that he was hurting you until he gently hugged you and you winced because he accidentally touched the small mark he left the previous night after having another nightmare

Doesn't touch you or sleep with you for a week after that, he already hurt you enough but you don't really care so you coaxed him into sleeping with you again very easily since he missed your warmth a lot

He doesn't really have a morning routine but he does wake up every morning before you so that he can teleport to the Huaguang Stone Forest to pick some Qingxin flowers for you

He's also gets back into your arms right before you wake up so that it seems like he never left in the first place

But you always notice the new fresh bouquet of the beautiful white flower on your desk and thank him for it

T*rtaglia

Listen here ok I'mma be real with y'all

Turbulence sleeps exactly one hour less than normal people but makes it seem like he gets like 2 hours of sleep per night

"Ugh I didn't sleep last night at all😩😏" Like bro stfu

He also makes jokes about sleeping so little because he was with you last night or that he was training so hard or doing a mountain of paper work

While you know damn well he was with you entire night sleeping like a baby right by your side

He sleeps naked solely so that one day when a hypothetical intruder gets into your home he can scare them off by yelling at them while being completely naked 💀

But he will put a pair of pyjamas on if you're uncomfortable

He mostly sleeps on his side because he needs to hold something while he's sleeping, if you aren't with him that night he will hug your pillow and sleep like that

Tagliatelle also doesn't like to sleep when in a cold room so he will have one of those water bottles that people use for back pain and will put one in the pillow he's holding and two in the blanket itself

He's totally a morning person and has no problem with getting out of the bed in less than like 10 minutes unless you ask him not to

If he has a day off he won't sleep in that much but he will curl up beside you and 'accidentally' place his head on your boobs/chest

Y'all saying Terrorism is the caring older brother? WRONG he's the forgotten middle child. we ofc know about Tonia, Anthon and Teucer but he also has two older brothers and at least one older sister

I feel like he's the middle child that had to take all the responsibilities when the older three/four moved out

So yeah he can make a damn fine breakfast for you without skipping a beat

But don't let me even start on his personal hygiene

Like shower are fine ok and he baths once a week only because he can but like

I know damn well his back teeth are ROTTING

He only uses mouthwash and brushes the front and bottom part of the teeth so that they look presentable meanwhile his back teeth got their souls sucked out

Moving on from that Tellurium can't really spend the whole morning with you so he will have to leave you late in the morning.

Coffee? :>

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact zhongli #zhongli #zhongli x reader #genshin impact venti #venti #venti x reader #genshin impact kaeya #keaya x reader #keaya #genshin impact diluc #diluc #diluc x reader #genshin impact albedo #albedo #albedo x reader #genshin impact xiao #xiao #xiao x reader #genshin impact childe #childe x reader #childe #venti headcanons #zhongli headcanons #diluc headcanons #kaeya headcanons #xiao headcanons #albedo headcanons #childe headcanons

[clusterbuck]

how about 4 from the prompts list? "I'm here, aren't I?"

okay fun fact when i sat down to fill this prompt and turned my spotify on shuffle the first song to come up was i'm here by sweet talk radio so like... that's appropriate lmao

thanks for the prompt!!

"i'm here, aren't i?" buck mutters under his breath. "stop looking at me like that! it's rush hour on a friday, i did the best i could with the traffic conditions i had."

"i know, i know," eddie whispers next to him. "i'm not mad at, you, i just—" he cuts himself off and sighs. "i was going to talk to you about something before we went in."

"why am i here, anyway?" buck asks, looking around at all of the parents and teachers milling around the foyer of christopher's school. "i mean, you know i don't mind, but you made it sound really—"

he's interrupted by the sound of a woman's voice, somewhere on eddie's other side. "mr diaz, there you are! and this must be the husband."

buck whirls to look at eddie, because—if eddie has a husband, this is the first he's hearing of it.

please, eddie's expression seems to say, desperate and cornered and a little hopeful. and buck's never been able to deny him anything.

he's always been quick on the uptake, and even if he wasn't, eddie's arm sliding around his waist would probably make the pieces slip into place. so he schools his features into his best approximation of what a husband probably looks like and turns to face the woman next to eddie.

she's bright and bubbly, the platonic ideal of a suburban california soccer mom. she holds out a hand, and buck grins as he shakes it. "that's me," he confirms.

"and are you mr diaz as well?" she asks, and buck breathes an internal sigh of relief when she doesn't add anything along the lines of i don't really know how it works with you people.

"buckley, actually," he tells her. "buck." then he drops his voice and leans in like he's sharing a secret. "makes it easier at work, you know, so our captain knows who he's talking to."

she laughs, and eddie squeezes his hip. "i've heard a lot about you," she says with a smile. then she inclines her head at eddie. "he won't shut up about you, actually."

buck grins. "is that so?" he asks, turning to look at eddie.

eddie rolls his eyes. "i talk about you a normal amount," he says. "don't go getting an ego about this."

the woman introduces herself as somebody's mother. next to him, eddie falls into an easy conversation about math homework and the upcoming science fair, but buck is only half-listening. he's mostly preoccupied by the fact that eddie, apparently, goes around telling people that they're married. which is definitely news to him.

he's also more than a little preoccupied by the warm weight of eddie's arm resting around his waist, and the casual way eddie's hand curls around his hip like it belongs there. before he can think better of it, buck leans further into eddie's embrace, and eddie adjusts his grip mid-sentence like this is something they do every day and not something out of buck's wildest daydreams.

eventually, the woman excuses herself to go and find some teacher or the other.

"husband, huh?" buck asks. "that's funny, i don't remember you proposing. or, you know, asking me out."

as he speaks, eddie detaches himself from buck. when buck turns to look, eddie is already wearing a guilty expression.

eddie sighs. "i was going to tell you," he says. "that's what i wanted to talk to you about before we came in."

"i mean, yeah, knowing ahead of time that i'm supposed to be acting like your husband would have made life a little easier," buck says. "also, uh, why am i supposed to be acting like your husband, again?"

eddie looks away, squirrely in the way buck knows he only gets when he's embarrassed. "there was a teacher a while back," he says. "she kept, uh, hitting on me? so i panicked and said i was married."

"okay, so, why me?" buck asks, and wonders if eddie can hear the unspoken question. why are you pretending to be married to a man? eddie's never given any indication that he's anything other than straight. it's the biggest reason buck has him firmly mentally labelled as never going to happen, buckley, you might as well stop dreaming about it.

it hasn't worked so far, but repetition is key.

"i guess christopher talks about you a lot," eddie says. "she asked if it was you, and it seemed easier to say yes than to invent some kind of fictional spouse that i'd have to remember details about."

"romantic," buck says, and eddie laughs and elbows him.

"shut up."

"so why didn't you just tell me?" buck asks.

"i was going to, if you'd been here when you said you would!"

"hey, it's not my fault the 146 didn't manage their pile-up scene properly and traffic backed up!" buck says. "besides, you could also have told me at any other point in time between now and—how long have you been telling people this?"

"uh... six months, give or take," eddie says. "that's why it was so important you come tonight—i've been making excuses for you at school events, but the other parents have started to question it and i don't want them thinking my imaginary husband is a shitty person."

"clearly you have better taste than that," buck agrees.

eddie sighs again, but it's good-natured. "god, i should have known you'd be insufferable about this."

"and yet you picked me anyway," buck beams. "so why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"i was worried you'd think it's weird," eddie says. "and i really needed you to be here."

"mm, being addressed as your husband out of the blue was definitely less weird," buck says.

"so it didn't go exactly to plan," eddie says. "thanks for just rolling with it, by the way."

"of course," buck says. "i've got your back, remember?"

"somehow, i don't think this is what either of us envisioned back in that hospital parking lot," eddie laughs.

and it's true—buck had envisioned doing a lot of things with eddie, back in those first few days before he'd realised he didn't have a chance, but fake marriage was never one of them.

"so is there anything specific you need me to do?" buck asks, in an effort to distract himself from thoughts of the things he did envision.

"just—sell it, i guess?" eddie says. "i'm pretty sure i've only told people things about you that are true anyway, so there's no elaborate cover story or anything."

"except that we're married," buck says.

"except that we're married," eddie agrees. "for—about a year now, i think i've said?"

"a year, okay," buck repeats. "cool, i'm on it." then he steps closer to eddie again and slips his hand into eddie's back pocket.

"buck," eddie hisses. "what are you doing?"

"selling it," buck replies.

"where? in high school in the year 1987?" eddie asks, but he relaxes into buck's side.

"hey, no judging," buck says. "maybe this is my signature move."

"i mean, you do you," eddie says. buck doesn't argue, because he doesn't want to have to tell eddie that he's mostly doing it because this might be the only opportunity he ever gets to touch eddie's ass.

it's only as they set off to meet with the first of christopher's teachers that buck realises he might have miscalculated. because now his hand is on eddie's ass, and he's suddenly hyperaware of even the smallest twitch of his fingers. how much of it can eddie feel? is eddie going to think he's trying to make a move if he accidentally flexes his fingers a little?

it's not that he doesn't want to make a move. it's just that he doesn't think that eddie would be very receptive to it.

except eddie turns out to be a very affectionate fake husband. if buck's hand isn't in eddie's pocket then eddie is holding it. when they sit side-by-side listening to teachers talk about how smart christopher is, eddie's foot is hooked around buck's ankle. in the hallway between meetings, eddie turns to drop a kiss on buck's cheek, and a shiver radiates through him.

buck doesn't know what to make of it. he's used to a certain amount of physical contact from eddie—shoulders brushing together as they walk next to each other, working together so seamlessly their limbs might as well be extensions of each other on calls—but this feels different. it's not just that the touches are different—there's an ease to eddie's actions that makes buck wonder for the first time in years if maybe his mental label for eddie isn't quite as accurate after all.

he doesn't know how else to explain the fact that eddie keeps touching him. it's more than enough to sell their ruse—bordering on excessive, even, especially for a middle school parent-teacher conference.

and buck isn't exactly innocent himself, either. he wonders if a year into a fictional marriage is too far to claim honeymoon period, because that's the closest he can come to describing the feeling—like now that he has permission to touch eddie, the dam has broken and he can't keep his hands off.

they're still holding hands when they spill out of the school doors and into the dark warmth of the september evening. eddie makes no move to let go, and so neither does buck.

buck's jeep is clear across the other side of the parking lot, but he follows eddie to his truck anyway. they reach the car, and eddie brushes his lips against the corner of buck's mouth, closer than he has all night. buck freezes.

eddie pulls back, horror clear across his face. "i'm sorry," he says. "i didn't—i just—i forgot. that we're not inside anymore."

there's just enough wistfulness in his voice that buck makes a split-second decision. he takes a step forwards and takes eddie's face in his hands, stands still for two heartbeats just in case he's reading everything extremely wrong and eddie wants to protest, and then he's kissing eddie.

eddie kisses the way he does everything else, with a steadiness that keeps buck tethered to reality and a quiet intensity that bubbles just under the surface. it's a combination that's uniquely eddie, one that makes buck feel like he could take on the world and win and like he's coming home.

"i don't want it to be just inside," buck says, just in case eddie didn't get the message. "i don't want it to be fake. i mean, it might be a little soon to get married, but—"

"someday, though," eddie says, and buck laughs.

"someday, yeah."

eddie grins at him. "in the meantime, do you want to come home with me tonight?"

"yeah, i really do."

send me a starter line from this list and i'll write a ficlet for it!

#i am so tired i hope this makes sense lmao #buddie #911fic #ask emma #emma writes #becominglionhearted #lol i was literally just saying the other day that i tend to default to eddie pov and here's my second buck pov in a row #oh well

[dr3amofagame]

Dream tried to stop Wil from creating L'Manburg, Phil tried to stop him from blowing it up, BOTH value people over items and builds, Phil has said that they're replaceable but people aren't, Dream traded spirit for his best friends fishes (we kno he's not someone to talk abt feelings:[) BOTH were kind and selfless but used by almost if not everyone, BOTH were ready to be THE VILLAINS if it meant everyone else could live better after. ONE of them always had someone there, ONE didn't. Intentional?

aaaa sorry for the really inconsistent posts ,, im gonna try to post a little more in the next few days. i have a few things written up, so look out for them? maybe? for now, have this *gestures vaguely* thing ,, it’s kinda a mess but *shrug*

phil is such a fun character, anon, especially for all the reasons that you mentioned in the ask!! he’s a really fun character with a lot of complexities that go (sadly) overlooked by a large portion of the fandom, but he’s super cool even tho i havent analyzed him too much. hope you enjoy (and i hope my interpretation of c!phil isnt too ooc lmao) 

tw: mentioned blood, injury, implied torture/abuse, starvation, trauma, mentioned death, prison arc/pandora’s vault

When Techno first brings Dream back from the prison, Phil doesn’t quite know what to think.

“I don’t trust him either,” Techno assures him, but there’s a flickering anger in the backs of his eyes, one that had emerged ever since he came back from the prison with the other man in his arms, and Phil knows his friend well enough to know that the words are empty in the face of the piglin hybrid’s particular brand of to-the-death loyalty. He shakes his head in reply, refusing to voice his thoughts for Techno’s sake, at least, but the look that the other slants at him suggests that he’s caught onto them all the same.

At first, the work is thankfully mindless; even if Phil has reservations on the man that Techno has more or less dumped into his house, he would hardly wish the clear suffering he’s been through on anyone. The first few days pass in a flurry of brewing potions, wrapping and rewrapping dressings, stitching up cuts and setting broken bones straight. The damage is extensive; Phil has to take more than a few breaks to just leave the house and breathe - he’s far from a stranger to blood and carnage, had received the title of ‘Angel of Death’ for a reason, but even he had never been particularly familiar with this form of cruelty. Torture was a level of violence that extended beyond what even he was willing to bestow - his hands may have caused many deaths, and the weight of each one would continue to haunt him for the rest of his life, but even those had the mercy of being a quick end. The wounds and scars that ripple over Dream’s skin, thin and stretched tightly over his bones with little muscle and fat left to cushion them, speak of horrors that were anything but merciful.

“I didn’t know they were capable of all of this,” Techno says, once, as they huddle of Dream, wringing towels in cold water to wipe his feverish skin. Techno’s hand reaches for the ribboning gold-filled scars that remain from the execution - carefully, Phil raises his hand to let his fingertips brush over them as well. “I mean, I knew he was dangerous and all, but-”

“I know, mate,” Phil looks back at Dream’s face, tight even in unconsciousness, at the darkened, hand-shaped bruises that remain around his throat, at the scar that runs over his left eye, clearly meant to mirror the same one that makes its way down the duck hybrid’s own face. “You said that Quackity and Sam were working together?”

“Yeah,” Techno’s expression darkens, eyes focused somewhere on the wall, seemingly very far away. He said that nothing happened to him in the prison, and he seemed relatively unharmed when Phil activated the stasis chamber, but ever since he came back, sometimes he’ll have moments, and Phil can’t help but - wonder. “Quackity does the dirty work, Sam gives him the way in and out, probably also the tools to do it. It’s-” he huffs a short, self-recriminating laugh. “It’s bad, Phil.”

“Mate-”

Techno shoots him a look, and Phil cringes, knowing already that he’d used the wrong tone. Even with the execution, Techno had been adamant to hide all traces of his own terror and fear away from him, masking it all with fury for Phil’s own sake. He knows, just from the way his old friend looks at the ribboning scars that remain sometimes, that he is far from as over the whole ordeal as he acts, but Techno never wants to talk and Phil never knows the right time to ask and they smooth it all behind plans and explosions and hope that the TNT can blow apart the trauma, too. He’s got a sneaking suspicion that the same thing is going to happen, here.

“As soon as we can,” Techno starts again, pointedly shifting his eyes away from Phil’s face, “we’re calling a Syndicate meeting to figure out what we’re going to do about the prison. Like- come on, man, you couldn’t make a more transparent abuse of institutional power if you tried, really-” he looks over, uncharacteristic uncertainty warring over his features. “If you think that’s good, I mean-“

“Of course, mate.” Phil’s voice softens. “Whenever you’re ready.”

‘Whenever he’s ready,’ as it turns out, is easier said than done, becoming even more evident when their charge wakes up from his days long spell of unconsciousness. The worst of his injuries have, under their careful care and the benefit of many potions, healed enough to no longer directly threaten his life, but the vast majority have quite some time to go before being healed completely. Being as the goal was torture and not death, most of his injuries weren’t made to be life-threatening, but rather to cause as much pain as possible - from the grimace that twists Dream’s face when he struggles to force himself awake, they’re doing their jobs.

“Hey, mate, slow down,” Phil murmurs, pressing the man down by his shoulder when Dream weakly tries to push himself up and off the bed, and his struggling only lasts for a few more minutes before he gives up and slumps against his pillow, eyes cracking open and seeming surprisingly lucid.

“Where-“ his voice is wrecked, and Phil reaches for the glass of water at the bedside as Dream coughs. “Where am I?”

“You’re at Techno’s house,” Dream’s eyes widen and then slip closed as he processes the information, a wrinkle forming between his eyebrows as they knit together. “We broke you out, after Techno escaped with a stasis chamber with your book. Do you remember?”

Dream gnaws on his bottom lip. “Um- yeah. I think.” His head turns as his eyes crack open again- “Techno-“

“He’s out, right now. He’ll be back in a bit.”

“Oh.” Dream falls back into the bed, strength seemingly sapped from the short conversation. His breathing stutters, then steadies. “Okay.”

Recovery is slow. Phil doesn’t actually find himself seeing the man very often; now that he doesn’t need around-the-clock care anymore, he’s moved back into his own house, letting Techno do most of the work when it comes to rehabilitating the escaped convict crashing at his house. As he begins to spend more of his time awake and aware, he brings a whole slew of new problems; Phil catches him screaming one day, blurting harsh, angry words as Techno reads, unbothered from the other side of the room, and he stops in his tracks standing awkwardly in the doorway.

“Um-“ he winces when Dream curses, smashes something against the floor, and then curls into himself at the sound. Techno doesn’t even flinch. “Am I interrupting something?”

Dream stomps away, face flushed, arms wrapped around himself. Techno raises an eyebrow.

“You lookin’ for something, Phil?” he asks, and the unpleasant knot in Phil’s chest refuses to unwind.

The episodes, unfortunately, don’t seem to get much better. Though he’s rarely outright violent, Dream looks constantly murderous, usually muttering underneath his breath about something or another while he stalks the grounds of Techno’s house. It’s not too long before Techno sends him out to work around the house instead of just moping within the cottage, which also means that Phil sees him a lot more - tending to a small farm behind the house, feeding the dogs, hacking away at mobs, and usually complaining the entire time. It’s unnerving, even as injured and unarmored as the man is, to see him walking around like this; despite his rather pathetic appearance, swamped in sweaters that dwarf him thoroughly and thin enough to look like the slightest breeze will knock him over, his eyes are flinty and intelligent and bubble with promises of revenge.

“FUCK!” Phil turns to see him slamming a shovel into the snow, stomping away into the woods, and his hands tighten around his cup of tea. Next to him, Techno shrugs.

“Nerd’s got a few issues,” he drawls, and Phil laughs shortly.

“That seems like an understatement.”

“He’ll ease up in time,” Techno sounds surprisingly confident, completely content despite the muffled curses that come from the woods next to them. He’s probably used to it, with Chat and all, but Phil can’t quite seem to find the same calm.

“I just don’t know, mate,” Phil shakes his head. “You sure having him around is the best idea? He doesn’t seem...stable.”

Techno looks up at him over the rim of his cup of coffee. His head tilts, considering, but there’s a small smile on his face that tells Phil that Techno, inexplicably, doesn’t share the same sentiments. There was always a part of him that was, for the lack of a better word, softer than the rest of the server for his self-proclaimed rival, a sort of understanding that Phil could hardly hope (nor would really want to) understand.

“Don’t worry, Phil, if he tries anything I can always just tie him up in the attic or something,” Phil huffs a small laugh, amused, and nods to concede the point. “And- well, call it intuition. You could really try talkin’ to him, you know. He reminds me of you, sometimes.”

The words stick in his head despite his best efforts, rattling in his skull when he tries to sleep, lingering when he catches glimpses of the green-clothed man stalking around their properties. He can’t imagine what would’ve prompted his old friend to make the comparison, can’t think of a single thing (besides their affinity for the color green) that would mark him as similar to the - from what he’s heard - deranged menace with a particular penchant for destruction (not that his rants and fits of anger are doing anything to correct that impression). Even so, Techno had sounded so sure when he’d made the comparison, the words offhand like he’d thought them a million times before, like it was a simple observation that held no more weight than commenting on the color of the sky. Phil watches as Dream lugs a pile of logs behind him, huffing at one of Techno’s dogs that comes to chase and nip at his feet and grumbling loudly before faceplanting into the snow. He just...can’t see it.

Days later, Wilbur comes to visit, a grin on his lips as he dramatically recounts his newest exploit: a nation by Las Nevadas, a supposed safe haven away from the glitter and glory of Quackity’s city; it sounds brilliant, it sounds lovely, and more than anything it sounds stupid, and Phil tells him as such immediately.

“You’re being reckless,” he rants at his son, wings flaring outwards and only barely noticing Dream watching from the corner of his eye, “What are you doing- picking fights with Quackity? Starting another nation- didn’t you see what happened to the first two you made? You’re going to get yourself killed, Wil!”

“Well, I’ve already seen what’s on the other side of death, and it’s really not that bad-“

“You’re my son!” The words are angrier than Phil would’ve liked, and he knows that he looks ridiculous and overbearing, criticizing the actions of his fully grown son, but all he can see is Wilbur’s face, slack with pain and grief, stained with ash and soot as his eyes flutter to half-mast in the midst of the rubble of a country he loved and destroyed and destroyed him in turn. “I can’t lose you again, Wil!”

Wilbur doesn’t quite storm out, but it’s a near thing, leaving with a clipped goodbye and leaving Phil seething on his doorstep. He spends the rest of the night pacing around the house in a sort of mad frenzy, wings stretching and folding over and over. Not for the first time, he longs for the sky, to feel the air through his wings and let the world fall into pinpricks below him; it’s this that leads him to the roof of his house, staring stubbornly at the clouds as the sun sinks down to the horizon.

“Hey.”

Phil startles; there, down below him, is Dream. He rocks back on his heels, seeming awkward, before clambering up the wall (Phil rolls his eyes at the ease with which he scales it, the feeling in his chest almost fond) and settling himself on the shingles at Phil’s side.

“Hey, mate,” Phil shakes his head. The fondness leaves, and the irritation that had risen at Wilbur’s words, earlier, comes back full-force. “Sorry- Wil came to visit, we talked. I just needed some time to think.”

Dream hums in acknowledgement, and they fall into a comfortable silence, watching as the sun dipping down past the mountains in the distance.

“You know,” Dream starts, sudden, “I told him the same thing.” He looks up at Phil, eyes faraway with old memories. “Wilbur, I mean. When he made L’manburg- I told him he was being reckless.” He shrugs. “I guess he never listened.”

Phil pauses, Techno’s words ringing in his ears. He reminds me of you, sometimes.

Dream looks surprisingly normal up close - face no longer reddened with fever or pale from blood loss, even the scars fail to really take from the boyishness of his face. He bites his lips, eyes falling away at Phil’s scrutiny, golden blond hair flopping over his forehead, newly trimmed to be something a little closer to his old length, at least in the front, the back pulled into a small ponytail. He’s young, and shockingly awkward, teeth worrying his lip, hands fiddling with each other, shifting his weight from one foot to the other several times a minute. He looks like a kid.

“He never does,” Phil lets himself smile, watches as Dream smiles back, almost like they’re sharing a joke. He wonders how well he really knows the man behind the mask. “Want to come in for some tea?”

Dream smiles wider, and something old and worn in Phils chest, knocked loose ever since he felt his son fall limp in his arms with his own sword shoved between his ribs, falls back into place.

“That would be great,” Dream replies, the words almost hopeful, and they go inside.

#tw trauma #tw death #tw blood #tw injury #tw torture #tw abuse #tw starvation #prison arc #pandora's vault #-> my writing #my writing :D #my asks !! #-> my asks

[beigehearts]

So I'm not sure if you're comfortable writing for these kinds of things so if you aren't then you can just ignore this.

You can write it with Hisoka, Chrollo, Illumi, one or all of them I don't mind (preferably Hisoka)

But I've got issues with eating, not a full out eating disorder (at least not that I know of, I haven't been to a doctor for it) but I find it intimidating to eat full meals, and I normally only eat a couple things daily. Maybe an apple here and an orange for later.

And because of that I've sworn off having kids until I can get it under control (its been 4 years and doesn't seem to get better, I just keep losing weight) last time I weighed myself I was 112 which is getting pretty close to underweight for my height and age.

So could you please do a trio (or individual) x fem reader where she's been bullied about her weight by her mom and peers and has a hard time eating, and because of that she doesn't want to get pregnant and risk having a baby born premature or extremely unhealthy, or die. But somehow she manages to get pregnant (maybe failed contraceptives) so Hisoka/Illumi/Chrollo tries helping her get better about eating. Setting timers and having thought out meals for the day that includes all the food groups needed.

I've always been told to eat more or that all I ever eat is junk food but I'm not fat, I'm not extremely skinny, I just wish there would've been somebody telling me that everything would be fine and help me through it. Nobody has yet though, everybodys first reaction to me saying I rarely eat is that I should eat more when I literally cannot force myself to do so.

I really do apologize for this being long, and if you don't write this I can always find somebody else.

No I completely understand! I’ve struggled with my eating in the past and I sympathize. I know that hearing “just eat” and what not doesn’t help and I know it’s hard- but all you can do is try your hardest to get better- the journey is just as important as the result I’m more than happy to do this request- I really appreciate it because I’ve been wanting to do something like this for a while. I tried to get this done asap because I feel like its important I really hope you like it!!

Alright let’s get started lads fem!reader CW: eating disorder, pregnancy

Illumi

It’s been days since you had your last meal. As his future wife and a future mother it has worried him sick. And at some points you wonder if he’s only concerned about the baby. You’ve been on birth control for months after having a long talk with Illumi that children would need to wait a bit until you have yourself under control. He’s been acting strangely, he’s been pacing which he has never done before, and snapping at his brothers, sister, and mother.

You sit on the balcony, a heavy rain pounding down, the awning above you barely protecting you. You look into the distance and rub your belly, as if trying to wish away the baby. It’s not that you don’t want children, you really do, and you also want to for Illumi’s sake. But it’s not time. You’re not ready. Your body is too frail and your hips cannot hold a child. The mere thought of something going wrong with your precious baby, is enough to make you sick. You’ve been brewing in bad thoughts for days since you found out- but this isn’t time to sulk...

Illumi opens the sliding door to the balcony, staring at you for a long while before sitting on the ground next to your chair. He grabs your hand on your belly and rubs it gently- with so much affection you feel like he’s a different person.

“Y/n.” He looks up at you with his big, dark eyes. “It’s scary.” He pauses, being unusually sensitive. “I can’t wait for the baby. But I need you right now.” He seems very out of his element, he’s not exactly the type to share his emotions. Though he can tell he needs to put himself aside for the well being of his future wife and future child. “We’re going to get through this together.” He nods to himself, and places his cheek on your hand, “You don’t have to do this alone. You have me now. I apologize that I have not been doing my best for you- but we’ll do it.”

He stands up, bringing you with him, pressing you against his chest. He holds your head against him, then pats your head gently. “We’ll set a schedule. We’ll eat together at every meal. I promise to be here now.” He begins playing with your hair and wraps an arm around your waist, “It’ll be just like training.”

You tilt your head up to him and frown at the training part.

He stutters and says, “No, it’ll be a process.” A sign of small smile makes it’s way onto his face, “Our baby will be just fine.”  

Illumi has never shown you such a sensitive side of him and you begin to wonder if he’s gone through this too. Either way, his comforting head pats and warm chest are enough for you in this moment.

Hisoka

Sometimes your boyfriend could be just so oblivious. He always cares and pays attention to you but sometimes things go over his head. He equates your morning sickness which is just dry heaving with being dehydrated. Though maybe telling him would just make it easier. You’ve been telling Hisoka that you want to get better. You’re tired of this burden on you constantly. Tired of food looking like poison. He’s done his best to help you. Though he’s somewhat lost in how to do so.

He loves you dearly and honestly how much he loves you sometimes scares you. You try not to think about what lengths he’s gone for you.

Hisoka is laying in bed, shuffling cards and twirling them on his finger.  He’s quite good with his hands. Quiet music plays from the radio- some new hip hop hit. He averts his eyes from his cards, to look at you. It’s been a month and it’s about time he knows why your belly has a small bulge- it not being from you eating better or more.

You spit it out- wasting no time and getting to the point. “I’m pregnant.” You close your eyes, as if scared he’s gonna lash out or break something. But none of that happens, it’s silence.

You peek one eye open to see him doe eyed, caught in head lights. The cards fall out of his hands. He clears his throat and fixes his face, “Come here baby.” You obey him and sit down next to him on the bed, he pulls you onto his lap and holds your face in his hands.

“I wish you told me sooner. I could have prepared.”

Eyes begin swelling in your eyes and he once again looks stunned. You burst into tears and hold onto his shirt, nuzzling your head into his neck. Through broken sobs you manage to say, “I’m no good as a mother. I can’t take care of it! I’m no good Hisoka- what if I kill it? I’m no good.” Sobs rack your body, leaving your trembling against his own body.

Hands grab your shoulders and he pushes you up, then wipes the tears from your face. “You’re perfect to hold a baby. What is it you’re worried about?”

You begin to hyperventilate after you have no more tears to cry. Through each breath you gasp out, “I’m... too... small... what if... I have a...” At the mere thought of your next words your heart begins pounding, “Miscarriage?” You let out one last sob of a word, “I can’t feed me and my baby...”

He shushes you and pushes some hair behind your ear, “Oh honey. You’ve been working so hard on getting better. You’re sick and that’s okay. We just have to work harder? Right?”

Nodding but you still can’t control your breathing, he says, “Come on take a deep breath.” Listening to his directions you do. “It’s gonna be alright. You’ll be a great mother. You work so hard. We just have to keep pushing.”

You nod, and collapse against his chest and whisper, “Is the baby going to be okay?”

“Yes, and so will you.”

Chrollo

Once the both of you found out you were pregnant, it was pure confusion. You were taking contraceptives and Chrollo knows how much you don’t want a baby right now. It was a long conversation you had when you got contraceptives. Despite wanting a child, he wanted nothing more than you to be happy and healthy. It’s been months, four months to be precise. You lost 3 pounds in that time no matter what you did. You just couldn’t make yourself eat and when you did you felt terrible, guilty.

It was mealtime, all though you haven’t eaten at mealtime in weeks, Chrollo keeps trying. He made a light salad, with tomatoes and olives, that’s all. He knows how the sight of big meals only discourages you.

He steps around the table with a small plate in his hand, and sets it in front of you. A small plate with a few bites of salad. It should be easy. But it’s not. He kisses your forehead and sits on the other side of the table. A candle is lit and a single rose is in a vase. He tries to make every meal seem like a feast but lacking the food. He has a normal size bowl full of salad and he smiles at you from across the table.

“Time to eat.” He takes a bite of his salad- not pressuring you in any way to eat. The plate itself is enough pressure. You pick up the fork like you’ve practiced so many times and stare at the green leaves beneath you. The fork picks up a single leaf and you bring it to your mouth, opening and hesitantly placing it inside. Chewing is almost the worst part- but the worst part is swallowing. You swallow the leaf and look up at Chrollo. You can tell he’s trying to mask his excitement as not to overwhelm you.

The most you manage is another six single leaves, and a single, half cut cherry tomato.

You look up to him once again, shame taking over you, “That’s all I can do...”

His eyes go wide and you wonder if he’s upset that you didn’t keep going. Instead he leaps out of his chair and around the table. He picks you up into his arms and spins you around while laughing. He gently places you back down on the floor and can’t contain his smile.

“Oh darling you’re doing so great. I’m so proud of you.” Tears being to prick at your eyes when hearing his words, “You’re so good, let’s try again tomorrow okay?”

He squeezes you tightly and shakes you side to side, “You’re just so wonderful. I’m so proud.” No one has ever said they’re proud of you besides him. It’s such a blissful sound to your ears.

[iturbide]

Well, we both knew this was coming ever since I posted the ask game😂 8,9, 11,12, 16, 19, 20, 29 and 30!

we all knew it was coming

8. A scene/character moment you really liked?

One of the scenes I don't see talked about much at all but that I think about a lot is the one after Emmeryn's death, following the Shepherds' escape from Plegia and flight to Ferox. Chrom is at his lowest point, crushed by the weight of his failures, by the knowledge that he wasn't strong enough to save Emmeryn and she chose to sacrifice herself rather than let Gangrel win...and Robin reminds him, in that moment, about how powerless they were, not so long ago. How alone they had been, before Chrom offered his hand. They don't make light of Emmeryn's sacrifice, freely admitting that neither of them can match her on their own -- but that together, they can achieve so much more than they can individually. Robin reminds Chrom that he doesn't have to become his sister even if he fights for what she believed in, and assures him that even if he fails, they will be there to help him back up.

I've always loved that moment. It's the first time the game brings up the idea of bonds making people more powerful, and moreover it solidifies the bond that Chrom and Robin will share throughout the rest of the game: Robin promises to help Chrom up even if he should fall again...and I like to think that Chrom remembers that, and it's part of what motivates him to keep Robin by his side even after Validar forces Robin to turn on him once: he believes in those bonds, and knowing how low Robin is going to feel after that event, he wants to help pick Robin back up the same way Robin has helped him up countless times before.

9. What's something that should be brought back in future installments?

Well with the understanding that I am a filthy casual, I love having skirmishes as a leveling option. The older games are really hard for me to play because you have to really prioritize which units you use: there just aren't enough battles or experience to go around, making it impossible to really try to get a good feel for every character. Being able to have skirmishes, and moreover trigger additional skirmishes to level different characters, makes it easier to keep everyone in the same league, making it easier to pick units that will excel at a given map rather than being forced to take the only ones that have a suitable level even if they're poorly equipped (cavaliers on desert terrain please no). I'm really glad that 3H kept this aspect, even if it's mostly present on the lower difficulty modes (and once again it's great for Support grinding).

11. Talk about the game's themes!

"Our bonds give us strength" is probably my favorite thing about the whole damn game okay. I absolutely love that message, that together we are stronger than we are alone, and that it is through our friendships that our skills and talents truly shine. We can make each other better, not by berating each other, but by supporting each other, helping one another back up when we fail and striving to do better in the future. There's such a kind message in there that means a lot to me even now, and I tend to go on about it at length in...a lot of my stuff as you've probably noticed.

12. Your favorite cool details?

Okay this is really minor and silly but the Invisible Threads/Ties map?

I think this particular map is gorgeous. The colored stones radiating out from the central pedestal where the Fire Emblem sits, the Mark of Grima on the stairs leading up to the platform...just think about how much care and effort that kind of construction would require in the real world. This place is beautiful, and it's frankly a shame that we're forced to view it only as a place of evil. I can easily imagine this being a holy place, one of ancient rite and ritual; too bad we never get a chance to see it in better circumstances.

16. Favorite platonic relationship?

Robin and Lissa. Not because of the game, though (I actually don't like their supports that much) but because they're two people who can relate to one another in a really unique way. Robin is someone who has a Brand they do not want (at least once they know what it is); Lissa is someone who is lacking a Brand she should have. Both of them struggle with this, but the way they struggle -- particularly within the confines of Ylisse -- are likely very familiar, and I love the idea of them relating to one another and finding a confidante they can be open and honest with in ways they can't with others.

19. You get to make one more DLC for Awakening. What do you make?

Already covered! I don't have enough DLC ideas to put out more sadly

20. What do you feel is underappreciated about Awakening?

While I technically covered this one already, I think there are other things that are underappreciated. Like. The whole 'crusade' thing, and how Chrom's father, in Gangrel's own words, called them heathens and butchered countless Plegians. The game brings this up in one chapter -- and then it waves it off because Ylisseans suffered, too, and then forgets about it for the rest of the game. That's kind of a big thing to just drop, especially after a weak "both sides" remark. I don't even think IntSys appreciates the bombshell that really constitutes, given how they treat it -- which is a shame, because handled well it could have elevated the game even further.

29. What's an Awakening alt you want in Heroes?

Grandmaster Robin why are you taking so long to give us a Grandmaster Robin alt IntSys we haven't had an actual Robin since year 1 it's been Grimas the last two times I just want my badass tactician

30. Freebie!

Why doesn't Sumia have more supports??? She deserves so many more than she actually has and honestly one that I desperately wish I could have seen is Sumia and Kellam. Sumia, who has such low self-esteem that she wants to disappear into books and live other lives, Kellam who wants so desperately to be noticed even though no one ever sees him...imagine if Sumia was someone who could see him without issue. Imagine the two of them encouraging each other, bolstering one another's confidence and self-esteem, helping each other out -- Kellam helping Sumia cover up a clumsy mistake, Sumia giving Kellam flowers that help him get noticed. I just think they could have been so sweet and it's a travesty that IntSys wasted such a beautiful opportunity.

Awakening Ask Game

#answered #unsuspecting-person #ask game #fire emblem: awakening #cut for length because we all know me #i've been thinking a lot about kellam lately #and how many nice potential interactions there could have been #but that were wasted because intsys didn't take the opportunity #i want kellam and sumia to be friends so badly now

[viintage-pearls]

Snakes only bite

Your senior prom. It's suppose to be one of the one of the greatest nights of your life. Some girls plan it more than their own wedding. The perfect accessories. The perfect shoes. The perfect dress. And of course, the perfect date.

Betty thought she had all of that. She thought she was gonna have the perfect night. And yet, she found herself crying on the floor of her bedroom.

✰✰✰

She had decided to go with Jughead Jones. Yes, he was a bad boy and known as a risk. She had always found him alluring and she always had a good time with him. So, instead of going with one of the many guys that had asked her, she decided to go with the young serpent king. Too bad it would backfire.

Around 7 o' clock,  she walked into the gym. It was decorated wall to wall with violet cloths which had white fairy lights strung along the walls. Long tables with linens that matched the walls. Each of the seven tables had about 8 chairs on each side. There was a long purple isle from the door to the stage. And there was a huge dance floor that glowed a purple color. Clearly it was decorated by miss Veronica Lodge.

Betty and Jughead decided to just meet up at the school because the only form of transportation he had was his bike. And since she didn't want to ruin her dress, she decided just to take her own car. Maybe that was her biggest mistake.

She looked all around the gym, but he was no where to be found. She asked around, but no one had seen him. She found it peculiar but decided to wait a bit. Giving him the benefit of doubt. Thinking maybe he was just a little late.

Eventually, two hours passed. People were dancing and having a great time with their dates and friends. She was trying to. But, she was getting anxious and felt pathetic waiting around for her date. But, there was a topper to the cake. And this was just the icing.

The time to crown the prom royalty. Betty was sure she had it in the bag since she was the head of the cheer team. And she did. Unfortunately, when her name was called for prom queen, her king still hadn't shown. So, she stood there. On that stage, giving the brightest of smiles even though she was only filled with doubt.

Jughead's runner up, archie andrews ending up becoming king and they shared a dance. The entire time they swirled around in circles around the dance area, her mind was somewhere else. She couldn't help but think about how she would rather be dancing with Jughead than the carrot top.

After the dance, she ran out of the gym. She ran outside and got into her car. She practically sped her way over to the Southside. She normally didn't like going into snake territory after dark, but she was pissed off. And this man better have had a good reason for standing her up.

She sped into the trailer park, surely kicking up gravel. Not that she cared, her mind was only other things. She had always liked him and she really wanted to get to know him. They were both going to new york for college next year. So they would've actually had a chance without the weight of Riverdale's civil weighing them down.

She parked in front of the grey dingy trailer. The blonde woman climbed out of the car, slamming the door behind him. Honestly, she wanted him to hear it. She wanted to hear the angry clicks of her heels. She was pissed off and with good reason. Yet, she hadn't had any clue just how upset she would be.

She knocked on the door and waited a bit. She began to hear a lot of steps and loud voices. She peeked into the window, completely unaware of what she was going to see. But when she did, it completely shattered any thought of them making things work in the future.

Her green orbs observed the dumpy living room. There was another woman with him. The woman's upper body was only covered by a bra. Jughead was half naked. The rest of their clothes thrown across the room, a lamp on the floor. It was clear what they had been doing. It was clear what he had rather been doing some random ass woman than going to a dance with her.

The shock, the hurt, the disappoint, the anger. It was all over her face. Her jaw clenched as she couldn't help but stare with wide eyes for a minute.

Then, he turned his head and he caught her eyes. She didn't stay around long enough to see his reaction. She just wanted to go home. She stormed back into her car. And just like that, she was gone faster than she had came.

✰✰✰

It took jughead a little longer than it should've before he decided to come  check up on her. After everything, he didn't know wether or not he should've. He had been such an asshole and he was sure that she didn't want anything to do with him after the night he had gave her. But, he gathered up all of his courage and eventually found himself riding up to her house.

His blue eyes looked up at the red and white two story dwelling. He contemplated for a moment just turning back home. But, he pushed that thought to the back of his head and found himself going up the back way. The andrews always had a ladder so he used it to get to her bedroom window.

He looked inside the pastel bedroom. He quickly spotted the girl on the floor. She still wore the beautiful lilac dress, even as she cried in a fetal position. He gulped as he felt his heart quench at the sight. He sighed before he knocked on the window.

He watched as the girl jumped a bit out of shock. She looked in his direction, anger quickly taking over her face. He watched as she stormed over, opening the window.

"Why are you here?" She asked him with a raised brow.

He looked up at her, bitting his lip. He didn't know what to say to her. He looked down before looking back up into her eyes. He couldn't help but notice her smeared mascara. "I.. I um, can i come in?" He asked her.

She scoffed a bit but gestured for him to come in. " yeah, sure whatever." She said, walking over to her mirror and pulling her hair into a bun.

Jughead nodded and climbed into her bedroom. He had been in the pink room many times before. But never Without Betty all over him. Not that he ever complained. In fact, he preferred it to her simply tolerating his presence in her bedroom.

" Soo.. What do you want, Jones?" The blonde asked him, wiping her eyes of her ruined make up.

"I just.. I wanted to tell you that i'm sorry. I should've been there. I should've been with you." He told her.

She turned around in the vanity chair, looking at him with a glare. "So, why weren't you?"

He sighed softly. He didn't have a real excuse. His best bet was the truth. "We were at the wrym. Me and my friends were hanging. And all of a sudden, this new girl came into the bar. And she came over to me. One thing led to another and." He said.

She nodded. "And you decided that you would've rather screwed her than to keep your promises. Got it."

Jughead sighed and shook his head. "No. I." He started but just sighed.

"You what?" Betty asked, standing up from the chair and looking up at him.

He looked down, he couldn't bare to meet her eyes. Instead, he watched the purple rug across her floor. His eyes traced the little purple and pink flowers.

Betty raised a brow as she watched him. She shook her head. "God dam, jughead jones. Why do you have to be such an âsshole?" She asked him. There was no response. "Why do i have to be so stupid?" She muttered as she ran her hands over her face.

Jughead glanced back up at her. "Betts.. You're not. I am. I'm sorry, okay? I'm an idiot. I just.. I didn't want to go your stupid little stereotypical northside party." He mumbled.

Betty laughed and shook her head. "You do realize how stupid that sounds? You literally asked me!"

He closed his eyes. "Yeah, well.. You knew what you were getting into when you said yes." He told her.

"Oh, really? Okay. So, now this is my fault? I should've seen it coming that instead of going to prom with me, you would've been at your trailer screwing another woman!?"

Jughead didn't know what to say. she wasn't exactly wrong. He made a promise only to break it. He knew how important this night was to her. And yet, stupid was his chosen path.

"Oh my god, elizabeth. Stop acting like there aren't a million other guys that wanted to go with you tonight. You should've went one of your preppy jocky freinds."

Jughead saw a flash of hurt across her face before it descended into anger. "You're right, jones. I got asked many times. But guess what? I didn't want to go with any of them! I wanted to go with you!"

He scoffed. "Why the hêll would you want to go with me? Look at you. You live on elm street. You are valedictorian AND the leader of the cheer team. You are like literal perfection. I'm from the wrong side of the tracks. I'm the leader of a gang. Why would you wanna go with me?" He asked her.

"Because.. I don't care about that stuff. Because as much as i should, as much as i'm scolded for even looking at you, i can never get you off my mind. Last summer, spending like every day together, it was amazing. I never told you but i fell. Big time. But, i knew it would never work in this town. So when i found out that we were both gonna be in new york next year. I was hopeful for some kind of future. But they were right. My sister, my friends. They told me that you are a snake, and not just by title, you are a fück boy. The best thing you have is your poisonous bite." She muttered, wiping a tear that threatened to fall down her cheek.

He took a moment to let her rambling words sink in. She loved him. Never in his life would he thought that she would love him. Yet, he had suppressed the same feelings. Maybe that was why he asked her to the dance. But he was scared. Because he was almost certain that she would never return those feelings. So, he sabotaged things. Because it seemed easier than being shot down. He felt the guilt on his shoulders. The guilt weighed so much. If he was in water, he would've drown by now. But, he was once more brought to reality when betty said something.

"I think you need to go." Betty told him, chewing on her bottom lip.

Jughead looked up at her. He was filled with sorrow and regret. "Betts, please don't make me go." He said, his voice cracking a bit. He wasn't used to vulnerability. But, he felt like he was on the verge of tears.

Betty didn't answer him, she didn't even look at him. She turned her head away from him and refused to meet his eyes. Her jaw clenched as she tried to contain herself.

Jughead sighed, but he had got the message. He looked at her. "I'm sorry, truly." He whispered, patting her shoulder. His heart breaking with each step he took away from her.

Betty looked back at him. She grabbed his hand before he could too far. She turned him around and pulled him into a deeply passionate kiss. She cupped his cheeks as she kissed him.

Jughead breathed but kissed her back. He was confused, but he grabbed her waist and pulled her closer to him. Though, before he even knew it, the kiss was over.

She pulled away from him, letting her arms fall to her side after she peeled his hands off her waist.

Jughead looked at her with utter confusion. Talk about mixed signals. "Um.. Why?"

Betty simply smiled at him. " I just want to remind you of what you could've had. What you let go. And i hope to good she was a good enough fück to let me go." The blonde told him with narrowed eyes. "Now run along, you dirty snake." She muttered.

He gulped and continued on to the window, climbing out. He watched as she slammed the window behind him. "I love you, princess." He whispered before he continued down the ladder. Perfection was his. And he let it slip through his fingers. That would forever live with him.

@riverdalepromptathon

#bughead #betty cooper #riverdalepromptathonweek6 #dontflop #lowkey shitpost

[hoopdiddies]

I'm Not Over You// Ben Hardy x Reader (10.1)

A/N: The last part! Here you go! Thanks for supporting the entire series, guys. Means a lot ♥ ♥

Summary: A wedding brought you apart and it will be a wedding that will bring you back together

Warnings: Microscopic angst and FULL ON FLUFF

WC: 3k

Tags: @haendel-me-with-care

@mrsdoradominguez-barnes

@mickmoon

@lakef

@mrsmazzello

@valeriecarolinaw

@queen-turtle-boiii

@loveandbeloved29

@hazme2

@boherahpsody

Parts: 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

"What- I thought Gwil- never mind, did I hurt your shoulder?" You stumble over your words and he chuckles, the curve his red lips are sporting making your insides melt.

"No, you didn't."

"Oh thank heavens. Sure I didn't add to your injuries? " You had to say it but luckily, he shakes his head good-naturedly and seems to have shrugged off the issue. "I'm okay now. I've been for so long actually." At least you've got the conversation going, against the odds of you doubting that it might've ended up awkward with how long you haven't been in touch. You smile crookedly and rub your arm, sighing profoundly to say another word but as you open your mouth to do so, Ben beats you to it. "What about you? How've you been?"

You shrug. "Same old but tortured...and pissed...at Joe...for doing me injustice like that." He rubs the back of his hair and cocks his head to one side. "Oh? Tell me about it."

You give him a brief, speculative look– thinking that it's a miracle you're talking normally like you haven't kissed each other the day you left him lamenting on a hospital bed, been in contact for an entire year and made love with your eyes during the ceremony– in that order.

You snap out of it and look around the busy reception. "I- well-"

"To make it easier, let's head out for a walk on the beach, shall we?" Ben steps aside to let you leave before him and you tuck a tendril of your hair behind your ear, nodding as you walk ahead. He follows you out and you glance over your shoulder, looking past him and seeing Joe wiggle his brows at you from their table– to which you widen your eyes in annoyance and a little gratitude.

Your walk has been graced with the twinkle of a thousand stars and the calm splash of the evening waves against the shore. You've let your hair down from the tight bun you've put it in and taken off your sandals to traipse along the water while Ben remains along the dry sand to stay practical– not that you aren't. He just has his shoes on while you're holding onto yours.

You haven't strolled far from the party with the lamps spanning from the vicinity within the reception still present as you tread along. You've told him all about Barcelona and your studies and everything else concerning your life there; so far it's been good and jolly. He's taken a new project and is in the process of filming, something you've congratulated him on as well– the previous one being his full recovery and you didn't bother to bring up the prior events to that, it might just lead to something you'd lose your voice to talk about. It's a relief that you are able to share a few laughs in between, something you thought wouldn't be possible anymore. You haven't talked to each other like this is ages.

"I guess we're both working our fingers to the bone." He chuckles and stops in his tracks to enjoy the breeze. You involuntarily mimic his stance and stand semi-still on the water, tossing your sandals onto the driest part of the sand.  "I guess. Business before pleasure they say."

"Well my business is my pleasure so it seems like it only applies to you." The smile on his face widens thoroughly and you scoff underneath your breath, swinging your leg back and forth, creating mini splashes. "Excuse me, it applies to neither of us. I love working for something I know will finally lead to my dream."

He hums and bends down to pick up a pebble, casting it smoothly against the water and makes three skips. "It just occurred to me that you never once told me anything about your dream to become a doctor or anything." You give him a fleeting smile and shake your head, crossing your arms as you begin admiring the sky. "If I had told anyone, it wouldn't come true."

"Seriously?"

You raise your hands up briefly in defense and let out a chuckle, bending down to pick up a pebble to skip as well. "I'm living proof that it's effective, you should try it sometime." While you cast your pebble and watch it skip, he studies you intently and with great focus, drawing in a sharp breath before taking off his shoes to join your spot in the shallow water. He sets it aside and stands next to you, lifting his gaze up to the sky and then to you as you take in the cluster of stars dotting the heavens.

The gleam in your eyes as you beam at the starry view puts him under a spell and you sense his piercing stare, encouraging you to catch his fixed look. "What is it this time?"

He gulps, his mouth going dry. "I've sent you a message a couple of weeks back. Never got a response from you..."

You angle your head to one side amusingly. "I replied? Maybe you just don't check your inbox that much- and wait, I changed my number, how did you-"

"Our boy, Joe."

Of course. Joe really needs a new girl in his life, he must be exhausted from being such a mediator.

"And yes, I don't check my inbox a lot. Busy as a bee lately." He adds with a defeated smile present. You weave your fingers together, keeping your vision limited to the horizon yet sensing his eyes penetrate through you.

A little shy to let him see your blush creeping up your cheeks, you tear yourself away from his gaze and sigh inwardly. "I know that look somehow."

"For the third time asked in this lifetime, would you care to finish the dance we had at the after party? A dance to satisfy all the dances we never had the chance to finish. "

Your mouth shamelessly hangs like an attic door with loose hinges at how he was able to remember that. You recall his attending physician say that there would be no risks of amnesia or any sort of memory loss, although he shouldn't be able to recall minor details.

But then your dance wasn't a minor memory.

Ben's still waiting for your answer and you recompose yourself from the jaw drop, stuttering in the slightest as you speak up.  "Uh y-yeah. I mean, we never get to finish dances, am I right?"

Without tethering himself from taking your hand in his, he draws you close to him, the movement of your legs making small ripples and swishes in the water. You can't keep a firm eye on him and as he understands your uncertainty due to how long it's been since the pair of you have closed a distance, he manually positions your arms around his neck, putting a little forethought into snaking his hands around your waist to ease you into it again.

"Hey, like old times, right?" He cajoles softly and you look up at him.

"Like old times." You repeat after him and find it easy to stare into his eyes again, once more submitting yourself to the metronomic beat of your heart. He initiates with light sway, feeling the crashing waves beneath your feets put an effect to how you're moving. With you studying every detail of his face adoringly, you notice the small yet noticeable scar on the near left of his forehead; a small residue of his injury. You frown as you reach up to trace your finger smoothly across his scar, your heart breaking at the memory of that night.

Ben takes notice of your flitting expression and cups your cheek to alleviate the worry you've put yourself in at the sight of his scar. "Hey, hey. Don't worry about it, I'm okay now."

You hang your head apologetically, chewing on your bottom lip with the urge to bring up what you wanted to suppress out of guilt.

"I'm sorry if I left you like that. At the time you really needed me the most, I scrammed and ghosted you for an entire year. I broke my promise, your arm and a small fraction of your skull," as inappropriate as it is to laugh a little at it, you let it slip past your lips anyway to give it a stretch and lighten the weight on your shoulders, "and it's all thanks to Joe for making up that worst case scenario."

Joe did say you'd hurt him on every possible level– ranging from physical to spiritual. Though you didn't afflict him physically per se, your carelessness on the highway did. "I'm so sorry, Ben, for letting my emotions get in the way of what we had. Our friendship. You loved someone else then and being in a way cursed with unrequited feelings, I-I had to distance myself."

He assures you with a loose smile, twirling you under his arm and leisurely pulling you back to his body. "Every bit of it is alright. I had sworn on the day we met that I'd protect you with every fiber of my being and I should be the one that's sorry. All you ever did was love me," he stares down at you intimately, lifting your hand to his lips and kissing your knuckles, "though how clueless and unbearable I was," a kiss to your wrist, "through all my complaints and nasty fits," a kiss to your cheek, the sensation making you giggle slightly, "through my clumsy tendencies, " a kiss to your nose, "through all my mood swings after a bad day on set," an elongated kiss on your forehead, parting away deliberately before flicking his eyes to your lips and back to your Y/E/C orbs. He gulps audibly at how he's asking you for permission to do it. "When I couldn't return that love to you because I was blind enough to let Rosy stay. For loving me...in both my lowest and highest."

He's risking a few inches in but you can tell he's holding back. You slacken your arms from his neck, little by little dropping them to your sides as his green eyes finally overwhelm you.

The corner of his eyes crinkle as he smiles, breathing out the words you've long waited for. "You've held my heart in your hands even when you were miles away and though you won't be staying for long, I'll always be waiting." In the same way you had when you left, you tip your head back to let his lips meet yours only this time it doesn't take him by surprise. Your lips don't move against each other for a few seconds and you pull away, breathless.

His green eyes are wide yet flecked with awe, unruly brows lightly creased together with small strands of his combed back, blond hair falling into them but they soften as the smile on his face widens. "You're not with Joe, are you?"

You chuckle, shaking your head and heaving out a defining exhale. "I never was. You're not with Rosy anymore, are you?"

He shakes his head as well and it appears the blissful grin on his face won't be coming off anytime soon.

"Long done. I love you, and you alone."

You'll be blaming him later for the ear-splitting grin now etched on your face.

"I love you too, Benjamin."

He throws his head back in relief and lifts you up in his arms, tilting his head back as he savors the full feeling of your lips on his, the kiss gradually becoming open-mouthed.

As if on cue, the fireworks meant for Rami and Lucy come launching up into the sky and bursting into bright colors, the sparks raining down and vanishing into thin air shortly after. Cheers of the people emanate from the party as Lucy and Rami share the same kiss from outside at the same time you and Ben are. You pull away with unridable grins on your faces and share the magical sight of the fireworks lighting up the night sky with no other disturbances to ruin the moment.

"You think they'd start wondering where we are?" You hum with your head rested against his chest. He kisses your hair and smiles as he tightens his hold around you, revelling deep in the moment.

"They'd get the idea, babe. They'd get the idea."

Lucy was right, Ben has always been your soulmate; the three dances you've had in your lifetime somehow always brought you back to each other. Hopefully the one you just had will be the one that will never tear you both apart ever again.

You've yet to thank Joe for tricking you into thinking that it was Gwilym he wanted to spin you off to.

How magical is that tape you used to stick the polaroids together?

It somehow pieced you and Ben in the same manner and stood the test of time.

-Fin-

#borhap #queen #ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy x reader #borhap cast #borhap cast x reader #borhap imagine #ben hardy fanfic #imagine #fanfic

[azulaahai]

A prompt for you! Jon and Sansa are in an arranged marriage and Sansa finds out that Jon has been leaving WF to visit the brothel in Wintertown a few times. What she doesn't know is that he's there because he's making sure that the Wildling women who now work there aren't being mistreated as he feels responsible for them.

Hey, thanks so much for the prompt, sorry it took a while - this became longer than planned, and pretty melodramatic lmao but anyway - hope you like it! :)

Also put this on AO3

* * *

I: SANSA

Those songs Sansa loved always ended when the war in them did, when the giant was slain and the castle retaken. She’d never heard a song that spoke of how the giant never stopped haunting your nightmares, or how the castle for evermore held ghosts. Her search for guidance in them was therefor fruitless, and more than in a  long while, Sansa missed her mother - her soothing words and clever advice.

Lady Catelyn had always known what measures to take, though Sansa was certain her mother would not be too glad at her eldest daughter’s situation had she lived to see it.

Sansa would like to think her marriage was not an unhappy one. She was fond of Jon and he of her, and there was a mutual respect, a quiet understanding that stopped the silence that filled most of their time together from becoming uncomfortable.

But there was silence, aye - too much of it. In addition, Sansa had been getting the feeling that her husband was hiding something from her lately - it was subtle, and had she confronted him about it, he’d surely have denied it. But he’d seemed so distant of late. Were they still so broken, had the scars not healed, was it still the war that haunted him?

Perhaps her husband was just burnt out to exhaustion by the workload. The wildling settlements in the Gift kept them all busy. Sansa knew Jon was preoccupied with his duties - by the gods, did she now know the weight of a crown - but he appeared even more burdened lately, stumbling into bed just an hour or two before dawn, and spending more and more of his waking time away from her.

So when the news came, Sansa wasn’t as surprised as she might have been, but the revelation still hit her like a punch.

“Are you certain?” she asked aloud. The lady before her curtsied and nodded, looking up at Sansa with glittering, intelligent eyes. She was newly married to a lesser lord sworn to house Stark, and likely eager to gain the queen’s trust by being the first one to bring her the news - no matter how disturbing those news were.

“Positive, your grace. My husband saw him, in broad daylight, stepping out of the establishment, as if he didn’t care who saw.” The lady blushed, and though Sansa knew her embarrassment was likely for show, she admired the girl’s acting abilities. She’d fit in King’s Landing. “I’m so very sorry to have to tell you this, your grace. But I thought you ought to know.” Sansa lowered her eyes, having to gather herself before responding with the proper regality.

“I appreciate you coming to me with this.” She wasn’t sure she truly did. Sometimes naïve innocence was to prefer over knowledge and a broken heart. “I shall handle this matter in private. I must ask for you to speak of it no more, not to anyone at all, do you understand me?” The girl once more curtsied gracefully.

“Of course, your grace. You can count on my discretion.” Sansa wouldn’t at all count on that, but there wasn’t much to be done since she wasn’t about to bribe or scare the girl to silence. Besides, if the things she spoke of were true and Jon continued with this behaviour … there would be no stopping the rumours, then.

She dismissed the girl, and when the chamber door closed and Sansa was alone at last, she closed her eyes, trying to keep the feelings of betrayal and grief that threatened to overwhelm her at bay by analysing the situation as rationally as she could manage.

So.

Her husband had - allegedly, Sansa reminded herself - been visiting a brothel in Wintertown.

Sansa could hear how naïve it sounded even as she thought it, but the only thing she could think was - not Jon. Jon would never. Jon, her sweet Jon, who’s first words to her after their wedding in the godswood had been that Ghost was her wolf now as much as his (which was so adorable and silly that Sansa never failed to smile when she thought about it), who knew exactly what it meant to grow up a bastard - would that man start visiting a brothel without explanation?

The thought calmed her. No, he would not. It could not be true. She would not believe it.

Not until she saw it with her own two eyes, Sansa thought, a plan beginning to form in her head.

* * *

To Sansa’s fright, an opportunity to put the plan to work presented itself the very next day. Jon was taking his mid-day meal with her and their friends, for once not eating alone in his solar whilst continuing to work. Though he was there in the flesh, his mind seemed to be far away somewhere, and it pinched Sansa’s heart to see him so distant.

“Jon?” she asked gently, placing a hand on his arm. Her husband blinked at her, startled.

“Forgive me, my love.” His love, now - was she? “I was thinking of something else.” Sansa managed a smile.

“I just asked if you’d like to take a ride this afternoon? It’s been a while since we rode out together.” She wasn’t a very fond rider, but she treasured the little explorations of the northern woods Jon took her out on. (Or used to take her out on.)

The moment she uttered the words, her certainty about Jon not being involved began to fade. His face became stern, closed - by the gods, he was hiding something from her.

“I can’t this afternoon. I have business in Wintertown.” Sansa’s heart sank.

“Perhaps I could accompany you there”, Sansa said smoothly, hating the pleading streak in her voice but unable to stop herself. She had to know. Had to find out.

“I’m afraid my business would only bore you”, Jon said, making Sam - who was seated at his other side - look up from his meal with a surprised look upon his face. Jon wasn’t usually so dismissive about Sansa’s role in the rule of the North, both of them careful to put up a united front even in matters where they disagreed. Sansa’s cheeks heated from embarrassment and anger. Anger was good, she thought - made it easier to push other feelings aside and focus on her goal.

To find out the truth.

* * *

“We should not be here, your grace”, Brienne said nervously, looking around with a hand on the hilt of her sword. “It is a bad part of town.”

“We’ll go back to the castle soon”, Sansa assured her, trying to hide the fact that she too felt a little nervous. “And don’t call me your grace”, she added in a whisper. “I’m Salys now, remember?” Brienne scowled, but nodded.

They walked down the street, Sansa keeping her head down and hoping the black hood she wore covered most of her features. A northerner recognising their queen now could quickly become awkward - and potentially dangerous.

Embarrassed, but lost, she had to stop and ask for directions, not looking into the eyes of the woman who with a grin pointed down the street. Brienne followed as Sansa hurried down the street, feeling like quite the spy as she spotted the sign marking the brothel - she stopped by a street-corner a few houses away, the allyway before her deserted.

As good a place as any, she thought, nodding to Brienne as she took a few steps forward before she stopped, attempting to draw as little attention to herself as possible.

Now, they could only wait.

* * *

They had been there for an hour or so, repeatedly been mistaken for women of the street (which was rather ironic, considering why they were here) and been soaked through by the gentle spring rain that had begun falling, and Sansa was just about to give up and ask Brienne to take her back home, when the street’s atmosphere suddenly shifted to one of delighted shock - the very air seemed to quake with the gossip that was to come.

For stepping out from the brothel - in broad daylight, just as the lady had claimed, walking towards his horse without even attempting to conceal his identity - was none other than the king in the North himself.

* * *

II: JON

Sansa hadn’t come down for supper that evening.

He’d been told his wife had a headache and was resting, but Gilly had refused to look him in the eyes as she said it, making Jon rather puzzled. His confusion only increased when he, after a rather awkward dinner during which no one seemed very talkative, found the door to his and Sansa’s shared bedchamber locked.

He knocked.

No reply.

“Uhm, Sansa?” he called out gently. Perhaps she was asleep. Had she locked the door by accident? “My love?” Still no reply, but now he heard movement on the other side of the door. He knocked again, irrational worry - never far from him since the war - making him tense. Silly visions of southern assassins or wild beasts having broken in flashed before his eyes.

“Sansa? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Jon”, she answered him, at last. “Just … you can sleep in your old chambers tonight.” Something about her tone was off. What in all the seven hells was going on?

“Of course I can, if you need me to”, he replied. “Do you need me to send for Sam?”

“No. I am well. Just leave me be.” Still, he hesitated. Her voice was strangely muffled, sounding almost as if she’d been weeping. Something was wrong.

“Sansa”, he said, frustrated. “What’s the matter?”

No answer.

“Would you open the door, love?” he tried again.

To his surprise, she did so.

Jon wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but it wasn’t the sight that greeted him. Sansa was still dressed in her dark-blue gown, her hair hanging loosely, messily. Her eyes were reddened from crying, making Jon’s heart ache, but that wasn’t what took him by surprise - it was the rage in them.

Sansa was furious.

“What…” Jon began, but Sansa stopped him by abruptly stepping aside, a rather hostile invite for him to enter. He did, and she shut the door behind him a little harder than necessary.

“Sansa. What is going on?” He was getting desperate.

“You tell me”, Sansa replied in a low voice. Remembering her curtesies, even when she was so obviously enraged. “You tell me what in all the seven hells” - Jon was startled to hear her curse - Sansa never cursed - “you were doing at the Wintertown brothel.”

Stupified, Jon stared at her. There were several things he could not believe about the situation - the fact that Sansa had just used the word ‘brothel’, the fact she’d even found out, the fact she’d been crying over him - and most importanly, how big a fool he’d been.

* * *

III: SANSA

He looked absolutely mortified at her words, and for a second Sansa’s heart broke all over again. It was true, then, and he wasn’t even going to explain himself, it seemed.

But then he spoke, startled, rushing through the words so quickly Sansa could barely keep up.

”Sansa, love, no – that’s not at all what – I don’t think you realise -”

”Do you deny it?” she asked quietly, hating her voice for breaking. ”I saw you, with my own eyes, stepping out of that brothel. I dare you to look me in the eyes and deny it.”

”Sansa”, he said, again grasping for words. ”I don’t deny being at that brothel, no -”

”Then go. I don’t want you here.” She turned away from him in a vain attempt to save face and gather herself without his eyes drilling into hers.

”Sansa”, he said again. ”Sansa. That brothel – there are wildling women working there.”

“I don’t want to know”, she snarled.

“That’s – not like that! I just – I learned they’d been coming to Wintertown and that some of them had turned to the brothels …” Jon looked away, clearly embarrassed. “I – I don’t want to shock you, my love -” Sansa rolled her eyes. Once, a million years ago, she might have objected to him speaking of such matters to her, but she was a woman grown, wed and bed, war-torn and strong.  

She could hear of a brothel. Aspecially one it seemed her husband frequented.

“- but several wildling women has started working on that brothel,” Jon continued, still rambling, “and – I wanted to make sure that they were looked after, is all. That the brothel keep didn’t see it as an opportunity to take advantage of the wildlings being new to town.”

Finally, he stopped for a breath, looking up at her with sadness in his eyes.

“I didn’t – I’d never touch anyone, of course.” He lowered his voice, straightening his back. “No one but you.”

“Jon”, she said. “I’m not a fool, nor am I nearly as frail as you clearly think me. If you …” She looked down at the floor, the words stuck in her throat. “I – there’s no need to make up stories for me. If you’d … I mean, if you’ve ever …” She trailed off again. By the gods, they were hopeless at this, weren’t they? “I’d just want to know.” It came out nearly a whisper.

“Sansa”, he pleaded. “I swear to you. I … There’s only you.”

Then - in a voice so low Sansa barely heard, softly - he said the three words Sansa’d been waiting to hear. Three words they’d been tiptoeing around - ‘my love’, he called her, ‘lovely’ sometimes, but at no point during their marriage had he uttered those three words aloud -

- three words that changed everything.

* * *

IV: BRIENNE

“You’re going to Wintertown, your grace? Again?” Brienne asked, glancing down the table at Jon, who had looked particularly infatuated with his wife this morning, smiling sheepishly towards Sansa more than once as they broke their fast. Sansa, too, seemed more chipper than usual, returning Jon’s smiles with almost girlish giggles.

Brienne was glad of it, of course - they must have worked out the issues of yesterday - though she still found it hard to forgive so grave an insult to lady Sansa as the one Jon had inflicted upon her yesterday. There must be something I don’t know, otherwise they wouldn’t be so upbeat.

“Yes”, queen Sansa replied to her question, eyes glittering. Then, in a lower voice - “But you needn’t come with me, this time. I am accompanying Jon on a supervision of the working conditions of wildlings in Wintertown.”

#jonsa #actuallyjonsa #jon x sansa #jonsafic #my fic #asks #prompts #amymel86

[a-life-on-purpose-blog]

Dear Life in Change,

How are you doing today? I'm okay and just busy living this life. You know, this breathe in breath out life..... one step at a time life. The coming of new patterns, new schedules, new peoples, just all those new things! I am not really sure what "okay" is right now, but hey I have to keep going, don't I . Are you searching too? Intent on finding any word that makes it a little easier to breath, and move, and get up.

I see you. You are not lost. I'm glad you're with me here, daring one. There is comfort in knowing that this change thing is not only my thing. We will be not-so-fine together. It's funny how going through a significant adjustment gives perspective to possibilities of who may have endured this before me? I've been desperately seeking for anyone who might relate to my sinking, searching for a glimpse of hope. Have you wondered if there is anyone who has endured this pit and they just never really mentioned it. Or did they and we just didn't notice? Perhaps today my lamenting cries are falling on inattentive ears as well.

But you're not alone, I'm here with you. This new circle of changing relationships, the racing mind of despair and desperation, the veil of complete confusion and anxiety has been worn out. Does it bring you comfort when they say that this won't last forever? No, me either.

We just know that right now feels like forever, how could it ever stop and is there truly hope of beyond. Will a new way actually be fine? We like the other way, it took a lot of work to create those old routines. Why change now? If change can be good why does it feel so miserable?

I hear the detached questions. I feel the isolation. Can't everyone just understand how heavy your soul is right now. Simple decisions quickly become mounting panic, you don't even trust yourself to respond appropriately. I know it, and often my choice for quietness, for stillness, is in pursuit of security or sanity. I want to avoid saying or doing or being something I will regret later. We are unhinged aren't we?

My precious one, we must stay together. I need you with me to survive and move into being this change. We will have to look for new moments to love, there really must be something good that can come out of this. Maybe? I am thinking that our friends before us, the kindred spirits of life changing survivors must have unearthed a secret. We will keep digging. We press on.

Be gentle with yourself my lovely. You are processing a different mode of living, you are learning and growing through this. Give yourself space and patience. Wisely pursue only what feels right at this time. You are free to say no to committments that won't nourish your spirit right now. Give your heart room to heal. There is peace and love and joy pulsing through your veins, let them bring you new life. Let truth push past the doubts and fears that want to suffocate the oxygen of each breath.

Lets step slowly, carefully, towards the hope ahead. I am with you, even in the hesitations and bitterness of regret, wishing it could be different. That it had been different. The weight of what has or has not been. We must accept the accomplished, the completed. and be brave. Together we are going to embrace our change, because we must. When we are ready.

Dearest soul traveller, we are needed on the other side of this journey. We know this don't we? Let's not rush down the path, lest we stumble ourselves - but when the time is right we can undergird the next life in change. They will look to us, our stories, our reassurance. Let's lean into the lessons of our remaking. Tell me about your trek, it's unique to you and so much value in it to share. You have found new strength in the courage required to get this far.

Thank you for being an inspiration, a friend, without judgement or demands. Together we will be renewed and better because of the refining. Our experience of life in change will become part of our magnificent design.

Warmly,

Vanessa

#writing #wellbeing #marriage #parenting #health #joy #trust #mental health