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mageofseven · 2 years ago

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When Heat Cools: A MephistoMC Love Story

Chapter 5

Taglist: @astroseuss @fcxyviixen @jar-of-moondust @marvelous-maniac @missloserqueen

A couple days passed. MC didn't hold that argument back at HoL against her boyfriend, but she also didn't want him anywhere near the brothers or vice versa.

Fair enough. The couple still spent plenty of time together at school.

The two received some looks from their fellow classmates. I mean, the arrogant nobleman and the human exchange student being all tender and affectionate around school? Oh boy, were a lot people losing bets and a few lucky bastards were racking in the dough on this day.

One day, Mephisto finally gained the courage to talk to his parents about the baby

And it went about as well as he expected.

"This is ridiculous!" His mother screeched. "You've been raised better than this, Mephistopheles!"

His mother was a tall woman, around 5'10 (~178cm) and shared her son's purple hair, but had eyes as dark as the Devildom's sky.

"Mother--

"You've embarrassed our family enough!" She chastised.

"I under--"

"Enough! Now just pay that little...pet of your off," She spoke in disgust, as if MC was some gross little stray her son found in an alley way. "And cut ties; your father and I will clean up the rest."

"I won't do that." Mephisto said strongly. "MC is--"

"Your mother worked tiredlessly to get you an engagement with Duke Bastien's daughter and this how you return her effort?" His father stared down at him coldy.

This man was an impressive 7'2 (~219cm) tall with dark, greying black hair and the same green eyes as his son.

Most are intimidated by his father's height, but what most don't is that Mephisto's mother, on average, is the real one to be afraid of.

"I never meant for her work to end up fruitless." He defended. "However I won't abandon my child--"

"It's a bastard." His mother corrected. "Your father a had few of them himself and dealt with them as any nobleman should; exactly how you should."

Mephisto flinched.

"I am not like Father."

"You could have fooled me..." The woman said bitterly.

"Lamia, can we not do this right now?" Her husband asked tiredly.

"I don't know, can you do something about your son then?"

The man sighed before turning back to his son, eyes steeling once more.

"You leave your mother and I no choice. If you refuse to cut ties with this human, we will be forced to disown you...or worse."

Mephisto's eyes widened.

In truth, he wasn't scared of being disowned. He knew damn well it was an empty threat. He knew his parents weren't going to get rid of him when he was nearly ready to help his father with work just to wait a few hundreds of years for his little brother to be old enough.

How ever...he knew exactly what 'or worse' meant and his parent knew that the meaning came across crystal clear

And so the young man felt powerless.

MC was breathing quickly and her heart raced in her chest till her vision went white and the world went silent.

Slowly, a scene formed in front of her. Translucent beings swirling through the air in some form of dance, their strange voices reverberating off one another and creating a strange but somewhat familiar melody.

Seemingly just as soon as it came, the swirl of dark and light beings left, returning the woman to her room.

She took a moment to focus on her breathing.

In truth...this wasn't the first time the pregnant woman has had such a strange experience. These... visions (?) have been happening on and off since she's been pregnant. She never told anyone though not even Mammon because it seemed as if when things like this happened to her, the best thing was to stay quiet about it.

I mean, think about it. When was the last time her head of was messed with? Back when Lilith was directing her to save Belphegor and the rest of the brothers.

Often, it just seemed like when her head was affected by a seemingly supernatural force to just stay quiet till she got her answers.

However, these were getting tiring and whatever or whoever were causing these were not leading her to any solid answers about what she was seeing so far and it's been three months already.

Her phone beeped.

Out front. We need to speak for a moment.

Mephisto?

MC rose from her bed and left her room before heading to the front of the house.

The nobleman was at the front door, his limo behind him.

She growned.

"Did you have to bring that thing?" She complained.

"That's not important." He waved her words away. "I need you to do something."

The woman raised an eyebrow.

Mephisto told his corazón a slightly censored version of his conversation with his parents and asked her to come to the castle with him.

In truth, the man had no power in his home against his own parents so he decided to try to hit them where it hurt--politics.

However, he cannot do it on his own. Obviously, he and Lord Diavolo are not as close as they were as children. MC, however, is an important friend of the prince's and so Dia would surely step in to help the both of them if it was a request of hers?

So the couple headed to the castle and was led to the prince's office by Barbatos.

The prince raised his eyebrows.

"My friends, what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

"Lord Diavolo...some issues have arisen and we are in dire need of your assistance." Mephisto explained.

"That...sounds quite urgent indeed." Dia looked to MC with a concerned look. "Are you alright?"

She hugged her small belly and leaned into her boyfriend for comfort.

"Kinda?" She answered, worried about the situation she and Mephisto were in. "Look, Mephisto and I are...kinda together--"

"I heard!" The prince smiled at her before his gaze traveled to the other man. "This is great news and especially great personal growth on your part, my old friend."

"I...thank you, my lord."

"That's not it though!" MC interrupted, tearing up slightly. "I'm...I'm pregnant and his parents are upset and we aren't sure what to do..."

"My parents said they will disown me or worse," Mephisto emphasized those last words. "If I don't abandoned MC and marry Duke Bastien's daughter."

Diavolo's eyes darkened. The human may not know, but both men in the room knew what the 'worse' his parents spoke of was. A last resort when noble parents don't get their way; they put a hit out on the person their child is breaking the rules for.

Essentially, Mephisto's parents are threatening to hire an assassin to kill MC simply for carrying their son's baby, a baby he refuses to abandon.

Neither man will explain this out loud though. No, the mother-to-be had enough to worry about; best to let her in-laws' lethal plans not be one of them.

"I understand." Diavolo nodded in seriousness. "I will lean on them, let them know I am watching and that no...'accidents' will be overlooked."

"Thank you, my lord."

The human was quite confused about what the prince meant, but it seemed as it he had things covered so...that's good?

"Now," Dia clapped his hands and smiled. "Enough of all those stressful things. How about joining me for some tea in the garden?"

MC sighed and relaxed her shoulders before looking up at Mephisto.

"Can we stay for tea? Please?"

In truth...considering his past with the prince, the nobleman would rather not. However, he is in no position to refuse now that MC has asked him so sweetly.

Well...tea it is.

#obey me #obey me otome #obey me mc #mephistopheles x mc #obey me mephisto x mc #obey me mephistopheles x mc #obey me mephistopheles #obey me diavolo

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purpleyoonn · 3 years ago

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Petrichor 14 Preview

P E T R I C H O R

Petrichor /ˈpeˌtrīkôr/ (noun)

“a pleasant smell that frequently accompanies the first rain after a long period of warm, dry weather.”

Summary: You had been working at Bangtan Corporation for almost two years now, and not once have you ever laid eyes on your bosses. That was, until you met them when out with some of your coworkers. Now, you almost wish you hadn’t. Almost.

Pairing: CEO BTS x Chubby MC

Genre: werewolf au, ceo au, soulmate, polyamory relationship, angst, fluff, omegaverse, a/b/o dynamics

Warnings: smut, violence, mentions of knotting, heats, ruts, workplace discrimination, fat phobia, sexism, insecurities,

Some warnings may be added to the beginning of individual chapters.

Will be updated every other Saturday at 5pm PST

Masterlist // Taglist

COMING SATURDAY, OCTOBER 29TH: 5PM PST

————————————————-

You spent some time making sure you had enough marinade for the amount of steak Jungkook grabbed for you, knowing that the boys have large appetites. You ended up having to triple your recipe, but you were more than glad you had enough to do so. While the steak was marinading for a couple hours, you worked on making the pasta from scratch, one of your favorite cooking activities.

Turning on one of your playlists on your phone, you grabbed the olive oil, eggs, flour, and salt. You sing along as you work, mixing the eggs and the flour until you got yourself a ball of dough. Separating it into four smaller squares, you let that sit covered in plastic wrap.

You were at the sink washing your hands when a pair wrapped around your waist, their front flush against you as a small kiss was placed on your nape. Looking down, you saw the tattoos moving up Jungkook’s hand until they stopped underneath his sleeve.

“I thought you said I could help you.” He had a little whine to his words, making you smile at his tactics.

“Oh you stop it. I didn’t know if you were home or not.” Jungkook grinned as you spoke, making it seem like you were calling their home your home. He loved the sound of it. Loved the idea of coming home to you.

“Well, I am! So, my beautiful and amazing mate, I am at your service for the rest of the day.” Jungkook exclaimed as he turned you around, looking down at you with his mischievous grin.

“Oh… I think I like the sound of that.” You grin back, your hand going up to run through his hair as he grips your waist tighter. However, before anything can go further, you push him away with a teasing slap to his chest.

After the dough was ready, you had instructed Jungkook on how to do the noodles, flattening them out with the rolling pin before placing them through the handpress so the noodles would come out well.

He seemed to be doing well enough; the boys would definitely know the food was made with love. You could just hear him giggling and making sound effects for everything, making you laugh yourself. He had even thrown some left over flour at you, once he heard you laughing.

“Hiyah!” He made an elaborate hand gesture, one you recognized from the movie as he flung some flour at your head. You couldn’t help it and lunged for the flour, flinging some back at the alpha.

“Two can play at this game.” You grinned, more flour in your hand as you go to throw more, loud giggles leaving the alphas lips as he watches you.

“What are you doing in my kitchen?!” Jungkook and you turn your heads over to the entrance of the kitchen, where your two eldest mates stand still, watching the scene unfold. Your eyes widen at being caught, but then you realize they were home.

“Don’t worry, I’ll clean it up! But you two have to get out! We are making a surprise dinner for everyone.” You put on the puppy dog eyes, knowing that it would be hard to keep them out.

Jin’s mouth was wide open, staring at you in shock, kicking him out of his own kitchen. He began spluttering, going from asking why he had to leave to wanting to know if he could help. He wasn’t used to others being in the kitchen, and he saw the way Jungkook was passing the dough through the noodle hand press, making him nervous.

“Nope!” You shook your head, moving forward and placing a quick kiss on Jin’s lips, your arms already pushing him by the chest until he was out of the kitchen. When you turned back around, Yoongi was standing by the grill, leaning over it.

“Hey! That means you too!” You rush over, tugging him by the back of his jacket. Yoongi grunts at your actions, his gummy smile on his face as he lets you drag him out. Jungkook just waves enthusiastically at them, noodles waving in the air as he does so.

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wondernus · 4 years ago

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12: We're on a boat!

pairing: professor!seungcheol x baker!reader sm au

chapter genre: fluff

chapter warnings: cursing, mentions of food and TONS of alcohol (it’s new year’s eve)

wc: 2.1k

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“Minghao, that was disgusting,” you grimaced at the aftertaste the alcohol left in your mouth, passing your empty shot glass back to your friend. The ten of you were crowded around Seungkwan’s car in the parking lot by the dock, pregaming before heading onto the yacht for the New Year’s celebration event. Vernon and Chan dropped some of you off earlier and immediately drove away after seeing Minghao’s usually calm aura change into a rather sinister one. The World Literature professor had somehow been able to sneak a bottle of kaoliang liquor and some shot glasses in the inner pocket of his blazer and was currently getting everybody in your group to finish the entire bottle before going in.

All of you were at least three drinks in, and you didn’t know if it was the alcohol talking or the fact that you were surrounded by the people you loved, but you were having a great time. The boys were clumped together on the dancefloor, Seungkwan and DK having an intense dance battle while Wonwoo laughed and clapped from behind. The rest of the boys had their arms around each other and swayed to the beat of the music, singing at the top of their lungs. You and Hoshi were sitting at the bar within eye distance of the boys, both harboring a glass of iced water in your hands. Seungkwan’s motherly instincts immediately went into full effect after his drunk radar went off after seeing you and Hoshi try to leave your group a few times hand-in-hand to dance battle strangers around you. He decided to put you two in “time-out” for the next few minutes. However, when a familiar beat came on, Seungkwan and Seokmin started shouting for Hoshi to join them, the “time-out” rule completely forgotten. The man sitting beside you hesitated for a minute before turning to you with pleading eyes and a pout. You nodded for him to go, and he immediately jumped off of his barstool to run to the group, not before hugging you and shouting, “You know where to find us, right?” to which you shouted back it was pretty hard to lose the group when the three tallest men in the club belonged to your group. Soon the trio was screaming the lyrics to their favorite song while an all familiar “Go Soonyoung. Go Soonyoung. Go Soonyoung” filled the air. You sat and smiled at the rowdy group.

Unfortunately, the water wasn’t working because the longer you sat on the barstool, the drunker you got. You winced at the brightness of your phone screen and immediately regretted not setting your phone to night mode. Vernon was updating you on his pancake adventure with Chan and the baby. Your stomach growled at the sight of the stacks of pancakes, and you suddenly had an urge to buy the overpriced food they were selling above deck. Just then, someone tapped you on your shoulder, and you turned around to see a very familiar face you haven’t seen in a while.

“Dr. Yoon?” you were definitely drunk. There was no way he was here. Have you manifested the image of him for so long that he would literally show up when you least expected?

“Oh yn!” he was grinning while holding two paper trays filled with fries. “You want some fries?”

It turned out Dr. Yoon, who reintroduced himself as Jeonghan, lost his friend a while back while buying fries and spent the last few minutes walking around, trying to convince the random people around him to take his extra tray of fries. It never really occurred to him that people usually wouldn’t accept food from strangers, especially at clubs, until you told him. The two of you managed to drunkenly run to one of the booths at the side and snag it immediately after it cleared up. Even more so, Jeonghan spent the last few minutes catching up with you and feeding you the greasy fries while you desperately tried to sober up - your whole upper half leaned against him like he was your life support. He repeatedly reassured you and said that he found it cute, but you only felt more embarrassed. You were never going to pregame with Minghao ever again. Kaoliang liquor was dangerous.

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“Dude, I can’t believe we lost yn,” Seungcheol was going to have a mental breakdown, which, by the way, was definitely not a good feeling to have when drunk. He recalled sitting you and Hoshi down at the bar and keeping an eye on you two before blacking out after Minghao and Jun returned to the group with another round of shots. The next thing he knew, he was sitting on one of the sofas on the deck of the yacht, the other boys sprawled out next to him, the cold ocean breeze cool against his skin.

“Did we miss the countdown?” Jun rubbed his eyes and shoved Hoshi’s sleeping body off of his. Wonwoo shook his head letting him know that they didn’t miss the countdown.

Woozi approached the group with a grin on his face. There was a man walking alongside him who seemed to be his acquaintance. “Guys,” Woozi addressed the group, causing the men to groan and look up at him, “This is my coworker, Joshua.”

His friend waved at the group and his eyes widened in excitement after realizing who was in front of him, “Dude, you never told me you were friends with the Twitter dilfs.”

Accepting Joshua into the group was fairly easy. He also lost his friend who came with him and spent the last half hour wandering around the yacht before he bumped into Woozi who was in line for the restroom. He reassured Seungcheol that his yn friend he was continuously calling for was going to be fine because everybody in their friend group had yn’s location and what was yn going to do? Swim? Luckily, yn texted Mingyu earlier and told him that they were fine, and Seungcheol sighed in relief. The boys quickly accepted Joshua into the group after Woozi told him to buy them all a round of shots to which Joshua replied, “Who do you think I am? The next three rounds are on me,” garnering an eruption of cheers from his new friends.

Just like that, they were back on the dancefloor ten minutes before the countdown, blackouts and hangovers completely forgotten, drunker than ever. They made a last-minute plan to ditch the dancefloor and celebrate the new year on the ship's deck after being pushed by a mob of people in all directions. They were practically a fresh and unbroken set of pool balls waiting for someone to start the match at that point. The fresh air they felt was a great complement to their sweaty skin, and it was nice to not need to shout at others while the bass from the speakers constantly reverberated in their ears. There were still a few minutes left until the countdown. Seungkwan, Seokmin, and Soonyoung were still gone after previously stating that they needed to use the restroom together. In the distance, Mingyu, Jun, and Joshua, who left to take pictures, all let out a collective scream and jumped up and down in excitement.

“I can’t believe it finally happened.”

“You too? We’ve been rooting for them since the first pineapple bun.”

Before Seungcheol could turn around to look at what caused the commotion, Jihoon made a joke about daring Soonyoung to jump overboard and was immediately lectured by Wonwoo who dragged Seungcheol along with him. An announcement blared through the speakers that the countdown would start in a minute and the bakery boys yelled at the rest of the group to join them.

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10! Seungkwan, Seokmin, and Soonyoung managed to return to the group just in time, but not without a tray of free tequila shots from the different patrons around them. Apparently, the people around them really enjoyed their company, whether it was when they were tearing it up on the dance floor or whether it was when they were joking with those waiting in the long line for the restroom. Jun looked at the shots with so much fear in his eyes while Minghao patted him on his back.

9! Jeonghan and you also spent the last hour receiving free drinks from those around you left and right.

“People must be very generous tonight,” you thought out loud.

“Yeah, I definitely haven’t been telling them that we’re newly engaged,” Jeonghan winked at you.

The both of you were standing on the deck of the superyacht, leaning against the railing. The captain dropped the yacht's anchor a while back when the yacht reached a place where one could turn back to see the twinkling lights coming from docks and piers from the ocean. The yacht gently rocked with the waves, and you were happily wrapped in Jeonghan’s arms, your drunkness a now numb and tingly sensation. The two of you were staring at the ocean and admiring how pretty the night sky was on that particular day. You didn’t see it, but he was smiling at you like you were the greatest thing in the world – like the feeling of biting into a freshly baked chocolate chip cookie, the edges crispy and the center gooey, both the chocolate and dough melting into one.

8! Seokmin handed Seungcheol a shot.

7! Mingyu complained about there being no lime and salt.

6! Seungcheol heard a familiar laugh that made him forget about his surroundings for a split second.

5! Wonwoo put his arm around Seungcheol’s shoulder.

4! Jeonghan spun you around to face him.

3! Seokmin accidentally took his shot early.

2! Seungkwan quickly slipped his shot into the older boy’s hand and took the empty glass before the rest of the group took notice to what happened. It was fine. He was the designated driver after all.

1! The crowd erupted in cheers, and the group clinked their glasses and tilted their heads back to take their shots. Fireworks lit up the sky in a multitude of vibrant colors. Jun was busy yelling, “Chase with a smile. Chase with a smile,” at those who were complaining about the lack of lime and salt. Soonyoung was trying to hug Jihoon, who kept pushing him away until he finally gave in. It was a new year; he would allow it just once. Seungkwan was in the middle of recording a video of the group with his flash on which resulted in him accidentally blinding Seungcheol for a split second. This caused Seungcheol to turn away from the group to try to blink the dizziness away. When he finally recuperated, he couldn’t help but stare at the scene in front of him.

“Oh my god,” Seungcheol groaned, “I’m so glad we made the sexiling rule. They were literally sucking each other’s faces off. It was disgusting.”

Joshua raised his eyebrow at him. He also saw what happened. “Dude are you ok?” he questioned. “All they did was kiss once.”

The rest of the group quickly turned to see what Seungcheol was talking about and immediately burst into excitement when they realized who they were looking at. You broke away from Jeonghan and buried your face in his chest to hide in embarrassment when you recognized the group of voices calling your name. The man beside you jokingly covered you with his blazer to hide you when he realized you were flustered. It was a really cute and sweet sight, and it was custom to kiss someone on New Year’s. So why did seeing you kiss someone else make Seungcheol feel so annoyed?

the kids are going to be alright

synopsis: life as we know it (2010 film) au | when an unexpected accident leaves you and your blind date from five years ago to become caretakers of your mutual goddaughter, you are forced to learn how to navigate parenthood all while trying to balance work and social life.

a/n: join the taglist!

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taglist: @seokcalibur, @skylions-den, @semicolorn, @boowanie, @niikipuff, @serenadesvt, @tfmingyu, @jeonjungkaka, @shiningstar-byulxx, @onigiriyuki, @justasoftstan, @fr0gluver, @fairyjius, @happyvitamin, @noniesgirl, @hanniewife, @amymoonl, @melkwhore

unable to tag: @fairyjius, @hanniewife

#seventeen social media au #seventeen sm au #svt smau #scoups x reader #seungcheol x reader #scoups fluff #scoups angst #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fake texts

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marjansmarwani · 4 years ago

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safe place to land

4.7k || ao3 • Chapter 1/2

Carlos was having the day from hell and he just wanted to talk to his boyfriend about it. Unfortunately, said boyfriend was currently missing and all Carlos could do was worry about him, or find him. But it really wasn’t a choice: he would always come for TK, no matter what.

a.k.a Carlos and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day (a 2x08 coda)

Absolutely huge shout out to @officereyes who not only helped me come up with the idea but also helped me with a lot of the plot points. And also to max for talking me through the finer points of concussions, but that will be more relevant in chapter 2 (which will be up Friday, probably).

Anyways, Carlos may have gotten the screen time he deserved in the last episode but I am still going to give him more anyways, because I can. Title is from “Honest Man” by Ben Platt.

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Carlos avoided eye contact with everyone as he exited the precinct. He could feel their stares: some sympathetic, some judgmental. He knows they all know. He knew that it had been the talk of the precinct in the hours he had been confined to the interrogation room. He knew they all had an opinion on it, and he was pretty sure he knew what most of them were saying.

He didn’t have to guess what his father thought, at least. That was made perfectly clear.

He stepped through the doors of the precinct with a sigh of relief, feeling like he had just run the gauntlet. The bright afternoon sunlight threw him even more, it should have been dark when he left today. It’s another reminder of how far from usual this all is, of how much his world has been rocked by one split-second decision. Of how much that one decision could cost him.

He climbed into his car with a weary sigh, resting his head in his hands as he took a deep, measured breath. His world was falling apart around him; everything he had worked for was crumbling like dominos set off by one act of compassion. He just wanted to forget it all, but that wasn’t possible. He didn’t want to dwell on Mitchell’s outright disapproval or her cold silence on the way back to the precinct. He would give almost anything to never have to relive the stern looks of his superiors, the shame of being asked to hand over his badge and gun. Most of all he would give anything to forget the look of disappointment in his father’s eyes, so convinced that he had been right about his son, that Carlos needed saving now from himself.

He lifted his head and looked back at the precinct, the crushing feeling of shame pressing on him from all sides. He had possibly ruined everything all because he wanted to see the best in someone. He wanted to believe he hadn’t been taken advantage of, that he hadn’t been naive and fallen for a well-rehearsed sob story, but it was getting harder and harder to cling to that hope by the second. Maybe his dad was right. Maybe he had always been right. Maybe Carlos wasn’t cut out to be a cop after all.

He was pulled out of his spiral by the feeling of his phone vibrating in his jacket pocket. He pulled it out to see a text from TK: a simple confirmation that he had made it to the station. Just that momentary distraction was enough to interrupt his cascading anxious thoughts, to pull him back to reality. Nothing had been decided yet, he reminded himself. It may not be as bad as it all seems.

He wasn’t sure what was going to happen, but he did know who he needed to talk to. So he started his car and pulled out of the parking lot, heading to the firehouse and the one person who could always talk him out of his own head.

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TK hadn’t been at the firehouse when Carlos arrived, which shouldn’t have surprised him as much as it did. Why should he have expected anything to go right today?

Instead, he had had what was possibly his longest one-on-one conversation with his boyfriend’s father over green smoothies and had managed to spill all of his problems to the older man within a matter of minutes. He hadn’t really been meaning to tell him about getting suspended and he had definitely not intended to discuss his tense relationship with his father, but something had snapped in his mind it seemed and he no longer had the ability to keep these things bottled up. Maybe it was something about the firehouse — Carlos had always felt welcome there, comfortable even. Maybe that had been enough to lower his guard. Maybe it was simply the kind face of Owen Strand. For all the problems he knew TK had been having with his dad lately and for all the reservations Carlos personally had about the other man, there was no denying that Captain Strand was an empathetic soul, when he allowed himself to be.

Maybe it was simply a matter of the walls of his mind being battered for too long — worn more and more with each passing day — that this newest addition to fears and insecurities he kept so fiercely guarded was one too many and had forced his defenses to finally break. If that was the case he supposed he should consider himself lucky. At least it had been with someone he knew and trusted instead of a random passerby or grocery store clerk.

Whatever the reason, it had helped. Owen’s words had helped to ease his worry and return some of his confidence to him. He had felt much better about it all, until his father had called.

He had left the firehouse with a promise from Owen that he would tell TK he had stopped by before heading back to the precinct, once again ignoring the stares of his coworkers and trying to not feel affected by the indignity of needing an escort to head to the conference room. For a moment, he thought it would be alright. His dad was there and the man he had seen earlier was sitting on the other side of the glass. He had corroborated Carlos’s story, everything he had told them proved that Carlos’s instincts were correct and his actions justified. For a moment he thought everything was fine, but he was wrong. His dad still didn’t believe in him. He still thought that Carlos was a liability, that he was too soft to do the job.

He didn’t say it, but Carlos had spent a lifetime reading between the lines of his dad’s words.

Maybe it was exhaustion or frustration hitting the boiling point. Maybe he was bolstered by Owen’s words from early, by the unwavering faith his boyfriend’s father had in him that his own father couldn’t manage to replicate, but Carlos was done hiding things. He told his dad exactly what he thought, and then he left. He stormed out of the precinct and got right into his car before driving home.

He barely wasted a moment when he stepped through his front door, only pausing long enough to shed his coat and drop his keys into the dish by the door before he entered his kitchen, pulling open cupboards in search of the ingredients he needed. Cooking had always calmed him, it had always been a way to manage his stress and ease his mind. He desperately needed some of that today.

He paused for a moment before he made up his mind, crossing to the rarely used cupboard above the fridge. He opened it and pulled out the pasta press that lived there, always present but hardly ever used because while he may love the result of handmade pasta it took far more time than he usually had to spare.

It seemed he had plenty of it today, however. Maybe even for the foreseeable future. Besides, he needed something to take his mind off everything that had happened today and desperate times called for desperate measures.

He mixed the eggs, flour, oil, and salt together in a large bowl as he let his mind wander. He still needed to tell TK about all of this, he realized. In all of their ins and out today, they kept missing each other. It wasn’t something he wanted to do over a text or a phone call though, so it would have to wait until he was here. Carlos assumed he would come here after his shift — he did, more often than not — but he paused in his mixing long enough to grab his phone. Dinner tonight? he typed into their text thread, followed by the pasta emoji. He received a “sounds great!” and a thumbs up in return and felt a smile return to his face. At least with TK coming for dinner, he was guaranteed to have at least one good part of this day.

He returned to the task at hand, pulling the beginnings of the dough out of the bowl and placing it on the counter where he started kneading it. He still couldn’t believe everything that had transpired today. When he had left this morning the possibility of running into a suspected bank robber strapped to a bomb and getting suspended had never even crossed his mind. Nor had getting the confirmation that his dad didn't believe in him, but here he was.

He hit the dough a little harder, the look of grim acceptance in his father’s eyes flashing through his mind once again. He loved his father and he knew that his father loved him; that had never been a question. But there was a difference between loving someone and believing in them, and that was the gray area he and his father existed in. He had always known, deep down. He knew that his father thought he felt things too strongly, that he was too emotional to do the job. That he was a naive bleeding heart waiting for the next lost cause to come around the corner. The worst part was that in so many ways, he was right. Carlos did care too much, he did always strive to see the best in people. He had never seen that as a weakness. Clearly, his father felt otherwise.

He finished kneading with a sigh, wrapping the dough up in plastic wrap and setting it to rest on the counter as he turned to the cutting board full of vegetables and herbs waiting to be chopped for the sauce. He picked up the knife and started in on the garlic, letting his mind wander once again. His father hadn’t been the only one to show outright disappointment in him today, but that had been less surprising. That didn't change the fact that it had stung. These were people he worked beside on a daily basis, some for years. They were the people he was supposed to trust with his life.

Generally, he did. He didn’t think that they were bad people or that they would ever not have his back in the field. He had always known that in many cases, they saw the world around them in different ways, but he had never expected it to become a problem quite in the way it has. He couldn’t pretend that the look of disappointment from his Captain — someone he had admired for years — hadn’t stung.

He was snapped back to the task at hand when his knife slipped and a curse was torn from his lips by the sharp pain of a cut across his thumb. He pulled his hand away quickly, placing his other hand under it to prevent the blood from dripping onto the food as he crossed to the sink. He ran it under water and examined it. It was long and crossed the knuckle which would make it hurt like hell, but it didn’t look too deep, thankfully. He would wrap it for now and TK could look at it when he got home. Which wasn’t strictly necessary, but he knew his boyfriend would insist. Becoming a paramedic had only increased that particular inclination. Not that Carlos could say he particularly minded; it made TK feel better and Carlos was never one to deny his boyfriend anything that would put his mind at ease.

He made quick work of bandaging his hand before putting on some music and returning to the task at hand. He tossed the vegetables in the pan to simmer and begin to form a sauce while he turned his attention to the dough. He tried not to dwell on the disaster that today had been as he rolled it out. Instead, he tried to let himself get lost in the process, threading the dough through the press carefully and laying the fresh pasta on a paper towel next to the stove. He checked on the sauce next to find that it had come together nicely and lowered the burner to keep it warm while he waited. He busied himself setting the table, throwing himself into putting together a far more elaborate table than was necessary for a Monday night in the interest of giving himself something to do that would silence all the doubts and questions in his head.

At one point he glanced at the clock on the stove and frowned. TK should have been here by now. He grabbed his phone and sent out a quick text before returning to his project. It wasn’t until he had done every single thing he could think of without hearing the familiar sound of keys in the door that he started to worry. He grabbed his phone again, leaning against the counter as he tapped the name at the top of his recent calls. It rang for what seemed like an eternity before TK’s voicemail answered.

“Hey,” he said into the phone, “I was just wondering if you were on your way here. You’re running later than usual so I figured I’d check, but I guess you’re still on a call or something. Just give me a call when you get this, I guess?”

He hung up the phone after that, settling at the counter with a glass of wine as he waited. He managed about 20 minutes before he tried calling again only to get his voicemail, again. It had been almost an hour and he was officially worried. He said as much in a text, anxiously staring at his phone hoping for those three dots to appear. They didn’t and Carlos finally caved, getting up from the counter and crossing over to the table where he blew out the candles before turning off the stove and grabbing his coat.

The last thing his mind needed tonight was something else to worry about, but this was a fear that hit differently. This was one that no amount of pasta making could soothe away. So he grabbed his keys and stepped out into the night, heading off to find answers and hopefully his errant boyfriend.

--------------

Just like that all the anxiety and fear he had felt since the call with the unwilling bank robber seemed so trivial, all it took was a few words from Grace and the sight of some bloody rags in a van. TK was in danger: real, horrifying, life or death danger, and not one of the things that had been weighing on him all day was enough to top that. All day he had felt weighed down with worry, had been dealing with his anxiety eating away at him. But this fear, this tangible threat to the person he loved more than anyone else engulfed him; constantly pressing on him from all sides. There was no escaping this one. No amount of cooking or wine would make this go away. The only thing that could make him feel better, that would let him breathe easier again would be finding TK safe and unharmed.

Carlos could tell that Owen was having a similar dilemma beside him as they drove to the parking garage in tense silence. He wasn’t sure what had been worse: his own hesitant worry and the nagging feeling that something was wrong being confirmed, Owen’s typically ironclad composure slowly cracking before his eyes, or Gwyn’s outright fear. For some reason, he thought it was Gwyn.

He had gotten to know her well since her arrival in Austin: first as TK healed and she tended to him and then later as he spent time around the Strand house. He had come to know her as someone unflappable. He had seen her excuse herself in the middle of lunch to ream out the head of a major corporation over the phone about a stupid decision he had made that could put him in danger of breaching a contract and turn back to their previous conversation without missing a step. He had never imagined he would see her even close to losing her composure, ever. But he had almost seen it in the entryway to the house, her fear for her son and the guilt that she might have had a part in it pushing her towards the edge. She had seemed calmer when they left, closer to the steady woman Carlos had come to know, but she didn’t know what was really happening. If she did, he doubted she would be so calm.

TK needed to be okay, Carlos decided as he glanced back at Owen who was clutching the steering wheel far more tightly than necessary. His safety and well-being was far too important to too many people — Carlos included. Losing his job and disappointing his father was one thing, losing TK was entirely another, and it was something Carlos never wanted to face. Especially not like this.

He anxiously ran his bandaged thumb over TK’s sobriety chip as they drove. He wondered how scared TK must have been to willingly part with it. It was a representation of everything he had worked for, it was something he was so proud of. For him to leave it as a breadcrumb, with no possible guarantee it would ever be found or that he would ever see it again, he must have been terrified and that thought more than anything else filled Carlos with dread. He wanted to say he was sure about this, but the reality was that he wasn't sure at all. It was merely a desperate hope, but if there was even a chance he could find TK he was going to take it.

The truck carried them closer and closer to their destination in complete silence as the two men sat engrossed in their own thoughts, but Carlos was pretty sure he knew what they both were thinking: TK needed to be okay. No other option was acceptable.

---------------

TK had been whisked off for an exam and scans the moment the ambulance arrived, leaving Carlos in the waiting room. He had barely taken a seat before his phone had started ringing and it was at that moment that he realized the rest of the 126 crew had no idea that anything had even been wrong. Anxious calls from both Marjan and Paul later told him that the rest of the crew had no idea what had happened, until they saw it on the news. They had gotten the gist from the news report and had seen footage of TK being loaded into an ambulance and they were concerned, to say the least.

Once Carlos had been allowed back to see him he snapped a photo of a miserable, bandaged TK trying for a smile as proof of life and put it in the group chat with a promise that once he was discharged and feeling a little more steady, they could come over and harass him for managing to find so much trouble. He read their responses to TK as they waited for the doctor to come by with the results of his scans, running a soothing hand up and down his arm the entire time.

That’s how TK’s parents find them, arriving at the hospital after Owen went back to pick Gwyn up and actually explain to her what happened. Carlos is sure it had been a fun conversation, judging by the tense looks on both their faces when they entered the room, but any tension on Gwyn’s face melted the moment she saw her son.

“Oh, honey,” she said softly, eyes filling with tears as she crossed to the side of the bed. Carlos moved from his spot by TK without a word and slipped into the chair at the side of the room, giving TK’s parents some room to be with him. There were quiet words and whispered affections between mother and son as Owen hovered at the foot of the bed, watching them fondly. Eventually the dynamic shifted to something closer to their usual when Gwyn pulled a container out of her purse.

“Really Mom?” TK asked with a dubious look, “where did you even get that?”

“We stopped on the way,” Owen explained, “she insisted.” He must have caught Carlos’s puzzled look because he explained, “Matzo ball soup.”

Carlos grinned even as TK tried to roll his eyes, but broke off with a hiss of pain. All eyes turned to him anxiously but he gave them a small smile, “I’m fine, I just tried to move my head too much.”

“And I still fail to see how your soup is going to help heal that,” Owen quipped to Gwyn, who glared at him. The pair started into their usual banter as TK did his best to follow along while obediently eating the soup his mother had handed to him. Carlos watched the whole scene with a fond smile, even as he kept a watchful eye on TK. His boyfriend caught his eye at one point and gave him a soft smile before being pulled back into his parents’ conversation. Eventually, Owen and Gwyn left and it was just TK and Carlos again.

“Why are you still over there?” TK asked him before the door had even fully closed behind his parents. “Don’t make me come to you.”

Carlos chuckled and crossed the room, sliding back into his spot on the bed, and leaned down to press a soft kiss at the edge of the bandages, “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He leaned back then to study him more closely. His face was drawn and pale and there was no denying that he was in pain but considering everything, he looked okay. “How do you feel?” he asked him, resting a hand on his arm, “really?”

“I am in a lot of pain, but I’m fine, really. It could have been much worse, considering everything.”

Carlos swallowed and the hand resting on TK’s arm squeezed tighter, “yeah, it could have been.”

It was the thought that had kept him company in the waiting room as he had fielded calls from their friends and as he had sat off to the side as TK’s parents had had their time with him. It could have been so much worse, it nearly had been. From what he had heard at the scene and put together since there were a thousand ways it could have gone wrong and a hundred that could have taken TK away from him. He had known he loved the other man for months now, he had long since realized what an integral part of his life he had become. But never in any of that time had he come quite as close to the possibility of losing him for good as he had today and it terrified him.

But TK didn’t need that on his mind so he said nothing. Instead, he asked, “Any word on how long you’ll have to be off work?”

“No,” TK griped, “but I would imagine it would be at least a week or two.”

Carlos hummed sympathetically, “Well, if there was one good thing to come out of today it’s that I’ll at least have plenty of time to spend with you while they clear this whole suspension mess up.”

Now TK was looking at him sharply, “Suspension? What do you mean? Carlos, did you get suspended?”

At his nod, TK’s eyes widened, “How? What happened?”

“It wasn’t a big deal. Well, it isn’t anymore, I guess. Turns out those two guys that kidnapped you also kidnapped a man this morning and forced him to rob a bank with a bomb strapped to his neck for encouragement. And I let him go because he said they would kill him and I believed him.”

“And you got suspended for that?”

“Well I did let a man who had just robbed several thousand dollars from a bank go, TK.”

“Still,” TK said petulantly and Carlos grinned at his unwavering defense of him.

“It’s okay,” he told him, “I think it’s going to be fine. It turns out I was right and your dad and I did help to find the bank robbers so my dad thinks…”

“Wait, your dad was there?”

“The bank robberies were his case. He was the one sent to investigate me too.”

“Carlos, baby. That’s...so much,” TK gave him a sympathetic look and shifted their hands so he was squeezing Carlos’s. “Are you okay?”

“I am,” he told him with more certainty than he had felt about anything all day, “because you’re safe and that is all I need. Everything else is just extra.”

TK smiled at him but didn’t look convinced, “Are you sure?”

“It was an awful day even before I knew you were missing,” he admitted. “Earlier today I thought I had ruined everything. But almost losing the person I love most put some things in perspective, I think. We’re together and as long as that’s true, I have faith that everything will work out one way or the other.”

TK smiled at him and they lapsed into comfortable silence before Carlos realized he still had one more bit of news to share.

“There’s something else we’re going to have to do too, when you’re feeling up to it,” Carlos told him.

“Are you going to be mysterious and make me guess with a severe concussion or…?” TK asked pointedly after a pause, and Carlos chuckled.

“We’re going to have to find some time to go to my parents’ house for dinner,” he informed TK. “They want to meet you properly.”

“Your parents,” TK began, eyes wide, “did you tell your dad about us?”

“Actually, I didn’t have to. Apparently they have known about us since they ran into us at the market. But,” he admitted, “if they didn’t know before they would have after tonight. I couldn’t take my eyes off you the whole time, even when talking to my dad. Guess I’m not exactly subtle when it comes to you. That and,” he paused, fishing around in his pocket before offering up TK’s one year chip, “I asked him if we could keep this out of evidence, as a favor for me.”

TK took the chip reverently, turning it over slowly in his hands, “I can’t believe you actually found it,” he admitted, “I was hoping you would and I left it on the off chance, but I never actually thought…” he trailed off, raising his eyes to meet Carlos’s gaze, “you’re amazing, you know that?”

“Not nearly as amazing as you,” he countered. “Have I told you yet today how proud I am of you?”

TK smiled but any response was cut off by a yawn. “You need sleep,” Carlos reminded him, “we can talk about everything later.”

He went to slide off the bed, but a hand on his wrist stopped him. He looked over at TK to see him looking at him incredulously, “Where you think you’re going, Carlos Reyes?”

“Off your bed,” he replied, “so you can sleep?”

“Not likely,” TK countered, “I have been kidnapped, held at gunpoint and pistol whipped today. I deserve to share a bed with my boyfriend at the very least.”

“But,” Carlos spluttered, “you’re hurt, and the bed’s not really big and…”

“All I’m hearing are excuses Carlos and excuses will not be tolerated. Get in here.”

Carlos sighed but obeyed, kicking off his shoes and he carefully slid into the space TK had left open for him, “The nurses are going to be in to check on you throughout the night,” he reminded him, “we’re going to get in trouble.”

“No we won’t,” TK assured him, “we’re too adorable.”

“You are such a brat,” Carlos noted with a chuckle, placing a kiss on the top of his head as he got settled beside him.

“And you love it.”

“I do,” Carlos assured him softly, “and I will always come for you.”

“I know you will,” TK responded even as his breathing evened and his eyes started to close, “and I never doubted it for a second.”

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #carlos reyes #tarlos fic #my writing #tuserjamie #tuserpaige #usermaximus #userjilly #userkimmy #userac #userbones #jazzyjess #immortalstrand #hierophvnts #maizsnex #buckybarnesalways #reyeslonestartag

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scapegrace74-blog · 4 years ago

Text

Ginger Snap, Chapter 2

A/N I am breaking probably the only rule I gave myself when I started writing fanfic, which was Don’t Ever Post a WIP. But lord knows I’m not immune to peer pressure and the narcotic that is reader feedback, so here it is, the second chapter of what is now an open-ended modern AU story about Jamie the Chef and Claire the Kitchen Disaster. Still a first person Claire POV, so I apologize in advance for any stray pronouns.

For the first chapter, I recommend reading it on Ao3, since I’ve made some minor edits since I first posted it on Tumblr. See above re. not planning on posting a WIP.

Oh, and funny story. When I decided to check the location of the real Ginger Snap catering company in Edinburgh, it was squished between “FrazersOnline” and “McKenzie Flooring”. If that’s not kismet, I don’t know what is. The location I describe below, however, is based on a catering venue here in Ottawa called Urban Element, where I’ve attended a few team-building events. I have yet to set anything on fire, though.

I checked my phone for the third time, confirming I wasn’t lost.

Frank and I moved to Edinburgh over the summer, just in time for him to start his position as Associate Professor of History at the University of Edinburgh. Despite our years spent in America, neither of us cared overmuch for driving, so we chose a flat (or rather, Frank chose a flat and I concurred) not far from campus. Therefore, this was the first time I’d ventured as far afield as Leith, a maritime enclave just to the north of the capital that couldn’t seem to decide if it wanted to be grittily working class or artistically hip.

When I finally reached the address, I had to smile. No main street pretensions or non-descript commercial frontage for Ginger Snap Catering. Before me stood a two-story red brick fire station, still emblazoned with the crest of the Scottish Fire and Rescue Services. The two massive truck bays were now enclosed by see-through doors that could be drawn back on a sunny day. Through these a warm yellow light could be seen, spilling onto the grey, damp pavement.

A petite woman with dark hair manned the small reception area, a red-haired toddler clinging to her like a marsupial. She held a phone to one ear while simultaneously pacing the polished concrete floor. I stood as unobtrusively as possible near the door, but in such an open space it was impossible not to overhear her side of the conversation.

“... they willna take ‘im back until ‘is fever goes down... aye, an hour ago when I picked him up but it hasn’t... nay, i dinna think it’s... tis jus’ terrible timing with two weddings t’morrow... Could ye? Och, I owe ye Mrs. Fitz, a million times o’er... Anytime, we’ll be here. Alright, soon.”

The speaker turned to me, the harried look of a working mother sharpening her already honed features.

“I apologize fer keeping ye waiting. What can I do fer ye t’day?”

Before I could respond, the young boy, probably no older than two, began to fuss, rubbing his flushed cheek against his mother’s shoulder.

“Och, mo ghille, Mam kens ye’re poorly. Mrs. Fitz is coming as fast as she may.”

Unable to quell my instinct to diagnose and then cure, I spoke up.

“I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation. Based on his age and the way he’s holding his head, it may be an ear infection.” At the woman’s penetrating look, I hastened to explain: “I’m a doctor. Would you mind if I took a closer look?”

Permission granted, I carefully palpated the boy under the jaw and peered as best I could without an otoscope into the offending ear canal. Confident in my diagnosis, I recommended treatment with a warm compress, an over-the-counter analgesic ear drop, and children’s paracetamol to control his fever. If, after twenty-four hours the symptoms had not improved, they could consider seeing his pediatrician for antibiotics, but these were only truly necessary for a persistent infection.

“Och, ye ‘ave no idea what a relief it is tae hear ye say so, lass. He’s my first bairn, ye ken, an’ I can ne’er tell if I’m over-reacting or being negligent. Can ye say thank ye tae the nice doctor, Wee Jamie?”

My stomach jumped. “Wee Jamie? Is he related by chance to Jamie Fraser?”

“Aye, tis his nephew. I’m Jamie’s sister, Jenny. Ye ken my brother, then?”

The pieces fell into place, and my insides settled.

“We’ve spoken before,” I explained. “I’m Claire Beauchamp. You and your brother helped me with a dinner party emergency last Tuesday. I came to return your market bags, and to thank you again for coming to my aid during my hour of need.”

Jenny and I spoke for another ten minutes, sharing the superficial narratives of two strangers brought together by circumstance. She was warm and thistly by turns, and I felt a longing for the honesty of female friendship that I’d given up when we left Boston. Eventually a matronly woman arrived to collect Wee Jamie. I carefully wrote down the exact names and dosages of my prescribed remedy.

After Mrs. Fitz and Wee Jamie had left, it occurred to me that Jenny needed to get back to work. I’d accomplished what I’d set out to do, even if I hadn’t thanked Jamie himself. As I began to make my goodbyes, however, Jenny interjected. “If ye’re no’ in a rush, why dinna ye join our afternoon cooking class? My brother will be demonstrating how tae make quiche. Tis the least we can do, after ye helped Wee Jamie.”

Which was how I found myself standing behind one of six cooking stations arranged across the fire station’s main area, a bright red apron covering my black slacks and saffron turtleneck. My impetuous curls were slowly breaking ranks from where I’d slicked them into a bun that morning. I worried I looked like a human Pez dispenser.

I glanced at the workstation immediately to my left. A slight woman who I guessed to be roughly my own age was engrossed in her phone, a cheeky smirk playing on her berried lips. Her strawberry blond hair was swept into an effortless chignon that made me twitch with envy. She looked up from her screen and caught me looking her way.

“Geillis Duncan,” she said, offering a well-manicured hand.

“Claire Beauchamp. Pleased to meet you.”

“Is it yer first time taking a class, Claire?” At my nod, she leaned in and whispered conspiratorially: “Ye’re in for a treat.”

Before I could enquire what she meant, a murmur amongst the other students (all women, save one) was accompanied by the heavy tread of work boots on polished concrete and a familiar Scottish burr.

“Good afternoon, everyone. Thank ye fer joining me on this dreich Scottish day. I ken a few of ye are new, so let’s start with a brief overview of yer stations and some basic safety reminders, before we tackle the quiche.”

Today Jamie was wearing a pair of olive pants that tapered down his endless legs and a technical shirt that clung valiantly to his upper body. He looked like he’d just stepped off the nearest rock climbing pitch. I wondered if he owned anything that answered to the name of a professional wardrobe, but I couldn’t deny that he looked impressive, in an athleisure sort of way.

“See what I mean?” Geillis hissed at me as Jamie made his way to the front of the hall, speaking now about optimal burner temperatures. “That man is a dozen kinds of yes.”

I concentrated on each step of the ostensibly simple recipe. Pie crust had been the previous week’s assignment, so I had only to blind bake the prepared dough already at my workstation. Once I had the crust centered exactly in the pie pan, pierced with a fork in orderly rows and placed in the oven, I rushed to catch up with the others. I’d missed Jamie’s instructions regarding pan frying the bacon, so I increased the flame, thinking I could make up a little time. The fatty meat crackled pleasingly as I set it in the lightly greased pan. I was inordinately proud of myself.

Things went very badly, very fast. First, my eyes wouldn’t stop watering as I meticulously peeled then dissected the onion into near-transparent crescents. Tears obscured my vision and I tried to wipe them away without contaminating my hands. To my left I could make out Geillis skillfully cracking eggs into a glass bowl, her pie crust already elegantly filled with crispy morsels of bacon and caramelized onion bits.

A vague sense of having forgotten something important tickled my mind. My pie crust! Grabbing a silicone glove (I wasn’t making that mistake twice) I rushed to the wall oven and extracted the pan. Giddy with relief, I saw the dough was only a little dark around the edges.

Before I could return victorious to my station, Jamie uttered a Scottish noise of alarm from his vantage at the front of the class. We both rushed across the room to where my rashers of bacon now resembled blackened shoe laces obscured by a heavy veil of smoke. With practiced ease, Jamie lifted the entire skillet into the adjacent sink and turned on the cold water. A cloud of steam enveloped his head, highlighting his auburn curls. I bit my lip as he looked my way in amusement.

“I hope ye werena planning on serving quiche to yer faculty guests t’night, Ms. Beauchamp?”

I stood meekly next to Geillis for the remainder of the class, no longer trusted around open flame without adult supervision. She graciously allowed me to extract her quiche when it was done baking. It looked like a magazine cover. Meanwhile, my workstation looked like the scene of an industrial accident.

While we were waiting for her quiche to cook, Geillis and I got to know each other a little better. She was a Highland lass from up near Inverness. Married to a wealthy older man, her life sounded like an endless quest for diversion. Despite this, or because of it, she had a sharp-witted frankness that I appreciated. She was also a hard-core gossip.

“Wee besom,” she remarked with a nod towards a blond girl who was currently monopolizing Jamie’s attention with endless questions punctuated by manufactured giggles and flicks of her pin-straight hair. “Tha’s Laoghaire Mackenzie of the Mackenzie brewing dynasty. They’ve a live-in cook, so there’s only one reason she attends these classes, and it isna for the quiche.”

I watched Jamie laugh over something the girl said, mineral eyes alight and his perfect white teeth on display. I suppose I couldn’t blame her. I wasn’t here for the quiche either.

The interminable ninety minute lesson finally ended. I thanked Geillis profusely and we exchanged numbers before she rushed off for her reiki treatment. Gathering my trench coat and purse, I tried to slink away without calling any further attention to myself.

“Ms. Beauchamp!”

I cursed under my breath, then turned to face him.

“Please, call me Claire. After I nearly burned down your place of business, we should probably be on a first name basis.”

Jamie chuckled. It sounded more natural and lived-in than his earlier response to Laoghaire, but I was likely fooling myself.

“Och, wha’s a cooking demonstration wi’out a wee bit of drama. Will ye be joining us next week? We’ll be making ceviche, sae I willna need tae put the fire brigade on stand-by.”

“Bastard,” I replied to his cheeky smirk. “Alas, I don’t think I’m cut out to be a cook. It appears to be the one science I can’t master.”

“Cooking isna a science, Claire,” he explained with sincere intensity. “Tis an art. Perhaps tha’s the root of yer struggle.”

“Perhaps it is. But in that case, I may as well give up now. I haven’t an artistic bone in my body.”

His languorous perusal of said body lit a different kind of flame in my belly. Geillis was right; he really was a dozen kinds of yes.

“I canna say as I agree. Come back any time if ye’d like tae try again.”

I blushed, thoroughly discomfited by his blatant flirting. He knew about Frank. He’d fled from him onto my fire escape, for Christ’s sake! Maybe when you looked like James Fraser, every interaction with a woman was merely a chance to hone your craft. Or maybe he was truly ignorant of his effect.

“I’ll take that under advisement. Thank you again, Jamie.”

“Until the next time, Arsonist.”

#my writing #outlander #ginger snap

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clearlynotjanus · 4 years ago

Photo

Moceit Appreciation Week :: Baking

Read on Ao3

Art by @nonchimerical

tag list: @sanderssidesangsttrash @catalinaacosta @whatishappeningrightnow @the-snekwhisperer-world @varthandi @the-dead-and-the-decaying @serpentinesomebody

CW: Food mention, moral ambiguity Word Count: 2327 Genre: Hurt/Comfort Rating: Gen Ships: Moceit, implied if you squint Dukeceit

To support my writing & get access to exclusive content not posted anywhere else, consider subscribing to my Patreon.

The flower shaped cookies sat mockingly on the stove, having long gone cold. Two tubs of white frosting had been placed on the counter with some food dye as well. Many times he had second guessed the unassuming vials of concentrated hue--was it too much? Just as many times he had stood, picked up a frosting container, rolled it in his hands, picked at the aluminum before convincing himself not to peel it back, not to sink his finger in, not to cope with Janus’ absence by consuming a gluttonous amount of sugar.

He’ll show, of course he would. Janus hadn’t forgotten or … ditched him like that before. Just because he was preoccupied with something beforehand doesn’t mean he was forcing himself to come, forcing himself to spend time with him, indulging him, patronizing him … Janus would never, he enjoyed stuff like this! Even if … even if it was just for the sweets.

“Oh dear,” Patton inhaled between his sugar-coated teeth, shaking his head down at the demolished tub of vanilla frosting.

“Am I interrupting?” Patton jumped, hiding the nearly empty container behind his back, looking exactly like Pooh Bear after a honey binge, Janus thought.

“Janus!” Patton greeted, a little too much excitement and anxiety in his voice. “N-no, of course not, I was just,” He faltered, glancing at the cookies like they held an easier way of saying, I was waiting for you, thanks for not breaking my heart.

“...Testing the frosting?” Janus teased, easing into the kitchen, amusement sly on his lips.

“Yeah! Something, hah, something like that.” Patton chuckled down at the floor, a shoulder shrugging as he apprehensively brought the evidence forward. He weighed it nervously in one hand before grinning at Janus. “I guess it’s a good thing we had two containers!”

“Mm,” He hummed down at his hands as he peeled his gloves off. A rare occurrence of course, but having spent plenty of time baking together, one Patton had at least slightly adjusted to. A patch of shiny scales that spread from Janus’ left knuckle up to his wrist gleamed with the movement of folding his gloves neatly on the counter. Occupied with the curiosity Patton felt observing something so … pretty, he didn’t notice Janus reaching with a bare thumb to wipe away a sizable glob of sugar from the side of Patton’s mouth until the sensation jogged him out of thought. Janus looked down at it before placing it between his own teeth. Despite the way Patton’s mouth gaped, Janus continued to delicately scrape the sugar onto his tongue. “A good thing, indeed.” He smirked at Patton, satisfied with watching the glow of his grin quickly turn into a scarlet blush.

“Y-yeah,” Patton breathed, absolutely dumbstruck as Janus turned towards the stove. Relieved at no longer being scrutinized so closely, his head fell; cool palms pressed to his burning cheeks and a ragged breath was pulled in as quietly as he could manage. Dully he registered the sound of bowls being placed on the counter, but they didn’t make sense through the ringing in his ears.

His thoughts raced in circles as he tried to decode the meaning behind that flirtatious gesture. Patton wasn’t stupid of course, but he was an expert at assuming far too much of others’ words and actions; a pro at falling in love with basic kindness. The habit made him think at least four times over about everything ever since Thomas’ last heart crushing break up. Janus had to know that, right? And if he did, that made him really mean, didn’t it? Why then, did Patton enjoy it so much?

“...cold now, the frosting will be easier, right?” Janus paused for Patton to answer, setting the dye vials next to some arbitrarily chosen bowls. When the other didn’t respond, Janus turned just as Patton’s hands fell in a cartoonish motion. Janus caught the action in a blur, shaking his head back with a quirked brow. Patton blinked, eyes wide before catching up to the moment.

“Y-yeah, yes!” He nodded, again too eagerly, and assumed his position at the stove next to Janus.

“Wonderful,” Janus clapped his hands softly together at his chest. “This should be easy then,” He observed as he turned his head to smile at Patton in a way that had red climbing up his neck again.

Patton forced himself to inhale through his teeth and focus on the moment instead of how close they were standing.

“Thanks for getting the bowls,” Patton reached to place the vial of yellow dye in one before handing it to Janus. Reaching for a bowl of his own, Patton realized he didn’t know which color he wanted to start with. There were so many to choose from! Patton tapped his chin as Janus took the remaining tub of frosting. The signature sound of the aluminum being pulled back accompanied the rest of Patton’s sentence, which was mumbled almost shyly. “I wasn’t sure if you would think mixing the dyes was too much effort.”

“Says the person who insists on making the dough from scratch every time,” Janus snorted easily as he dolloped a spoonful of frosting in his own bowl, and then Patton’s. Patton bowed his head with a small bit of shame, but smiled at the way Janus teased him. “I know what I’m getting into every time I join you,” Janus continued, squeezing a couple drops of yellow into his bowl. Somehow Janus made the sound of a fork scraping against porcelain repeatedly not annoying. Patton didn’t know how he managed that; it always seemed like the second he held a utensil near anything, annoying noise was unavoidable.

“I guess that’s true,” Patton mumbled, finally settling on starting with purple. He planned to do a few of everyone’s favorite colors and let them know they were on the counter for the taking. Well, except yellow and green of course. Janus always did his and Remus’ himself. Carefully he squeezed a couple drops of blue and red into his bowl, tongue poking out the side of his mouth; Paton’s telltale sign of concentration. Knowing this, Janus let a few moments pass in silence as he began artfully scraping his pastel yellow mixture into a ziplock bag, which would eventually have its tip cut off to make piping the frosting onto the perfectly shaped cookies that much easier.

As Janus finished with that, Patton beamed at his perfectly purple colored frosting. The color had come out flawlessly, his concentration paying off well. “Making some for Virgil?” Janus asked conversationally as he held a ziplock bag open for Patton to begin spooning his mixture into.

“And Roman and Logan, of course,” Patton assured with a smile of appreciation as his tongue poked out once more.

“Of course,” Janus sassed but fell silent again as he watched Patton make sure he got every inch of the frosting inside the bag. He wondered how Patton ever did this without him. Had Roman helped? He couldn’t imagine the superfluous Prince capable of staying still long enough to hold a bag like this. The idea of Logan helping was almost comedic. Perhaps Virgil then … The two did get on very well and the brood had a history of helping Janus in the kitchen, years ago.

“Alright! Next color,” Patton cheered. Janus’ smile twitched and he busied himself with folding the bag of purple, squeezing out the air to be placed on the counter for later.

The bowls were placed in the sink and the process was repeated with a couple of clean ones, now with Janus mixing the forest green with a hint of yellow to achieve the Duke’s signature lime color. He watched as Patton used about half the tube of blue for Logan’s indigo shade, complaining all the while that it wasn’t dark enough and looked too much like his own favorite baby blue.

Janus hummed as he observed it; it was true, the color was far too light. “Try a couple drops of this,” He offered, reaching and handing Patton the unopened bottle of black food coloring.

“Black?” Patton said almost indignantly. His bottom lip jutted out an inch as he looked down at the bottle, turning it in his hand.

“Well, he likes dark blue, doesn’t he?” Janus questioned, wondering how on earth he could have offended Patton with the color black.

“I guess…” He trailed off, glancing between the bottle and the pretty light blue in the bowl. “It’s just…” Patton paused, realizing his thought was a bit silly, but it felt like a good question. Janus never made him feel stupid for asking things at least, even if the answer seemed obvious. “Logan’s … on our side, isn’t he?” Janus quirked a brow, his expression devoid of amusement suddenly. “L-like, mine and …. and Roman’s… I mean.”

Silence hung in the air for several seconds. Patton had begun regretting the question; usually, Janus had some sort of answer immediately. His mind was much faster than his, able to connect things instantly where Patton couldn’t even begin to see a relation. His explanations were always succinct, at least to him. This sort of pause was … rare, if not unheard of. He anxiously rolled the bottle in his hands, wishing he could just sink out and leave.

Janus started with a quiet click of his tongue as his head turned to look at the wall behind the stove. “Since when is color indicative of that sort of thing,” Janus mused rhetorically. Another pause ensued and Patton wasn’t quite fast enough to draw his own conclusion from that line alone. He did start to wonder, however, if he had managed to hurt Janus’ feelings, and if that was why he was reluctant to answer.

“Yellow doesn’t exactly scream evil, does it,” Janus said with too much venom on his tongue as he looked back at Patton and jabbed a hand almost violently at the bright gloves resting on the counter. Patton held the bottle to his chest, shrinking away as Janus’ anger showed. He didn’t like when Janus got angry, but he at least understood it. He knew he could be frustrating.

“Neither does bright green, right?” Janus tilted the bowl towards Patton unnecessary before sighing. “Your side, my side,” He mumbled, walking away from the counter. Patton frowned at the ground as Janus reigned his frustration in.

He had a point. Yellow was bright and happy; the sun was yellow, dandelions, sunflowers … lots of good things were yellow; and green was everywhere. Not exactly the Duke’s shade of green, but green nonetheless, Patton guessed. Why had he never noticed it before? Between everyone, only he and Roman wore bright colors, but that didn’t make Virgil, in his black hoodie and equally black jeans, any less good than either of them! What did that mean for yellow and green then, if even a color as dark as indigo was to be considered light?

“I’m sorry,” Patton sighed, shoulders deflating. He cautiously approached Janus’ back.

“No, no,” Janus muttered, fingers pressed to his brow with a thumb on his cheek, a hand on his hip as he berated himself for showing so much of his aggravation. “I shouldn’t have gotten so upset.”

“I get it,” Patton’s tone smiled bitterly as he hesitatingly placed a hand on Janus’ shoulder. “I’m really frustrating and ask stupid questions sometimes.”

“Pat…” Janus turned his head to frown at Patton. “That’s not…”

“Forget I asked anything,” he squeezed Janus’ shoulder and nodded towards the cookies on the stove. “C’mon, we should finish up.”

Janus stared at the wear on Patton’s face for a long moment. The air was sweet and not just because of the frosting on Morality’s teeth. There he went, hurting Patton again. Would he ever be able to stop?

“Sure,” Janus deflated and reached up to place a hand over Patton’s on his shoulder. For a moment, Patton’s facade fell and the surprise in his expression was genuine, but the slip was only quick enough for Janus to catch.

The familiar routine continued, now silently as Janus scooped Remus’ green into a bag. Patton stared down at the black dye in his hand but only paused briefly before tearing it open and poising the tip above the bright blue frosting. Janus held his breath and it seemed Patton was doing the same.

“I’m sure Log--” Janus started, about to reassure Patton with the idea that Logan would enjoy a cookie no matter its color, but was interrupted by two black globs falling into the bowl finally. Janus closed his mouth and watched from the side of his vision as Patton began mixing the color thoroughly; slowly at first, and then as the blue darkened to a familiar indigo, faster.

“Oh,” Patton sighed, soon smiling down at the bowl of perfect Logan-colored frosting. “It’s perfect,” He grinned at Janus, seeming to instantaneously forget their altercation.

Janus’ smile back was softer, much more relieved than anything. “It is,” he nodded and reached for a bag to hold open once more. When Patton had finished scooping the frosting inside and Janus had turned to place the bag with the other two, Morality paused.

“Thanks,” He mumbled to Janus’ back, hoping he would attribute the sudden appreciation to helping with Logan’s color. Really, Patton wasn’t quite sure what it was he realized, but he did realize something about the black and white way he viewed everyone; and that was thanks to Janus, as usual.

Janus ran his hands over the ziplock bags laying atop each other. Yellow, purple, green, indigo, soon to have light blue and red together with them. The colors didn’t mean anything, even if they were obviously representative of a specific person here. Sure, they could theorize all day about why each color, but what did it matter? A little darkness in someone didn’t make them all bad, obviously.

“Of course, dear.”

Chapter One || Chapter Three

#moceitappreciationweek #moceit appreciation week #moceit week 2021 #moceit #sanders sides

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you-can-call-me-wanda · 5 years ago

Text

Christmas

Pairing: Bruce Springsteen x Reader

Author’s Note: So obviously it’s way past Christmas now but of course I was still going to write this request. This really made it clear to me how slow I am at getting these written and out... I think part of the problem is now I just have such a large list of requests (not that I’m complaining, I love it) <3

“Hey Bruce?” you called out as you got off the telephone.

“Yeah?” He rounded the corner into the kitchen where you were. “What’s up? Everything okay back at home?”

When he’d left the room, you’d been on the phone with your family.

“Yeah,” you said. “It’s just that I’m not going to be able to visit them for the holidays it turns out.”

You pouted a little. You had been excited to go and spend some time with your family this December.

Bruce frowned, eyebrows creasing together.

“Oh? Why not?” he asked.

You shrugged. “It’s kind of a long story,” you sighed. “I don’t really want to get into it right now.”

As much as you loved your family, sometimes they complicated things way too much.

“So you’ll stay here for Christmas then?” Bruce asked, focusing now on where you would spend the holiday instead.

“If that’s alright,” you said somewhat coyly.

You and Bruce had only started dating earlier this year. The two of you had never spent a Christmas together before and you weren’t completely sure he wanted to.

“Of course it’s alright. Why wouldn’t I want to spend Christmas with the person I love?” he asked with a wide grin.

You smiled back, a warm feeling rising in your chest.

“Okay, great. I’ll stay here with you then.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Bruce asked, always the concerned boyfriend. “I know how much you wanted to see everyone for the holidays.”

“I’m fine,” you said, giving him a smile. “I’ll see them soon after I’m sure. Besides, now we get to spend it together.”

He wrapped his arms around you in a hug.

“That’s right. Our first Christmas.”

You hummed contentedly. “What will we do?” you asked, wondering how the two of you would spend the day.

“I don’t know, but we’ll figure something out.”

****

You both agreed that the last thing you wanted was a stressful holiday so you both decided that you’d take a laidback approach to Christmas this year. That didn’t mean it wasn’t every bit as fun and magical though. The days leading up to it were fun too.

You had gone out and picked out a nice-looking tree the week before and had bought a few decorations at the shops to decorate it with. You taught Bruce how to make paper snowflakes which you hung on the tree as well. Bruce even dug out some old Christmas lights to string on the branches.

Four days before Christmas, you showed Bruce how to make cookies. You weren’t an expert baker or anything, but it was something you had been doing for years around the holiday season, so it was almost second nature to you. For Bruce however, it was not. The poor boy could barely measure a cup of flour without making a huge mess and he somehow wouldn’t even get the right amount. You, thankfully, had the patience of a saint with him though and spent the time between your laughing helping him figure things out. And the cookies came out great! That night you and Bruce were both left with stomach aches after all the cookie dough and cookies you’d eaten.

On Christmas Eve, the two of you spent the majority of the day on the sofa watching Christmas movies on the television and snacking on the cookies you made. You ordered Chinese takeout for dinner and ate that in the comfort of your living room as well. The two of you stayed up late into the night, just enjoying each other’s company and the feeling of being together. Your legs were tangled with his and his head rested comfortably on your shoulder. At a little past midnight, he picked up his head to look at you.

“It’s Christmas,” he said, gazing over at the clock.

“It is,” you hummed. “Merry Christmas Bruce.”

He grinned and pecked your lips. “Merry Christmas (Y/N).”

The two of you slept in the next morning. There was no pressure or hurry to get up and get ready like there usually was when Christmas was spent with your family. You were able to wake up slowly and rest for a bit in Bruce’s arms before getting up. The two of you made a simple breakfast of pancakes and ate them slowly, just taking in the peaceful morning. You knew that in reality Christmas was just another day, but it felt different somehow. Maybe it was all the fuss it got each year, but it always felt like such a special day to you, a day for joy and warmth.

“I have something for you,” Bruce said as he carried yours and his dirty dishes to the sink.

“You do?” you asked, intrigued. You had no idea Bruce had gotten you anything for the holiday.

“Yeah,” he said, coming back to take a seat at the table. “It’s not much but, y’know, I wanted to get you something.”

“I got you something too,” you said, excited about getting to give him his gift. “It’s been hidden under the bathroom cabinet for weeks now.”

Bruce laughed. “Yours has been buried deep in the closet,” he confessed.

“Let’s go get them then!”

You both scurried of to retrieve your gifts for one another and met back up in the living room a couple minutes later. Bruce handed his gift to you first.

“Open it,” he urged softly, looking almost nervous. “I hope you like it.”

You pulled the wrapping paper off of the box in two swift motions. The box was square and small enough to fit in the palm of your hand. When you opened it, you gasped. There was a ring inside.

“It’s not an engagement ring,” Bruce rushed to explain. “Just in case that’s what you thought.”

You smiled at him as you inspected the ring in your hands. It was a simple silver band with small ornate details decorating it. On the inside, your initial was engraved next to a heart and the letter B.

“I love it,” you said, slipping it on your finger. It fit perfectly. “Babe, you must have spent a fortune on this.”

“You’re worth it,” Bruce said, a small blush rising to his cheeks as you continued to marvel at the gift he’d given you.

“I don’t know if mine is going to compare,” you said, handing over the package you had wrapped up for him.

“Shush,” he teased, “I’m sure I’ll love it.”

You clutched your hands together as he tore off the wrapping paper, revealing his gift. You had gotten him a new harmonica and some guitar picks as well. You crossed your fingers that he would like them.

“Do you like it?” you asked, unable to resist the question.

“Babe,” he said, looking up at you from the gifts in his hand. “It’s perfect. I love it!”

“Okay, good,” you breathed. “I wasn’t quite sure what harmonica to get you, but the girl at the store said that was a good one.”

“It’s perfect,” he repeated. “Trust me. Thank you for this.”

“Thank you,” you said. “For the ring and for today. I know Christmas has just began really, but this past week has just been so great.”

“Aw babe,” he said, pulling you close to him and wrapping an arm around you. You snuggled into his side contentedly. “I’m happy you feel that way because I feel the exact same.”

#bruce springsteen imagine #bruce springsteen x reader #wanda writes

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interstellarflare · 6 years ago

Text

However Long It Takes || William Schofield

1917 (2019)

~PART ONE~

Warnings: Slight gore, swearing.

Summary: He first met you in the summer before the war. Since then, you had been the only thing on his mind. Now, he will do whatever it takes to get back to you.

Author’s note: 1917 SPOILERS! If you haven’t seen the movie then please don’t read! I am planning to have this as a three-part series, so stay tuned for more! Also, apologies for the incredibly long chapters.

The night was warm, warmer than it had been in months.

A small festival was being held in town to celebrate the warm summer evening, many of the townsfolk had spent the entire day preparing for a spectacular night of festivities. William found himself being dragged towards the bustling town square by his two younger sisters, his hands intertwined with theirs as they eagerly hurried him along. Despite the happiness that William felt growing in his chest, something felt different. It was a good different, dare he say it, even magical, as his eyes wandered from the strings of golden lights that hung from one side of the street to the other.

His sisters giggled excitedly as music from the town square grew louder, his sisters quickly leading him towards the bakery where their mother would likely be all night. Their mother had been baking all day: pastries, cakes, all sorts of treats that might be sold tonight. He could smell the familiar scent of sugar and dough, bringing a small smile to his face. He found his mother standing behind a wooden stall covered in pink fancy ribbons, accompanied by white bows and small blue sashes.

His sisters let go of his hold, rushing forward to their mother with wide open arms. William followed close behind, weaving his way through the gathered crowds and into the awaiting arms of his family, his sisters giggling softly at their brother’s slightly hesitant embrace. “There you all are!” His mother teased, pulling away and lightly pinching her son’s cheek, “I was beginning to get worried”.

William laughed, wrapping his arms affectionately around the shoulders of his sisters. “No need to be worried...” Will began, smiling warmly at the woman before him “...you know Annabelle takes too long to get ready”. “I do not!” the eldest of his sisters cried, pulling away from her brother’s hold and shoving his arm playfully. With an amused roll of her eyes, their mother handed them a small cake each: Annabelle received strawberry, Catherine gladly took vanilla, her small hands already smudged with white icing. And for William, his mother always managed to save him one of her famous chocolate cakes, the chocolate cakes which she had always made at the beginning of each summer.

“Alright you lot, I want you all home safe and sound by nine. Understood?” their mother spoke authoritatively, as she pointed an accusing finger towards each of her children. With a stifled giggle, William’s sisters agreed before disappearing back into the crowd, likely making their way towards the town square to dance the night away. Unsure of what to do, now that he was alone, William wandered aimlessly through the crowd in hopes of finding something to do.

Eventually, and by no fault of his own, William found himself standing in the town square. Having finished his cake, he stood on the gutter and watched as the townsfolk danced happily in dizzying circles, laughter filling the air. Through the flashes of summer colours, he had spotted his sisters dancing together happily with a few other children, some he recognised, some he didn’t. As his gaze moved over the spectating crowd, he felt his eyes widen and his chest clench painfully as his eyes never left your form.

You stood underneath one of the lamp posts on the other side of the square, bathed in the golden light from above which made your (hair/colour) locks flow delicately over your shoulders. Your (eye/colour) eyes sparkled as you clapped along to the beat of the music, your crimson dress swaying from the movement. He remembered seeing you around town before, only on fleeting glances, but seeing you now, like this in such an atmosphere, it truly did feel magical.

Without thinking, William found himself edging through the crowd towards you. His hands began to sweat, his breathing shallow as his nerves finally began to take hold. What was he doing? What was he thinking? He didn’t even know your name. Time seemed to slow down as William approached you, his body feeling hot as he stood beside you, no wishing that he had thought this through. His body froze completely as you turned to face him, your (eye/colour) eyes widening ins surprise as you almost ran into him. Your face was inches away from his own, the crowd pushing the two of you together. “I...I-” Will began, searching his mind for something, anything to say. But you surprised him, smiling brightly as you gently took his hands in your own.

“Would you like to dance?” You asked him quietly, staring up at him in wait for his response. Bewildered by your words, a choked laugh left his lips as he smiled happily. “Of course! Yes, I would love to” he responded, moving trance-like into the town square amongst the happily dancing townsfolk. You turned to face him with your arms outstretched. “I’m Y/n...” you spoke kindly, as William nodded his head in response. “I’m William, or Will if you prefer” he spoke quickly, your laughter music to his ears as the two of you began to dance.

As he spun and twisted in every direction, the world melted away in many blurs of colour. Will stared down at you with an expression of complete adoration. He had never felt so elated, so happy and so...in love. When the music ended, the two of you were met with thunderous applause, the sound bringing joyous smiles to your faces. In that moment, your laughter echoed throughout the square, as William took your hand in his own and boldly lead you towards other areas of the festival, enjoying the fluttering feeling in his chest every time you would look at him. Every time you smiled or laughed, he fell further and further in love.

By the end of the night, William had stayed out past his curfew. He genuinely enjoyed your company, and he never wanted this moment to end. It took him by surprise when you gracefully stood up on your toes, your lips pressing against his own in a gentle but passionate kiss. When you pulled away for air, he couldn’t help the small but noticeable blush that formed on his cheeks. “Thank you for tonight, Will...” you spoke softly while grinning up at him, your eyes sparkling in the golden lights of the street lamps outside your house “...I had a great time”.

Will chuckled breathlessly in response, nodding his head slowly as nerves still fluttered in the bottom of his stomach. Swallowing thickly, Will spoke quickly “Would you perhaps like to meet again tomorrow? Under the cherry blossoms on the hill?” he suggested awkwardly, his eyes wandering over your face anxiously in wait for your answer. When you giggled sweetly and again stood up on your tip-toes, placing a soft kiss to his cheek before nodding in response. “I will meet you there tomorrow afternoon. Goodnight, Will...” you whispered quietly, quickly disappearing inside your house with one last glance towards him over your shoulder.

When Will returned home afterwards, he didn’t care about the scolding he had received from his mother. All he thought about was you: your smile, your eyes, your lips on his. He hoped that the many hours he would spend with you would turn out to be just as magical.

William did indeed meet you underneath the cherry blossom trees the next afternoon, and many more afternoons after that.

He spent all of his free time with you, even if you were busy working at the small little bookshop in town. He would help out whenever he could. Eventually, the small town knew that the two of you had become an item. William had introduced you to his mother and two sisters, the three of them welcoming you into their home with wide open arms. Annabelle and Catherine adored you, even considering you as the older sister they never had.

William found it quite amusing. Whenever he wasn’t around, or sometimes when he was, Annabelle would ask you to braid her hair, while Catherine just wanted a hug. He would have been lying to himself, but William found himself thinking that you would make a wonderful mother one day. If your love for his little sisters was anything to go by, he had no doubt about it. But, of course, you were both two young. And besides, tensions were high. The threat of imminent war loomed overhead. Even in this small town in the countryside of England, people began to worry.

William remembered that you had told him something one late afternoon underneath the cherry blossoms. “My uncle says that the Prime Minister is getting the country ready for war” you spoke gravely, your head lying against his chest with his arm wrapped lovingly around your form.

“Your uncle?” William questioned, turning his head towards you with a raised eyebrow. You turned your head upward to meet his gaze, nodding slightly accompanied by a small smile. “My mother’s brother, General Erinmore. He is currently stationed at the War Office with High Command. He’s been keeping us up-to-date with everything that is going on” you explained, moving onto your side with your head now resting in the crook of his shoulder, you hand resting peacefully on his chest.

“Do you think there will be one?” William asked quietly, “...a war?”. He watched as you sighed again, your eyes falling to your hand as you began to draw patters into the fabric of his shirt. “I don’t know, maybe? My only hope is that if there is one, it will be over soon” you finished worriedly, snuggling closer to William’s body with a small huff. A gentle summer breeze blew through the canopy of the cherry blossom trees, causing a few of the petals to fall around the two of you below. The rest of the afternoon passed by in silence, and the conversation ceased to exist.

William knew that you didn’t like the topic of war. It made you uneasy. It made everyone uneasy, especially his mother, who was just as worried as you were. It wasn’t until the 29th July, a week after your conversation that you had burst through the door to the Schofield home out of breath, in shock and with eyes wider than saucers. Your eyes were red, still wet from the many tears that you had shed only minutes before arriving. You held a piece of paper in your hands. A letter, with delicate handwriting sprawled over the page.

Upon seeing your disheveled form, William abandoned his breakfast that sat on the table and rushed towards you, enveloping you in an embrace that you desperately needed. As his arms pulled you close, you began to weep into his shoulder, sobbing loudly as you clutched desperately at the fabric of your lover’s shirt. “Y/n, what’s wrong?” William whispered, carefully pulling away from your hold and examining your form, bewildered at what could have made you so upset.

Shakily wiping your face free of fallen tears, you lifted the letter between the two of you and sighed nervously. “I received a letter from my uncle this morning...” you began, swallowing thickly as you tried to prevent yourself from crying further. At the mention of your uncle, William immediately knew that it was bad. Even now, William felt his heartbeat increase due to nervousness.

You swallowed thickly again, your breath shaky as you read from the letter in your trembling hands. “My dearest niece, I am writing to you now to inform you of some terrible news. As of last night, Great Britain is now at War with Germany”.

William’s blood ran cold, his heart skipping a beat as all of the air left his lung. The words of the letter would haunt him forever, as he once again pulled you into his arms while burying his head in the crook of your neck and hugging you tightly. Eventually, William felt his mother’s comforting embrace envelope the both of you, his sisters doing the same and hugging you around your waist. The house fell silent, all except for your muffled sobs which filled the house with an uncomfortable and unwanted dread.

William had asked you to meet him underneath the cherry blossom trees. He had wanted to tell you something important, something that you couldn’t help but feel nervous about. It had been a few weeks now since the war began, many of the boys that were eligible to join the army had already left, leaving the small countryside town to become a mere shell of what it used to be.

As you approached your usual meeting place, you spotted William leaning against one of the trees, the flowers still in bloom. It was late afternoon, almost sundown. William was illuminated by the gold, orange and pinkish hues of the setting sun, his hair slightly shorter than it had been earlier that morning. Pushing off the tree trunk beside him, William met you half way and took your hands in his, smiling down at you with a loving expression. You raised your eyebrow in confusion, flicking your (hair/colour) hair over your shoulder. “Did you cut your hair?” you asked him awkwardly, looking your lover up and down with a questioning gaze.

Will shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly “Maybe...” he teased, pressing his lips together in a thin line “...do you like it?”. You shook your head disapprovingly, laughing loudly as Will’s mouth fell open in mock hurt. “And to think, I thought I looked quite handsome” he spoke lowly, causing you to laugh again. “You do!” you defended loudly, lightly hitting Will’s shoulder “...I was only teasing”. Suddenly, Will’s demeanour changed.

His eyes turned from happy to sad, a long sigh escaping his lips. He held your hands tightly in his own, the action alone was enough to let you know that something was wrong. “Is everything alright?” you asked him quietly, searching his eyes for something, anything that might give you any indication as to what might be wrong. William sighed sadly, his gaze falling to the luscious green grass between you before returning to your (eye/colour) hues.

“I have something to tell you...” he began slowly, swallowing hard as he continued “...but, I know you won’t like it”. Now, you were worried. A part of you somehow already knew what he was going to say. Another part of you didn’t want it to be true. You nodded your head slightly, knowing that Will saw, knowing what was to come next.

“I signed up to join the army...I’m going to war”.

The sting of his words hit you full force in the chest, knocking the breath from your lungs as you collapsed to the grass below. Landing on your knees, you felt your eyes well up with tears as you saw Will kneel down in front of you, watching your form anxiously. “When do you leave?” was all you could manage, your voice cracking slightly, but enough to make William sniff sadly. “I leave tomorrow morning. I have to catch the train to London before I’m shipped off for training”.

Another sting.

You began to cry loudly, burying your head in your hands. You felt Will’s embrace wrap around your form, holding you tightly as you wept whole-heartedly. “I might be going away for a long time...” Will began, whispering lovingly against your ear “...there may be no way of telling what will happen, but I will come back to you. I promise, I will return to you no matter what hell I am put through. I love you. I love you so, so much Y/n”.

As you removed your hands from your face, you somehow managed to twist in Will’s embrace, cupping his face with your hands before pressing your lips to his own in a deep and meaningful kiss. Shocked by your sudden movement, Will didn’t kiss back immediately. But when he did, you both became a tangled mess of passion, love and desperation.

Out of sight from the town, in addition to the cover of darkness, no one would find you here. Pulling away from the intense moment of passion, your dreary eyes met the lustful gaze of Will, both of your breaths uneven and heavy. You swallowed timidly, feeling yourself becoming suddenly shy at your close proximity to the man before you. “I love you too, William” you spoke breathlessly, a strange pleasure flowing through you at the sound of your words leaving your lips. In one swift movement, William had hooked his arms underneath your own and pulled you onto his waist, your lips connecting once more in a fiery passion as your hands found themselves running through his shortened hair. Will’s hands travelled to your waist instinctively, pulling you flush against him, a gasp leaving your lips at the sudden movement.

You had never felt more alive than right now. In the arms of the man you loved, as he kissed you deeply and loved you passionately. You wished that this intimate moment would never end, for you knew that when the sun rose the next morning, you would have to say goodbye.

Early the next morning, after returning home and picking the cherry blossom petals from your hair, you stood on the platform at the train station with William’s mother, Annabelle and Catherine.

William stood before you in his new military uniform, the sight of the uniform making your heart flutter nervously. You were worried. Not everyone would come back from this war, many of the men gathered here at the train station wouldn’t come home.

What if...

“Hey...” William spoke softly, cupping your face gently with his hands, your tearful eyes meeting his gaze. Will smiled, his thumbs caressing your cheeks. You savoured his touch, wishing that he didn’t have to go. “When I come back, I’m going to marry you. I promise you” he whispered lovingly, before placing his lips your forehead in a long and lingering kiss. As tears stung your eyes, you quickly reached out and grabbed the front of his uniform. Standing on your tip-toes, like the million other times before, you pressed your lips to William’s in a strong and passionate kiss. It wasn’t long before Will’s arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him and holding you tightly.

The sound of the train whistle piercing the air was what forced the two of you apart in the end. Your heart lurched into your throat as William pulled away from your hold, saying a heartfelt goodbye to his mother and sisters before boarding the train. You watched sadly as the train pulled away from the station, waving desperately as those fresh faces of boys you knew were being shipped off to war. William among them.

You stood with your arms around Annabelle and Catherine as the train disappeared from sight, the realisation of what had just happened caused your heart to skip a beat.

William, your Will, was gone. And there was no telling when...or if...he would come back.

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

Tag List: @prideofnewberk @4lendow-norris @blogbykate @strangethings-everywhere @arcaneloki @baekchelor @geekyfer @fandom--0verdose @gecrgemackays @fenderenderender @

#1917 #william schofield #william schofield x reader #george mackay #1917 x reader

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overthemoon4themarauders · 5 years ago

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“It’s late. You should be asleep”

Sorry, this one’s not my best work because it was a little rushed. But I wanted to post something for y’all. So here’s a bit of Jily for you!

“Arghhhh,” Lily silently groaned. Lily could not for the life of her fall asleep. She was extremely tired, but her body simply did not want to fall asleep. I hate being an insomniac, Lily thought to herself. “Oh well,” she said to herself. “I’ll see if I can make myself tired.” So Lily quietly got changed and left for the nearby park for a long walk.

When she arrived at her nearby park, she noticed she wasn’t alone. There seemed to be a man there sitting on the slide. Lily decided to leave him alone and sit on the opposite side of the playground on the grass.

She sat down and just reminisced about her earlier life. She remembered what her childhood was like before Hogwarts. She remembered being a first year and not having to worry about the war raging on outside of Hogwarts’ walls. She remembered all of the simpler times, and she wished she could go back. Even if it was just for a day.

She was interrupted in her thoughts by the sounds of ragged breathing. Panicked, she looked around and realized that it was the person on the opposite side of the playground. It was dark, but even then she could see that this person just wasn’t okay. She debated whether or not to step in to help, but he could be dangerous. Her compassion won, so she walked over to him.

“Hey, are you okay?” she asked as she walked over.

The person in question seemed to nod. “Yes, I’m alright.” But he sounded anything but. He was hyperventilating and shaking!

Lily frowned. By the sound of his voice, he was about her age. And he was obviously not okay, but he lied directly to her face.

“Hey,” Lily spoke softly as she kneeled down in front of him. She gently put a hand on his shoulder and said, “Breathe. Do it with me.” She cautiously grabbed his hand and placed it on her chest. “Breathe with me. Feel it. Ready? Okay. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out.”

They continued this way for a few minutes until his breathing had evened out. “Are you feeling a little better now?” Lily asked him hopefully.

“Yes, I am. Thank you.” He said without looking at her.

Lily didn’t know what else to do, so she started walking away. Before she could get very far, though, he called out.

“Wait,” he said as he scrambled to get up. “Thank you so much for what you did. I normally just pass out after one of my episodes, but you managed to help. Is there anything I can do to repay you?”

Lily knew this voice from somewhere, but she couldn’t place it, and it was too dark outside to see his face. “No, really it’s alright.”

“Please,” he insisted. “I know an ice cream shop not to far from here. And I swear I won’t kidnap you or anything. I’m not crazy like that.” He joked.

Lily chuckled. “Alright. If you say so. And sure. Ice cream sounds delicious.”

In the darkness, they walked in silence. It wasn’t too far away from the park, but it was enough to allow them to talk a bit.

“So, if I may ask, what happened?” Lily asked him.

“I had a panic attack. I have really bad anxiety, and it’s getting worse. I’m working on calming myself down and staying in control, but I was just so fired up that I couldn’t.” He said quietly. He paused, then asked, “So why are you out here at two in the morning?”

“I couldn’t sleep, so I went out for a walk to the park. I just wanted to clear my head for a bit.”

“Clear your head? What’s on your mind. And don’t worry, I won’t say anything. We’ll probably never see each other again, so your secret’s safe with me!” He added cheerfully.

She laughed and then said, “Well, I have a lot going on at home and at school. I also don’t know what I want to do with my life. It’s a huge decision and I don’t want to make the wrong choice.”

“Well, what are you passionate about? What is the first thing that came to mind when I asked that question?”

Lily’s mind immediately jumped to a healer, but she couldn’t say that. This man was probably a muggle. So instead she said doctor.

“Ah, a doc-doctor,” he said, fumbling over the word as if it was foreign to him. “I could have told you as much.”

“What do you mean,” Lily asked confusedly.

“Well, I don’t know anything about you. I don’t even know your name, and you still approached some random guy at the park and helped him calm down when he could have been some crazy psycho trying to lure you into coming closer. You’re compassionate, which is one of the most important qualities for a doc-doctor.”

Lily considered it for a moment. “I guess you’re right. That’s a step in one direction.”

“Well there you go! I would say don’t overthink it, but that would be a bit hypocritical of me.” He said with a chuckle.

Lily understood the joke and smiled softly.

The rest of the way was a very silent trip, but it was a comfortable silence. Lily almost wished that the ice cream shop wasn’t so close. She genuinely enjoyed this guy’s company.

The other person spoke up. “One more turn, and we’re there.” Sure enough after they turned the block, there was a very small ice cream shop hidden between two buildings.

When they had reached the door, he walked ahead and opened the door open for her. However small of a gesture, she appreciated it.

As they walked in a loud voice boomed from behind the counter. “JAMES!” They shook hands across the counter, and only then did Lily realize that the person she was with was none other than James Potter.

She couldn’t hide her shock. “James?”

James quickly turned and didn’t hide his shock either. “Lily?”

“You’re the one I helped?” Lily asked incredulously. “But you’re so…..different. Who are you and what have you done with James Potter?”

“Lily,” he said as if he was in pain. “I’m not the same kid you used to know. I’m so sorry that you only know me as a bully, but I can promise you that I’m not like that anymore.” He paused before adding, “How about we get some ice cream and we talk for a bit?”

Lily was doubtful again, but he really sounded sincere, so she agreed. And she was glad she did Potteer- no, James’s face lit up at that.

“So, now for the most important question. What flavor do you want?”

Lily left with a scoop of cookie dough and a scoop of mint chocolate chip while Lily left with one scoop of vanilla and a scoop of chocolate.

“Want to walk back to the park?” Lily asked.

“Yeah. Let’s go back to the park.”

The walk back to the park was a lot shorter than the walk to the ice cream shop. They arrived and both plopped down onto the grass. Lily had so many questions for James, but she didn’t know how to start. Luckily she didn’t have to.

“You’re quiet.” James observed. “Which means you have something to say. So, ask away.”

Lily was surprised that James knew that she wanted to ask something. She took it as an invitation to speak, so she started with her biggest question. “How long have you had anxiety.”

James winced before answering. “I’ve always had it. It wasn’t so bad when I was younger, but as I got older, it started to get worse. Today was one of my worst days. I just have a lot on my plate. I’m really working on it. Now to prevent a depressing conversation, I have a question for you. There has to be something else that brought you out to the playground in the middle of the night. So spill.”

“Well. I’m just, so worried about the future. My sister hates me, and she’s getting married soon. She’s just going to leave and never come back. And it’s our last year at Hogwarts. When we leave, what do we do? I know we’re all going to separate and get jobs, but there’s a war too. How bad is it going to get? I just have so many burning questions, none of which I have the answers to. I don’t want to just go through the motions of life. I want to make a difference in this world. I just….don’t know how.” She finished lamely.

“Wow. You really know how to get into deep conversations.” He joked.

Lily hit his arm jokingly. “Prat.” James just laughed it off.

“But seriously, if you spend too much time worrying about what might happen, you’re going to stress yourself out. Trust me, I know from experience. Go with what feels right to you. And I know that sounds SO cliche, but it’s the best you can do for yourself. Earlier, I now know you meant healer instead of doctor. If you really wanted to help with the war, you can help with healing those who are fighting in it. I’m sure you would do so much more because you’re Lily fucking Evans, but that’s all I have for now.”

Lily was shocked. She had never seen this side of James. And she loved it. “Wow. You really know how to get into deep conversations,” Lily mocked his earlier statement.

James lightly pushed her. “Oh shove off.” And they both laughed.

For the next 2 hours (though it felt like 30 minutes to them) were spent in similar conversations. They went from their lives to favorite colors and to every other topic they could have possibly reached. Lily was surprised by how easy it was to talk to him. She also felt guilty for only thinking he was a bully. From what she could gather, James was a magnificent person.

Lily interrupted James’s rambling about reindeer. “Hey James.”

“Yes?” he responded, confused.

“You’re not too bad.” Lily joked, hoping he would understand her hidden message.

He smiled lightly before responding, “You’re not too bad yourself. Okay, as much as I love talking to you, trust me I really really do. It’s late. You should be asleep. So, I’ll walk you home to make sure no psychos can take you.”

Lily laughed. “I’m sure they’ll be fine. I’ve been around one all night.”

“OI!” James yelled, but there was no malice in his voice. “I’ll have you know I’m very sane, thank you very much.”

“I’m sure you are.” They both grinned at each other and walked side by side to Lily’s house.

“Well, we’re here. No psychos fortunately” Lily said hesitantly.

“Ah, that’s a good thing. They wouldn’t want to see the wrath of Prefect Evans.” He joked. “Well anyways, I’ll see you around. And thank you for everything.” He added that last part quietly, but she still heard it and understood what he meant.

“You’re welcome. And thank you for a fun time.” Lily said sincerely. As James was walking away, she spoke up again. “Hey Potter!”

He turned, confused. “Meet me here tomorrow. We’ll get some ice cream during the day instead of the middle of the night.” She almost didn’t ask, but she was glad she did. It was worth it to see James’s face light up like a Christmas tree.

“I would love that. I’ll see you tomorrow then, Evans,” then he walked back up to her and gave her a light peck on the cheek, making her blush like mad.

Maybe, just maybe, she had misjudged James Potter. Maybe he was good after all. Only time would tell.

Thank you so much for reading!!!

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disgracedprinceera · 5 years ago

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Peaky Rare Pair Bingo Mid-Fest Round-Up

We started the Peaky Blinders Rare Pair Bingo Challenge back in July and still have a few weeks left. However, I thought it would be a great time to do a mid-fest round-up to catch folks up on what’s been written so far.

Rare Pairs are tricky things. They’re rare because they don’t get a lot of fanworks produced about them. And in turn, sometimes the authors don’t get a lot of love on their fics because the audiences are limited. It becomes a vicious cycle, and in the end, fandom suffers because there's an overrepresentation of just a few pairings, but many amazing characters to love and explore.

I would like to invite you all to take a look at some truly incredible pieces of fic for some much undervalued pairings in Peaky Blinders. If you have a moment, please leave the authors a comment to keep fueling their creativity, even if it’s brief, especially if you like the ship. Kudos are wonderful too, but comments really help writers know there’s an audience out there looking for rare pair content.

Cheers!

++++++++++

Chester Campbell / Tommy Shelby

Shameless by AbusiveLittleBun || [ E ] Tommy has his usual meeting with Campbell in a café but decides to spice it a bit up.

Tatiana Petrovna / Alfie Solomons

Solnishko by Valkrist || [ E ] There was something lovely about all the movements, about kneading the dough, while listening to some radio shows, shaking one’s hand and laughing about the people and music the whole time. As stupid as it could be, Alfie didn’t like to be interrupted during this process. There was only one exception, only one person that could call him or come in without having to deal with his grumpiness.

Vivid by Strawberriez8800 || [ E ] In which Alfie dreams about getting fucked by Tatiana, and asks Tommy a question.

Dazzle Me Blind by Strawberriez8800 || [ T ] Tatiana glances back at Alfie over her shoulder. “Have you ever been fucked by a princess?” “Can’t say I have, no.” “Good,” she says, voice like molten gold. “I like to be the first at everything I do.”

Singular by Strawberriez8800 || [ E ] Alfie tugs on Tatiana's silver chain, pulls her down towards him. “Something you should know, princess,” he says, mouth brushing against the shell of her ear, “I’m not in the habit of sharing, am I now.” She grins a feral grin. “Not even with Tommy Shelby?”

Barney Thompson / Tommy Shelby

Play Pretend by Valkrist || [ T ] It shouldn’t feel this way, should it? He shouldn’t be that afraid, feel more comfortable. Enjoy all the moments, blossom and feel all this happiness, but he didn’t. Why was he sad? Why didn’t he experience the same things others were talking about?

Peaches, Roses, Sandalwood by Valkrist || [ E ] There was something fascinating about all the oils, vials and equipment standing on the table. Small glasses, various colors, paste, scrapers, everything one could imagine. Different scents filled the room - and in the middle of it all there was one filled, slightly violet flacon.

Always Landing on Their Feet by Valkrist || [ G ] Tommy had always been torn between doing business properly and giving Charlie enough love and attention. Never really knew how to do it well enough, how to make his childhood fulfilled enough, but he had thought that it was okay, that he did his best giving Charlie good education and lovely father-son evenings. Had even dared to think that his boy didn’t have any secrets and behaved nice when he had to go to London for some days. Well, this was until he got one particular fateful e-mail.

Indulge a Desire by Valkrist || [ E ] There were many things that helped Barney forget about all his duties for a while, but the low lighting was the best one, after all.

Been Reading Books of Old, the Legends and the Myths by Valkrist || [M] Remember the last time we wrote each other letters? I don’t, but well, maybe it’s a good idea. Kinda funny to send all this words, knowing that you won’t read them immediately. But I won’t write them too often, still gotta pay for my living, you know.

Tu as tué la peur qui là dans mes bras by Valkrist || [ T ] Tommy chuckled. It was always funny to listen to Barney, even if he couldn’t understand how the latter managed to stay that calm. It seemed as if Ollie made nothing but mistakes, but Barney was patient, so terribly patient. Repeated the words again and again, encouraged Ollie to go on and not to send it all to hell.

Thoughts of You Consume by Valkrist || [ E ] Barney had already known what was about to come at the races. Going there hadn’t really been his preferable option for the day, but there was no harm in doing it - just being on Tommy’s side, looking at the majestic horses and seeing the other man’s lips curling into a smile when everything went the way it should. Barney didn’t understand much of this sort of business, but it was alright as long as Tommy knew what he was doing.

May Carleton / Tommy Shelby

When You Walk in Smelling Like Her Perfume by Valkrist || [ T ] May had never thought this necklace would mean so much to her one day. It hadn’t been much more than a lovely gesture back then, a little present, a joke. Something that looked lovely and united them. Even the telepathy coming with it didn’t seem intimate back then, being a lovely side effect. Oh, how easy it had been back then…

Between This Heartbeat and the Next by Strawberriez8800 || [ G ] Tommy is looking at her like he’s finally living their moments rather than stealing them. What a sight it makes.

Off the Beaten Path by Strawberriez8800 || [ G ] Thomas is waiting for someone; May is not so conceited as to assume it is her, yet when she takes the seat beside him and orders herself a drink, with the way he looks at her, it would be asinine to conclude the case is anything else.

The One Who Got Away by Boundinshallows || [ M ] Tommy and May go on an overnight trip to purchase a horse.

James / Tommy Shelby

This was Nothing by AbusiveLittleBun || [ E ] Tommy is frustrated after another meeting with Alfie and he needs an outlet. Luckily it finds him first.

Salt and Mint by AbusiveLittleBun || [ E ] Tommy was forced to remain for dinner at Ada's, in fear of James revealing their little secret, and makes a deal with the boy for his good behavior... things escalate very quickly.

Like Thunder, Like Lightning by AbusiveLittleBun || [ E ] Tommy feels torn after his hasty departure from Ada's, and a surprising phone call might, or might not help him move forward...

R U Mine? by AbusiveLittleBun || [ E ] Tommy goes back to James, but it also comes with more consequences than he imagined... (Direct sequel to Like Thunder, Like Lightning!)

Jessie Eden / Ada Shelby

Dress by Keine_angst || [ G ] Now that she's made peace with her feelings towards Jessie Eden, there was only one obstacle left. The dress.

Hungry for (Your) Love by Keine_angst || [ G ] “Tommy, sweetheart, how can you expect me to agree to do something for you if you don’t explain what do you need from me?” she pointed out the obvious, because really, it wouldn’t be safe to just say yes and take the pot luck, not when Thomas Shelby was in charge. Ada agrees to help her brother out, but things get out of hand.

Billy Grade / Finn Shelby

Beyond Redemption (Just a Pawn) by Valkrist || [ M ] Finn was angry, fucking angry. Should’ve probably known that it all would come this way. Done something against it. Then again, what could he have done? Tommy hadn’t told him that much, trying to keep him away from this bad kind of business. Football bets were alright, but nothing more. Didn’t need to ship cocaine or opium or whatever this was about. Bets like in the good old times, having Billy to write everything down.

Gina Gray / Oswald Mosley

White Swan by Valkrist || [ M ] It was funny how they all hadn’t noticed it at all, Mosley thought. Such blind people. Didn’t see it, maybe simply didn’t want to, who was to say that. He hadn’t been truly interested in joining this dance - an evening with a bunch of fucking Gypsies wasn’t exactly his idea of a well spent time - but apparently there were some good things about occasions of that kind. Well, as long as he ignored the opium, cocaine and brandy. Really didn’t seem to know the rules, this silly people.

Lizzie Stark / Tommy Shelby

Again by Emjen_Enla || [ T ] Tommy rolled over. Again. Or Tommy and Lizzie mostly fail at this sharing a bed thing.

Bonnie Gold / Goliath

Raise the Boxing Gloves by Valkrist || [ M ] Poor boy didn’t know what dreamless nights were anymore. Always had something to think about, adventures happening, a combination of all the things he had experienced. Sometimes bad, sometimes good, sometimes it was simply unclear. But Goliath could beat it all out of him if he wasn’t careful enough. Made him forget with ease, his senses focussing on some little, often rather unimportant details. An impressive and talented young man.

Ollie / Alfie Solomons

Our Bones May Turn to Stone but Hearts like Ours Don’t Rust by Valkrist || [ T ] The dunes, the water, the sand, it was all calming. Ollie simply couldn’t get used to it after having spend so much time in London, knowing all the dirt of Camden. Muddy shoes, blood, he had seen it all, even though it was way better than Birmingham, if Alfie was to be believed.

Luca Changretta / Tommy Shelby

Now and Forever by AbusiveLittleBun || [ E ] Luca is enchanted with the beautiful blue-eyed boy that attends the school he helps his mother at, little does he know Tommy Shelby feels the same way towards him...

Boysenberry Tie, with Periwinkle Eyes by WTSL_Writer_of_Things || [ G ] The bow was strange and new, the colour hard to come by and find. It wasn't often people managed to dye a bow that colour, so he snatched it up and bright it home to his blue eyes doll. Years go by and he finds that colour again, this time as a tie, and he gets the tie for his new Periwinkle eyed lover, who he practically drops to the floor for. So he gets a boysenberry tie, for the Periwinkle eyes of his strange lover.

Oswald Mosley / Tommy Shelby

Coat Wrapped Around His Shoulders by Valkrist || [ M ] It was a miracle, a fucking miracle.Tommy still didn’t know how Barney had stayed alive, but he had. Could have shot Mosley marvelously if it weren’t for this horrible interruption. A life for a life, except both people had stayed alive this time. And this was the other side of the coin. Mosley was still alive. A wonderful plan, all for nothing. So much effort put into it, all for nothing. But at least they hadn’t caught them, so Tommy could still keep his cover. Could enter the hospital without people suspecting him, ready to figure it all out.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #tommy shelby #alfie solomons #ada thorne #lizzie stark #jessie eden #tatiana petrovna #may carleton #oswald mosley #gina gray #finn shelby #barney thompson #chester campbell #luca changretta #long post

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hopinglimelight · 5 years ago

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Sober (D.S)

Welcome to the next episode of: Instead of sleeping, Hope writes a fic at 2 am while watching season four of criminal minds, which she’s been watching for only two weeks (-:

General 1- “I love you.” “Tell me that when you’re sober.”

General 12- “Come back to bed. Please.”

Sunday morning, at 3 am. That’s when Daniel decided to walk in the door. I was up, watching criminal minds. I can never sleep until Daniel comes home from a party. Especially since he always gets wasted. I looked up from the world of Dr. Spencer Reid, staring at my husband. A year ago, I would have been hopeful. Hopeful that just this one night he didn’t drink, that he was simply the Designated Driver and had to wait for the others. I learned better.

“Hi, what are you doing up?”

I turned off the tv, stood up from the couch, and walked over in the direction of the stairs.

“Where are you going?”

I turned around and glared, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Baby, listen-“

“No.” I seethed. “YOU listen. While you spent today partying, I sat at home, sighing every time a fictional character called another fictional character ‘baby girl’. Do you have any idea how big of a toll your absence takes on me?”

He put his head down while I continued.

“You never even take me to these parties? Are you embarrassed by me?”

“No!”

“Then Why? Why do you never pay me any attention? The most amount of affection I hear from you is when you're drunk. I’m not trying to sound controlling or something, but I’m your wife, Daniel James! I deserve a bit of your time. Do you even want to be with me? Do you even love me?”

“I do, baby!” He slurred out. “I’ll prove it to you. I love you.”

I scoffed before shaking my head, going up the stairs. “Tell me that when you're sober.”

since we had a split level house, and I was downstairs, I slipped out of the front door. I called my best friend, and she let me come over. I told her the whole story. The story of tonight (AN: I may not live to see our glory 🥲) and the whole plot leading up to it. I somehow ended up crying from frustration by the end.

“I’m sorry, Kora.” She hugged me, and I could hear the pouty face in her voice. She pulled away and smiled at me. “You want ice cream?”

“Cookie Dough?”

She nodded. “A whole new half-gallon.”

I nodded, and she went to go get it. After I was satisfied with the amount of ice cream I stuffed into my mouth, we went to sleep. Well, she did. I stayed awake that whole night, fidgeting with my rings.

I love Daniel. Our life was perfect. I think the bonus popularity from the release from his new album has gone to his head. He wasn’t like this during his short hiatus from the world (hehe about that-) He’d go to work at the studio at nine, come home by six, and then we’d have time to go out. We’d seen movies together. We went on walks to the beach. Took cute Instagram photos that were drafted and posted later. We’d try our best to avoid the fans, but we usually stayed at home anyway. And then, in March was when everything started to change. They were working 14 hour days at the studio. Planning the tour, doing promo. They had to record a lot. They had started to make the CDs. The boys were signing thousands on the daily. It sucked for them. There were interviews, before and after the album was released. They were on Ellen, James Corden, The Kelly Clarkson Show and so much more.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m super proud of Daniel and everyone else. However, Daniel is married. He has other responsibilities. We’re 21. We should be out partying, but every Saturday? Our marriage was damaged, not ruined. We will work this out and patch it together.

Somehow, when the sun came up, I managed to fall asleep. My best friend sleeps until noon, and today I treated myself to doing the same. As best friends do, I had full access to anything and everything under her roof. So, I showered. I made myself feel pretty for the day. Then she took me out for a girls’ day. We got our nails done, walked around different stores. We went out to lunch and got Starbucks. At some point, I started to miss Daniel. My best friend could tell.

“Go get him, lover girl.”

“Shut up.” I rolled my eyes before leaving.

The drive home made me nervous. Was Dani going to be angry? Would he be drunk? Answer to both of those; no. He was relieved when I walked in the door.

“Where were you?” He calmly asked.

“With Sam. We had a girls day today.”

“Did you have fun?”

“Yeah, but then I started missing you.”

“Kora, I’m sorry. I was stupid with how I was acting. You’re my wife, but I treated you like a dog toy. You deserve better.”

“No, I don’t. You make me so happy Dani. Yeah, I wasn’t expecting all that went with making this album, and that hurt. What matters is that we’re still happy together.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were hurting?”

“You were so happy with your album an-”

“Yeah, the album makes me happy, but you’re my true source of happiness. It’ll always be you baby girl, understand?”

I nodded, before playfully biting my lip. “Yes, sir.”

We both leaned in for a kiss, me crawling over Daniel’s thighs and sitting on his lap. He slowly pulled back from me.

“I love you, Kora.” He whispered, centimeters away from my lips.

I reclosed the gap, and I’ll just say it only got spicier from there.

After a few rounds of makeup sex, our relationship was pretty much back to normal. Our marriage was the way it was before everything fell apart. He took me with him to parties again, he didn’t drink as much, and we told each other our feelings. Now it would be strange if he left the house without telling me he loved me and vice-versa. All was well, for four months at least.

There I lay, awake in bed, for the third time this week. I had enough at two am, and got out of bed and went downstairs to the couch. I pulled the finger-knit blanket I started, and managed to add on a few more rows.

“Whatcha doing, baby?” Daniel’s sleepy morning voice rang out into the living room.

“I can’t sleep.”

“Just come back to bed. Please. I want to cuddle my wife.” He pouted and made grabby hands.

Slowly but surely, I gave in. I was resting my head on Daniel’s bicep, facing him. I took a deep breath in, my last-minute confidence boost.

“I have to tell you something.”

“What is it, Kora?” That was the most serious I think I’ve ever seen him.

“I’m pregnant.”

#daniel seavey #my fic #wdw daniel #daniel seavey fanfic #why don't we #requests #I STILL LOVE YOU FOR THE REQUEST #next one will probably be a sad one #maybe part two??#idk would anyone want that?

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legolaslovely · 5 years ago

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Dirty Dishes Part 1

Happy Fili Friday! I kid you not I almost titled this “Belly” but I decided to be normal and not. Also, I am not a baker, but I did research for this one and the recipes that I was mainly looking at for the treats mentioned in this story are linked below! I lost the link to the cake with the 26 eggs, sorry! But it was a real thing! I hope you guys enjoy!

Baked Apple Pudding

Lemon Syllabub

Shrewsbury Cake

Pairing: Fíli x Reader

Word Count: 1,714

Warnings: literally none

Summary: Fíli loves visiting the mountain’s kitchens... not necessarily for the food :)

Dirty Dishes Part 2

The kitchens that lie deep in the mountain of Erebor were always busy. Cooks and servants were always bustling about, often preparing for the next meal or cleaning up from the previous one. The busiest dwarrows, however, were the bakers. They worked tirelessly, making the pies and puddings and sweets and treats that would flow through the mountain after every meal as if there were an endless supply. They and their creations were cherished by all, though the kitchens saw few visitors delivering thanks.

Most bakers did their work in the morning, leaving the afternoon free for market runs and routine housework. (Y/N), however, was a baker who spent most of her days crouched next to the wood burning ovens, happily humming while watching her bread rise or her cakes spread.

This afternoon, her cheerful song could be heard as she stacked her baking tools- biscuit tins, patty pans, cake hoops and more- on a large cutting board to carry them from the washing area to her preparation counter space. The recently washed dishes were slippery and dripping and as more and more tools were piled on top of one another, the board grew heavy. (Y/N) carried on with her song, sucking in a breath and lifting the mass, spinning to bring them across the kitchen.

“Let me help you with that!”

The voice startled her, making a little squeal bubble out of her mouth and the board wobble in her arms. Before everything could topple to the floor, it was all taken from her and set down exactly where she wanted it.

“Fíli! You startled me!”

He turned, leaning on the tall counter. “Sorry. In my defense, I thought you would have been expecting me,” he said, smirking.

“I must have lost track of time. The- the cakes took longer than expected. Oh, look at you. You’re wet, come here.” She pulled at her apron, running it over his arms that were damp from the dripping dishes. Her touch was quick and impersonal, but she froze when his fingers ran through her hair around her ear.

“You have flour in your hair.”

“Thank you.” His lips spread into a smile and for a moment, she watched their curve. Then she drew away before he could touch her again. “You find flour in the oddest places after a day of baking.”

“I’m sure.” He took the towel off her shoulder and began to disassemble the wet dishes and dry them. When she looked up, he was watching her. “You’ll need more wood for your oven soon,” he said.

She shook her head. “There’s plenty still. What you brought last week is all stacked in the pantry.” She took another towel from the counter and snapped it at him with a smile. “Besides, it’s not your job to bring the wood in.”

His ears went red and he chuckled. “We both know Buck won’t do it and I don’t want you doing it.”

“I can do it!”

“I know you can. But I don’t want you to.” He huffed. “Don’t give me that face, I’m not babying you, I’m trying to take care of you.” He snapped his towel at her while she was stunned still by his choice of words.

She returned to the dishes. “I don’t mind doing it. It gets me outside in the fresh air.”

“Then next time you need wood for the ovens, we’ll get it together.” With the last baking tool dried, he folded the towel and set it neatly on the edge of the counter. He raised his brows, waiting for her protest, and she laughed.

“Deal. Will you pass me that cake hoop please?”

He turned over his shoulder and pointed to a round silver tool that looked like it could be what she was talking about. “This?”

“The one next to it. Fíli, you come here almost every day, I would have thought you’d know what a cake hoop was by now.”

He scoffed and picked up the round hoop, sticking his hand through it and twirling it on his wrist and he circled the table. “I come here for you and your treats, you don’t give me baking lessons.” He stood behind her and leaned his chin on her shoulder, holding the hoop out for her to take.

“Are you asking for lessons?” There was a hint of friendly challenge in her voice.

“I’d rather leave the baking to you so I can continue to come bother you every day.”

She took some resting dough from the drawer below and kneaded it effortlessly. It was an activity she usually enjoyed, but now all she could think about was Fíli’s chest barley touching her back. “You don’t bother me, Fíli.”

“You enjoy my visits?”

She flipped the ball of dough and pounded it with her fist. “Can you hand me the jar of flour? I can never reach it, it’s behind you on the top shelf.”

“I will after you answer my question.” His breath tickled her neck.

“Fíli.”

“Do you enjoy my visits?”

She reached across the table and took a cake off the cooling rack. She shoved it in his face without turning around. “Eat this and stop asking me that.”

He chuckled and disappeared from her. Seconds later, the jar of flour landed on the counter next to her. “It’s delicious,” Fíli said, words gooey with cake. He leaned on the other side of the table, giving her the space she needed to work. “What else did you make today?”

Her vigorous kneading made her voice shake and Fíli chewed on his cake in order to hide his amused smile. “In the oven is a cake- a new recipe- and it looks good so far, but I don’t think I’ll make it again. It needs twenty-six egg yokes.” She finished with a wince.

“Twenty-six?”

“Yes! And the egg whites had to be whipped for what felt like eternity. I thought my hand was going to fall off.”

He glared at the cake in the oven, cursing it for causing her anything but joy. “What made you want to make this cake in the first place?”

“It’s supposed to be really good!”

His hearty laugh mixed with the cake almost choked him. “I’m sure it will be! And you’ll sup with us tonight.”

Her kneading slowed. “Oh, no, I have to clean everything and it won’t be done in time and I won’t be ready and-”

“I’ll come help you clean-”

“No, you won’t!”

“Yes, I will. I’ll come after my training session with Kíli. You deserve to eat what you’ve so painstakingly baked!” His brows flew up again as they so often did when he was waiting for her to argue with him.

She sighed. “All right. Thank you, Fíli.” She returned to her work, grinning at her hands and glancing up to see him watching her. Then she stopped. “Oh! I forgot, I made something you’d like. I want you to try it.” In her excitement, her hands flew out from her sides toward the end of the counter.

“This?” Fíli asked, standing near the treat she gestured to.

She turned over her shoulder as she wiped her hands. “That’s a custard.” She bent into the ice box to retrieve a dish and by the time she straightened, Fíli had already taken a bite of the custard she’d left out to cool.

“No, no! You- you won’t like that,” she said with a wince.

Fíli’s entire face scrunched as if he stuck an overgrown lemon in his mouth instead of a single bite of custard. Then he tilted his head. “It’s actually quite good.”

She set the cool plate on the counter and took a spoon from the drawer. “Don’t be nice, I know how you hate apples.” She didn’t miss his small shiver. “You’ll like this much better, here.” She held out a spoon full of white cream. Instead of taking the spoon from her, Fíli bent to take the end in his mouth, making (Y/N) roll her eyes.

“Mahal,” he groaned. “That is the best thing I’ve ever tasted. What is that?”

“Lemon syllabub. Cream, wine and lemons.” She giggled as he moaned again. “There will be more of this tonight in case the cake is a disaster.”

Fíli stole another spoonful. “Nothing you make could ever be anything less than delicious.”

“Just in case.”

He hummed. With his eyes closed in bliss, (Y/N) was able to watch him in peace. His tongue waved over his smiling lips. Pink on pink, soft, plush, pillowed-

“Aren’t you going to be late for your training session?” she asked.

“You’re right, I should go. Though I don’t know how much sparring I’ll be able to do with a belly full of your sweets.”

“I’m not sorry for it,” she said, rolling a few cakes in a thin towel. “I don’t know a dam alive who doesn’t love a full dwarf belly.” She met him by the door and gave him the little package. “These are for Kíli. Go give them to him now, don’t keep him waiting.” Her light hand found Fíli’s waist as she kissed his cheek. She chuckled at his surprise and gave him a little shove, closing the door behind him and returning to her work.

She couldn’t stop grinning as she hummed her favorite tune and continued kneading the dough she’d left on the counter. She was entertained by the dwarf who could flirt endlessly but couldn’t handle a small kiss from her. Pride bubbled in her chest at the thought of his wide eyes and tomato red ears.

The door flew open and startled her.

“Fíli, what’s wrong?”

Once the wrapped cakes were set safely on the counter, he took her face in his hands and kissed her. He smiled against her lips when her hands again found his waist, bunching his tunic in her fists. He drew away with a wide grin. “Which hand almost fell off because of that cake?”

She stuck up her sore hand, silent and stunned.

He took it and kissed her knuckles and then her palm. He grabbed the cakes and said, “I’ll be back in a bit. Leave the dirty dishes for me.” And he ran out the door to meet Kíli.

Taglist! @emrfangirl @misslongcep @raindancer2004 @ladybugg1235 @xxbyimm @burningcoffeetimetravel @fizzyxcustard @fire-flv @nerdbirdsworld @dashesofink @teagarages @dark-angel-be-thirsty-af @zulfiya-the-warrior-princess @winchesterandpie @marigoldvance

#fili x reader #fili friday #the hobbit #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit fanfic #the hobbit fic #dean o'gorman x reader

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writingdreamsnottragedies · 5 years ago

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BTS Reaction // How you meet them

Namjoon

Art galleries were a real asset to you. Not only on rainy days you were drawn to the cool rooms full of works of art, even when the sun was in the clear sky you preferred to spend your time there. When you received the booklet of a gallery announcing an exhibition of your favorite artist, your next visit was already fixed.

As so often you avoid the first days of the exhibition to keep away from the big visitor crowds. The day you finally enter the rooms is sunny and hot, a day when most people prefer a cool drink and the outdoor pool. You like the way your footsteps echo in the empty corridors, the silence turns the place into something magical. Apart from an inconspicuous man with a cap, you really seem to be the only visitor and it is a great feeling, as you can completely lose yourself in the vision of the artist. You read every single description, let it work on you and add your own interpretations.

Only when you sit down on one of the benches after a while to rest for a moment you notice the man again. He enters the room after you and just like you he seems to barely notice you. You watch him for a while. Like you, he goes from painting to painting and just like you, he looks at each one intensively. He seems to think the same way as you and several times you find yourself connecting him in your mind with the paintings and creating completely new works of art. He stays longer at one painting and you can see how he frowns. The words come over your lips as if by themselves: “This is one of the best pictures of him”. The young man flinches and instinctively takes a step back before turning to you. Apparently, he didn’t notice your presence until now. “It’s even my favorite, but I can’t figure it out.” He looks up and you can see in his facial expression that this is a condition he does not experience too often.

You smile and pat the bench next to you: “I can tell you what I think about it, if you like.” The man seems to think for a moment, then he comes to you: “I’m Kim Namjoon”. He sits down next to you, looks at you expectantly: “So what did the artist want to express with this painting?”

Seokjin

At first you weren’t sure if it was a good idea to accompany your little sister to her primary school’s cooking competition, but she almost begged you, as your parents were prevented by work at short notice. Your dad had indicated in advance that he wanted to make homemade pasta and so you spent nights trying to make more or less successful attempts in your own kitchen before the big day arrived.

Now that you are standing at one of the kitchen counters, you realize that the preparation was worth it. Even your little sister has her fun, every time she turns the pasta machine and watches with fascination how the dough ball flattens more and more and finally turns into fine tagliatelle.

You’re weighing the flour for another load of pasta, this time with little mushrooms in the dough, which are cleaned by your sister, when a voice interrupts your concentration.

“Excuse me?”

You pause in your activity and look up. A man stands in front of you and for a moment your breath stops because he is so incredibly handsome. He’s holding a salt shaker in his hand. When he notices that he has your attention, he turns it around. For a short moment you think all the salt would fall on your work surface, but nothing happens: "We made a mistake”. The man points to a little boy a few seats away who is staring curiously at you. On the work surface you can see a real collection of vegetables and other ingredients: “My nephew and I have bought so much that we forgot the salt”. A smile comes over your lips: “I’ll see if we have any left.” You go to the bags that still contain some of your own purchases: “My name is Seokjin, but Jin is enough” You repeat his name before returning to him: “Nice to meet you. My name is Y/N” With a triumphant grin, you hold out the packet of salt to him: “But don’t use it all at once.” He laughs and thanks you, and prepares to leave. But then he turns to you once again:

“By the way, it doesn’t mean that we’ll lose just because I had to borrow some salt” Your grin widens as you turn back to the flour: “We’ll see”.

Yoongi

You had already taken many jobs during your holidays, but working in your uncle’s furniture store was something new. But you didn’t mind, the other employees were friendly and every week you were assigned to a different department. Not only did you learn a lot about the advantages of certain materials and types of furniture, you also came into contact with a wide variety of customers. In short, you enjoyed the work and were proud when your first recommendation was actually bought.

This week you were assigned to the team of the bed department and here you liked it best by far. Elderly people appreciated that you recommended the softest mattresses to them and children loved you for letting them jump on the beds while no one was looking. Sometimes, when time allowed and their parents were provided with your colleague, you played hide-and-seek with them in the children’s bed department and pretended not to see them through the elaborate knight’s castle and princess beds.

Your shift is coming to an end and you have to admit you’re exhausted. Especially today had been a turbulent day and all you wanted to do was go home. However, you promised your colleague that you would make another inspection tour of the department. As always, you pass the children’s section and look at one of the largest beds. A canopy bed with a ladder and slide. You remember the fun you had with a little girl a few hours before and decide that it can’t hurt to end the day with a little slide. But when you successfully climbed the ladder a little scream escapes you. There’s a man in the bed. He must have heard your reaction, because his eyes open and look at you drowsily:

“What are you doing in my room?”

Your heart is racing, but you force yourself to stay calm: “Sir, I’m sorry…” “Min Yoongi” he throws in and slowly straightens up as he rubs his eyes. The completely absurd thought that he looks good with the tousled hair hits you and you can’t shake it off: “Mr. Min…we are already closed. I must ask you to leave” He looks at you and slowly he seems to understand: “Oh…” he mumbles. Then he lets himself fall back on the mattress: “Seems like I have to buy this bed. I have not slept so well in a long time”.

Hoseok

That morning you thought the coffee stain on your favourite top was the worst thing that could happen. You knew better by now.

Actually, you were just trying to make him happy. A lunch, homemade to bring something to his work, so he could skip the canteen. You’d gone to all that effort, standing in the kitchen all morning.

However, your boyfriend had decided to get his meal somewhere else. That and more.

Your steps feel heavy as you walk across the terrain. A few people, on their way to their lunch break, stare at you and you try to suppress your tears as best you can, but you might not be able to. At some point you give up, let yourself sink to the ground a little off the beaten track. Now you’re letting your tears run free. A thousand thoughts are spinning around in your head. Why had he done that? Weren’t you good enough? Not pretty enough? “What the hell is wrong with me?”

“Only your tears”.

Your vision is blurred and therefore it takes a while before you can recognize the person in front of you. He kneels before you. You can see neither pity nor amusement in his face, instead a gentle smile adorns his lips. He holds a handkerchief out to you. First you hesitate, then you take it. You don’t care that he can see you wiping your nose after you sniffle a few times. Then you wipe the back of your hand over your eyes: “Thank you” “Do you want to talk about it? I am known for giving hope to others and bringing a little sunshine into their lives” The way he says it, the way he smiles at you makes you smile too. Which in turn makes his smile even wider: “See, it already works! You look much prettier with a smile than with tears.” He turns away, only to turn back to you a few moments later to again hold something out to you. This time it’ s a daisy: "I’m Hoseok, but most people call me J-Hope, because i’m their hope. Let me be your hope too".

Jimin

Orientation had never been your strength, but it had never been as bad as now. Actually, you were gonna meet your best friend in the city. You had just moved to Seoul and didn’t know your way around yet. That’s how, without knowing it, you got off one station too early. With the thought of being in the right place, you set off, always looking for the mall where you wanted to meet. You hadn’t noticed how you were moving away from the main roads and into quieter areas where there were hardly any people.

By the time you realize your mistake, it’s already too late. Nervously you look around you, but you can no longer make out where exactly you have come from. You pull out your cell phone to call your friend, but then realize your next mistake, because the battery is in a dangerous red zone. Panic is rising in you. You have no idea where you are and people just walk past you from time to time. None of them looks like they are going to help you when you ask for directions and you are not sure if your fear would even allow it. The longer you are in this state, the more your surroundings seem to turn, the more dull the sounds in your ears become. You’re about to just sit on the street when you hear a voice. It is clear, distinct and beautiful. Something about it seems to calm you down. Even if you run the risk of getting even more lost you follow instinctively.

You land in an alleyway that ends at a stairway. A man sits on it. Over his full lips come the most beautiful sounds you have ever heard. When he notices you, he stops immediately. The sudden halt also brings you back to reality and you become aware again of the situation you are in. Your face seems to speak for itself, because the look of the man becomes concerned. Carefully he comes towards you, “Are you all right?” “I’m… I’m lost.” Your voice trembles and yet the words bubble out of your mouth: “I panicked and then I heard you singing and followed your voice and…” You break off because you feel so stupid, but the man just laughs: “Then you can be glad that I am not a siren”. He walks past you, then he turns and reaches out his hand to you: “I’ m Jimin. Tell me where you need to go, and I can take you there.”

Taehyung

The sun is just rising as you leave your apartment. It’s still fresh and you’re thinking about going back inside to get a jacket. But your dog has other plans and a pull on the leash makes it clear to you that a return would only be possible after an extensive walk.

As so often, your route takes you through the city park, at this time of the day still empty and not overcrowded as in the later hours. There is dew on the grass, the air is fresh and you pause for a moment to take a deep breath. Then you let your dog off the leash and let her run free. As good as she is she always stays close to you and finally you sit down on a bench to welcome the first rays of sunshine on your face. Soon your bitch will lie down next to your feet and you will enjoy the peace and quiet that you can only have in the early morning. Suddenly you see something. It’s small and it’s coming towards you. You can’t recognize it immediately, but your dog jumps up excitedly, which also makes you attentive. Before you even know it, a little dog is joining you. The two sniff each other shortly before they start playing together. You let it happen and try to look for the owner, but there is no need to do so, because instead you can hear him:

“Yeontan? Yeontan!”

He comes out of the undergrowth at the edge of the path. When he sees the little dog, he runs towards him and takes him in his arms: “Yeontan! You’re okay!” His clothes are dirty and in his dark hair a few leaves are hanging. You can’t help but laugh. He looks up and only now seems to notice you and your dog: “Thank you so much for finding him!” “I didn’t.” You point to your dog, “She did. The two seem to get along well”. As if to underline your words, the little dog starts fidgeting in the man’s arms so that he has to put him down. Again both dogs start to romp together. Your gaze wanders from them back to the man and your finger points to his head: “You should do something about that” “Huh?” he strokes through his hair and a lot of leaves fall to the ground, something that only makes you laugh harder. He joins in as he brushes his hair a few times and then pats the earth off his clothes. Then he turns back to you, “Thank you again… um…” “Y/N. I’m Y/N” “Nice to meet you. I’m Taeyhung.”

Jungkook

Being out with your friends made you bloom. Were you usually rather shy and reserved, with them you were open and ready for any fun. You had ice cream together, took some pictures of each other making faces. At some point you started to give one another some fun tasks. You watched as one of your friends gave a real dance performance and another one had an extremely interesting conversation with some pigeons.

When it is your turn, your stomach already hurts, you had to laugh so much. Your friends whisper to each other and you wonder what kind of task you will get. Finally, one of them turns to you. She points her finger at something: "Pretend you know him and ask him for an autograph!” The smile disappears from your lips: “I can’t do that” “Come on Y/N!” another one of your friends laughs: “I talked to pigeons! You can do it!” You keep trying to talk it out, but eventually you give in. Sighing, you get ready before you approach the man. He stands with his back to your group and seems to be completely absorbed in his mobile phone. You hesitate for a moment, because you don’t want to bother him, but then you pull yourself together: “Excuse me?”

He turns to you and there’s a brief flash of confusion on his face before he looks at you: “Yes?” You, on the other hand, are distracted because you didn’t expect a cute guy like that to be standing in front of you: “I’m… I’m…” All the self-confidence you’ve built up for this action seems to have faded away: “I mean, I’d like to…” “I understand.” He smiles at you encouragingly and pulls a pencil out of his jacket: “I am on a private tour, so please don’t take any photos”. Now you don’t understand anything anymore: “No, I…I’m only supposed to ask for an autograph because my friends put me up to it…like a dare.” You look back at your friends because the whole thing gets more and more uncomfortable with every stiffening second. They stand a few feet away and lift their thumbs so the guy can’t see, “What’s your name?” “Y/N” You hear him laugh, you look at him again. He stretches out two pieces of folded paper to you: “You can show one to your friends. The other one…” For a moment you think you can see blush in his face: “Please keep the other one to yourself”. He gives you another smile before he suggests a slight wave, turns around and leaves.

You also go back to your friends and show them the paper with the autograph. In the evening you take out the second piece of paper the man gave you. There’ s a little note on it: “My name is Jungkook. If you like, I would like to have a coffee with you sometime”. Underneath you find a phone number.

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