#just for that i won’t give her five years before the repercussions hit

[josiebelladonna]

kat von d is going to look like hell in ten years, regardless of the conversion

#‘lasers hurt tho’ and tat needles don’t? #’have you seen what goes in your food?’ as her defense for people concerned about her health #just for that i won’t give her five years before the repercussions hit #liver failure kidney failure blood disorders bc of the abundance of iron oxide… #i can’t stop thinking about that ‘alternative people going to church’ post now like that’s fascinating tbh #text #really though it’s one thing to be a condescending vegan—but to be a condescending vegan who’s also christian

[deadmicrophoneblr]

"The Piss Yellow Sidewalk"

A sidewalk, concrete– 

But not a normal sidewalk,

this sidewalk is piss yellow.

It’s sickening.

The grass beside it(puke green)

is not not quite so gross,

despite the color.

Perhaps it's simply who has

walked on it, who I’ve seen on it–

Or the fact that I’ve walked on it, one

two, too many times. 

Same path, every time.

Straight, up–

Left? Straight?

Left anyway, down– 

To what? 

A store? Or collection of them,

a road?

A crosswalk or a car,

who’s car? My dad’s?

His weathered face, (but also) somebody

else’s, just 

two years ago.

Not my Dad. Not his car.

Her mother, her (mother’s) car–

Her house, her couch, her

cat–

Nova, Novocaine–

Numb the pain,

super-strain,

super-size(me)

no, 

less–

smaller–

be smaller,

be less,

be better(do better)

and be more(while being less)

to do nothing is to do, be on your

way? My way(her way)

Her goals, my actions, my

brain, her thoughts

think(think(think))

I can’t simply

Think.

Do that, just

------- had trouble breathing when she was stressed too.

How did she deal with it?

She never really did. Do you?

I try to–

Breathe.

In, out(pause)

In, out(pause)

In, out(pause)

In, out–

Think(one by one),

I think you’re just painting it worse in your head than it really is–

Maybe not that(not then)

Now I’m on the same

side of the sidewalk,

as before(two years), same chips,

same dips,

Divots and all, and

the same long walk down to a car(or crosswalk).

Want to come over, -------? We’ll be alone, but you can finally pick up your birthday present!

I can try. The Ice is pretty bad–

Just do what you can! I want to see you–

Once I hit that same 

square on the piss yellow sidewalk, I see 

eyes(theirs(hers?(both))) and the door handle, and

I feel the seatbelt. her seatbelt

gripping my skin, move it

just above–

A little higher(not that high, then you look fat)

They’d ask, once I was 

in her (mother’s) car,

big words(small talk) and

the same things they’d ask any other kid, except

I was me. Unhurt and

unborn(loving and living)

so my answers were different.

And yet, somehow, her words, her

actions, her moves

I think I like you.

were just traps(half a year of them)

I think I like you too.

feigns, misdirection, keeping me in the 

palm of her hand

I don’t think I’m ready for a relationship.

to keep me occupied and 

I understand. I’ll wait until you are.

scarring me, giving me

(her) problems,

(her) concerns,

(her) emotions, 

(her) pain–

hers, all

hers.

And she put me right at the bottom(rock bottom), where I was finally

at her level.

And she used me as a 

stepping stool, to get out, while

I rotted away,

and I had to use my overgrown fingernails to

claw my way out of that grave.

I just don’t care anymore–

And not without the repercussions,

of things like my rants(like the one from earlier) where

all my thoughts(every last one of them) hit me at once

tightening my chest (and every organ with it)

I can’t breathe, clear my head, or

Think

But I can think about Her.

All about Her

And half a year(of falling for her traps)

and another half a year (of mourning my name)

a whole year of pain (suspicion and confirmation)

Into a summer of grieving, grieving me(who I was)

grieving my name, my middle name and even my last–

mourning me, ------- S. -----------–

and everything He had(courage, happiness, empathy(everything.))

And she kept going(through the summer, the next year)

always and forever

Checking In.

And I see that message. Above it her last, from

five months ago.

Are you ghosting me?

Her and her

Addiction–

I think she’s–

to–

Ghosting me. I see her in class every day and yet she just won’t–

Scroll up just a bit and you can see when

I was still desperate to have her back, even if

it was just having the idea of her back.

the concept, or

the feeling, or

the Feelings–

But no longer do I want any.

I want her to leave me alone, to stop

sending messages at the dead of the night, just when

I’m doing better, that read:

Checking In.

How long has it been since I was on this stupid sidewalk?

This piss yellow sidewalk,

Our sidewalk, the one we walked on every time–

Our run down sidewalk, that

led us to her house every time(never mine),

A year? Two years? 

It clearly hasn’t been long enough, otherwise

it wouldn’t make me think of Her, and scramble for

a reason to hate, hating it(wishing it was her)

solely for its color.

It’s not the sidewalks fault that

It’s piss yellow.

It’s not the sidewalks fault that

It’s been worn over the years.

But it will always be her fault that I died two years ago and never came back.

It will always be her fault that my music taste died two years ago and never came back.

It will always be her fault for ruining the beach(an island of oak) and a book(one about horses).

But it will always be my fault for falling for Her(tricks, traps, and lies).

And it will always be our fault that we were on the piss yellow sidewalk.

#poetry #writeblr #original writing #creative writing #writers on tumblr

[embrassemoi]

𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬

Pairings: Sirius B, F!Reader, Remus L    Content: swearing, angst, no proofreading, filler? A/N: i hope your week has been great so far xx

【 Masterlist | Previous Chapter | ao3 】

Chapter 35 ✷ Picture’s Up

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James couldn't recall a time where he felt so drained.

He didn’t even think there was a word to encapsulate just how drained he really felt. Every day, there was a wariness that sunk and immersed itself so deeply within his bones that made it feel like he could hardly breathe.

Day by day, it felt like a part of his sanity was cracking.

Enervated, drowsy, exhausted, knackered, dead on his own two feet… he could go on.

Prefect duties were as dreadful as Remus had said they were and James regretted every time he ever made fun of him for it. It was miserable and karma never hit him harder. Monitoring detentions and rounds were tedious, the tests he had to grade were mind-numbingly boring; all forcing him to lose the little sleep he had.

And then there were the loads of Quidditch practices that once were fun, a way for him to exert his remarkable supply of energy, only became a bit of a nuisance with the overwhelming activities he was forced to juggle.

Working around Moony’s moon cycle...

And then there was the fucking Black family.

The mere mention of their names sent James into a spiral. He’d rather submerge himself into the Black lake and let the giant squid ink all over him than deal with them. But there he was.

He debated for a while, whether or not to tell Black about Regulus but refrained. He was far too stubborn to listen and could make matters worse.

James sighed, leaning into the couch in the common room, running his fingers through his hair.

“Potter.” The ring of Lily’s voice sounded through his ears. James turned around to look at her, feeling his heart accelerate.

“Evans,” he greeted.

“We have rounds in a bit. Don’t be late.”

James simply nodded, not having enough energy to put on a front.

And of course Lily noticed. She noticed his frazzled appearance and lack of energy. There was hardly any banter between them and Lily would’ve thought it was a miracle that his annoying self had vanished, replaced with timorous energy. But if anything, it was disquieting.

She bit the inside of her cheek, forcing out, “Hey, you alright?”

He gave a little audible sound in response. “Yeah. I’ll be there. I just need to make a few arrangements quickly. Meet you by the... Prefects’ bathroom?”

Lily considered him.

“... See you.”

James made his way out of the common room, slipping out the Marauder’s Map. He’d been tracking Regulus’ movements for the past few days now and the only person he went to was Y/N for any substantial amount of time.

He truly had no one else and it ruled out any potential bullying.

Walburga and Orion… Their treatment towards him shocked James. Golden boy Regulus, who would’ve thought?

But even with the Marauder’s Map, it was impossible to keep track of him. He never stayed in one spot long enough to catch, aside from the dungeons and Slytherin common room.

Everything regarding Regulus’ situation forced James to think strenuously. If he were to accidentally say too much of what Whiskers had told him, not only would Regulus close himself off to him, but to her too, leaving them with no clue of his well-being.

And it forced him to worry about Whiskers. She didn’t know what she's getting herself into… What if Walburga and Orion caught word of their friendship?

James shuddered, pushing away the thought. He didn’t want to think about what would happen to either of them.

He continued to watch Regulus’ name travel across the map before ascertaining he was close. He tapped on the map, muttering out ‘Mischief managed’ whilst bolting down the hallways. Each twist and turn exhilarated a nervous adrenaline thumping through his veins as he rehearsed a little speech inside his head.

Before Regulus had time to process what was happening, James had already yanked him back, disappearing into one of the secret passageways.

“What the — Potter?!” He squawked. Pushing him away, James saw the pure panic washed over his features through the shadows.

“I know we don’t have much time,” James rushed, “But hear me out.”

He made no attempt to move but looked around for other students.

“You’ll always have a home with me,” James said easily as if it was the most obvious answer. “With Bla — Sirius — living with me, you’re more than welcome to as well. I understand your situation and —”

“No,” Regulus leered, “I can’t.”

“You can’t or you won’t?” James challenged before easing up. “My family and I are more than willing to protect you, like how we’ve been doing for Sirius.”

And then it stayed silent for a while and he finally let himself take in his appearance.

“Regulus, what happened to you?”

Regulus’ head hung. “All I wanted was to have long hair.”

And then it clicked for James, but he was running out of things to say that were convincing and felt a familiar panic return.

“You miss him, right?” He tried. “I know he misses you. If maybe —”

But when Regulus’ mood suddenly changed, James knew instantly that he had miscalculated.

“Miss me?” Regulus laughed bitterly. “He doesn’t miss me and he has never considered me his brother. You, Lupin, Pettigrew — you’re his brothers.”

He could see the misty tears welding up in Regulus’ eyes and didn’t make a move to stop him when he stormed out from the passageway.

Once Regulus was free from James, he sprinted, blinking multiple times to prevent tears from seeping out. An ache burned inside his chest as he found himself diving into his bed, pulling the curtains shut.

Those unforgettable questions that plagued his mind for a year now played heavily in his mind, like his own personal film.

What made someone good or bad? What did he believe in? Was he strong enough to break from his mould or did he want to? And most importantly, what was he willing to do?

Blood purity…

Regulus closed his eyes. He wished life was a dress rehearsal and there were times to make mistakes and have do-overs without permanent repercussions. To get time to practice and refine life until he explored every avenue. Unfortunately, life had no room for anything but the final performance. Every stumble, every mishap or memory slip was presented to a live audience day by day.

Reopening his eyes, he had his answer.

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A few weeks went by and September was coming to a close. October came with beautiful colours and a chilly breeze.

It felt like every day, Y/N added another reason to be disgruntled and hateful onto her list. It had been a month since she’d last seen her mother and she refrained from sending any letters; waiting patiently to see if she would make the first move.

Nothing.

It was safe to say that it put her into a bad mood that morning.

The walk to Defence Against the Dark Arts with Lily was a quiet one and slightly uncomfortable. However, the uncomfortable bit was more on Lily’s end rather than Y/N who was too wrapped in her anger-induced thoughts.

These days, their lessons were almost exclusively in the Duelling room, filled with practical lessons. Especially today, she was beyond thankful for; eager to have an outlet.

But Professor Elway was unusually keen on inviting her to the Duelling sessions. She was almost as difficult as dodging Slughorn’s Slugclub invites. Luckily, Y/N liked Elway and duelling was electrifying. Even potion making, no matter how much she enjoyed it, was lengthy and mundane.

Mentioning their professor, she wasn’t there that morning when they arrived outside the Duelling room. The students lounged outside the door, taking out their books and wand while they waited.

Remus found himself drifting to her as they quietly chatted away.

“Like your sweater,” she said. In the background, she could hear Marlene and James yelling, “It’s a jumper!”

Remus smiled. “This old thing?” Pointing to the sweater that she knitted. They both giggled a bit; Remus leaned slightly against her, eyes lingering a beat.

“Sorry, I’m late!” Elway called out to them in a dreamy voice. “Everyone, follow me!”

Puzzled, the class looked at each other as they followed their professor away from the dungeons. While they walked, rude and unbearable, Peeves the Poltergeist floated upside down. Once he spotted Remus, he immediately drifted up to him, opening his mouth, no doubt about to hurl all sorts of names or songs at him.

Remus hardly looked at him, already taking out his wand and said lazily, “Waddiwasi!” at Peeves.

A wad of gum shot out from nowhere and landed directly on Peeves before he whirled back from Remus, spewing curses at him.

“Nice one! Ought to teach me that later!” “Almost feel bad for the bloke!” Both James and Peter said at the same time.

Elway had led them outside to a desolate area, free from a canopy of branches and leaves.

“Now, my pupils!” She sang. “You might be wondering, ‘what are we doing out here?’ Lucky for you, we’re going to be practicing a few spells and learning how to fight using other means during duels.”

Like most of the class, Emmeline was ​skeptical as she raised her hand. “I thought we weren’t supposed to use physical means during duels?”

“Precisely,” said Elway, walking back and forth in front of the class. “Couldn't have said it better myself. But you know who won’t give a damn?”

There was a long pause for effect.

“Your enemies.” She clapped her hands together. “Now, can anyone give us some ideas? How about… Miss L/N?”

Blinking a few times, she hesitated, not expecting to be called on. “Er — you can… take them from the legs?”

“Wonderful idea! I’m thrilled you said that! Does anyone else want to add on?”

Remus raised his hand, answering politely. “Using your arms — stretching them.”

Professor Elway nodded away happily. “Wonderful answer! Take five points! Like Remus said, stretching your arms out or boarding your shoulders, spacing out your legs can widen your defence range! Why don’t we try?”

She called Remus up first and Y/N could tell he was slightly nervous. He doubled down, making himself seem smaller by hunching over and made sure not to accidentally hurt their professor.

A couple of Hufflepuffs, Slytherins and then James, Marlene and Lily all tried; mimicking Elway as she let them knock her over.

“Most importantly,” Elway said, dusting off her robes free from leaves and dirt. She panted a bit, tired from being knocked down multiple times. “Never let the enemy strike first. You all did fantastically!

“Obviously, in any professional setting, you’ll be disqualified if you ever tried to physically attack your opponent. But you can still play dirty in a duel!

“The charm Obscuro has been helpful on several occasions. It blindfolds your opponent. Please repeat after me: Ob-SKOO-roh!”

“Obscuro!”

“Excellent!” Elway gave a little applause, filled with glee. “Another spell that I love is the Confundus charm. Y/N! May you please explain to us the purpose of the Confundus charm?”

“She’s calling on you an awful lot,” Lily muttered.

She nodded a bit. “It confuses your oppent. The varying degree depends on how much magic is put into the initial casting.”

“Perfect! Five points to Gryffindor. If you will tell me about Incendio.”

As she spoke, there was almost a switch that went off in Elway that made her incessantly happy that almost unnerved her.

“Beautiful! Now if you may, help demonstrate the spell?”

“I don’t want to hurt —”

“Trust me, you won’t.”

Then, Y/N felt a deep lurch of fear as everyone retreated against the trees, giving her a clear view of Professor Elway opposed to her, waiting to block her spell.

She took a deep breath in, pushing up the sleeves of her robes, she held her wand.

Professor Elway had a protective spell around her. “One, two, three — now!”

“Incendio!” Only meek sparks shot out of her wand. A few students snickered while her friends were seen trying to drown them out by clapping.

“That was amazing!” Peter called out.

“I wouldn’t be able to do that on the first go!” Marlene shouted.

“That was good! Try again! One, two, three — go!”

“Incendio!” Nothing noteworthy happened. It was embarrassing.

“It’s alright, try again!” Elway said, not letting her go yet. “Think about something that’s motivating!”

Y/N closed her eyes, inhaling deeply and pondered. What was motivating to her? Surely, the want to continue with magic after school was motivating. Or perhaps proving someone wrong?

Proving someone wrong…

She had a lot to prove to her mother.

Instead of her being motivated, a flicker of annoyance and anger flooded her instead. Sensing the change, Elway beamed, her wand held high.

“One —”

Her mother always prioritized everyone and everything above her —

“Two —”

Was never there when it mattered —

“Three —”

There was never much affection. The constant want to please, the low self-esteem made her feel worthless, unloveable, always wanting to run when she got too close — she caused it —

“Now!”

“Incendio!” She bellowed.

A loud crack rippled through the air and caused her to stumble back. A large blast of orange and red flames shot out from her wand. Scorching heat flooded out, causing all the students to jump back as Elway shot waves of water, extinguishing the flames at once. As angry as she had been, glee and pure enjoyment replaced that quickly.

Once the bell rang, the students gathered up their belongings, leaving for their next class. But Elway took a moment, calling out her name, asking that she stay back for a few moments.

James and Lily staggered behind, offering to wait as they talked quietly under one of the willow trees.

They were so civil these days…

“I would’ve offered you a cup of tea,” Elway spoke as she approached her. Her foot tapped against the ground, her eyes far-away, thinking thoughtfully with a sly smirk. “Has anyone told you that you would make for an excellent, excellent duellist?”

Her eyebrows raised and shook her head.

That only prompted her teacher to smirk, in a satisfied sort of way. “You’re exceptionally strong for someone with no experience.”

There was a smug tone to Elway’s voice and she couldn’t quite place what she was getting at.

“Did you know that any professional duellist would kill for your wand? Or even the slight edge you have against them with your talent?”

“Erm… no?” Y/N said. She wondered if Elway needed glasses because surely, she wasn’t referring to herself. “Professor… are you sure you’re talking to the right student?”

She laughed so hard that she had to clutch her stomach tightly. She ignored her question. “My dear, do you have any ideas of what you want to be when you’re older?”

“Not really.”

“I have a proposition for you,” she beamed, flicking her long blonde, almost silver hair out of the way. “Let me take you under my wing, make you into a proper duellist.”

Y/N blinked. She didn’t know what to say and stood there with her mouth gaped.

“Yes, you heard that correctly.” Professor Elway teased. “I’d love to mentor you.”

She sputtered, positively confused and flustered. “I’m not at the top of the class, I struggle with Charms, I’ve never had a huge interest in it — I don’t know the first thing about duelling!”

“That’s what I’m here for, no? And your skill is exceptional and I know a duellist when I see one. You’ve shown the last few lessons that you’re capable of casting very strong spells.

“And do you know what separates a duellist from the masses? Energy, emotions and power. What changed when I told you to think about something motivating? A powerful Duellist may only be out of sheer power and brunt force, but a well-rounded Duellist listens to every part of their body. Their wand, their heart, the emotions that cause them to fight.”

“But —”

Elway flicked her wrist, mildly interested in her excuses. “Anyway, off to your next lesson. Take some time to think about it,” she smiled, clearly not going to take no for an answer. “I’ll be waiting for when you finally agree.”

Both Lily and James took her arms, hooking it with theirs and walked to Potions. They were staring at her, lost for words at Professor Elway’s proposition.

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“Yes, Pettigrew.” McGonagall scolded rather harshly. “The essay is due on Monday.”

Peter averted his gaze, grumbling out a thank you before exiting her office. “Dunno why she’s so strict with me.”

“She wants the best for you,” James tried to encourage as they all headed back to their common room.

Y/N couldn’t care less as she thought about later that night. No matter how hard she tried, Slughorn wouldn’t take no for an answer and she was almost forced to make an appearance at the Slugclub.

Lily was so excited, running through their dorm as she got ready.

Marlene sulked a bit, folding her arms across her chest. She was quiet enough for Lily not to hear, but Y/N heard her clear as day. “That’s not fair. I want to be invited. I want to feel special too.”

“You’re more than special,” Dorcas cut in, rubbing a hand up and down her shoulder. “You’re a star, baby.”

Y/N ignored them, fiddling with a small tube of eyeliner, watching Lily excitedly going through her closest.

Luckily, not only would Lily be there, but Remus, most likely Regulus — however, she doubted they would be able to interact — and funnily enough, James was invited too.

Inside the actual party was decent, a lot better than she expected. There were still the uptight students who thought they were above others, or the Purebloods that judged her when she walked into the room, but it was bearable.

Y/N chuckled as she watched Remus throwback drink after drink, sneakily stealing a few alcoholic beverages meant for the adults. His movements were so discreet that nobody ever suspected him.

She covered her smile behind her glass.

“Hi. It’s been awhile.”

Y/N turned around, and there, Aldrich McLaggen stood wearing a little smile. He trimmed his blond hair to sweep nicely and his cheekbones hallowed out.

“It has. And congratulations, I heard you’re on the Quidditch team.”

“Yes! Chaser - taking over Bell’s position.”

“So… How are you?”

If it was even possible, Aldrich’s smile grew wide. “I’ll be a lot better if I saw your smile tonight?”

She didn’t smile; unimpressed and decided to sip on her drink.

“Yeah,” Aldrich began again, “Didn’t think that would work.”

“A pretty big miss.” She grumbled.

“But I’m getting to know how to impress you in the future.”

Y/N turned to side-eye him. “Hmm? How?”

“How about -” And out of nowhere, he reached behind her ear and pulled out a red rose, handing it to her. Much like a Muggle magician.

She felt a coy smile tug at her lips and forced it down, but failed. “Nice one.”

“Everyone! Please come down and sit!” Slughorn announced, calling to all the students.

He beamed, flashing his teeth. “Don’t hide away again. I’d love to see you again.”

She tilted her head at him, tilting her glass before making her way to find her spot at the table.

The girl beside her had frizzy light brown hair and large glasses that looked like they were from an animated children’s television program. She was draped in a colourful shawl.

“Hi, I’m Y/N.”

But the other young witch smiled brightly, although never quite meeting her eyes as she outstretched her hand. “Sybill Trelawney.”

She shook Sybill’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

But then Y/N took a good look at her and realized, “We’re in the same charms class, right?”

Sybill nodded her head, fingers tapping rapidly on the table. “For two years now. I sit a row behind you. And by the way, you're very pretty.”

She was taken back, a genuine smile spreading over her lips. “Thank you, you look lovely too! I adore your glasses.”

A light blush spread across Sybill’s face, her hand brushing against her glasses. Her eyes peered up for a second before averting her gaze. Y/N couldn’t help but smile, already enjoying Sybill’s presence.

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【 Next Chapter 】

© gotkindabored 2021. Do not repost or modify

#remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin #Remus Lupin x reader #remus lupin fanfiction #sirius black x y/n #sirius black #Sirius Black x reader #sirius black fanfiction #Sirius Black x you #Remus Lupin x you #hp marauders #marauders fanfiction #harry potter marauders #harry potter x reader #harry potter self insert #harry potter fanfiction #hp series #hp angst #marauders x reader #sbtmas #young!remus lupin #young!remus lupin x reader #young!sirius black x reader #young marauders #young!sirius black #marauders angst #regulus black #Sirius Black angst #hp fanfic #harry potter series

[harrypotterximagines]

Picking Mushroom: A Severus Snape Short One-Shot

It was nearing the end of May at Hogwarts. A warm breeze danced through the large open windows that littered the halls, students chilling on window sills and spending a great deal of time out at the Quidditch pitch was evident of the beginning of summer. Trips to Hogsmeade became popular as students ditched their heavy winter coats for light jean jackets. It was perfect weather to enjoy with one's friends.

However, Zoe Kingsley found herself enviously staring at her fellow Slytherin peers, dressed up and ready to spend all their galleons at Honeydukes. It should be criminal to have detention on a Friday evening. Her back pressed against the cool cobblestone wall of the Slytherin dungeon, aimlessly idle as she waited for Professor Snape to come around and begin detention.

Her hands grasped at her tie as she unloosed it, growing anxious as time ticked on. She heard horror stories from her friends on how tough and nasty Snape could be during detention. She never received any sort of serious punishment before in her life. She was a well-round student, too busy trying to outshine Gryffindor and gain points for the House Cup. She was a dedicated Quidditch player as well, known for her insane Seeker skills. In Zoe's eyes, to be in detention with Snape, was a life-long sentence at Azkaban.

She took in a giant breath, her chest heavily heaving as the smell of moss and Blood-Replenishing Potion wafted through the air. The halls, especially around Snape's classroom, always smelled like some sort of mythical and magical scent. There was never any smell of flowers or fresh air, just mythic ingredients that bubbled into creation. As the halls gradually grew emptier, Zoe secretly hoped that Snape has forgotten their little evening together and she was free to go. But the sound of jangling keys and heavy footsteps made her fill with dread.

A tall, cloaked man dressed in black swooped down the hall. Emerging from the shadows like a bat coming out of its cage, Snape's cloak wildly whipped behind him as turned a cold shoulder on Zoe, unlocking his classroom door. He stepped in without a word, silently slithering to his desk and rummaging through his drawers. When he noticed the girl didn't follow him, his rock hard force turned sour, a disapproving scowl telling her that if she doesn't follow him, it'll be a long night.

Zoe took a few cautious steps inside the classroom, the door closing behind her once she was fully stepped in. Zoe looked around the dust-covered room. She could hear soft waves of the Black Lake hit the stained-glass window. His classroom when no one was in it was surprisingly calm. It was quiet, tranquil. It was also cold and typically dark, so when Snape didn't bother closing the curtains, Zoe could see the dust dance in the minimal amount of light that broke through the Black Lake. Zoe knew that the sunset outside must've been strong if it was enough to break through the swampy green that inhabited the Slytherin windows.

Zoe walked over to where she usually sat; in the back, a perfect corner to be hidden by the shadows. She plopped her heavy over-the-shoulder bag onto the desk. She was expecting to bang chalkboard erasers or grade student exams but when Snape stopped what he was doing and stared at her like she was insane, she assumed otherwise.

"Lucky for you, Miss Kinglsey, we won't be hosting detention in my classroom," Snape droned out.

Zoe's eyebrows furrowed, confused as to where they were going and what she would be doing.

"Do you understand the concept of the outdoors?" Snape scoffed, his beady eyes not breaking contact with hers.

"I'm sorry, sir, I didn't think we would be going outdoors."

"I best advice you to stop doing that or else your brain might explode," He snapped.

Zoe grabbed her bag again, her cheeks going numb and she could feel the blood rush to them. She understood her professor put on a mean persona, but she didn't know he was going to keep it going after hours.

Snape stepped away from his desk with two black wicker baskets, the front door to his classroom magically opening as he began to walk out without a word. Of course, Zoe was expected to follow without question. And this time she did so correctly. Snape sped down the hallways, Zoe finding herself having to occasionally jog to match his pace.

Suddenly, the two found themselves stepping into the warm sunlight and touching the soft, delicate grass the Hogwarts grouds had to hold. Chatter and banter muffled in the distance as birds chirped through the skies. Zoe could hear the chariot clambering away on the rocky pavement, heading into Hogsmeade. Desperately, she wished that was her. She blindly followed her Professor as they continued their journey. Zoe was hoping that Snape was going to drop her off at Hagrid's and he was going to take care of her himself. But when they passed his hut and his magnificently massive mountain of cauliflower, Zoe frowned to herself once more.

She realized where they were heading as they approached the Forbidden Forest. Zoe was convinced that time functioned differently in there. It was always a pale, cold blue once one enters that forest. It always smells the day after it rains and it feels like harsh eyes are watching your every step. It was an ominous place, a world within its own that housed creatures still unknown to the Hogwarts student body. It was highly advised since First Year to never enter that place, Merlin knows what kind of animal would jump out and attack.

Zoe felt the warm breeze get replaced with a chiller breeze. Tallgrass tickled her calves as she walked deeper into the Forbidden Forest with her Professor. Her eyes tracked the deep depths of the forest, making sure that there wasn't a mysterious shadow watching them from afar.

"We're picking Bursting Mushrooms," Snape spoke. His voice echoed and danced through the rotting, decaying trees. Se felt like his voice bounced off for miles, her heart hammering. She was afraid that anyone could be listening to their conversation.

"You do know what that is," Snape said, suddenly stopping in his tracks, making Zoe bump right into him. "Right?"

Zoe groaned, taking a step back and looking up at her Professor with wide, alarmed eyes.

"It's for the Fire Protection Potion. Their home is located here, in the forest," Zoe said, trying to keep her voice as hush as possible.

Snape narrowed his eyes down at his student, his lips pursing thin. He was quiet for a couple of seconds until he began his trail again, mentioning that they're not going too deep into the forest. Even though it's been five minutes of walking, Zoe felt like hours have passed. It was so eerily dark and suspiciously quiet in the forest, the concept of time didn't feel like a real thing. Finally, Professor Snape handed Zoe the black wicker basket and instructed her to search the base of the trees.

"Now, remind me again Miss. Kinglsey, if I didn't know what a Bursting Mushroom would look like, how would you describe it to me?" Snape said, getting down on his knees as he stopped in front of a tree. His head tilted low, his hands pushing and plucking away the tall grass.

"It has. white stalk and a red bulb cap with white dots on it. They're pretty large, hard to miss, but they can also quickly shrink if they sense danger."

Snape turned his head around his shoulder to look at his student, an eyebrow raised high. Again, for a couple of seconds, he was quiet until he suddenly spoke, "Well, get to work."

Zoe began to slowly walk around the perimeter of the area, keeping an eye out for a bright red mushroom. It was fairly easy to spot them when there was a random gust of wind that tilted the tall grass to the side. Zoe quickly managed to pluck at least two with ease. She glanced over at her Professors basket that was seemingly already halfway full. She knew that they weren't going to leave anytime soon unless her basket was filled to the rim with Bursting Mushrooms.

"For someone so intelligent and fairly bright," Snape spoke up, his deep voice right behind Zoe's shoulder.

"Can you care to explain that burst of anger in my class today towards Mister Malfoy?"

Zoe quickly spun around, her heart dropping as her Professor shadowed over her.

"I-I just got angry with him. sir. The way he was talking to Granger just filled me up with so much hatred. It's not fair that he can get away with his speech but when I stick up for a friend, I get the repercussions-"

"There is a fine line between speaking up for a friend and violently shouting obscene things to a classmate because you allowed your emotions to rule your heart," Snape interrupted, eyeing Zoe down.

Zoe gulped, looking to the side.

"And as for Mister Malfoy, he is going to be receiving his punishment. I don't allow any of my students to get favorable treatment. That would completely contradict my honor code of teaching," Snape snorted, turning his back and continuing to look around.

Zoe bit back a smile as she continued to do the same, her thoughts racing wildly. She never experienced her Professor become so . . . open before. She was intrigued to find out if he would be giving her any more advice tonight and if so, what would it be? She knew he was a wise, strict man, but she didn't think that deep down, he was sensitive as well.

Zoe wondered what punishment Draco Malfoy would be receiving. She began to conjure up the idea of him writing a three-page long essay on bullying or how to be nice to your fellow peers. Zoe spotted a Bursting Mushroom, ready to pluck it from its natural habitat, turning to look at Snape.

"So what kind of punishment-" Zoe cut herself short as she watched fear grow in Snape's eyes. He dropped his basket and ran straight towards her, forcefully pushing her body to the side. As Zoe's body thumped hard onto the ground, narrowly missing a rock that could've caused a concussion, an exploding sound rang through her ears.

Zoe blinked as she tried to gain her eyesight back, the ringing slowly fading as she acknowledged what was happening. She desperately wanted to scream but no noise coming out of her mouth. On the ground, covered in burn marks that were freshly sizzling on Snape's skin, Zoe crawled over to her Professor, violently shaking.

Snape was knocked out cold, bits and pieces of the Bursting Mushroom Zoe forgot to pick scattered across and around his body. She grabbed his head, gently placing it on her lap as she wildly looked around, confused and scared. She didn't know what to do and if leaving him here was the right idea. Any spells of protection and healing left her mind as, she too, laid limp.

Zoe felt the darkness of Forbidden Forest taunt her, an overwhelming omen that no matter who you are, only bad things happen to those who enter. Zoe felt like the universes laughing stock, Dumbledore's words echoing in her mind since she heard them from day one: "The first years, please note... that the Dark Forest is strictly forbidden to all students." Now here she was, six years later, clearly avoiding his advice and now stuck in a situation she accidentally created.

Zoe felt the waterworks turn on and in an instant, she was crying. Her shoulders shook as she violently sniffled, her eyes blurring from the hot, salty tears that dripped down her equally red cheeks. She couldn't live with herself if she caused serious, life-long, and permanent damage to her Professor. Zoe looked down at the man, her tears dropping onto his face, sizzling and creating steam as they hit his burn marks.

This made Zoe weep even harder, the trauma of the sound scaring her. Tears began to flow out her eyes, a waterfall of sadness as they continued to splash on his face. Zoe felt an immense amount of guilt as she swept his hair away from his face, hoping that he'd wake up on his own soon- what was that?

Zoe suddenly stopped crying as she watched the inflamed skin on Snape's face began to patch up. She watched as his molecules and atoms began to stitch up, creating a barrier of new, untouched, fresh skin. The few remaining teardrops on Zoe's face hit Snape and on contact, his skin began to heal.

Zoe watched in pure amazement and complete shock. Was she imagining this? Was she seeing this right? Zoe couldn't quite comprehend that her tears saved him. As his face slowly began to heal, the man below her began to shuffle and groan. In a matter of minutes, Snape was sitting up by himself, rubbing his head and looking around, confused.

"I can explain everything to you once we get out of here, sir," Zoe rambled, quick to intervene before Professor Snape had to chance of loading thousands of questions on her.

Zoe quickly stood up and gathered both of their baskets, going over and helping her Professor get to his feet. By the time they officially left the Forbidden Forest, the pink, strawberry sky fell to a dark blue, stars twinkling as they became brighter the darker the sky grew. Zoe was glad that they didn't spend any more time in there after his accident and even more relieved that he was walking alright.

The walk back was deadly silent. Zoe could tell her Professor was deep into his train of thought. She didn't want to interrupt him or put him into another state of shock so she waited until they both safely made it back to his classroom. Zoe never thought she would be as happy as she was to feel the cool and dampness of the Slytherin dungeons until this very second.

Inside Snape's classroom, Zoe placed the wicker baskets on top of his desks, watching him as he slowly sat down in his chair. He stared at the baskets, once filled to the top of Bursting Mushrooms and one barely making a dent into it. Instead of lashing out, Snape simply looked up at Zoe and asked, "What happened?"

Zoe bit her lip, unsure if she wanted to fully tell him the truth. "Sir, maybe you should go see Madame Pomfrey? Just in case-"

"Miss Kingsley, what happened to me in that forest?" Snape demanded.

Zoe shut her eyes, breathing out a sigh.

"You got injured and you knocked out for a while. But then you woke up and now we're here so-"

"Zoe," Snape demanded.

"You got hit with a Bursting Mushroom that I was too slow to pick. You pushed me out of the way before it could get to me and you took the fall . . . I'm so sorry, Professor!" Zoe said, randomly bursting out into tears. She covered her face with her hands, embarrassed.

"I know I should've been watching what I was doing, it was an honest mistake, I didn't mean for you to get hurt!"

Zoe cried into her hands, overwhelmed by the number of emotions she felt in one day. Zoe heard the scrape of Snape's chair and a heavy hand on her shoulder. Her hands were taken away from her face as Snape wiped away her tears.

"I know, Miss Kingsley," He said in a soft, soothing voice.

"I won't hold this against you. I thank you for taking care of me and watching over me at that moment."

Zoe nodded, her bottom lip quivering as she took a couple of deep breaths to regain her control.

"I won't pressure you tonight, but there's going to be a day where you tell me exactly how you saved me, Miss Kingsley. Bursting Mushrooms don't give you typical cuts or scrapes."

Zoe nodded, licking her dry lips, exhausted.

"You're free to leave, Miss Kingsley."

Zoe felt a weight lift off her shoulders as she turned to walk towards the door. She wanted nothing more than a warm shower and a nice, long sleep. As her hand grasped the cool metal of the door, Snape called out to her one last time.

"And keep this little incident between us, Miss Kingsley."

Zoe looked over her shoulder at her Professor who was storing the mushrooms in a glass jar. She gave him a small smile and headed off to her dorm for the night.

#severus snape #severussnape #snape #snaddy #daddy issues #daddy #slytherin #hogwarts #witchcraft #harry potter #severus snape one shot #severus snape imagine #severus snape headcanon #severus x reader #severus snape x reader #severus snape x y/n #snape fluff #fluff #severus snape fluff #snape x reader #snape x y/n

[hyperion-moonbabe-art3mis]

The Distance Between Us: 01. Escape from Hell

Summary: Alexandria Eaton is the youngest child of Marcus Eaton. What will happen when she defects from Abnegation and decides to follow in her older brother’s footsteps. Can she make it through Dauntless initiation with her secret or will she find herself in the factionless? And what will happen when the most cold-hearted leader takes an interest in her?

Post Date: 05.10.21

Word count: 2.2k 

Pairing: Eric Coulter x OC

Masterlist

DBU Masterlist

Warning: child abuse (just this first part)

Today is the day. The day that I get to start my new life away from this hell. It’s the day I take my aptitude test and tomorrow I can leave. Although I already know what I want, I’m still scared of the consequences of my actions. What is my father, Marcus, going to think of me? The factions, are they going to think something is wrong when the second child of the leader of Abnegation defects from her home Faction? I quickly try to get rid of these thoughts and start getting ready for the testing. 

I get dressed in a long grey skirt and a tank top. I then put my caramel brown hair in a neat low bun and open the mirror. I check to see if I need to fix my bun and look at myself studying the blue and purple bruises on my arms in the mirror. I leave the mirror open a little longer than I should have, the next thing I know it’s slammed shut.

“Too long,” The raspy voice of my father says.

“Sorry,” I respond quietly.

“You know better, Alexandria,” he says as he grabs my wrist tightly and pulls me from the chair and onto the ground. I stay on the ground while he goes over to grab a belt, afraid of more consequences for fighting back. The next thing I know he’s punishing me for leaving the mirror open too long. All I could feel was pain shooting throughout my body, as he hits me from all angles on my already bruised skin.

“Now finish getting ready, it would be a shame if you were late, representing me and this faction.” He says, with one tight grab of my wrist pulling me up. He expects me to upkeep our reputation since my brother had left and regardless of what happens in our house, I’m not allowed to speak about it. Especially now that Erudite is trying to discredit Abnegation. 

I then slowly slip on a loose long sleeve shirt, trying to ignore the pain. I grab my bag and go to meet my best friend, Beatrice Prior, and her brother, Caleb Prior, outside their house. I met her just after my brother had left and she is the closest thing to a real family, she had become my escape and my rock. We knew that no matter what faction we’d choose, we’d be happy for each other. After a few minutes of waiting they finally come outside.

“Hey Alexandria, you ready?” Beatrice says hugging me as I try not to wince.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, you guys?” I respond looking between her and her brother.

“I’m nervous,” Beatrice says.

“ Let me help you with that,” Caleb says, running over to an elderly woman to help her. I follow quickly behind and grab a few items.

“Beatrice, do you wanna get the other bags?” Caleb questions looking over at her.

After helping the elderly women we continue to walk to where the aptitude test is administered. I tune out most of the conversation Beatrice and Caleb are having. We finally arrived at the building and get in line behind the Abnegation doors. While we are waiting in line we hear a boy from Candor talking to a group of kids from Abnegation, although it doesn’t sound like a friendly one. I see the boy shove one of the kids from Abnegation and see Beatrice step forward slightly before Caleb stops her, “Beatrice...Don’t” She looks at me to see if I disagree with him, but I shake my head letting her know it would be a bad idea. 

The next thing we hear is a train approaching, signaling that Dauntless has arrived. They’re yelling and shouting while they jump off the moving train. It makes me wonder if that train ever stops. A few moments later the doors open and we were put into rooms. There were kids from all of the five factions, Candor, Dauntless, Abnegation, Amity, and Erudite. Luckily I was in the same room with Beatrice and Caleb, I definitely felt way more comfortable with them.

“One hundred years ago, after the war, our founders created a system they believed would prevent future conflict and create lasting peace. Today, aptitude testing based on your personality will assign you to one of the factions. While it is our belief that choosing the faction indicated by your test is the best way to ensure success within the faction system, it is your right tomorrow at the choosing ceremony to choose any of the five factions, regardless of your test results. However, once the choice has been made, there will be no change permitted.” The woman in front of the room said. 

We were then split into smaller groups to go into the testing rooms. Beatrice and Caleb went before me. When their group was done, I only saw Caleb walk back in and Beatrice was nowhere to be found. I was then called up to be tested. Once everyone in my group had gotten to the doors of their room they opened simultaneously. I walked in and  I noticed that my test was being administered by a woman from Dauntless. It was no surprise since we can’t be tested by someone from our own faction. 

“My name is Tori, have a seat.” She said sounding like she didn’t want to be here. I sit down in the metal chair. Although I’m wearing long clothing I still felt the coldness on my skin. It felt soothing to my bruised skin. 

“You'll be offered a series of choices to test your aptitude for each faction until you get one result. 95% get the faction of their origin,” Tori says, explaining how the test works as I sit quietly, trying not to look at myself in the mirror-like walls.  She hands me a small glass of blue liquid and gestures for me to drink it. I don’t hesitate to drink it,  wanting the test to be over as soon as possible. 

I close my eyes and when I open them I find myself in the same room except Tori isn’t there. I got up from the seat and looked around and found two pedestals. One with a knife. The other with a large piece of meat. 

“Choose” I hear my own voice say. I study both items but soon enough they both disappear and I hear a dog bark from my right side. I try to calm the dog, but I didn’t have any success. I then think that dogs can sense fear. I calmed my breathing and sat on the ground to get to the dog’s level. The next thing I know the aggressive dog becomes a puppy, I give him a little scratch behind the ear. 

I then hear a little girl point out the dog, but when I turn back the puppy had turned back into the aggressive dog it once was. The dog starts to chase the little girl. I run after them and get in between the little girl and the dog. When the dog had jumped onto me, I wake up suddenly from the simulation.

“Shit, not again” I hear Tori whisper. I look at her with a confused look. 

“What happened?” I ask her as she guides me to the door.

“Your test results were inconclusive. They were Dauntless, Abnegation, and Erudite. You can’t tell anyone. I manually entered Abnegation as your results” she explains to me in a hushed voice. 

“Wait what does that mean?” I question.

“You’re Divergent, you don’t fit in just one faction.” She says and then opens the door and pushes me out. 

For the rest of the day, I sat in silence, and not looking forward to going home. I walked with Caleb back to Abnegation since the serum had made Beatrice sick and she left early. I came home to my father sitting in the living room drinking a beer. 

“How did the test go?” He asks even though I knew he didn’t genuinely care.

“Fine,” I respond quickly. 

“Regardless of your results, you know what faction to choose if you know what’s best for you,” He says as he finishes his beer. 

“I know,” I say as I sit across from him knowing this conversation won’t end quickly. 

“You know, maybe I should take some precautions. In case you do leave,” Marcus says and he grabs my wrist and drags me to a chair in the dining room. He sits me down and tells me not to move unless I want more consequences. 

He rolls up my sleeves, high enough so no one else would notice the marks he leaves. As I look at a few of the previous scars he’s left, he breaks the beer bottle he had just finished against the table making me flinch at the noise of the glass breaking. He picks up a small sharp piece and digs it into my left arm. I let out a small yelp, which causes him to put his hand over my mouth and shove another piece of glass into my leg. He drags it down my leg, it rips my skirt, letting blood bleed into the fabric. I try to keep myself from being audible as my eyes start to tear up from trying to stay silent.

“This is for your brother leaving and for you if you leave too. If you tell anyone about this, just know what will be waiting the next time I see you.” He says menacingly, leaving me sitting teary-eyed with glass stuck in me.

I slowly take out the glass he left in my leg and arm. And clean it up as soon as possible. I head to bed, not caring that I’m still in my bloody clothes. I just can’t wait to leave, regardless of the repercussions. The next morning I was sore after my punishment from the night before making it hard for me to get up and walk. I hear a knock on my door and go to open it. 

“We’re leaving in 30 minutes. You better be ready by then. And get rid of those clothes,” Marcus says and walks away.

I change out of my bloody clothes and into a similar set of clothes. I hate the Abnegation dress code. I finish getting ready and wait in the living room for my father. We walk together with the Prior family to the Choosing Ceremony. Beatrice, Caleb, and I walk in silence while our parents talk a bit about their jobs and old family memories. I hate how my father acts all happy and makes us look like we’re a perfect family, it disgusts me how people buy it. 

We make it to the choosing ceremony and are sat down next to the Prior Family. A woman from Erudite, Jeannie Matthews, had the honor of the opening speech this year. After her speech, my father went up to call the names of the kids participating in the choosing ceremony. A few kids stayed in their home faction while others left, you could hear the upset parents in the crowd. 

Next up was Caleb, he chose Erudite. It was a complete surprise knowing that they have been trying to take control of the government and discredit Abnegation. Then it was Beatrice's turn, she was up there for some time, I could tell that she was struggling to choose what faction to pick. At the last moment, she let her blood drop over the hot coals, which signifies Dauntless. Roars erupted from their side of the room. 

A few more kids went up before I heard my father call my name. I slowly got up out of my seat and made my way to the stage. I saw the look in my father's eyes telling me to stay where I am or else. But I didn’t let that scare me. I picked up the knife and cut the palm of my hand, thinking about what happened the previous night. Before I could even process anything, I quickly put my hand over the burning coals and squeezed my hand to let my blood drop as fast as possible. “Dauntless” I hear my father’s voice boom through the auditorium and a few quiet gasps from the crowd. I knew I had made a bad choice for Abnegation, almost confirming for Erudite that Abnegation is not worthy of being the governing faction now that all four children of leaders had left. But I didn’t care, there was nothing good left for me in Abnegation except Beatrice and she had chosen to leave and join Dauntless as well, all I could think about was getting away from him.

I look slightly up and see the face of my father looking like he wants to murder me. I quickly pick up a pad and cover the cut on my hand and make my way to the Dauntless side as they cheered for another one of their newest members. They had opened a seat next to Beatrice for me. I sit down trying to feel relieved that my father can no longer hurt me but I can see him glaring at me from across the room. I was anxious for the ceremony to be over so I can never see his face again.

A/N: Here is the first part of DBU! There isn’t going to be a set schedule for this series, but I will try to update as often as possible. I already have the second part written and that will probably go up later this week. Also, the age for this series is 18, for choosing ceremony (just makes sense), and it will be based on the movies solely. I'm not sure how far i'll go into this series, but i will at least complete the first movie. Please lmk what you think and if you want to be added to the taglist! Thanks for reading!

#beatrice prior #caleb prior #abnegation #eric coulter imagine #dauntless #marcus eaton #divergentDBU

[thedramaclubs]

Changing lives (reprise)

Summery: Roman and Remus get the rest of the reviews and it was horrible that it closed their show. They soon meet one of their old friends and Remus’s husband meets them and soon they find something on Twitter to change their lives

Ships: Logicality, Prinxiety, demus/dukeceit

When their singing

Remus-green

Roman-red

Janus-orange

C!thomas-pink

All-purple

“The rest of the reviews are in! New York post, associated press, New York times” exclaimed Joan with ther phone in the air everyone started to get excited and looked on their phones as Roman and Remus are about to listen to how great their musical is........or so they thought.

Everyone’s faces changed to a sad and disappointed look and started leaving

“What? What’s happening?” said Roman as he watch everyone look at him and his brother in sadness.

“This is not a review anyone wants when you have shitty advance sales. This is gonna close us” said Joan

Roman gasp and Remus was shocked “What didn’t they like was it the hip hop?”

“Yeah but not that”

“For gods sake sakes Joan read it.” The twins sat down as Joan read the horrible reviews.

“Ok here’s the highlights, “Remus Allen’s FDR might just be the most insulting misguided, offensive, and laughable performance that this reviewer has ever had the squirming misfortune to endure. Emphasis on the insulting because he try to make him self look like that he was trying to give me intrusive thoughts about FDR.”

“That’s how I normally look what the hell?!?!”

“I mean it’s not so bad” said Roman as he played with his dress

“DO HIM ALREADY!!” “What I’m just saying.”

“Watching Romans Eleanor Roosevelt, corking out a heavy-handed message of activism, is like paying an aging drag queen to shove a syurp-soaked American flag down my throat. And also Eleanor should have been played by a women”

Roman was on the verge of tears “Thats not criticism that’s a personal attack.” His voice cracked and Remus hugged him as he shed a tear

“If your considering buying a ticket to the show do yourself a favor. By a few feet of good heavy rope instead and then go hang yourself”

“Holy fuck, oh god, poopy. Was the show that bad?”

“It’s not the show it’s you two. Your just not likeable.”

“What?” They said simultaneously

“Nobody likes a narcissist.” They sat in silence over what they just heard. “Leave it to me I’ll go and try to change the narrative once again” Joan then left the twins alone in the bullding

“I hate this world” “this just hurts my heart, Where did everybody go?”

They talked over each other as the walk to the bar to find a man in a pink suit. “What can I get ya?” said the man “Yola mezcal blackberry smash” said the twins at the same time. “My condolences Roman. But remember you do have friends” said the man making their drinks.”

“Thank you. Who are you?”

“Thomas Sanders.......we’ve done five shows together.”

“Ugh Thomas went to Juilliard and won’t shut up about.” Whispered Remus as he told Roman “Oh right Thomas. Thomas haha....... why are you dressed like waiter?” I’m in between gigs at the moment. Honestly Roman I feel adrift as i did in my days before Juilliard” Remus proceed to chug a drink that was on the table as Thomas continued to talk about Juilliard and the two were just over it.

“Still I have played hamlet and I’m still known as that guy from the beloved early aughts sitcom “Talk to the hand” I question everything about my existence” As he continues to rant about the past what they didn’t notice as a man in a golden sequiny dress with a black hat and a yellow ribbon tied on it with long golden brown hair walking their way

“Hey guys!”

Roman and Remus turned around to see Janus Allen, Remus’s husband

“Jannie!!!” Remus picked up Janus and spun him around and soon dipped him into a kiss which turn into a make out session. “Ahem I know you two lovebirds haven’t seen each other all day but can it wait we’re still here ya know.” They both looked at Roman and giggle a little from embarrassment “Sorry your show closed on opening night again. Welcome to the world of the unemployed,hit me up next.”

“I thought you were in Chicago?” asked Remus “I totally didn’t quit just now 20 years in the chorus and still wouldn’t let me play Roxie Hart and now their letting Tina Louise play her” “That bitch is still alive” said Remus as he chugs another drink

“We’re wasting our lives.” Said Roman as they are all slightly drunk “Ok I refuse to give up we’re still celebrities we still have power.” “Yeah well The Times casted you out” said Thomas as he poured another drink “Yep they wrote you off as aging narcissist and I’m only allowed to call Remus that.” “I still don’t understand what’s wrong with that.” Said Roman as he drinks even more. “You know what we will become celebrity arsonist.” “Babe it’s call celebrity activist we are not burning down another building like last time.” “Ok everyone think of causes.”

“Poverty”

“World hunger”

“Too big we need something we can handle”

“Let’s see whats trending” said Janus “Trump, trump, trump, ooo how about this boy he’s all over Twitter. His names Patton Heart. He’s from edgewater, Indiana. He’s gay. He wanted to take his boyfriend to the highschool prom and the pta went apeshit and canceled it.”

We are now in Edgewater, Indiana and Patton Heart is watching the head of the pta, Mrs Green being interviewed. “We have very strict rules for prom. Young ladies must wear non-revealing dresses. Young men must wear suits or tuxes. And if a student chooses to bring a date it must be of the opposite sex” “Can’t you just ban this student?” “Well we’ve been advised that there may be some legal repercussions if we prevent this boy from attending so although it breaks my heart we have no choice to cancel prom.” We move to Mr Virgil Hawkins the principal “The first thing I’m going to do is contact the state attourney this is not about school rules this is a civil right case.” “Wait seriously?” Said Patton. “Yes and if word gets out people will get mad and next thing you know some modern day Eleanor Roosevelt is gonna come and hell’s gonna break loose.”

We move back to New York “We got to go down their and raise holy hell” exclaimed Roman “We’ll be the biggest thing to happen to Indiana since........whatever’s happen in Indiana are you with me!?!” Said Remus as he and Roman start stand on top of a table they all cheered “We’ll get Joan to tag along to find us a venue” “I just book us a non-union tour of Godspell and I goes through Indiana we can ride on the bus.” Said Thomas “Can we do this guys” Said Janus “You bet your sweet MILF ass we can jannie”

🎶 We are gonna prove that in this day and age being gay isn’t a crime. This is out moment to change the world one homo 🎶

🎶Homo🎶

🎶Homo 🎶

🎶Homo🎶

🎶At a time🎶

🎶 we’re gonna help that little homo, whether he likes it or not, when your a legendary thespian 🎶

🎶First you help the distressed 🎶

🎶Then you help the distraught🎶

🎶We’re gonna go to where the necks are red and lack of dentistry thrives, Why sing and dance when you can take a stance🎶

🎶And know your truly changing lives. We’re gonna March until that town looks like the end of act one in les mis. You don’t gotta have a Ph.D in psych to know that people kowtow to the folks in the biz🎶

🎶We’re gonna teach’em to be more PC the minute or group arrives🎶

🎶That’s right🎶

🎶Those fist-pumping🎶

🎶Bible-thumping🎶

🎶Spam-eating🎶

🎶Cousin-humping🎶

🎶Cow-tipping🎶

🎶Shoulder-slumping🎶

🎶Tea-bagging🎶

🎶Jesus-jumping🎶

🎶Losers and their inbred wives. They’ll learn compassion🎶

🎶And better fashion🎶

🎶Once we at last start changing lives!!!!🎶

🎶Now let’s go help that dyke🎶

People to tag/ @artissijules

This took a long time to write

#sanders sides #logicality #thomas sanders #livy writes #janus sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #c!thomas #demus #dukeceit #sanders sides the prom au #ts joan #prinxiety

[lemondropsssss]

The first week back in Oxenfurt is mainly paperwork. Contract agreements with the University, submitting course-plans for review, submitting and re-submitting lesson plans, and rather unfortunately, a letter home. Claiming the title of Viscount at the gates has repercussions and likely word has already been sent to Lettenhove of his arrival. So he sends the least offensive missive he can to his father and hopes he doesn’t wake up one day to the wrong end of a sword and his father’s intense glare.

The letter he receives back isn’t what he’s expecting. 

Julian, 

I am glad to hear you’re well. I admit to worrying on occasion that you’d died along the road somewhere and I would never know. Mother and Father died of the sweating sickness five years ago now. She asked for you at the end, but we couldn’t find you to bring you home. I snuck in a bard to sing your songs, so she could hear of your adventures. She liked the one about the selkie the best.

Adina and Jessa are grown, and have both married. Their husbands are good men, I made sure of it. Adina is expecting her second child. They were both so young when you left, and Father didn’t allow us to speak of you. But when the twins cried out at night I would sneak into their nursery and tell them your stories so they’d know some part of you. 

The Viscountcy is yours to claim, though I predict some challenges in governing from Oxenfurt. I have been overseeing Lettenhove since Father’s passing, and admit that I enjoy the work. It’s nice to feel needed. And to give our people a proper liege lord, one who won’t just ignore their claims as Father did while increasing taxes to supplement his and Mother’s lifestyle. Our people are healing, and they need their lord at home with them. 

I have an arrangement that I suspect will suit both our needs. Claim the title of Viscount, and give your written word that I am your proxy here in Lettenhove. You may continue to teach, while I run the estate. You will have use of the Oxenfurt townhouse, and will receive a monthly stipend. Please consider this offer. I care deeply for our home and the people of Lettenhove, as I know you do. Please see that this is best for everyone.

I love you, Julek. 

Your sister, 

Marta

Jaskier reads the letter five times in total. His father is dead. And that’s- well he can’t say he exactly mourns for him. But his mother asked for him, and that knowledge breaks his heart. Where was he five years ago? Could he have seen her again? Held her hand as the light left her eyes? And the twins. Closing his eyes he can see them as toddlers. They were barely walking when he left, and now they’re married with children of their own. He remembers holding them both in his arms, fourteen-years-old, and feeling such love. The way they’d looked asleep in their cribs when he said goodbye. The way their baby soft hair had felt under his fingers. He can almost hear their laughter, and tears slip past his closed eyes. 

Marta. His dear Marta. Who he’d sneak sweets to under the dinner table. Who never hurt any creature, no matter how small or scaly or slimy. Marta with her big brown eyes and soft smile. Who would climb into his bed at night when she was afraid and he’d tell her stories until the monsters went away and she fell asleep in his arms. And oh, knowing that she’d done the same for the twins breaks his heart all over again. 

Jaskier sinks to the floor slowly, barely aware of his movements, letter clutched to his chest. And he cries. 

He cries for his mother, and the last breath of air she took. He cries for his little sisters, who had only stories to know him by. He cries for the birthdays he missed, and the skinned knees he couldn’t kiss better, and the way they must have looked on their wedding days. He cries for the nieces or nephews he doesn’t know, and for the one on the way. He cries for his father, and the things he never got to say to him. He cries for Marta, and the loneliness she must feel in that big old castle by herself. He cries for leaving her alone to watch their parents die. He cries for every moment he missed of his sisters' lives. Every moment he couldn’t protect them. Every moment he wasn’t there. 

And this isn’t like losing Geralt, but the pain hits him in the same spot. It drives like glass into his skin, into his center, until all he is is shattered. He is pieces of lives missed and letters unsent and things undone. 

He cries for the family he abandoned, and the man who abandoned him. 

.

The townhouse hasn’t seen much use since he was younger and his parents would take them to the city for summers. Jaskier doesn’t mind. The first thing he does is send most of the paintings and sculptures to Marta; they’re too ostentatious for him, and she can do what she likes with the remnants of their parent’s luxe style choices. He has a crew from the Giving Door come to the house and collect any furniture they want to go to their second-hand shop. Good riddance to it all.

He furnishes the house in more earthy and jewel tones. Plush sofas, soft beds, and the biggest tub he can reasonably fit in the bathroom. Jaskier makes the house everything it wasn’t before; soft, warm, inviting, happy. 

Jaskier hires a housekeeper named Beatrice who calls him hun and won’t answer to anything other than Auntie or Bea. Bea moves into the servant’s level with a very old, very small white dog Arthur who takes up residence on a pillow in the front window and hardly moves. He is absolutely smitten with them both.

When he comes back late from the University, Bea has a warm dinner waiting for him. If she’s gone to bed, she leaves out tea and a covered plate of meat cheese and bread for him. It’s being taken care of in a way Jaskier isn’t entirely used to, but not opposed to. 

In fact, he finds he quite likes the calm of routine. His students are eager to learn, and after the first two months hardly ask him about the White Wolf anymore. Jaskier’s grateful. It isn’t easy to explain to a room full of young people who admire you that the man you immortalized in song wished you gone for two decades before you noticed. Not that it’s easy to explain to anyone, really. 

And that’s how it goes for eighteen months. Jaskier teaches, he comes home, he sleeps, and he does it again. It’s nice to reconnect with his University peers, and Oxenfurt is a revolving door of old faces. Some though, are more well received than others. 

Jaskier is teaching when it happens. It’s his high poetry class, only five students. A knock at the door, and the pinched face of a University messenger pokes around the door.

“Professor Julian?” All the class is looking between them. “There was someone at the gate for you.” His stomach drops. “He wouldn’t wait, insisted I bring them to you.” Jaskier’s mouth is suddenly very dry. It takes two attempts to get his mouth moving. 

“Right, yes, thank you. Uh,” He looks back at his expectant class, “Right, you all... do something with a poem, class dismissed.” 

Jaskier knows exactly what’s waiting for him. Only one person would be so insistent to see him they’d terrify a messenger so.

Said messenger is very relieved when Jaskier appears on the other side of the door. He offers him a quick bow and bolts back down the corridor, leaving Jaskier alone with his guests.

.

@caspertheassholeghost @innocentcinnamonpun @queenofmymanyfandoms 

y’all asked to be tagged in part 2 so here ya go 

part 1 can be found here and here

#the witcher #the witcher netflix #the witcher fan #the witcherfanfic #witcher fic #my fic #geralt of rivia #geralt #jaskier #jaskier the bard #geraltxjaskier #geraskier #geraskier fanfic #currently pre slash #but we're getting there

[juniebjoneswrites]

Bring Me Home // Harry Styles

Are We Out Of The Woods? (5)

Next chapter is 90% Harry, strap in!

t/w: remembrance of assault 

/the past/

“This is in everyone's best interest. It will help Elijah and his family to have the best outcome for any of you to come forward with information of his whereabouts,” a detective tells the five of us, they think he’s a runaway. “We know you six were close so odds are at least one of you knows something.”

We’re all sitting around Sam’s room waiting for someone to talk. I know if I speak a single word my secrets will spill from me like a knife wound. I cannot afford the blood loss no matter how great and valid the retribution. I am scared. I pace the room with my hands in my pocket. How does the prey become the shark? Or how do you make the shark afraid? All I have on my hands are questions in blood and I can feel Eli sinking into me whispering more. I can’t shake his presence or chill. “I’m sorry,” I scream, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” But my mind is only ever as loud or violent as a echoed whisper.

I don’t know when they all decided to leave but my sister pulls me from the floor I’ve found my way to and out to her car. I still say nothing. She pins me against the passenger door. “What’s going on?” she whispers harshly. I whimper and shake my head. “You were acting like a fucking lobotomy patient in there, June,” she’s pleading. “What is going on?”

My strings are unraveling and I can’t hold on for long. I need a foothold but all I can find are fault lines. I want the earth to split open, the Devil himself to wrap his red, scalding fingers around my ankle and drag me down so I don’t have to live with this. I reach for the door handle and attempt to pull it open. Tears are coming down so heavily that if I don’t get into this car now she will have to put me in like a child. I glance at his house. The house that chose him and he quickly learned to choose back. I see the days there with our bikes in his yard that turned into days where our cars littered his driveway. I saw my childhood intertwined with his and the secret time capsule we buried in the backyard with our keepsakes. We still haven’t dug it up. I see my first kiss and my first crush. I see Josie knocking on his door and politely asking for me only to then drag me out for being late for curfew. I see secrets and promises and love. But I no longer see him.

I watched us grow and change in that house. We’re eight years after that winter day and I can still feel his hands on me. They’re different now, rough and calloused from his guitar. I feel him watching me with his eyes like the ground from our mother earth, he gave me life. I feel him around me even now, in the wind and sun. I feel him in my sisters hands, hard on my shoulders. I feel him in my chest threatening to break free and tell her everything. I am sobbing. “Quiet,” I beg him in my mind. “Quiet. Please, please.” The ground is cool and is the first thing I register. There are pebbles pushing into my skin and I can only be thankful that they’re only things threatening it now. The sound around me is high pitched and far away. I think I can hear my sister crying for me to respond but I can’t make my body move to her. “I’m trying,” I try to say. I don’t think I’m talking but there’s another voice that carries with hers. Before I can make it out everything goes black.

I wake up in my bed, I don’t know how long I’ve been asleep. My fathers snoring on a chair he brought in from the living room in the hazy evening sun. I roll over and my body feels like it took the impact of an asteroid. I try to sit up but a wave of dizziness washes over me so I lay back down. When I wake up again it's the middle of the night. I roll into the warmth next to me and find my sister's body; curling into her, she wraps her arm around me.

“Don’t do that to me again,” She whispers exhaustedly.

“I’m sorry. What happened?" “The doctors said it was from stress. You hit your head too,”

I feel my head where it hurts and it stings to the touch. I suck in a breath. Great. When I sleep again I’m being chased through the woods.

I’m running through throngs of people, and past places I’ve never been. Am I being chased? I can’t tell. But it feels like it and it feels like he's gaining. I run harder. My lungs have never felt like this. It’s like being sliced with razors and pebbles bouncing off the walls. It feels like lava disintegrating my insides. I keep running. House, house, house, house, apartments, apartments, corner store, laundromat, run down law office, pizza shop, apartments, apartments. I do not know these places. How long have I been running? I don’t know. The more my body aches to stop, the more I feel him behind me. I run harder. Runners? Wave. Have an alibi. Don’t go missing. Don’t go alone. Don’t go into the woods. Don’t go on any paths. Stay in sight. Stay alive. Run on near the coast. Find Eli.

I run like this for hours and at a certain point my mind goes blank. The only thing I feel is the heat inside. Almost tripping on an uneven sidewalk, I slow and walk over to the pier to look at the ocean. Where are you? I sit on a bench and try to steady my breath. The warm morning air buzzes as the pier comes to life. I close my eyes and listen to the sounds like a heartbeat, letting the warm sun lull me. I can almost find peace here. The pain in my body eliviates as I sink into the bench. I hear young children laughing, busy streets, the pier workers setting up their shops, people walking by on early morning business calls. Someone drops something, I imagine it’s coffee, or maybe tea. I hear them grumble. I almost want to offer to trade them their troubles. I’d like to be upset over spilled milk.

I hear seagulls cawing. Opening my eyes I watch them dip and dive in an intricate dance of fish breakfasts and stolen bagels. They are chaos in the making and I want nothing more than to see one succeed. They’re bullies, the ostriches of the skies. One lands on the arm rest opposite me and stares. “I have nothing,” I say, showing my hands. It squawks and flies away, getting lost in the mess of them. A child screams alone in front of a local bakery. I look over to find her parents and see no one. As I start towards the crosswalk for the girl a man and woman step from the bakery looking panicked. I freeze instantly. The mom gives the father her purchase and scoops the child up, thankful she didn’t get far. The man puts the food in the stroller and scans the street to cross. His gaze is on me for what feels like an eternity but I’m sure it was only a fraction of a second. If he recognizes me as they pass, he shows no sign of it, nor does his wife.

A slamming car door brings me back to and I cross the road to get as far away as I can. A runner waves on the opposite side when I make it across. I stare at him for recognition but he’s wearing glasses and a cap and the distance makes it hard, but I smile and wave back. He seems friendly enough and if that man did recognize me, I would need a witness for my timeline. I run back home.

I don’t even make it through my door before my mom flings it open and pulls me into her. “Where have you been?” She’s worried. Her hair’s thrown up out of her face, sleeves rolled as if she’s going to throw hands with my captor for my safety.

“I went for a run,” “No one knew where you were,” she pulls back. “You were just gone,”

“Mom you’re the one who told me to run,” I say back in an almost laugh.

“Yes but not before the sun is even up! Do you know what time it is?” I do not know. “Just leave a note next time or take your phone with you for Christ’s sake.” I apologize and she forgives the way moms do and offers to make some breakfast while I shower.

I turn the water as hot as I can stand and then make it hotter. I wanted to burn his eyes off of me. He must not have recognized me. I think back to remember if he ever saw my face. I massage the shampoo through my hair and feel Elijah's hands running through it. The memory quickly shifts; that man is wrapping it around his hand and shoving my face into mud and leaves. I quickly rinse and open my eyes. My scalp is still sore from his assault and my fall but the long hair he had held is now gone, cut to the chin.

I did it two days after coming home in the dead of night. Quietly, washed the crusted dirt and leaves from my body and clothes as a bruise formed over my cheek where it hit a rock after I fell. Thank goodness for the power of makeup for my ability to hide my wounds. But I couldn’t hide my shaking and panic though so I faked a stomach bug and stayed in bed for three days.

Every time I try to go to the police I can hear his voice, “I will gut you,” he pushes my face into the ground. “I will kill your family,” there’s pressure against my back. The gun cocks, “No one will believe you,” and they won't. Because cops don’t kill people. He will have no repercussions. I’m crying and trying to crawl away but he just laughs and then everything goes dark. I can’t know if he saw my face after that but the forest was dark and the moon was dim. I couldn’t even see my hands in front of me so I feel secure that if he tried to know me, the earth he pressed me into would’ve at least hidden me well enough. I still feel it swirling in my mouth like a shaken snow globe of blood and dirt.

Downstairs my mom has made blueberry pancakes and I smell banana muffins in the oven. My sister sits reading at the end of the table in her favorite pink nightshirt with an old, faded Garfield on it. Classic rock buzzes softly through my ears as my mom hums along. The sun still shines through the windows in a late, hazy morning glow. I can smell the flowers on the sill outside as the bees bobble and bounce around them. My feet are cool on the wooden floor and not far from them our tabby cat lazily lays in the sun's rays, tail flicking happily. My chest rises and falls with this safety and I control my emotions enough to hug my mom from behind as she flips the eggs. She laughs lightly and I can hear her smiling. She rubs her hand over my arms and turns within my grasp to kiss my head. “I am so thankful for you,” She whispers. My breath hitches and I bury my face deeper into her. When I feel the mud threatening me I will remember this and it will bring me home, wherever I may be.

(1) / (2) / (3) / (4) / 5 / (6)

#harry styles #harry 1d #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #fanfic #1directionfanfic #one direction fanfic #fanfiction #one direction #liam payne #zayn mailk #louis tomlinson #niall horan #sweetcreature #fineline

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Love, Maybe? {26}

Chris Evans X Reader OFC Vixen Giovanni

Warning: Cursing, Plot, Slow, Smoldering, Torturous Burn 😊

Word Count: 5K

Summary: After a night of drunkenness you wake up next to warm, hot as hell body, a migraine and no memory of the night before. When you come to realize that the hot body belongs to none other than Hollywood’s golden boy Chris Evans you freak out. As events unfold you become even more panicked to find out you got married in your drunken haze. What else is there to do but get it annulled, right? Before walking away, you share one more night of molten kisses and passion. Three years later you are still living with the repercussions of your brash decisions, but the surprises don’t stop there. The past has a way of coming back and have you questioning is this fate that you’ve been running from, hell could it have been love, maybe?

Note: Italic texts is an inner Vixen thought. Bold Italic texts is an inner Chris thought.

**Slightly Edited/Proofread**

***Interactive**

Thank you guys for reading!!!! If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG. 😊 ❤️  ❤️ ❤️

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

Chapter 26: Admittance Is The First Step

-Vixen-

  “What! She calls him da-da now?”

  You snorted at Nex as you continued going through the checklist and catalogs you were flipping through.

   “Vix, she said I see da-da and doder tomorrow. My jaw dropped, and I almost said the most disgusting curse word.”

   “Which one?”

   “Motherfucker.” You laughed loud, unable to keep it in any longer.

   “It’s not funny, Vix. I literally said mother lover what now.” You laughed louder; this was classic Nexus. When Ella came around she had the hardest time curbing that outspokenness, then when Ella started repeating she had to control it quick. She still had slip-ups though, and when she did they were hilarious.

“Then mom heard, and she got on my ass. God, how long is she staying?” Pinching your lips, you shrugged.

 It had been almost a week since your parents had been in town, and each day they looked like they got more and more comfortable. Ella loved them being there and them being there afforded you to work a little more while letting Nex have her freedom. Freedom she seemed to love, she was barely at home anymore, and you knew without a doubt she was with Anthony. Ever since his declaration the two of them were closer than ever, and you were over the moon for her. You also found it fascinating. Two people just met, hit it off, disagreed, fixed it, got their shit together and became a couple in less time than it took to grow out a perm. It said volumes about you, and you were desperately trying to turn it down.

   “God only knows. It can’t be soon enough because these dinners at Chris’ need to stop.” You whined out while flipping through the catalog. You were trying to make firm decisions on the décor of the restaurant. Tomorrow was the last day to submit everything so there would be no possible chance of a fuck up.

  “What’s wrong with dinners at Chris’? Isn’t he a multi-millionaire with a house worth millions that has like ten bedrooms and twelve bathrooms and an Olympic sized pool?” You rolled your eyes at Nexus.

   “That’s a bit excessive. It’s a modest five beds and eight baths, with an envious sized pool, an amazing kitchen, modernly and traditionally decorated and completely fitting for a bachelor.”

   “So, what’s the problem?”

  Realizing you weren’t going to get anything completed, you slammed the catalog shut to reveal a separate one. One that had party planning resources, you were also in the midst of planning Ella’s second birthday party. You had too much on your plate. Rubbing your forehead, you proceeded to tell her about the last three dinners at Chris’ house. You told her about the memories, how it was being smacked in the face by being in the same place Ella was made.

  Of course, Nexus laughed her ass off, which you expected she took joy in your pain and frustrations. After she thoroughly indulged in her laugh, she was empathetic. She listened to all your frustrations until you’d relieved yourself of everything that had been weighing you down since seeing him that fateful day outside his set. Once you were finished you felt a lot better—calmer.

   “Wow. That’s a lot, Vix.”

   “Tell me about it.” You took your coffee and took another mouthful of the semi-hot liquid. This was your fourth cup, and they all had an extra turbo shot. Nex took your cup and tossed it in the garbage can.

   “I think this is part of the problem of why you’re so wound up. No more coffee for the day.”

   “I’m so tired; I don’t sleep. I toss and turn all night and have wet dreams Nex; I need that coffee!” She looked at you as if you were some crack addict. You took a deep breath and slowly let it out.

   “Girl, you need more than a breath. The other part of the problem is you really, really, really wanna ride your baby daddy raw.”

   “Nex!” She laughed again, gripping her belly. Rolling your eyes, you got up and walked around the space of your restaurant and pretended to busy yourself with assessing the area.

   “Okay, okay, okay, I’m sorry. Eh-em, I’m done messing with you.  I know it’s not easy suppressing your sexual urges for someone you have imagined doing every dirty, filthy imaginable sex act to.” She had a faraway look on her face, and you knew she was talking about her and Anthony. Your face curved up in disgust.

  “Ew! I’m gonna be sick. Don’t confuse you and me now.” Nexus gave you that “bullshit” face, and you kissed your teeth turning your back to her.

   “The first step is admittance, Vix. You know this. You have to say the words.”

   Shaking your head, you walked away to another side of the restaurant. Nex was not having it with your avoidance, and she followed then stood beside you. “It’s the hardest part I know, but once you say the words out loud it’ll be easier. Everything will be put into perspective. Come on.”

   You sighed, then groaned loudly. “What do you expect me to say?”

   “The truth. This won’t work if it’s a lie. These are your steps Vix, come on.”

  She was right. These were your steps. You came up with them as a way to help her and some of your friends when they were struggling with men, work, life, you name it, and it usually worked. Be that as it may, you were in no rush to be the one to use them. When you glanced at Nex, she gave you and impatient look. You knew you wouldn’t get any work done; your head simply wasn’t in it today. You walked away from her and back to your seat.

   “I wish this were Miami. I should have never come back to LA.” You dropped into your chair, crossed your arms, and pouted like a child.

   “Oh come on, it’s not all that bad. If this were Miami, Ella wouldn’t have met Chris, a man who genuinely seems like he wants to be a good dad to her. Now she has yet another person in the circle of those who love her and would kill for her.”  You groaned and rolled your eyes as your hands dropped. She was right. Chris was head over heels in love with Ella, it was obvious, and she was quickly getting equally attached.

  “See, your daughter is happy.”

   “But I’m miserable, Nex,” you whined.

   “Say the words.” She sat there patiently and waited. After clenching your jaw for a few moments, you let out a defeated sigh.

   “I’m still attracted to him.” Nex didn’t look pleased. She tilted her head as if to say go on.

   “You gotta be kidding me, Nex.”

  She crossed her arms and added the look your mother had perfected. You couldn’t help but laugh. “Please don’t give me that look. You look just like her.”

  “I know it’s uncanny isn’t it.” Nex laughed with you but quickly stopped and pasted the look right back on her face. You groaned and shook out your body as if to get rid of the feelings.

   “I may, kind of, maybe, sort of want to—have—a little bit of sex with Chris.”  You rushed out toward the end. Nexus laughed again then slapped your knee.

   “Shut up. What the hell is a little bit of sex? It’s either full-on rough, dirty, wash your mouth out with soap sex or tame, boring doggy style sex.”

   “Wait, since when was doggy style tame and boring?”

   Nexus laughed again. You were only partly serious, but the fact that she was laughing spoke volumes. Her and Anthony got down. “Maybe I just want the tip.” You both busted out laughing again. There was no way you could take any of this serious, but the laughing did help.

   “I’m sure the last time started with just the tip to, then there was Ella.” You rolled your eyes. It had never started with just the tip. It was all or nothing. You groaned, remembering the sinful acts you did to one another, not one time but several times over a few days.

   “Finish it!”

   “Fine, I want to have the filthiest sex imaginable with him. I’m talking against the wall, on the balcony railing over LA, the sex that leaves you parched because your throat is coated with him, aching in every crevice and opening, bruised in places you never knew you could get bruised and unsure where your panties are; in the house, the car or left in the bathroom of some restaurant you had to fuck in. I want to fuck my kid’s father on serious level!” Once you shouted the words out, your eyes were wide as a full moon, and you didn’t feel any better. Nexus looked shocked.

   “Wait, your throat is coated? Eww, Vix, that’s just nasty.” You laughed loud again and dropped back into the chair.

   “See, better right?”

   “No. It is not better, Nexus. How in the world do I reconcile these--.”

   “Feelings?”

   “Urges. They are urges, not feelings,” you corrected. Nex rolled her eyes.

  “There is one way to reconcile them.” You stared at her waiting for her to continue. “Just do it!”

   She was the devil on your shoulder, the actual little fuck that told you to just indulge every whim and desire. She rarely ever played the voice of reason. All her advice centered around just doing whatever it was you were stressed about. Nexus’ motto was life is short, and since it’s short, I’m gonna do what I want for a long time. Yours, on the other hand, was life is short, and because it’s short let’s play it safe and prolong it for a long time. Similar but so very different.

   “You want to fuck him. He wants to fuck you. So just fuck. After you fuck you can figure the rest out. This sexual tension is way too intense. I don’t know how you’re getting any work done.

   “I’m barely getting work done.”

   “So you know he wants to fuck you,” Nexus accused.

   “Duh Nex. I know that.”

   “So put him out his misery, hell put yourself out your misery.”

   “There is a huge difference between wanting me and wanting me.” She took a deep breath, then sighed. She knew you were right.

  “He doesn’t want me. I know what it’s like for him to want to fuck me, been there, done that. We made a beautiful baby because of our want to fuck each other. I know how that ends.”

   You sat there quietly for several long moments. “You want him to want more than sex from you. You want him to like you, love you. Oh my god, Vix, you want to be with him, be with him.” You avoided her eyes as she spoke all the words you’d buried as deep as possible.  Before you knew it, tears were streaming down your cheeks. Nex came over to you and wrapped you in her arms. She didn't speak, and you were glad of it. You had no idea what else to say. Hearing the words out loud made you feel like such an idiot—a pathetic idiot.

   “Vix, tell him how you feel.” You snorted and dried your tears.

   “No, are you kidding. There is Ella now. We can’t just—we can’t do anything that’ll jeopardize her relationship with him. That would be so messy and unfair to her. I’ve already done so many things that are wrong. I don’t want to add to the list. Ella has to come first. ” Nex nodded. “Plus, there are no feelings remember. They’re urges.” Nex shook her head.

   “Hello!” You and Nex spun around to see your parents walking around with Ella in tow. You quickly dried any evidence of your breakdown, allowing Nex to be the one to greet them.

   “Mom, Dad, what are you doing here?”

   “Can’t we come down to see the progress? Are we barred?” Your mother’s exaggeration knew no bounds. You joined them and took Ella into your arms.

   “You are welcome, mom. Look around, tell me what you think.” Your father approached you and kissed your forehead, then joined your mother as they looked around.

   You gave them the tour of what would be where and how everything would look once set up, and as you walked around, you noted the look of pride on their faces. It felt good.

  “This is impressive, Vixen; I can’t wait for opening night,” your mother complimented. You looked at Nexus, who looked equally as impressed.

   “Thanks, mom.” She approached you and hugged you.

   “I know I’m hard on you, but it’s for a good reason. I just worry about you. Life is hard, and going through it alone makes it even harder. I just want you to have someone to share your successes with, share your fears, your pain. It’s not that I don’t think you’re capable of taking care of yourself. You’ve proven you can more than take care of yourself. I just want you to feel all of life’s true pleasures. Love is a major one.” She tapped your cheek, and you nodded.

   “I know mom.”

   “That’s what I like to see, my girls all getting along,” your dad chimed in. “Come on, group hug.”

  He closed in with his arms held out, encompassing you, your mother, and Nexus with Ella smushed in the middle.

   “Gwoop uug, yayyy!” Everyone laughed together; it was a sweet moment.

   “Hello? Vixen?” Everyone broke apart and looked in the direction of the voice. You knew who it belonged to, and panic began to bubble within you.

   “The door’s open. It’s me, Chris.”

“Da-da!” Ella pushed through all of your legs and took off toward where his voice was coming from.

  “Da-da?” Your mother and father looked confused.

   “Da-da!” As Chris rounded the corner, Ella crashed into his legs.”

   “Uuuffh.” He looked down with a broad smile on his face, then he bent and lifted her with one arm. “Hi there princess. How are you?” Ella nodded as she held on around his neck.

   “Where doder?”

  Chris laughed at her pronunciation of Dodger’s name. “Uh, he is not with me right now. I promise though, you’ll see him soon.”

   “Otay.” For the first time, Chris looked up and into all your faces. Yours was a horrified one; Nexus was one that said “yikes,” and your parents were between confusion and caution.

   “Uh—hi,” Chris began. “Am I interrupting? I hope I’m not. I was in the neighborhood and thought to drop by and bring you some food because I knew you were probably in one of your workaholic comas.” His words slowed down toward the end. He looked at all four of you and then to Ella.

   “Paw-Paw, Maw-Maw wook, da-da. Tay hi.” You closed your eyes and braced for the category ten hurricane that was about to rip through the room.

   “Vixen Star Giovanni, what in the hell is going on here? Why is Captain America here talking as if he knows you? More importantly, why is Ella calling him da-da?” You opened your eyes and saw Chris who looked as if he understood. You could see the remorse in his face. He knew he’d just outed you.

  “Vixen, answer your mother!” You took a deep breath and tried to swallow past the lump in your throat. There was nothing else to do now than just tell them the truth.

   “Um, mom, dad. Well--.” You’d gone over how to break it to them in several ways. You thought about coming right out with it, or slowly easing into it, or even alluding to it, but now half the band aid was already off. You decided to rip the remainder off to put everyone out of their misery.

   “Captain America is here because I know him. Damn it, I mean Chris is here; this is Chris, and I know him. He is Ella’s fa—ther.” Your parents looked at each other and then back to you.

   “You said you didn’t know who the father was,” your mother blurted out.

   “I didn’t say that. I simply just—alluded to it. you assumed, and I—let you.”

   “You lied to us, pumpernickel.” You cringed, he had to use your childhood nickname, it was like adding salt to the wound.

   “Um, well—I wouldn’t say it was a--.” You looked at their faces and saw they’d had it with your half-truths and alluding. You nodded.

   “I did. I’m sorry.”

   The silence in the room was palpable. “And where were you this whole time, young man? Do you have any idea how much you’ve missed? How could you abandon my daughter like that?”

   Your father stepped to Chris prepared to defend your honor. You rushed between them. “Dad, stop, please. He didn’t know.”

   “What do you mean he didn’t know?” You took one final breath to gain some courage.

   “He didn’t know. I never told him. he just found out a little while ago.” Your father’s eyes fell to yours, and you could see the disappointment, and it crushed you.

   “So you mean to tell me, you go to Vegas with your sister and get pregnant, then hide and lie about it for years?” Your mother's summary was sufficient. It really got down to the nitty-gritty of the situation. You nodded.

   “So you have a child with Captain America no less.”

  “His name is Chris, mom.”

   “Vixen, why didn’t you come to me. You tell me everything. I would have understood.”

   “Dad, I didn’t even understand. I—I was ashamed, I was hurt. I—it was easier to just push it away and pretend like it never happened, and I guess I did too good a job of it,” you candidly explained.

   “Did he hurt you? Did you hurt her?” You put your hand on your father’s chest to keep him back.

   “Dad, it doesn’t matter anymore. He is Ella’s father. I’m sorry I lied, I’m sorry you found out this way. I have been trying to tell you since you got here. It’s kind of harder to disappoint my parents than I thought.”

   Your father hugged you, and you did your best to hold tight to your emotions. “We’re not disappointed. You could never disappoint us.” Your mother approached your side and touched your shoulder.

   “Don’t be dramatic, Vixen. We’re shocked, that’s all. Shocked, but we still love you the same.”

   You dabbed at your eyes. “I mean he’s Captain America, much better than what we imagined. We imagined some struggling DJ by night and bartender by day. You did good.” You snorted, her timing was impeccable as always.

   “No cwy mama.” You sniffled and wiped your tears and turned to Ella with a wide smile on your face.

   “Mama’s not crying, see.” She reached for you, and you walked over to take her. From the peak you took, Chris looked not only frozen but in pain. Your father approached him again and held out his hand.

   “Carmine Giovanni.” Chris nodded and quickly took your father’s hand shaking it.

   “Chris Evans, sir.”

   “Nice to officially meet you. I’m sorry about before.”

   “No worries, sir, it’s understandable.” They nodded, and your mother approached.

   “My wife, Soleen.” Chris took her hand and shook it as well.

   “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

   “So well mannered. It’s nice to meet you as well. I sure hope you brought enough for all of us,” she joked.

   “I don’t think so, but it’s nothing a delivery order can’t fix.”

   “Good, join us then.” Your mother looped her arm through Chris’ and led him further in to the only table in the place. You looked at Nexus, who widened her eyes at you as she approached.

 “That wasn't that bad.” You rolled your eyes and followed them.

For the next fifteen minutes, the five of you; six, including Ella, sat through inquiries about Chris’ career. Their questions weren’t too bad, but you could imagine Chris felt awkward. Still, he answered anything they asked without so much as a hint in his voice to any agitation. When the food arrived you were thankful because you thought it would keep everyone's' mouths too busy for talking. You were proved wrong ten minutes into eating.

   “So, Chris seems things took a pretty quick and dramatic turn for you in the last few months,” your father tested.

   “Yes, sir, they did. I was not expecting any of this.”

   “Oh, so you wish you’d never found out, so things could have remained how they were for you?”

   Chris looked cautious as he studied your father. “Uh no, sir. That’s not what I meant. I’m glad I found out, glad that I know.”

   “Why? Are you planning on fighting my daughter for custody?”

   Everyone’s actions fell silent, and Chris looked at you. You avoided his eyes. “No, sir, I have no intention of fighting Vixen for custody. I don’t see a reason to do that. She’s—your daughter is a great mother to Ella, I’ve seen it, and I don’t want to change anything or upset any balance.”

   “So, what do you want?”

  “To be involved. I want to get to know her, her to get to know me, my family. I just want to be in her life.” The two men studied each other. You could feel the tension, and you wanted to step in, but you didn’t know what to say.

   “Carmine, reign in your testosterone, please. Chris, he means well. God blessed us with daughters, and because of it he is their pitbull, Ella’s included.

   “I understand, ma’am, and I get it. I wouldn’t expect anything less. You love them. I understand it a lot better today than I did six months ago. You’d do anything to protect them, same with me. I’d do anything to protect them.”

   Your heart lurched.

   “Did he mean me too?”

You looked over to Nex, who looked as if she also heard what he said. She was looking at you probably wondering the same thing

   “As long as we understand each other. Welcome to the family.” Chris smiled and nodded then looked to you. Your eyes met for a few moments before Ella drew your attention to her.

   Another uncomfortable hour passed, then your parents left with Ella in tow and Nexus trailing behind them. Her excuse was she had things to do, but you knew she was lying. As you closed the door behind them and locked it to make sure no more uninvited visitors came by you turned and walked back inside the restaurant to see Chris still sitting there. He was watching you with an intense contemplative look etched on his face. It was as if he were looking right through you. Clearing your throat, you stood behind one of the chairs.

   “Are you okay?” He didn’t answer; he just kept looking right through you. “Look, I’m sorry about my dad; he is super protective of Nex and me. I didn’t mean for him to--.” You trailed off realizing he still had yet to acknowledge anything you’d said.

   “Okay, then. Are you angry?” You saw the clench in his jaw, and your nerves rose.

   “Chris?” You nodded, taking that as your answer. “Okay, I get it. You have every right to be angry.” You turned away from him and walked to where you had the binders.

   “I’m sorry, I’m not angry. I was—lost in my own thoughts,” Chris said as he approached you.

   You studied his face unsure if he were telling the truth or not. He looked genuine, but the fact was you still didn’t know very much about him, certainly enough to know whether or not he was being truthful.

   “Okay.” You looked back to the binder that held the party planning details.

   “What’s all that?”

   “Ella’s second birthday party planning is in full effect. I didn’t plan on being in LA for it but either way she still deserves a party.”

   “Let me help. You look swamped. I’d be happy to take something off your plate.” That sounded nice; you couldn’t lie.

   “What are you good at?”

   Caught off guard, Chris stammered, then scoffed and smiled. “Um, well—wow never really been asked that before. I guess—talking.” You laughed loudly and pinched your lips.

   “You’ve literally been talking your entire life,” you joked. He nodded in agreement.

   “You’re right, I have. Guess that’s why I can’t seem to shut up.” You smiled again. “Except around you, you take all my words, leaving me speechless.” Caught off guard by that candid admission, you just stared at him.

   “That’s not true.” It came out as a whisper; you were breathless.

   “Embarrassingly enough, it is, painfully true. I don’t know there is just something about you that makes me think and think and overthink what I’m going to say or want to say or should and shouldn’t say.”

   “Why not just say it all?” He smiled and nodded as if he hadn’t thought of it.

   “Do you always say it all?” You stifled a laugh and pinched your lips together.

   “In business, yes. I am very vocal there, some would say bossy, but I say vocal.” Chris laughed.

   “What about other than business? Personal, maybe?” You sucked your bottom lip into your mouth and held it there, thinking about his question. Most of you said open up, see where it took you, so you did.

   “Not so much.” Chris nodded but kept his eyes on you. You didn’t break the eye contact.

   “I’m sorry for outing you.” You snorted.

   “It’s okay. I should have told them days ago.”

   “They took it well. Your mom isn’t so bad.”

   “What do you mean?”

   “In Vegas, you said she was always on your case about settling down that she always made you feel like you were incapable of taking care of yourself or you had no worth unless you had a man beside you.” Your jaw dropped.

   “I said that? All of that?” Chris nodded. You couldn’t believe you told him all that, let alone that he remembered.

   “I’m an actor. I have a great memory.” Your curiosity piqued, and you wondered if he remembered everything he said. Quickly he looked away from your eyes and back to the binder.

   “When I told my family about Ella, they asked when they could meet her. I didn’t give any precise dates, but maybe it works our great with her party.”

   “I’m not following.”

   “How would you feel about having her party in my hometown. That way, we can get out of LA, keep it under the radar, my family can meet you, and her and our families can interact.”

   Panic set in, and you hoped your face didn’t show it. “Like one big happy family, huh.”

   “I mean, that’s what we kinda are, right?” You didn’t know why you felt so scared, but the fear was all-encompassing.  “If that’s too much or not cool say the word. It was just a thought.”

   “I just—I don’t think it’s such a good idea that they meet me.” Chris looked confused.

   “What? Why? Of course, it’s a good idea. They have to meet my--.” He stopped himself in his tracks.

   “Your what? Ex-wife, and baby’s mama who lied to you for three years and kept your daughter from you? How is that a good idea? They’re going to hate me.”

   Chris’ hand shot out to take yours. “Stop it. They will not hate you.” You rolled your eyes and tried to take your hand back.

   “Yes, they will, and you know it.” Chris held firmly to your hand.

   “No, they won’t. I won’t let them hate you. How can they hate you when I don’t hate you. I’m past it, I’ve forgiven you.” You looked shocked.

   “What?”

   “Why do you look so surprised? Yes, I’ve forgiven you, Vixen. I understand I am not resentful about it. I’ve had a lot of time to think and reason with myself and see things clearly. I don’t hate you, and they won’t hate you. Once they see what an amazing mother and person you are they’ll love you just as much as I--.” He looked down and cleared his throat. “As much as I’m sure your family loves you.” For a moment, your heart flew into your throat, but you didn’t know if what you felt now was disappointment or relief. You looked to his hand that engulfed yours and breathed out.

   “Can I think about it?”

   “Absolutely.” Chris pulled his hand back from yours reluctantly, but his fingertips lingered with yours. You didn’t move, the static electric shock you felt though it made the butterflies in your belly take flight; it also felt strangely comforting—right even.

The next several minutes passed with no words or movement. It may have been strange just to sit there touching your baby daddy’s fingertips and staring into his ocean-deep eyes, but to you it felt easy like Sunday mornings. When you felt you couldn’t do it any longer you pulled your hand back and broke the long gaze. You began packing up and soon walked to the door with Chris following behind you.

   “In order to not jinx ourselves, I think you’ll be safer if I say goodnight here,” Chris said. “I want to walk you to your car, but--.”

   You smiled and nodded and touched his hand unintentionally. Your eyes met again. “It’s okay. I know your mom raised a gentleman. It’s fine; you’re just a danger to my privacy.” He smiled and nodded but didn’t look as if he liked that fact.

   “Call me if you need anything.” You nodded, and he walked out first. You took a deep breath and tried to slow your pounding heart. You had to find a way to get these feelings under control, or you would end up doing something stupid—yet again.

~~~~~~~~~~~

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#love maybe fic #Chris Evans #chris evans fanfiction #Chris Evans X black reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x reader #chris evans smut #angst fanfic #slow burn fanfic

[bow-woahh]

Catradora, 15 💖

You have their attention (and I want yours)

Summary: It’s all made worse when Catra does look in her direction, searching for none other than Adora’s eyes. She sees her sitting there, seething, and all she does is raise an eyebrow, then after a moment, grin. She can tell. And that only makes Adora more agitated as Catra turns back to the crowd and that girl is practically hanging off her arm. Now, Adora really is contemplating going up there, kissing the smirk of Catra’s face where everyone can see.

read on Ao3 or below

types of kisses prompts 

It’s an odd feeling, not being the center of attention for once. Although that sounds conceited, it’s merely a fact, one Adora can’t get away from as she watches what is essentially a small crowd around Catra listening intently to what she has to say, laughing along when she tells a joke, or just says something in that dry sarcastic voice of hers. Usually, that is her, although it was never something she actively enjoyed—or at least not at the start. She grew to like it more. Only before growing to hate it again. It continued in a cycle like that for ages. Right now, she doesn’t thirst for the attention to be on her, and is rather happy nursing her drink, having an idle conversation with Bow before he goes back to Glimmer, or her other friends that pass by, then going back to watch Catra from the sidelines. Because Catra deserves it. She’s worked so hard to get where she is now, and Adora can't be more elated for her. The upcoming series is essentially her show where she gets to shine, and although it should’ve happened a long time ago, Adora is happy to see it happening now. 

Adora is happy to see it happening, until she isn’t. She hardly takes note of it at first, how one girl from the crew she vaguely recognises weasels her way past everyone, placing herself next to Catra. But after a while, she seems to shuffle closer, and closer until her and Catra are almost pressed up next to each other. She leans over, whispers something in Catra’s ear, giggling and Adora bites the inside of her cheek, hard. She orders another drink, then continues to watch closely.

That's the other thing about the attention. With it always comes a certain type of person, their intentions always foggy, but their want for you—for whatever reason—painstakingly clear. Adora’s had to learn over the years how to see through those people and what they really want, or better yet, to trust no one except the ones close. But Catra isn’t stupid, and she probably realises what this girl's doing. Still, it doesn’t make it any more bearable watching her slobber all over her. Adora glares, wishing the woman would turn to face her, and throws the rest of her drink back. She’s drunk enough that she could walk right up there, wrap an arm around Catra’s waist right in front of all of them, and wipe the look right off that girl's face.

Would it cause a scene? Probably, but Adora isn't opposed to it. For now though, she stays seated, watching from afar.

It’s all made worse when Catra finally looks in her direction, searching for none other than Adora’s eyes. She sees her sitting there, seething, and all she does is raise an eyebrow, then after a moment, grin. She can tell. And that only makes Adora more agitated as Catra turns back to the crowd and that girl is practically hanging off her arm. Now, Adora is seriously contemplating going up there, kissing the smirk off Catra’s face where everyone can see.

But as much as she wants to, she can’t. Not without some serious repercussions. They’ve had to keep their relationship under wraps throughout filming and up until the show's release. It hasn’t really been a problem for either of them, seeing as they live in a shared apartment close to set and have had to keep it a secret long before then. In a way, Adora quite likes it, having her relationship between Catra be something for them and them only, instead of the press being all over it like they constantly are with their friends like Mermista and Seahawk. Although there has been lots of speculation from press and fans alike, they have no real evidence, so as long as they continue to deny it, it’s fine. Their relationship is a pretty open secret for those around them, as they made no real effort to hide it on set for the most part, so the majority knew about it, on some level. Though clearly not everyone. Soon enough, they won't have to anyway. Adora wants the day to come quicker. One thing they both hate about it though (Catra especially), was how they can't hold hands or give the other a simple kiss on the cheek when they want to without the fear of paparazzi snapping a picture. It was beyond frustrating at times. They always make up for it in the comfort of their apartment however.

Something Catra is definitely going to have to do when they get home.

Adora continues to glare as the girl obnoxiously giggles and squeezes Catra’s bicep. She has to count to ten in her head before she does something she regrets, and it takes everything in her not to get up right then and there. Rationally speaking, she knows she shouldn’t be reacting this way. She knows Catra would never betray her trust like that, and that really, she just likes seeing Adora squirm. She knows that Catra is probably holding back a grimace every time this girl touches her, that as smooth as she acts, she likes this as little as Adora does. Which is what makes it worse because it reminds Adora of what a good girlfriend she is and now she wants her hands on her more than anything.

Soon, the party starts dwindling down, and Bow comes by to cut Adora off once she’s on her fourth (maybe fifth?) drink. The crowd around Catra has finally dispersed and she slinks over to Adora’s side, groping her ass quick enough that no one notices. Adora does however, and yelps.

“Catra!” she says, vowels drawn out.

She smiles, then says. “Hey princess, you doing alright?”

Then Adora remembers how she’s supposed to be annoyed at Catra for the games she’s been playing tonight. “No, no I’m not.” She crosses her arms and pouts like a child.

“I think she’s had a little too much to drink,” says Bow.

“Have not!” Adora argues back.

Catra nods, turning to only Bow and ignoring Adora for a moment. It makes Adora want to cling onto her and never let go. “Yeah, I can tell,” she snorts. “I’ll call the driver, thanks Bow.”

“No problem, now I gotta find Glimmer and cut her off too,” he says with a sigh.

Chuckling, Catra says, “Good luck with that.”

Bow leaves then, and Catra’s attention is back on Adora. Adora still pouts, but Catra looks far more amused than concerned by it. Ushering Adora onto one of the many sofas, she pulls her phone out of her suit pocket and makes a call. Once she’s done, she turns to face Adora.

“Only five minutes babe, then we’re on our way,” she says softly.

Adora stares at her for a moment. Her usually unruly curls are straightened and she wears a striking red and black suit. She wears a hit of mascara and eyeliner, which serves to make her mismatched eyes even more entrancing than usual. Adora wants to lean in right then and there and—

“Adora, not in public,” Catra hisses, gripping her shoulders and pushing her back onto the sofa. She hadn’t even realised she was actually leaning in.

“Sorry,” Adora says, huffing. “But I've barely seen you all night and I had to watch you with that stupid—” she cuts herself off.

But, of course, Catra can’t drop. “Who's stupid now?” she asks, knowing very well what, or who, Adora is talking about.

She scowls and Catra laughs. Then however, she leans in and whispers, “Don’t think I didn’t see how you were looking at me all through tonight. Just wait until we get home baby, then I’m all yours.”

Adora closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. Catra’s not making this easy for her and she knows that. Finally, their driver is here, and Adora has never been more relieved. They say their goodbyes quickly before clambering into the car. The last ounce of self control Adora has is slowly dwindling as Catra places a hand on her thigh, idly tracing circles with her thumb, forcing Adora’s dress up a little higher. The pit in Adora’s stomach burns the whole ride home.

When they get into their apartment, Adora all but stumbles out of the heels she was—forced into—wearing. Adora is, admittedly, a little drunk. Maybe more than a little. But not drunk enough not to know what she wants. And she wants Catra’s lips on hers now, she wants the reminder that only she can do that, that stupid party girl will never have such a luxury. Speaking of, Catra watches her, leaning on the door, amused.

“Don’t trip up Adora,” she says with a grin. Adora is determined to wipe that off her face once and for all.

She goes up to her then, and wastes no time pulling her by the lapel of her suit jacket, into a long overdue kiss. It isn’t slow and soft like they often are, but fast and harsh as Adora moves her hand to grip Catra’s waist from underneath her jacket, pinning her to the door. After the initial shock, Catra’s hands find the back of Adora’s neck, and she’s groaning into the kiss, and Adora knows with certainty that she’s been looking forward to this all night as well. That only encourages Adora more as she parts Catra’s lips; she tastes like champagne and chocolate, and the smell of the cologne she’s wearing registers in Adora’s mind then, so does the way Catra grips the back of her neck and she all but moans into her mouth. Soon, they have to come back up for air, but as Catra begins to pull away, Adora catches her bottom lip between her teeth, and it isn’t until she lets out a hiss that Adora releases it. As she pulls back, she notices how swollen Catra’s lips are, especially the bottom, which looks especially agitated, and leans back in to soothe the bite, swiping her tongue across her bottom lip. Catra lets her, a small sigh escaping from her throat as she does.

When Adora finally pulls back, Catra shakes her head with a smile on her face, before pressing their foreheads together. “That was uncalled for, princess.”

“Nope, it was very called for after everything I’ve been put through tonight.” She leans in for another kiss, and this time it’s slow, maybe a little possessive. “Your lips are all mine,” Adora says as she pulls away, voice low.

Catra buries her face in her neck, pressing a soft kiss against it. “All yours,” she whispers. “Always.”

The heat in Adora’s stomach simmers down for a moment as they just hold each other, and Adora would be content to stay like this for the rest of the night. That is, until Catra hands start to travel down her body and soft kisses on her neck become more heated.

“Catra…” she whines, but she gets no reply. She tries again, but realises there’s no way Catra’s going to stop, so she grabs Catra’s wrists and pins them to the door, keeping her lips just out of her reach. Catra almost looks as agitated as Adora has been for most of the night.

“Yes?” Catra asks.

Adora kisses the tip of her nose, then says, “Bedroom.” Catra smiles then, and they hold onto each other tightly as Adora leads them to their room. The previous events of the night are forgotten in exchange for something much better.

#micah answering asks #spop prompts #thank u anon! #micahs writing #micahs fics #spop fics #actor au! #it nearly gets spicy but not reallly #catradora

[hadtochangemyurlquick]

Clexa Pride Week: Sunday - Free Day

Canon divergent au one-shot

Words: 1848 

Synopsis: Lexa finds more out about the skaikru criminal justice system. 

Or: solitary confinement aint good for the brain and Clarke didn’t really think she could hide it forever did she?

“What will happen to the man?” Clarke asked, her first question as soon as the door closed. The Chancellor, Abby, several other members of the council, and Indra looked around at one another. Lexa didn’t dare take her hand as much as she longed to and settled for watching her.

“Well,” Kane glanced at Lexa, “It’s our right to decide his punishment. He attacked one of our council members.” Lexa nodded and waited for him to continue, hoping he would hurry so she and Clarke could continue on with their visit. The attack had rattled Clarke, seeing her mother so close to death, she looked scared, like she wanted to be held by Lexa as much as Lexa wanted to hold her. Lexa closed her eyes for a moment before forcing herself to focus on Kane. “Normally we would,” He looked at the council, “float him. But um - with the new policies we’d have to deliberate.”

“Perhaps you could put him to work, farming or hauling heavy objects,” Indra scraped the underside of her nails. “There are plenty of smiths in trikru who could use the extra hand.”

“We won’t send him back to trikru,” A council member argued. “He'll get treated more like a hero than a criminal.”

Indra met his eyes and pulled back her lips in a sneer, “And who’s fault is that?”

“Indra,” Lexa warned as the council member opened his fat mouth to argue again. Indra crossed her arms but winced still tender from her bullet wound and Abby led her to a seat, everyone else following suit.

“We have work camps here,” Kane pointed out, “we could have him working for a couple years and then banish him?”

“We should give him a public lashing too,” The head of the guard suggested, “People need to see the repercussions.”

“He’ll only want revenge,” Clarke spoke up, “That’s the whole point of blood must not have blood.”

“We can’t just banish him, it’s the same thing as letting him go,” the council member from before argued, “I say fifty lashes, he’ll be too weak to fight back.”

“He’s a teenager, it might kill him,” Abby said and gave the council member a glare but he only shrugged. Lexa’s eyes looked over him and saw the marks of an Azgeda prisoner. Why they elected him was beyond her. Clearly they hadn’t learned from Pike as much as she’d hoped.

“If we put him in a work camp he might get violent with the other workers, he hates arkers more than anyone remember,” The head of the guard put in. “I say solitary. A month or so in there and he and everyone else will leave us the hell alone.” Lexa straightened her back, turning sharply to Indra with widened eyes who looked just as surprised. Lexa waited for Abby, Kane, even Clarke to speak up but eye contact was made around the room.

“A month then?” Kane asked and there were collective nods. Clarke had slumped somewhat but she hadn’t argued and Lexa stared at her.

“No,” Her voice sounded louder than she meant it to and she tore her eyes away from her love and looked at the room staring at her. “No I won’t allow it.”

“Excuse me?” The azgeda prisoner one said, she turned her piercing stare on him.

“Solitary is barbaric, we don’t even use it in torture.”

The man opened his mouth to argue before Kane cut in, “With all due respect Commander, we have the right to decide. You have to respect our ways just we have to respect yours.”

Lexa stood, “The boy is seventeen, putting him in solitary for any amount of time could permanently injure him.”

The azgeda prisoner scoffed, “We’re all permanently injured. He did a crime, he pays the time.”

“I won’t allow it, he’ll work in a camp in floukru,” Lexa nodded and Indra stood, hand on her sword.

Kane stood too, “Commander -“

“He may have attacked skaikru but he is trikru, I am well within my rights,” Lexa snarled and whipped around Kane watching her as she left. She cast a glance at Clarke who still had her head down. Perhaps she was ashamed for her cowardice. Lexa shook her head, for the first time disappointed with the girl she had given her heart to so long ago.

***

Clarke came to bed that night much later than usual, the stars high in the sky before she wandered in. “You’re still up,” Clarke said. Lexa set her book to the side. “I was gonna um - sleep at my mom’s but I couldn’t -“

‘Sleep without you’ went unsaid and despite Lexa’s anger she could help but let her lips quirk up, “I understand. Me as well.”

Clarke took a couple more steps in and she looked so unsure and nervous Lexa couldn’t stand it and she held up the blanket for Clarke to crawl into bed next to her. “You shouldn’t be so harsh. They’re still learning, they’ll figure it out. All we knew was survival for so long I just - I don’t want you to think badly of them.”

Lexa didn’t answer as Clarke set herself up beside her, one hand playing with a loose string on Lexa’s sleep shirt, her head resting on Lexa’s arm.

“I think it’s too late for that ai niron,” Clarke let out a soft breath of air, maybe a chuckle, maybe a muffled sob, Lexa couldn’t be sure. “Solitary we - we outlawed it years ago perhaps. The first commander worked against it - even Nia never put her prisoners through that.”

“It’s not - well it’s not that bad.”

Lexa stiffened, she tried to keep her voice calm, “I have seen men with their eyes gouged out, women pulling out their own tongues, from the effects of isolation.”

“I - yes but you - you get used to it. It’s not like you can’t - I mean it’s not so bad,” Clarke lay as a solid rock on top of her, stiff, cold, and avoiding as Lexa’s heart began to race.

“Clarke,” She tried to keep her voice from breaking.

“I told you I was a criminal,” Clarke muttered and Lexa tightened her hold, fire burning in her stomach, anger roaring its head. Not at Clarke, never at Clarke, but perhaps at the people who so clearly hadn’t learned a thing since falling to the ground.

“For a non-violent crime,” Lexa said. “I assumed it was stealing, or - or - perhaps taking the blame or -“

“Treason,” Clarke said and Lexa closed her eyes, the single word hitting her with more force than the bullet had so many weeks ago. But of course, Clarke would never settle for the banality of anything less than a righteous cause against authority.

She barely managed to choke out, “How long?” Her breath stuttered and uneven.

“Lexa,” Clarke let out a sigh and pulled away, hands fidgeting in her lap. Lexa tried not to see it as a symptom, tried not to analyze every action Clarke’s made with a new lense but the undertaking wasn’t easy. “They had to - to - to stop the word from getting out.”

“How long Clarke?” Her voice hardened, she sat up and watched Clarke, sitting in the bed too, staring out and away to nothing. “Please,” she placed a hand on Clarke’s arm and Clarke flinched, Lexa pulled away trying to gauge her reaction again but Clarke was unreadable. Her face blank. “Ai niron, beja…” My love, please...

“A little under a year,” Clarke choked out, not much above a whisper, her eyes squeezed shut.

“A year,” Lexa swallowed. “A year.”

“A year,” Clarke agreed. She looked back at Lexa, “You said permanently injured and  -“

“Clarke,” Lexa took her hand, meeting her eyes, “You have never been anything less than perfect to me. I just wish - I wish you had told me sooner. I -” She squeezed Clarke’s hands as Clarke looked away, “I don’t like feeling helpless.”

“I didn’t want you to think less of me,” Clarke closed her eyes and Lexa leaned closer, she had never seen this vulnerable side of Clarke before, this quiet, subdued, broken part of her. She always seemed so strong, so terrifyingly unshakeable, but now the fear, the insecurity, shone through. Lexa didn’t fear much, but she feared this new look in Clarke’s eyes. This empty look.

“I could never,” She squeezed Clarke’s hands and put every bit of emotion into her words, “You must know I could never, not for a moment - Clarke,” her voice broke over the name as she saw the tears falling down Clarke’s cheeks.

She moved to sit beside her and Clarke leaned her head on her shoulder, her own shoulders shaking from the force of restrained sobs. Lexa searched her mind for something she could do, something she could say. She wished she were better at this, all she managed was a gentle kiss to the head on her shoulder and allowing Clarke the space, the strenth to hold her as she cried.

As it got closer to morning Lexa convinced Clarke to sleep and left the tent, instructing five gona to guard it. She knew it wasn’t rational but she couldn’t help it - the thought of Clarke taken by anyone, for any purpose - filled her with more fear than it had ever before. The human body could only endure so much.

Indra found her almost immediately. “Okteivia kom skaikru has informed me it was not a rare practice. That she herself was put in solitary for great portions of time. Heda -”

“We will not attack,” Lexa cut off, despite how desperate she felt. “But inform skaikru how uneven the ground they now walk on is.” Indra bowed her head and Lexa closed her eyes, regretting her next actions with all her heart already. “Speak to Octavia again. I wish to know what else skaikru has kept from us.”

She had long since figured out how savage the proclaimed civilized clan from the sky was. Clarke had told her about the council sending the hundred, practically children in their culture, to die. Clarke had told her about her own mother being forced to sacrifice her father, about the three hundred twenty culled and the famine before she was born. She even told Lexa what floating was, and how it crept into their daily vocabulary. She told her these things in bits and pieces when they came up, or when Lexa noticed something off. But this, this she had made a conscious effort to hide. It disgusted her, it terrified her, and heda never feared for anything except the future.

Indra headed off and Lexa rolled her shoulders, the burden sitting heavier today than usual. A door to the Ark opened revealing Abby’s desperate eyes and hollow face, wet with tears. They met eyes and Lexa shook her head in disgust, walking towards the mess hall. She would serve Clarke breakfast in bed today, perhaps every day after this. Clarke may not have been cherished on the Ark, but she would be cherished here. Lexa would make sure of that.

***

#clexa pride week #gus writes #clexa #princess commander #the 100 #the shit show #clexa fanfic #fanfic #Clarke griffin #lexa #commander lexa #lexa woods #wlw #lgbt #lesbian #bisexual

[secret-diary-of-an-fa]

“Another Life” Review: Another Hour of Mine I Won’t Get Back

One of the good things about Netlix (particularly compared to traditional TV channels) is that its ability to deliver a wide variety of content simultaneously allows it to experiment with things that might not have wider appeal. This is particularly important where genre fiction is concerned, because you can’t rely on formula to develop something genuinely good in that area. Who’d have thought that a ‘cursed object’ story set exclusively in the art world where everyone talks like they’re delivering a devastating Gustav Klimt review would turn out to be one of the best horror movies of recent years? And yet Velvet Buzzsaw blew me away and gave me a reason not to give up on western culture completely. Likewise, who expected a revenge saga about classical music with (at most) one or two truly graphic scenes to be the most gut-wrenching and powerful psychological thrillers of recent years? Yet The Perfection was one of the only truly transcendent films I’ve ever had the privilege of watching. The same goes for series- it’s hard to imagine that an overwhelming blend of surreal and dystopian imagery, hard-to-grasp technological concepts, semi-obscure literary references, needlessly brutal violence, gleeful depravity, whip-smart humour and a borderline-sociopath with a Hello Kitty rucksack would ever be aired on a proper channel. Altered Carbon, however, turned out to be one of the best sci-fi series of the last decade, missing the top spot only thanks to the existence of Rick and Morty.

The reason I’ve started with all this gushing praise, however, is merely to provide context and a necessary counterbalance to the excoriating review that follows. For you see, an ability to deliver niche or experimental content can lead to abject failures as well as shining successes. For every underrated gem, there must be a meticulously-polished turd waiting to ambush the unsuspecting connoisseur. Ladies and gentlemen, Another Life is that turd.

On paper, Another Life sounds like good, solid sci-fi. A starship captain has to travel across the universe to ascertain whether an alien race that recently dropped probes on Earth is hostile or just curious. Along the way, her journey will be complicated by a crew who’s used to working under a different captain with a radically different style of leadership and all the usual, real-life-plausible dangers of travel through uncharted space (along with a few blatantly made-up ones). It’s not a terrible idea, but every bad creative decision that could be made is made and so the whole things collapses like a poorly-made soufle before the end of episode one.

For a start, let’s talk about the show’s aesthetics and visual decisions. the CG budget clearly wasn’t huge (which is fine), but the show tries to realise as many of its effects as possible using CG anyway, which stretches that minimal budget far too thin and draws attention to how artificial and contrived everything looks. For example, the decision to make the alien probes on Earth giant shimmering walls of crystal that can only be realised through CG is particularly baffling, given that they could just have been big fuck-off metal things that could have been physically built as a set. Meanwhile, the show‘s overall look is... well, bland. If you’ve seen literally any space sci-fi before, you’ve seen the individual elements of the tech in Another Life. I think it’s aiming for Archetypal, but it just looks lazy. It doesn’t help that they liberally borrow terminology from other sci-fi. I know that ‘Impulse Engine’ is technically (probably) the correct name for a slower-than-light engine that works in a particular way, but calling your space engines that just invites comparisons to Star Trek, which won’t be favourable. Back to the point, though: in addition to cribbing heavily from superior shows, Another Life also makes everything look far too smooth and clean. A spaceship is a working vehicle filled with people doing dangerous, difficult, often dirty jobs. Its interior shouldn’t look like an iPhone fucked a trendy west-end bar. Seriously, the ‘future’ set in fucking Crystal Maze looks more convincing.

The problem of everything seeming too smooth and clean extends beyond the visuals and into the casting. Practically everyone in the core cast is in their early twenties. They’re not bad actors, necessarily, but they clearly need older, more experienced hands around them to guide their performances and the absence of these more seasoned actors is felt acutely. There’s a reason why mature sci-fi shows usually cast across a broad age range- you’re asking your cast to deal with conceptual and scientific abstractions that can be challenging for people who don’t have a few performances under their belt. It also feels wildly implausible that a dangerous space-mission would feature a bunch of hormonal twenty-somethings who’s personal drama might get in the way of them making clever decisions. The main lass (whose name I’ve already forgotten), is played by a noticeably older woman. Indeed, that age difference is a big part of her character: can she win the trust and respect of the young hotheads? Unfortunately, one older actress does not a seasoned cast make. Besides, the character she’s playing just isn’t worth rooting for. It’s not that she’s a terrible person- she’s coldly aloof, but so was Picard and everyone loves that dude. It’s just that she has no depth. She has a family back on Earth, and we’re told that she’s missing them and trying to ensure the mission’s success so she can see them again, but the supposed internal conflict has no effect on her behaviour. She just goes about robotically calculating and minimising risk, even though doing so ensures that she’s going to be in space, away from her loved ones, for much, much longer. Within the narrative of the show, she’s making the correct, mature decisions, but shouldn’t they be causing her some introspective strife? No? Yes? Does this fucking show care one way or the other?

Of course, janky characters and budget set designs are kind of par for the cause with sci-fi of a certain type. Sometimes it can be endearing (the fact that the sets literally wobbled sometimes in early Doctor Who was part of its charm, for example). A much bigger problem is Another Life’s total lack of narrative logic. The main character (no I still can’t remember her name, nor be bothered to check) managed to get ten people killed the last time she was in charge of a starship. Surely that’s the point at which you politely ask someone to retire? Even if there were mitigating circumstances (which there probably were because showing fallibility in its lead is not something this show feels comfortable with), why on Earth would anyone put her in charge of a crew of emotional 20-somethings she’s never met before while their previous, trusted captain is still on the fucking ship and clearly feeling mutinous? That’s just bad management on behalf of planet Earth’s top brass. I can only hope that someone in HR got the sack for that one. Or, better yet, that a giant hammer will spontaneously fall out of the sky and hit this show’s script-writer so hard in the head that he loses control of his motor functions and bowels and is forced to retire to a convalescent home for the incontinent.

The captain’s own decision making processes are just as baffling as her bosses. There’s a bit where the crew figures out that they can get back on course and cut down on journey time by slingshotting around a slightly temperamental star using the same shielding they use when traveling at FTL (yeah- FTL space travel is a common thing in this universe, yet humans have somehow never met another alien race before- make of that what you will). They already tried to slingshot round the star once and were forced to abort and break orbit because of the strain on the ship. The plan has an 89% chance of success. The 11% chance of failure doesn’t equate to instant death or anything- logically, it just means the shield would fail and they’d have to break orbit again (because that’s what happened before: remember that we’ve already established that slingshotting around the star doesn’t do anything worse than rattle the ship and give everyone plenty of time to back off). For some reason, Captain Caution decides that the high chance of success, negligible risk of serious repercussions and massive potential benefits just aren’t good enough and vetoes the plan, thereby adding months to the voyage. Isn’t establishing whether the new, technologically superior alien neighbours are friendly or not something of a time-critical op, by the way? Naturally, the crew mutiny (under the leadership of the previous captain), try their plan and it fails miserable.

And there’s the final nail in the coffin for Another Life. It doesn’t play by its own rules. Its established that the FTL shields can’t use much power, because they’re on all the fucking time during FTL. It’s established that nothing particularly terrible happens when you try to slingshot round a star and have to abort. It’s established that combining those two facts to get a speed boost has an 89% chance of success. And yet, when the crew try it without the Captain’s express permission, bits of the ship start to explode, everything goes to shit and the vessel ends up in a decaying orbit around the sun, somehow drained of power. The show’s in such a hurry to show that it’s main character is right and correct and noble in everything she does that it forgets rules it laid down literally five minutes earlier.

The whole shoddy shebang has a weirdly patronising and conservative ethos. “Listen to your elders and official superiors”, it whispers smugly. “They always know best, even when they’re responsible for the deaths of ten or more people in the quite recent past. Don’t think for yourself. Don’t try to improve your situation. The old, safe ways of doing things are always best, even when they seem neurotic or unworkable.” It’s weird, because it’s the exact opposite problem that sci-fi normally has. Normally, sci-fi tries so hard to be forward-looking that you end up with a bunch of wide-eyed fuckwits trusting the power of friendship and love over a more measured, carefully-planned approach. Both sides of the coin are equally annoying since they involve sacrificing the internal logic of the fictional universe on the alter of Some Hack’s personal ethos. However, Another Life earns my full, unmitigated disapprobation, not just a mild slap on the wrist, because it doesn’t even bother to be a good sci-fi show before jumping into the message-mongering bullshit. Remember, all this shit is from episode one. My advice to those of you craving some hard space sci-fi is to re-watch Nightflyers instead. It’s weird as balls, well-scripted, has a properly-established set of hard sci-fi rules and there’s even a romantic subplot involving the hologramatic projection of a hideous mutant. Yeah. Go watch that instead. I think I might, too, come to think of it.

#Secret Diary of a Fat Admirer #Another Life #Another Life review #Netflix #Nightflyers #sci-fi #science fiction #TV #hard sci-fi

[razieltwelve]

Team (Final Rose)

“You’re not pushing for Averia to be accelerated?” Glynda asked.

Lightning shook her head. “No.”

“She’s more than capable of it.” The blonde glanced down at her scroll. “She might have only just started at Beacon Junior Academy, but she’s already topping our estimates of combat potential.”

“With or without Saviour?”

“With Saviour, she’s already at the top. Without it, we’ve got her classified in the top five.” Glynda gestured, and a hologram sprang to life above her scroll. “This is footage of her sparring against one of the top students in the final year of the Junior Academy. Apparently, she said something about one of Averia’s friends, and your daughter challenged her to a spar.”

Lightning studied the footage. The other girl was good, very good. She used twin daggers, and she moved with the swift, deadly efficiency of someone whose style was better suited to fighting people than Grimm. Her eyes narrowed. Unless she was missing her guess, that was the same style used by some of the former champions of Mistral’s infamous gladiatorial circuit. 

Averia, though, was more than equal to the task. With almost mechanical precision, Averia dismantled her opponent’s style. For the first minute of the fight, Averia was on the back foot, but Lightning could pinpoint the exact instant that Averia was confident in her assessment of her opponent’s style and abilities. In a blindingly fast and complicated lock of blades, Averia wrenched one of her opponent’s daggers from her grasp and sent it spinning away. One of Fang’s favourite disarms followed, and the girl lost her other weapon.

As the other girl scrambled back, Averia tossed her weapon to Claire, who was watching in the crowd. With a grim smile on her face, Averia beckoned the other girl forward.

“I think you’ve made your point.” Lightning frowned at Glynda. “What was the other girl’s ranking?”

“Third in the final year, and your daughter tossed her around like a sack of potatoes. She’s ready for the Senior Academy.”

“She might be, but she won’t be going there. I’ve discussed this with Ozpin. I have a team in mind for her.”

“Oh?”

“First of all, I have no intention of splitting her up from Claire.”

“Claire could be accelerated as well.”

“But there are two people who have made requests to have both Claire and Averia on their team, and after reviewing those requests, I agree that they would be ideally suited for both her and Claire. However, the two people in question will not be available to form a team until the standard time.”

“Who?” Glynda scowled. She was aware of any and all applications through the standard channels, which meant this had not come from the standard channels.

“Jahne Nabaat and Princess Elsa of Arendelle.”

Glynda stared. “Jahne Nabaat? I’m amazed you even considered it. You and Jihl don’t get along at all.”

“I don’t like her, but I acknowledge her skills. Jahne has enough of Lebreau in her personality that I don’t have to worry about her treating everyone on her team as one of her pawns. She also needs people on her team who can do the heavy lifting in combat since, like Jihl, her Semblance is not ideally suited for direct confrontation.”

“Illusions, if I recall correctly,” Glynda murmured. “Both in the mind and in the form of constructs.”

“It’s more than that,” Lightning said. “If my projections are correct, it’ll develop into something approaching complete sensory fidelity. She could, I think, eventually get to the point where she could convince you that you’re drowning and you might actually die.”

“I see.” Glynda pursed her lips. “A safety measure too then since Saviour is impervious to mental interference. If she ever goes rogue…”

“Averia will be able to deal with her easily,” Lightning said. “Not that I have any reason to believe Jahne will go rogue. Besides, Jahne can be a bit prickly. Averia and Claire have known her for years. They get along well, and they can handle her if her prickliness gets out of hand.” She frowned. “Jihl has also called in plenty of favours. She wants Jahne on a team that can properly take advantage of her talents and protect her if necessary. Can you imagine the damage someone like Claire could do if her opponents were distracted?”

Glynda nodded. “Yes, I can. There will also be horrific repercussions if something happens to Jahne on a mission. With Averia and Claire around, that’s not very likely to occur. The princess is easier to understand. Her Semblance is incredibly powerful, and it’s still growing stronger.” Glynda shook her head in disbelief. “She’s fifteen and she’s already an EX Tier threat.”

“Glynda, the last time Elsa had a bad day and lost control, she froze an entire bay solid. I was there. She was twelve. She’s only gotten stronger since then. Give her enough time to control the weather, and she’d be able to bury Vale in snow.”

“Another counter measure then?” Glynda asked.

“No.” Lightning shook her head. “I’ve spent a fair amount of time in Arendelle. Elsa gets along very well with Averia. They’re good friends, and Elsa also knows Claire quite well too. As a princess, Elsa is a bit shy. She hasn’t really been able to socialise like a normal girl her age. Putting her on a team with people she doesn’t know is likely to end in disaster. In terms of team dynamics, it makes sense too. Given what you know about Elsa, how would deal with her if she was your opponent?”

“Hit her hard and fast before she can really hit her stride. With the amount of ice and snow she can generate, not to mention what I’ve heard about her ice constructs, giving her any time to prepare is suicide. It would have to either be a long range attack with an extremely powerful weapon or a melee-range attack by a close-quarters specialist.”

Lightning nodded. “And with Averia, Claire, and Jahne on her team?”

“She’s basically unbeatable,” Glynda conceded. “At close range, both Claire and Averia should be able to handle any threat. It’s likely that Averia will be able to handle any long-range threat too, but she might not have to. With Jahne around, trying to pin down where Elsa actually is might be impossible.”

“Exactly.” Lightning folded her hands together. “I’m not normally one to be swayed by favours or promises of influence, but in this case, it’s not about that. The four of them would make an excellent team.”

#final rose #fanfiction #lightning farron #glynda goodwitch

[alextriestowritestuff]

Write Misconnection with me!

Warning: suicide mention. Okay, friends, I have a burst of productivity™ so I’m going to write some if not all of a short story. For those of you who don’t know (I’ve only spoken about this in tags/reblogs so no formal posts), “Misconnection” is a short story about three estranged friends who reunite at the funeral of their close friend who has committed suicide. The four of them were best friends in high school but the three friends (the living ones) graduated a year before the now deceased friend and things fell apart from there. The story picks up five years after they’ve graduated. 

I’m going to be updating y’all on the status of the story as I write. I have a feeling I won’t get it done in one day (It’s about 7 pm where I am) but my circadian rhythm is so destroyed that I don’t sleep till 5 am. So we’ll see! I’ll be reblogging with updates and some snippets if my perfectionist brain allows. I’ve left some info about the characters below so you’re not like ??? when I talk about them. Yesterday, I wrote what was supposed to be a short scene but ended up being 1,500 words so this short story might end up being like 10k which is not short at all lol. The story requires 4 flashback scenes as well as an entire conversation between three characters so it might be a little long. Anyway, happy new year’s eve/new year and let’s ring in the year with some writing!

Rafael Pena is the deceased friend. He met the other characters in detention *cue breakfast club ref* and they all hit it off. In high school, he had a rough time with his foster parents because they basically didn’t care about him and only kept him around for reimbursement purposes (Foster parents get reimbursed a certain amount of money for fostering). He was a newly transferred sophomore when he met the other characters who were juniors in high school. So he kind of latched onto them and when they graduated, he had no one. He drops out his senior year, succumbing to depression. Four years pass and he tries to keep contact with the other characters but two of them have moved out of state for college and the other winds up in jail. With no support system from friends and no family; he develops a drug addiction. He becomes a pariah in the small town of Runswick, Indiana. And having no money for professional help, he commits suicide in April 2010, when the short story picks up.

Personality wise, he was dubbed the “wild card” He was adventurous and outgoing. Wasn’t in class much but that’s because he was suspended all the time. Joked around a lot but had a lot of charisma. He was ambitious but never really believed in himself. He only felt whole when around his best friends.

Blaire Caulfield is a successful scientist trying to forget her past. She was focused and driven in high school, getting straight As. But she had no friends to share her accomplishments with. She was in detention because of a plagiarism misunderstanding and wouldn’t have imagined even being associated with the other characters a year ago. But she finds herself drawn to them and they give her an opportunity to let loose a little. And in return, Blaire sometimes writes their papers. For the rest of her high school career, she struggles with her sexual identity and has a friends with benefits relationship with another character, Ash. There comes a point where Blaire realizes their relationship is not just a fling and she wants to be with Ash. They attempt to date but Ash won’t come out to her parents and they break things off early into their freshman year of college. Blaire starts a new life in college and wants to bury the past, that is, until Rafael’s death forces her to face it. (Yes her last name is a reference to Catcher in the Rye)

Ash/Ashley O’Connor is a spoiled, rich, entitled girl and she knows it. In high school, she acted out and landed herself a one way ticket to detention. She funds a lot of the group’s not-so-legal activities but she genuinely feels a bond with all of them. They don’t want her for her money and that’s not something she’s used to. She’s also not used to Blaire’s infectious laugh and endearing personality. Ash wants to keep things strictly between the sheets but Blaire is ready to come out. Ash doesn’t want to crush her parent’s hope of having grandkids as she is their only child. Not to mention the social repercussions that would follow. After a tumultuous relationship, Blaire and Ash go their separate ways. Ash finishes college and is celebrating her engagement when she gets the call about Rafael’s passing. In honor of her friend, she goes back to the small town she’d promised to never return. Her fiance doesn’t know about her history with Blaire and Ash intends to keep it that way. 

Crash Tyler is a washed up, ex convict. He dealt drugs in high school and was in and out of juvie before he met the gang. Although he won’t admit it, they give him a reason to try to make something better of himself. He doesn’t want to be the abusive and manipulative man his father was. But the path to redemption is hard and becomes nearly impossible after he sells drugs to a young girl who overdoses on them. He spends the years after high school in prison and only Rafael knows about his sentence. He visits Crash often but after a deadly prison fight; Crash gets transferred and loses all contact with Rafael. He does his time, gets out and works as a mechanic in Runswick. He is six months post incarceration when Rafael tries to call him but he doesn’t pick up. The next day, he hears news of Rafael’s death. 

About the setting: it’s set in the fictional town of Runswick, Indiana. There is a township called Brunswick, Indiana so I just dropped the B because I’m not original at all lol. Population of about 15k and has been under that number since the 70s. Place kind looks like a ghost town and smells like mildew. There’s like one of everything-a high school, a dental office, a hospital, etc. If you still live there in the 21st century, you either come from old roots, old money, or are just poor. All of the characters parents grew up and went to high school there so the kids have seen 

I want the story to feel angsty and complex. Remember when you were younger and went over to a friend’s house and the friend’s parent starts nagging/yelling at their kid? And you just sit there, uncomfortable as hell, but can’t really say anything because it’s not your business? That’s how I want readers to feel when they read this lol. It’s a raw, invasive, personal conversation between three individuals whose lives have diverged since they graduated from high school.

#alextriestowritestuff #writeblr #am writing #Misconnection #short story #writing update #write with me #new year #new year's eve #Rafael Pena #Crash Tyler #Blaire Caufield #Ash O'Connor #Trigger warning: suicide

[hyperion-moonbabe-art3mis]

Virago 14. Leap of Faith

Summary: Y/N was sent to the ground after spending five years in the Skybox for stealing medical supplies and murder. How will she deal with her new environment and learn to survive on earth? Will she crack under the pressure of becoming a leader of the 100 or will she embrace it. 

Post Date: 09.04.20

Word count: 1.7k

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x Reader

Based off: 02x03 “Repercussions”

Masterlist

100 Master List

Clarke starts to try to unlock the cage Anya is in but there’s no luck, “We’re gonna get you out of here,” Clarke reassures Anya. 

Clarke gets up and looks for something to break the lock open and you follow after. As you look around you find a rusty bar that you could pull off the wall.  You hand the bar to Clarke who quickly pries open the lock on the cage. As soon as Anya was about to get out of the cage you hear some beeps coming from one of the doors and watch as Tsing walks in. You quickly find an empty cage on the bottom row and crawl in as Clarke crawls into Anya’s. 

Tsing grabs a blood bag from a container before making her way near the cages to check out the commotion the grounders are making. She walks in between the cages inspecting them before walking out of the room.

“Okay. We’ve gotta go. Now.” You say quickly getting out of the cage and helping Clarke with Anya. She wraps an arm around each of your shoulders as you guys make your way out of the room. You and Clarke grab ahold of a door labeled “END CONTAINMENT AREA” and make your way out.

You guys find yourselves in a small room with what looked like a door underneath. As soon as you guys made it into the room. The door behind you guys started to close. Clarke tried to open it back up but it was not luck. 

“What is that?” Anya questioned as an alarm started going off.

“I don’t--” You started before the ground below you three disappears. You fall down a chute into a bin. You soon discover that you’re laying on a pile of bodies. You and Clarke quickly get up as Anya examines the bodies. 

“Anya! Take my hand.” Clarke yells holding her hand out. Not too long after Anya takes Clarke’s hand and you get out of the bin. As you take in your surroundings you notice that you are in some sort of tunnel outside of Mount Weather.

“We’re out,” You say after getting ahold of yourself and Anya just stares at the grounders in the bin.

“Hey. Come on, get dressed. We can’t cover any ground like this.” Clarke says making her way to a pile of clothes.

“I won’t leave my people behind,” Anya protests as you look through the clothes.

“Anya, listen to me. My people are still inside that place too, but they have guards. They have weapons. Once we get out of here, we can find help. We can come back--” You start.

“There is no ‘we’” Anya interrupts. Soon after you hear shouting down the tunnel. “Someone’s coming,” She says as the voices get louder. 

“Not just someone. Reapers,” Clarke says recognizing the speaking. Anya quickly goes over to pick something up. “Hey. Anya, you can’t fight. You can hardly stand. I have a better idea. Come on,” Clarke points out and pulls Anya towards another bin. 

You and Clarke help Anya get into the bin and you follow after. Clarke quickly grabs clothes and throws them into the bin before getting in herself. The three of you lay quietly as the reapers continue to approach. The next thing you know you have the grounder bodies tossed into the bin and on top of you. The reapers continue to pile the bodies atop of you guys before wheeling you guys away. You feel the panic start to rise but stay as calm as can be for the sake of living.

After being wheeled for what felt like forever, you finally stopped. The reapers pulled out a body. Clarke got up to inspect the area. “Okay. Come on,” Clarke whispers getting ready to get out of the bin.

Anaya gets up and cups one of the grounder’s heads, “What are you doing? Let’s go,” You whisper wanting to get away as quickly as possible.

“Yu gonplei ste odon,” Anya says, before snapping his neck. Clearly a phrase in grounder that you didn’t understand. The three of you then make your way out of the bin, throwing the clothes over as you do so. You grab some of the clothes and the three of you quickly sneak away down the tunnel.

The three of you quickly get dressed in the clothes and continue down the tunnel, clueless of where you are, “Damn it, this place is a maze,” You say.

“What are they doing to us?” Anya questions taking a moment to herself.

“They use your blood. I saw a soldier come in with radiation burns. Hours later, he was fine. It’s like your blood is healing them somehow. I’ve never seen anything like it,” Clarke explains out of breath.

“Come on. This way,” You say after slightly inspecting the tunnel a bit more. But Anya starts to walk off in the direction you just came from. 

“Hey. Hey. What are you doing? That’s the way back to the reapers,” Clarke questions noticing Anya didn’t follow.

“You two go your way. I’ll go mine.,” Anya states.

“Anya, we need to stick together,” Clarke quickly responds.

“I told you there is no ‘we’”. You two have eachother,” Anya replies back.

“We saved your life,” You add-in.

“You saved my life because you need me. I know the way back to your people. I know where the traps are hidden. You two would never make it alone,” Anya states.

“We don’t have time for this. Our best chance of making it out of here alive is together. All we can do is keep moving and hope--” Clarke says as the two of you continue down the tunnel. But you turn around and find Anya gone and alert Clarke to it.

“Anya,” Clarke says in hopes she wasn’t far. 

“Come on, let’s go find her,” You say and start to run back from where you came.

“No, we need to get out of here,” Clarke pulls at your sleeve to run the original direction you were going.

You and Clarke continue to run through the tunnel but are still lost. Soon enough you find yourself faced with a reaper. As the two of you try to run away you find yourselves surrounded by them.

“Clarke, what do we do?!” You ask with urgency.

“I don’t know,” She says as you’re backed into a wall. Before you are mauled by the reapers a high-pitched wailing fills the tunnel and the reapers run away.

“Get back. Get the hell away from them,” You see two Mount Weather people in suits make their way to you.

“Clarke Griffin and Y/N Y/L/N, you’re coming with us,” One of the men say. Each of the men grabs one of your arms and drags you back to a door into Mount Weather.

“We saw everything. We know what you’re doing to them,” You tell the men.

“That’s why you two are going in the harvest chamber with them,” The man states. “Alpla-delta two. We reached the intake. Two prisoners in custody,” He says as the other man goes to the keypad. 

“Your mission was to bring back all three. The outsider cannot be allowed to leave this mountain. Alpha-Delta One is coming out now,” A man says over a radio. Soon enough you hear screaming and one of the men is taken down by Anya. You pull off the mask of the man holding onto you.

“His mask,” Clarke yells to Anya who is smashing the guy into the wall.

“I found a way out. This way,” Anya yells and runs off. You and Clarke follow but not before she picks up the gun on the ground. You hear the men follow you as you make your way down the tunnel.

You see the light in front of you and continue to make your way towards it. But stop just short after noticing the huge drop off in front of you.

“Wait. There has to be another way,” Clarke says unsure of the escape route.

“There isn’t!” Anya yells back.

“Just give up Clarke and Y/N” You got no place else to go,” A man says as the group of men catch up to you guys. Anya doesn’t hesitate to jump off and disappear into the water below.

“We don’t have to kill you two. Do you hear me? It doesn’t have to end like this. Drop your weapon,” The man says. Clarke does what the man says and puts her hands up, you follow after her.

“Clarke, we have to jump. We can’t save our people from inside here,” You say just barely loud enough for her to hear over the roaring waters below.

“I know. Just follow my lead. Together ok?” She says walking forwards and you do the same.

“Take the prisoners,” The man says to his team. As soon as you notice Clarke turn around you run and follow her. Jumping into the water below.

You gather yourself as you feel the force at which you hit the water. You loom around for Clarke and find her unconscious. You muster all the strength you can and pull her with you down the stream. As soon as you felt you were far enough away, you pulled Clarke to the edge of the stream and see Anya make her way up to the two of you. She helps you pull Clarke into a small clearing.

Luckily Clarke woke up, “Thank god. We made it out,” You tell her as Clarke gathers herself.

“Thank you,” She says turning to Anya whose sitting on the other side of Clarke. “I think we should go back to the dropship first. So we can see if my people--” Clarke says before Anya takes a rock and smashes it to Clarke’s head and doing the same to you.

“We’re not going back to your dropship. You two killed 300 of my warriors. I can’t show my face without a prize. Might as well make it two while both of you are here,” She states as she starts to tie both of your wrists together and dragging the two of you off.

A/N: Y/N made it out of Mount Weather, but is a prisoner of Anya’s along with Clarke. Yes, I’m sure you’re thinking, Y/N and Clarke could totally take on Anya together, but she’s a badass and I wanted to stay cannon to this part as much as possible. Thanks for reading!

🏷: @im-a-writer-right​ | @marsbar-inspace32​ | @zestylemon99​ | @unrvquited​ | @thebeautifulbookworm​​ | @gxvrielle​ | @simonsbluee​ | @iwishilivedinthesims​ | @awkwardspontaneity​

#The 100 #the 100 imagine #the 100 series #the 100 rewrite #bellamy blake x reader #clarke griffin #anya kom trikru #100virago

[seriouslyhooked]

Scoring Your Love (Part 16/18)

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six,Part Seven,Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen, Part Fourteen, Part Fifteen. Story also on FF here and AO3 here. Banner by the wonderful @timetravelandfairytales

Modern AU where Killian is a world famous soccer star who has hit rock bottom and been sentenced to the place where ‘football’ legends go to die – America. While here he crosses paths with Emma, an up and coming musician and film scorer who challenges everything he thought he knew and makes him want more than the game he’s always loved. Will be filled with fluff for days. Rated M.

A/N: Hey all! This chapter is a bit longer than last time (because I couldn’t seem to stop writing), but I hope you will enjoy it all the same. It’s bringing more closure and CS cuteness so I imagine you’ll all be okay with it. Anyway thanks for reading and I hope you all enjoy!

“If you’re just joining us, the lead story in the country and around the world tonight is that media mogul Robert Gold has been taken into custody after a court in the district of Los Angeles moved to indict. Gold surrendered himself just hours ago and he had been charged with multiple felony charges ranging from extortion to embezzlement.”

It didn’t matter that Killian had told Emma just a few days ago about this next turn of events; it was still surreal to see a man who had tried to ruin their lives actually face justice. The video evidence of Gold’s public shaming was incredible, and it was staggering to see just how far the man had fallen in a matter of hours.

For Killian this was a very happy day, and Emma felt the same way. Maybe it was wrong to smile at another’s misfortune. A better person would have washed their hands of Gold’s crimes and not cared about getting any kind of revenge, but Emma wasn’t like that. She felt vindicated and calmed by the fact that Gold was truly out of the picture and that he’d failed. He wanted to destroy her relationship with Killian – to make Killian miserable and to break both their hearts in the process – but he never succeeded. Instead Emma and Killian were stronger than ever and the two of them got the satisfaction of watching that creep get escorted away from his gaudy estate in cuffs.

“Is it terrible of me to say that I kind of wish there was more to it than this?” Emma asked, pulling Killian’s attention from the screen and back to her.  She sipped her morning coffee before shrugging and explaining what she meant. “I mean I know he’s ruined. Whether or not he stays in prison for life, his company’s been taken over by the board and he’s got virtually nothing compared to what he had before, but…”

“But it would be nice if someone delivered him a swift punch in the face.”

“Exactly!” Emma exclaimed, relieved that he got it even as she looked bashfully down to the counter where her breakfast remained. “I mean I’m not saying violence is always the answer or anything, but the man tried to tear us apart.”

“I don’t think a punishment exists befitting that crime, love. It’s a sin that can never be forgiven,” Killian said. “Even if he never would have been successful.”

In the days since Killian and Emma had their scare, both of them had come to a single conclusion: that even though Emma had withdrawn into herself when the crisis came calling, it would never have lasted. Neither of them could stay away, not even Emma with all her past traumas and fears of being alone. Even if Killian had waited she would still have reached out and chosen him over running. Ultimately the love they both felt for each other was too strong for her to have actually walked away, no matter what the repercussions. Emma was only glad Killian understood that, and that he didn’t harbor any resentments for her actions.

“So have you heard anything?” Emma asked, pushing him in a different direction than Gold’s impending time in jail. This was about the team he used to play for. Now that Gold was gone they must be scrambling to get him back, right? Only complete morons would wait around and hope he just came back on his own.

“Not yet, love. I told you, you��d be the first to know,” Killian vowed, kissing her on the temple before bringing his cup to the sink and washing it out.

“I know,” Emma said dropping the rest of her drink beside his before running her hand along his chest soothingly.

“Why do I feel like there’s something you’re not saying?” he asked, his humor apparent even as curiosity got the better of him.

“It’s nothing. This is your business, Killian, and I trust you to make the right calls for you. If you’re happy, I’m happy.”

“But…?” he said, knowing there was something Emma wanted from him. She caved and came clean.

“It’s just that I don’t think you are happy,” she said. He tried to refute that but she put a finger to his mouth to quiet him. “Okay I know you’re happy, but not in every way. You need to talk to your brother. I know that he hurt you, but I think if you gave him a chance he would make up for it.”

Killian’s hands tightened slightly where they were on her hips and the newfound rigidity of his posture spoke volumes. Truth was Killian was furious at Liam. He had admitted as much to Emma when he told her of Liam’s visit. Killian didn’t go too into detail, but Emma had her suspicions. It would take a lot to rile Killian to this level, and in order to do it Liam would have had to say some not so flattering things about her.

“I’ve five minutes before I have to leave, love. I don’t really want to spend such precious time talking about Liam.”

With the words out there between them, Killian tried to distract her. He dropped kisses along her neck, tormenting her with the promise of all that this remarkable man could get done in so short a window. Emma felt herself giving in, leaning into the action and it was crazy that he could spark her need for him so soon. All last night (and again this morning) they’d been saying the long good bye before he left for his away game this morning. It shouldn’t be possible to want him this much. She should be completely sexed out by this point, but with Killian the limit of need didn’t seem to exist. She always wanted more, and it was so very hard to turn him down, even in moments like this when she absolutely had to.

“Fine, then we won’t talk about it,” Emma promised as his hands trailed across her body. She felt the trail of arousal that followed his every move and she bit back a groan as he purposefully teased her. “But that doesn’t mean we have time for this either.”

“We’ll make time, Swan. I promise it’ll be worth your while,” he said, his voice dripping in innuendo and igniting her already charged libido.

“Killian, you’re the one with the plane to catch not me. Trust me I’d like a whole lot more than five minutes, but we just don’t have it.”

Killian stopped the teasing, but his hands continued to hold her close. She felt him trying to steady his breathing, as if the very thought of him having to go was painful to him. She could understand his hesitation. This week away for his next game would be the first time they’d said bye since all of the Gold stuff had happened. They’d been lucky that the team had a home game and then a by-week, but their luck had run out. Never the less, Emma knew that they could handle the distance even if it hurt for now. Hard as it was to say goodbye, they were at a new level, one where no obstacles were going to stop them. The love they shared was made of stronger stuff than anything that would try to break it, and what was that old saying? Absence makes the heart grow fonder? Well, in their case their hearts might be as fond either way, but the coming together after time spent apart always made for even more fireworks than they were used to.

“Soon enough the season will be over, love, and then there’ll be no getting rid of me.”

Emma smiled, turning around in his arms and kissing him surely, loving the fact that when they broke apart his smile was gone again. She could see in his eyes he was still sorry to be leaving, but he was as certain of her as she was of him and that meant a lot to her.

“You do realize I’ll still have to work, right?”

“Aye, but I was hoping I might be able to tempt you to take a holiday. I’ll take you anywhere you wish, all I ask is a week of just you and me together.”

“Hmm,” Emma said, pretending to consider what was hands down the best offer anyone had sent her way in a damn long while. “How about this – you win the championship this year and I’ll go with you. Deal?”

“Deal,” he said with a huge, cocky grin growing on his handsome face. “Best request the time now off, love. We’ll be making that trip. That cup is as good as mine.”

Emma giggled as Killian pulled her close, going on and on about what an ‘ace player’ he was and how he’d ‘bring it home’ for her. She had to admit she loved this totally self-assured side of him. The swagger was hot, there was no way around it, and knowing that a good man lay underneath those layers made her heart swoon all the more.

“I’ll speak to my brother, Emma,” Killian said seriously, his hand running across her cheek. “Not because he deserves it, but because you wish it.”

Emma couldn’t help but smile at that and she pulled him down by the collar of his jacket to kiss him again.  This perfect man was willing to do anything for her, even if it meant facing things that would no doubt be hard and unpleasant. When they came apart and stayed close with their foreheads touching, she kept her eyes closed, soaking in the scent and the feel of him and knowing it would have to hold her over for the next four days at least.

“I love you, Killian.”

“And I love you, Emma. I’ll be back soon, and I’ll call you when I get there.”

Emma walked him to the door, trying to comfort the pang in her chest with the knowledge that he would never really be gone at all. He was leaving his heart here with her, and soon enough he’d be back again, filling her life with laughter and love and all those other beautiful things she’d grown so fond of.

“Bloody hell, I wish you’d just take me up on my offer and stay while I’m gone. You’ve already got a key. It would make me happy to know you’re here and safe.”

“Oh believe me, I’m plenty safe in my apartment. Ruby’s got moves you couldn’t even imagine,” Emma quipped.

“Actually I might,” Killian said with a deep chuckle as he pressed one last kiss upon her lips. “Just think about it, Swan. You’re always welcome here. You know that.”

“I do. Now, seriously get going or I will call Tiny up here to drag you away.”

“Aye aye, Captain,” he said with a last salute that made her laugh more than she should as he walked out the door and headed off to his responsibilities. God he was corny, but she couldn’t seem to stop loving him anyway.

Once the door was closed behind him, Emma locked up again and then turned back around to take in his place. She might not be planning to sleep here alone, but Emma had a free day ahead of her before meeting with her friends tonight. She had all sorts of ideas of how to laze the day a way in Killian’s swanky apartment. He had a huge TV, a fully stocked kitchen, and a bathtub any sane person would kill for. Seriously, it was obscenely perfect and she figured if she had to face the hardship of her boyfriend being gone yet again, she might as well get a good soak out of it. But just when had was settled on how to indulge first, she heard the telltale sound of the alarm being shut off and the lock on the front door unbolting.

“Killian?” Emma asked, wondering what could have prompted him to come back. She knew he’d been thorough in his packing before, and now he would most certainly be late. Walking back to the entryway she was shocked to find not Killian, but a man she recognized from photos that were all around this house. It was Liam.

“No, sorry. You’ll have to settle for his brother.”

“So you’re the famous Liam.” Emma responded, putting on a smile she hoped looked more confident than she felt. “I’m Emma.”

“In the interest of honesty I should tell you I knew that already,” Liam said, confusing Emma as he did. That was… nice of him, she guessed, but at the same time it felt like the statement was charged with something other than friendliness.

“Killian’s not here at the moment. He just left to catch the flight to New York.”

“Aye, I know. I was waiting for him to leave.”

“Really, why?” Emma asked, not following. Was he checking up on the place or something?

“Because I wanted to meet the mysterious woman who has my brother all tied up in knots,” Liam answered as he waved his hand towards her direction. “I suppose I could have gone a more traditional route, but I didn’t want Killian playing referee. I have some things I need to ask you, Emma, and I didn’t trust my brother not to fight me on it.”  

“He does tend to get a little over protective,” Emma mused. “But I sense that’s a family trait. Whatever your questions are, you’re clearly here for Killian. You want what’s best for him, and you don’t think I’m it.”

“I don’t know what to think yet,” Liam said before pulling out a chair and motioning that he intended to sit. “Do you mind?”

“Go for it, it’s not my place.”

“But you have a key,” Liam prodded and Emma’s brow furrowed.

“How did you…?” Emma’s question trailed off as she realized she might not like the answer she received.

“I organized Killian’s move here. The manager of the building has been keeping me informed of any changes. A key was made, and you’re here while Killian is gone, therefore I’m left to assume he made the key for you.”

“Did you ever think that you should ask Killian these kinds of questions?” Emma said then, trying to keep composed even though she felt annoyance on Killian’s behalf.

“Yes, but he wouldn’t answer me and it’s my job to know these things.”

“Your job as his manager or as his brother?”

“Both.”

“Right…” Emma said, shaking her head but not wanting to fight with this man over the fact that neither of those roles required going to such lengths. “Well you said you came because you had questions. Might as well ask them.”

“What are your intentions with my brother?” Liam said, pulling no punches as he dove right in.

“My intention is to see where this goes. I love him. He loves me. I’m hoping it’s forever, but it’s still new so I’m trying to manage my expectations.”

“And what about your career?” Liam asked, as if he was checking items off a list instead of bringing up what seemed like a totally irrelevant topic after Emma had just poured her heart out.

“My career?” she parroted, not following.

“Surely you realize being tied to my brother is a boost to you. People will know your name now, you’ll be on their radar, that means more work for you.”

“I was plenty busy before I started dating Killian,” Emma said, not liking the insinuation that she hadn’t hustled for every success she’d gotten so far. “Believe me when I say I’m not in this for the spotlight.”

“But can you handle it? Can you handle his life? Whether you want it or not, Killian’s fame isn’t going anywhere. Not while he’s still playing, and not for a long time thereafter. Things have been quiet while he’s been over here, but that’s not sustainable. If you’re not okay with that, what’s to say you won’t run when things get bad?”

“If you actually talked to your brother you’d know things have already been bad. But I’m still here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

“Gold’s a nasty piece of work,” Liam said, his commiserating tone surprising Emma as he continued on. “Killian was an idiot to provoke him, but that man is something else entirely.”

“Yeah, I’m not a fan,” Emma said, wondering if Liam knew about Gold’s currently imploding situation.

“I thought you were working for him,” Liam confessed and the accusation made Emma’s heart seize up. The thought was so repugnant to her she could feel her anger building, but Liam walked back the statement. “But I realized that assumption was incorrect when I gathered more intel. I should have trusted Killian’s instincts in that regard.”

“You talked to Killian?” Emma asked, now totally understanding why he had been avoiding his brother the past few days. She could only imagine how angry that would make him, because there was no way Killian ever would have believed her capable of that.

“I did. Maybe it was wrong of me to do so, but I thought it was best.”

“You were trying to protect him,” Emma acknowledged as Liam nodded.

“I was, but I’m glad he didn’t listen.”

“Seriously?” Emma asked, shocked to hear that, especially since the last few minutes had been nothing short of an interrogation.

“Yes. Despite everything Killian seems happier than I can ever remember him being. The reason for that is obvious – you mean the world to him. Much as it might not seem like it, that’s what I’ve always wanted for him. I thought the answer was in football, but it turns out there is more to life than the game after all.”

“Do you miss it?” Emma asked, reflecting on the brief overview Killian had given Emma of Liam’s history with the game. His brother had been playing for years, and even made it to the pros himself, but he was injured badly right around the time that their mother passed away. So instead of getting to be a big star, which Killian believed he would have been, Liam was a behind the scenes actor who lived in the orbit of the game without really playing.

“Sometimes. But I’ve never regretted my decision.”

“I’m sorry?” Emma’s tone was questioning though she didn’t exactly want to pry. “I thought you were injured and that you couldn’t play anymore.”

“I was hurt, yes, but not badly enough that I couldn’t have come back,” Liam admitted, looking at Emma with an expression that told her he hadn’t actually meant to confide in her like this. “Killian doesn’t know that. I never wanted him to know. I didn’t want him to think he was to blame or that I chose him over my own chance.”

“But you did,” Emma said with awe. She might not have gotten of on the best foot with Killian’s brother, but right now she was grateful for him in ways she couldn’t say. Losing his mother had been hard for Killian, but Liam being there as a constant had kept him going. Emma didn’t know what it would have been like if Liam continued playing. With the long times away and the hectic schedule… it would have been harder, that was for sure.

“I’ve been prouder to watch him succeed than I ever would have been at doing it myself. I might love the game, but he’s got a talent God only gives a handful of people. I couldn’t deny him his best chance, and I couldn’t deny the world the chance to see him either.”

“You should tell him,” Emma said, meaning it sincerely. “He’d want to know. You’re his big brother and he loves you.”

“Even when he hates me?” Liam joked and Emma chuckled.

“Even then. That’s how it goes with family, I think.”

“Well, if my brother has any say in it you’ll know all about family soon enough.”

Emma felt herself blush at the words. It was very like Killian to make a statement like that and just pretend it wasn’t a huge shock to the system. Emma wondered if he had learned that from Liam, or it if was another genetic quirk their family had. Either way, she didn’t get the chance to comment on it since the door swung open again and in walked Killian.

“Great news, love. The plane’s been grounded for weather. I’ve a few more hours before…” Killian trailed off as he took in the fact that Liam was here. Emma watched as he went from open and pleasant to immediately on his guard. He moved instinctively to Emma’s side, as if she needed protection before he addressed Liam. “What are you doing here, brother?”

“I came to apologize. To Emma and to you.”

“You did?” Killian asked, his question stilted as he seemed truly shocked. He looked to Emma and she nodded. “But you knew I wouldn’t be here.”

“Aye, I did. Call me a coward if you like, but I wanted a chance to see your girl first. It seemed a better plan to win her favor over before trying to gain yours back.”

“She’s not going anywhere, Liam. So you better be serious in what you’re saying. I love Emma, and I won’t see her mistreated. Not by anyone.”

Emma felt her heart clench in her chest as Killian took her hand in his, squeezing it and sending a wave of love through her that felt so right and so true. She felt her eyes growing misty at his strength and his devotion to her, but he didn’t need to worry. Liam was here for the right reasons, and despite a not so easy start, she knew it would all work out with her and Liam and between the two brothers as well.

“You don’t have to worry. I’ve gotten the missteps out of the way early. No need to make the same mistake twice.”

Emma looked to Killian, finding that he was still hesitant to receive his bother’s attempt at making peace. To keep him from fighting with himself any longer she pressed a kiss to his cheek and whispered her thoughts on the matter.

“Just listen to what he has to say. I promise it’ll be okay.”

“You can stay, love. I don’t have any secrets. Not from you,” Killian said, loud enough for Liam to hear and Emma chuckled but shook her head.

“No. You two need to do this alone. But I’ll be here. I’m not going anywhere.”

With that, Emma left the brothers together, giving them a whole half hour in each other’s company. Since she heard neither yelling nor screaming, she assumed all was well, and by the time she found them again they were all smiles. Good. Emma wanted to see Killian and his brother patch things up. It was the right thing to do, and instinct told her that Liam meant what he said. He would turn a new leaf, and hopefully, now that he saw Killian was happy and doing well on his own, he’d step back a little of that excess control.

“Emma, there you are,” Killian remarked, kissing her softly before pulling her to his side. “I was just telling Liam he should stick around LA for a while. It’s a nice city, once you get past the pomp and the frill.”

“And I told Killian that he likely only feels that way because he’s got a girl. From what I’ve seen so far, there’s smog and a lot of tacky tourists. I think I’m all set.”

“You’re heading back already?” Emma asked, surprised that the repair in their relationship wasn’t enough to keep Liam around.

“Probably for the best. I’ve got a bidding war to run, and it’ll be a bit easier if I’m the same time zone as the one’s making the offers,” Liam said as they moved towards the front door seeing him out.

“Not all of them,” Killian said and Emma noticed the nod between the two brothers before they exchanged a hug. When they parted Liam offered a hand to Emma, and she accepted, knowing they were making up now for their lackluster meeting before.

“Thank you, Emma. I can rest easy now knowing he’s well taken care of. I hope I’ll see you again soon.”

“You too,” Emma agreed, but as the door swung open and Liam was about to leave, he stopped short. Emma couldn’t see past him but she heard the reason – there was someone in the door wary

“Oh uh, hi - sorry. I think I have the wrong apartment.”

“Elsa?” Emma asked, stepping around Liam’s broad shoulders to see her friend standing there, her cheeks pink and her eyes completely fixated on Killian’s brother. It took longer than it should have for Elsa to look over to Emma, and when she did her blush only grew stronger. Interesting. Very interesting.

“Emma, there you are. I’m sorry to interrupt but -,”

“You didn’t. You’re perfect,” Liam said and now Emma’s mouth just dropped on open. Had he just said that? Mr. Cool Calm and Unaffected? Okay this was just too good.

“Bloody hell,” Killian whispered so only she could hear. “It’s happening. Oh how the mighty fall.”

“Uh, okay, thanks,” Elsa said as her fingers came up to shakily brush a strand of her hair that had fallen out of her braid behind her ear.

“I meant your timing,” Liam claimed, trying to cover his slip of tongue but failing completely. “I’m Liam. Liam Jones.”

“Oh you’re Killian’s brother,” Elsa said brightly, casting her gaze at Emma and Killian. “I’m Elsa, Emma’s friend.”

“Is everything all right, Els?” Emma asked, wanting to know why her friend had shown up here even is she was glad to see her.

“Totally, yeah,” Elsa said, still flustered as she looked back at Liam again before focusing on Emma. “I just finished up those last few movements you wanted done and I thought we should listen together in case there’s anything you want changed. I didn’t mean to interrupt family time. I -,”

“So you’re a musician too?” Liam asked, clearly desperate for any and all information on Elsa he could get and not minding that he had to interrupt her to get it. Killian started chuckling beside her and Emma let her own slip ever so briefly before she filled Liam in.  

“Elsa is a cellist. She’s actually first chair at the LA philharmonic.”

“Of course you are, you’re brilliant,” Liam said, completely forgetting himself again and Elsa looked shocked but still pleased at the same time.

“You’ve never even heard me play.”

“I don’t have to, love. Some things you just know.” Emma was struck by the fact that Killian had said something very similar to her not too long ago, and she watched as Elsa ate it up, just as Emma had when she was in her shoes. “Anyway, I won’t keep you ladies any longer. Goodbye, Emma.”

“Goodbye, Liam,” she said brightly, knowing Liam barely heard her.

“Until next time, lovely Elsa,” he said to Elsa, and as her friend watched him go with fascination, Liam headed down the hall to the elevator, leaving Emma, Killian, and Elsa watching after him.

“Bye brother,” Killian said, not loud enough for Liam to hear but enough so that Elsa and Emma did. Emma wanted to cave and break down every bit of that with Killian right now, but she gave him a look warning him that they had to wait until Elsa was gone.

“Right. I think I left something on the stove,” Killian said in what was the worst, most transparent excuse ever, but Emma loved him for it. When he was gone she looked back to her friend and shot her a questioning look.

“So that was… something.”

“Yeah,” Elsa replied, her voice barely more than a whisper. “I think it definitely was.” ...

Post-Note: So there we have it! Another chapter come and gone, and hopefully you guys feel like I’ve wrapped things up with Liam well. I also couldn’t help including a taste of Frozen Jewel (because I truly love that ship so much), and this will set us off into the home stretch of much more fluffy, laid-back story. There is more to come still (probably about two or three more chapters), but the updates will be slow still. I am juggling two multi-chapters and the mixtape all at once so it’s a lot, but not to worry. The rest of the story will come and I hope that when it does you will all enjoy it. Thanks again for reading and have a lovely rest of your day!

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