#I’d dress up just so I could have an ounce of joy before being absolutely demolished

[suggsnkisses]

He’s the only one on the team that dressed up and this is what he came as 😭

[okay-j-hannah]

You Really Like Hugs

Preference 

Characters: Tenth Doctor, Eleventh Doctor, and Newt Scamander

Warnings: None... just that I would like a hug now 😂

Request: “Preference, 10th, and 11th Doctor and Newt Scamander with a mom friend reader who really likes hugs 💜” @memoirs-of-a-crow

~~~

Tenth Doctor

“I’m fine.”

“You’re always saying that.”

He limped about the console, a smug look on his face. “That’s because I’m right.” And when he caught the raised eye from his companion, he backtracked, “Well, usually right.”

(Y/N) peered at the way he held a stitch in his side – how he preferred to stand on one foot over the other. She mutely pointed at the set of chairs next to her, watching the smugness melt away.

“I really am fine.” He stumbled slightly on his way over to her.

“You keep saying it… but I’ll be the judge on whether it’s true or not.” She couldn’t help but scrunch her brows in a concerned way as she watched him struggle moving.

He kept his classic smile trained on his face as he stood before her, “Time Lords heal faster than you think.”

“And I’ll feel better if I know you’re okay.” She grazed his jacket and noticed him wince, “Move your hand; let me see.”

She didn’t look to see how he stared at her worried glance. He hesitated, not wanting to create more fear after they’d just escaped from it outside. But he reluctantly lowered his hand, revealing a film of blood on his palm.

(Y/N) gasped, a knot twisting in her stomach, “This is your definition of fine?” Her voice was angry despite the sadness in her face.

The Doctor didn’t like being the cause of it, “It’s not so bad. I’ve already started rapid healing.” He spoke quickly, moving to raise his dress shirt. There was a harsh red mark, slightly scabbed over and covered in dried blood.

(Y/N) had moved her hands to cover her mouth as he showed her the wound. And she kept her hands there regardless of knowing he was healing all right. The Doctor frowned, his eyes twinkling as he gazed at her.

“I told you I’m fine. Nothing a new shirt can’t fix.” His voice was soft now, no hint of smugness or exasperation. He knew what she needed without her uttering a word in response.

He held out his arms, twiddling his fingers. She lifted her scared eyes to his warm ones, “You always have me going half mad with worry.” And she fell right into his arms, holding him tight, “I couldn’t stand it if I couldn’t help you.”

Her hands bunched into his jacket, squeezing the life out of him. It made the Doctor smile, “You’re helping me right now.” He wound his arms more securely around her, grinning into her hair.

Eleventh Doctor

(Y/N) waltzed about the room, drinking and laughing. Everyone around took in her infectious smile and couldn’t help but join in with the party.

The lights were dim, the music raised to an almost uncomfortable level, and (Y/N) was having the time of her life. She twirled around, lifting her drink into the air and cheering towards the crowd of people gathering around her.

They egged her on, bouncing and dancing right alongside her – Amy was somewhere nearby dragging Rory by the arm. (Y/N) beamed, loving the atmosphere of everyone having fun.

Needless to say she was a fan of surprise parties.

The Doctor was under the entryway, observing from afar. He had a stupid little smile on his face as he watched his companion bob and weave through the crowd. He absolutely shined at the enjoyment in her eyes.

(Y/N) was always such a comfort to him, the longest companion he’s had yet. And it was about time he started returning the favor; she needed some more fun after the worry she had taking care of him.

Because that’s exactly what she did – she took care of him. What would he do without her constant fretting and annoying questions? Or without her chocolate chip cookies and welcoming hugs?

He needed to make sure she understood how much he needed her around.

It was almost startling how quickly (Y/N) danced her way over; he didn’t notice her leave the crowd.

“Doctor!” She yelled over the music, still keeping in time with the song. “This is one hell of a party!”

His eyes glittered, knowing full well that if his bowtie could twirl on its own, it would right now. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it!” And she flung her arms around his neck, pulling him close.

Though a fan of hugs, giving them frequently himself, the Doctor always paused before returning one from (Y/N). He saw them as an honor, a comfort, and it was always a skip in his heartbeats whenever he received one.

But he wrapped her up in his arms and lifted her lightly off the ground. A goofy smile plastered itself on his face, spinning her around once before putting her down.

“You are such a joy to be around, (Y/N). You absolutely deserve this.”

She graced him with a smile, “And you are such a charmer Mr. Fez Man.” And she settled against his chest, keeping him close. She was completely oblivious to how he rested his head against hers, closing his eyes and reveling in her loving embrace.

Newt

Newt stood there awkwardly in the corner, observant and distant from the rest of the dinner guests. He watched as his brother stole his best friend, capturing every ounce of her attention in laughs and smiles.

He kept his face unreadable, swirling a forgotten drink in his hands. He would never admit it, but he could do with one of (Y/N)’s hugs right about now. But apparently she was too busy falling for his arrogant, idiot brother.

Newt was never a big fan of parties, but made appearances for Theseus’ sake, and because (Y/N) enjoyed going out. She always wanted to check up on her friends and others she cared about.

Of course that’s why she was best friends with Newt – she was always checking up on him. She felt the need to take care of him and all the better because Newt was never good at making friends.

“Merlin, does he ever shut up?” (Y/N) came trailing over towards Newt, eyeing him suspiciously. He knew she was assessing how he was doing.

“My brother is fond of an audience.”

“Yeah, took me only four seconds to figure it out.” She laughed her glorious laugh and then quieted at the lack of response from her friend. But she knew exactly how to handle it, “I thought I’d escape and come over here. I’d much rather hang around you than Theseus any day.”

He couldn’t help but feel the corner of his mouth lift in a hesitant smile, “It’s not quite as lively over here.”

And she gave him a concerned look, waiting for him to meet her gaze. When he didn’t, she took the liberty to wind herself around him, wrapping her arms about his waist. She waited longer still until he returned the hug with light and shaky hands.

“I’m all right, (Y/N). There’s no need for hugs at a dinner party.”

She smirked into his chest, pulling away and feeling him drop his arms immediately. He always did that, trying to make sure he didn’t make her uncomfortable.

“You think that was for you?” she laughed, “That hug was for me. I knew you’d make me feel better.”

Newt flittered his eyes towards hers, gauging if what she said was just for his benefit.

“This hug, however, is for you.” She grinned, pulling him in again and giggling slightly into his chest.

He let out a slightly exasperated sigh, smiling despite himself. He wasn’t as cautious this time as he wound his arms around her shoulders.

~~~

Buy Me a Coffee?

Tag List:

@caswinchester2000 @aria253264 @bippity-boppity-boopa  @emilythezeldafan 

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[crimsonophelia]

hi basil !! can i request for an imagine with zhongli and an adeptus reader? the reader has been in love w him since the archon war but never told him bc they were scared, and when rex lapis “dies” they’re absolutely crushed. but when they see a certain funeral consultant preparing his funeral, they tell him about their friendship w rex lapis and how they regret never telling him how they felt. thank you!

featuring: zhongli x gn!reader

warnings: angst, a little suggestiveness, some god complex stuff if you squint hard enough, typos lol

published: may 14, 2021

form: imagine

a/n: hi anon! thank you for the request~ i’m assuming reader recognizes zhongli in his mortal form and confesses in that way! in canon, it’s kind of dubious whether or not zhongli explicitly told the adepti that he actually isn’t dead, but i’m going to take some creative liberties and assume that he tells some of his adepti friends that he’s alive in person, like so~

Time slowed to a halt, as the body of the magnificent dragon, Rex Lapis, plummeted to the earth from the heavens, like a meteor summoned by Celestia. You felt like it was all a cruel, eldritch dream that the Archons had cursed you with, frozen among the crowd of onlookers, as the body tumbled, tumbled, and fell in a lump at the alter. Not a single sound emerged from the crowd, as they all stared in horror.

To them, their deity, their Archon who had pulled Liyue from the depths of the abyss and ascended it to wealth and prosperity, had come crashing down to earth in front of their eyes. But to you... Rex Lapis was your world. It was not Liyue that he saved from the grasp of darkness, but rather, you, you were the one he rescued. It was you to whom Rex Lapis had shown more compassion than you had ever thought possible coming from any living being—warm hands grasping your cold limbs, pulling you up, up, and up, into the light of day, giving you a purpose. A reason to live.

The body lied there, as Lady Ningguang acted fast, trying to ease the onlookers, her own horror still painted visibly upon her usually cold and composed countenance. The corpse of your god still retained some semblance of life, you thought, scales still glimmering with a slight sheen, mane fluttering in the wind of commotion, almost as if he were glowing with vibrant life not a few moments ago.

Please. Rex Lapis. Please don’t leave me. I have so much left to tell you. 

*****

“Master!”, you called. “Wait for me!”

You ran to catch up with archon, who had begun his daily routine of assessing the growth of his blossom trees. Tianheng Shan was a favorite location of Rex Lapis, particularly in the springtime when all the flowers on the treas began to bloom, and the glowing flowers that sprouted from the ground took root and broke up from beneath the soil.

Rex Lapis, hands locked behind his back, looked back at you, as you joined him at his side.

“Hello there, [y/n]. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

The archon really did behave like an old-spirited mortal, you thought. He had the mannerisms and idiosyncrasies down to a tee, certainly the polar opposite of the likes of Barbatos.

“I was just about to view the blossoms as well! They should be in season within a week or two”, you responded innocently. This certainly wasn’t an opportunity purely to spend time alone with Rex Lapis. You would never be so silly.

The both of you strolled along the banks of the river, eventually reaching an opening where tens, even hundreds, of pink-blossomed trees wove their way about the bottoms of the cavernous cliffs, some delicate petals already beginning to fall, sprinkling upon the river like memories across the stream of time.

Rex Lapis proceeded past you, craning his neck upwards to get a closer look at the blossoms. As he did so, the hood of his robe fell back down onto his shoulders, revealing long, silky locks of earthy amber resting upon shoulders as hardened as Cor Lapis.

“Quite lovely, aren’t they?”, he mused, almost absentmindedly. “These yinghua are often mistaken for taohua—yinghua do not produce fruit, and their blossoming period is much shorter.” For some reason, you thought, the archon’s gaze seemed to stray elsewhere, somewhere beyond the mass of trees.

“That is why the yinghua is renowned for its beauty. Its life is fleeting, yet so utterly captivating.”

Now, it was all gone. All that was left was a husk—a shell of the god you loved and devoted every ounce of your existence to. A mere gnarled tree that once possessed a beauty that transcended seasons.

*****

You entered the foyer of Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, hearing the bell jingle solemnly as the door closed behind you. The place seemed to be rather empty, with nobody manning the front desk. Assorted coffins and various floral wreaths adorned the rooms of the parlor, a rather gauche little showroom of death. The taste and aesthetics reflected quite well the nature of the parlor’s director.

You treaded through the silent shop, wood creaking beneath your feet. The building must be quite old, you supposed.

“Hello?”, you called out. “Is anybody here?”

Before you could take another step, you heard a man’s voice coming from a back room, tucked away behind the main desk and obscured by a curtain.

“Just a minute, please. I will be with you shortly”, the voice called back.

After some further rustling emitting from what you guessed was the storage room, a man stepped out from behind the curtain, slightly ducking below the doorframe due to his rather imposing height.

Dressed in sharp formalwear, hair tied neatly behind his head in a long ponytail, he stepped forward from behind the desk. You noticed a geo vision dangling from the belt at his waist. How familiar, you thought. Something about him tugged at a string deep inside you, but for the life you, you couldn’t put a finger upon it.

“Greetings, how may I be of service to you?”, the man queried, amber eyes penetrating into you. There it was again. Maybe it was his voice, or his gaze, or perhaps just the way he carried himself, that felt so awfully familiar. His words seemed so... warm, even. Like some fond old memory that is slipping off the precipices of your brain. I must be going mad, you thought. One thousand years and still fawning over every handsome man I see.

Clearing your throat, you replied, “Yes, I am here on behalf of Lady Ningguang and the Qixing. We are looking for a supply of flowers to send off Rex Lapis at his funeral next week.” The man eyed you, curiously. “I was wondering if perhaps you could suggest a suitable flower wreath, preferably something in-season.”

Without a response, your odd companion began to walk towards an adjacent room attached to the lobby, hands crossed behind his back, quite like an old man, although he looked to be in his early thirties, at most. Assuming you were to follow, you stepped into a side room filled with vibrant flower wreaths of all sizes and colors.

The man begun to the scan the selection closely, as you stood to the side and watched him work. Oddly enough, the silence in the room wasn’t awkward, but was even quite comforting, in the same way a blanket warms a body.

Settling upon a modest, pink-flowered wreath of bouquets, he turned to you, indicating that he has decided upon a suggestion. He turned to you, those same eyes once again boring into you. Those were not the eyes of a young man, but something much, much more ancient, and for a moment, you stood frozen, frightened.

“Might I suggest the lovely yinghua? They are a personal favorite.”

White. White was all you saw for seconds, and when you opened your eyes, everything looked crisper, like a veil had been lifted. The world felt clearer, your thoughts came at you with greater clarity, but above all, it was no longer the funeral parlor manager that stood in front of you.

It was him. Rex Lapis.

The room started to twist and warp again, but this time not because of the spell of fog that the archon had cast to maintain your ignorance, but rather because of the salty tears clouding your vision, and the pressure of pure relief, joy, and utter agony that brought you collapsing to your knees, right then and there.

You couldn’t believe it. What about the body? Was that a mere fabrication ? Or was this vision before you an illusion, an echo of the past that had somehow manifested itself in front of you? Why would Rex Lapis do this to you, make you endure such pain? If he knew how much you loved him, how much gratitude you felt for him, how much you didn’t want to move on without him—

“Oh Archons, [y/n], please, I’m so, so sorry—”, he uttered. You felt a soft pressure surrounding you, as you became vaguely aware that the man you loved was now embracing you, the both of you huddled on the floor. “Please forgive me, I hate myself for it but I had to do it, and for the pain I have caused you, I’d much rather die, myself. ”

You could barely understand his words over the sound of your own weeping, forgoing all manners and letting your tears run free. You felt your master tighten his arms around your middle, as if scared to let you go, after already sacrificing you once.

You mustered up the strength to look up at him, seeing that now the dragon’s eyes themselves had become watery with emotion, something you had never seen in the archon before. The regret you felt was threatening to burst from your throat, a lump preventing you from being civil, or talking like a proper adeptus, or confessing your feelings to the man who you owed your life to. No more. No more weakness that plagued your heart for centuries. You may never have this opportunity again.

“[y/n], I beg of you, please forg-“

You pulled your savior’s face towards you, and without hesitation, placed your lips upon his. Too long, had this moment been forgone, and the both of you knew it, as the archon gradually deepened the kiss, intertwining his hands through your hair. This was life. The clarity of it all, the energy surging into you from the points where your skin touched, the infinity of your lips melding against his. This is the god you worshipped and would lay your life down for. Without him, there is nothing.

His lips, initially hesitant, grew more confident, more desperate as they clung onto yours. His fingers were soft as they traced the back of your neck, as if trying to memorize each one of your vertebrae. A feral yearning, something only a dragon was capable of, was unhinging behind Rex Lapis’ ministrations, as you proudly latched yourself deeper into him. The silence of the parlor was now filled with heavy pants and the rustling of fabric, as the two of you clung onto each other, one not wanting to depart before the other.

As you felt the breath in your lungs dwindling, having given all of your life and energy to Rex Lapis’ mortal body, you pulled yourself off of him. Streaks of wetness along his cheeks glinted in the late afternoon sunlight filtering through the windows. His hair had become undone in the minutes where he had been attached to you, and his face showed something of a quenched desperation. He was mortal, and he was perfect.

“Promise me. Promise me, that you will stay by my side forever.”

a/n: ohoho i hope you like it anon~ this is a little bit spicier than i usually write but tbh i kinda vibe w it

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Serenade (Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader) Pt. 11

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language Warnings: Nope! Notes: Here we are, a breath away from the end. This features not one, but FOUR songs written by myself. If you only choose to listen to one of them, listen to the final one (Cradle of Heaven), as it is a duet I wrote specifically for this fanfiction, as something that the reader wrote to play together with Daniela. The links to these songs will be within the fanfiction itself, at relevant times. Past Chapters: Pt. 1: Nocturne, Pt. 2: Overture, Pt. 3: Accelerando, Pt. 4: Toccata, Pt. 5: Poco a Poco, Pt. 6: Elegy, Pt. 7: Harmony, Pt. 8: Obbligato, Pt. 9: Berceuse, Pt. 10b: Hymn AMAB

Chapter 11: Cadence

(Cadence: Two chords that mark the end of a song)

The stage is set, the lights are dimmed, your heart pounds within your chest, and the world is yours. Soon, it will be Daniela’s. She is right by your side, as ever, hand gently taking hold of your own. There’s a silent reassurance in her grip, a reminder that the two of you have overcome a plethora of challenges. A promise that this will be no different. Both of you take a deep breath, in sync, before exchanging a quick kiss. All of your hard work has been leading up to the coming moments. Although you are beyond confident in your lover’s abilities, there is a shadow of doubt in the back of your mind. Not for her sake, but surrounding the expectations held by her mother, the standard against which you would be measured.

“Come hell or high water, Songbird, I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise,” Daniela whispers, squeezing your hand again, eyes unblinking as they stare into yours. “You’ve made every right choice, worked harder than anyone I know, and there is nothing more I can ask of you… except another kiss to celebrate afterwards, that is.” Giggling in response gives you the moment you need to relax, nerves fading into the background of your mind. “Now let’s put on a show the likes of which my mother has never seen, mhmm?”

THREE HOURS EARLIER:

“Here, you can borrow my brooch. It’s been in the family for generations, since before we even came to the village, passed down starting with an ancestor who crafted it himself, from materials he scavenged while fleeing his home country,” Daphne rambles, helping you attach the jewelry to your shirt. Thankfully, her hands do not tremble nearly as much as yours have been for the past hour. “I’m more than sure that Lady Daniela will tell you this much, but I feel the need to repeat just how good you look right now. I don’t know where the hell they’ve been hiding this version of our uniform, but damn do I wish I could get one for my next date with Ygritte. Seriously, if you can get one in my size, please do me that favor.”

“Anything for my best friend. Especially after all the times you’ve saved my ass these past few months,” you reply, pausing to give her shoulder an affectionate pat. If not for her constant interference running, someone would have certainly found out about your relationship with Daniela. “Speaking of that… of my life being on the line, I mean… no matter what happens today, no matter what Lady Dimitrescu decides, take care of yourself. You’ve gambled with your own blood to keep me safe, but what I’ve done, what I’ve risked, those were my choices. My consequences. The last thing I’d ever want is for you to pay for them, somehow.”

Rolling her eyes, Daphne gives you a playful shove to the chest, before smoothing out the fabric of your dress uniform. Now she refuses to meet your gaze, a familiar mistiness taking over her brown eyes.

“Nobody around here is stupid enough to think you’ll die today. You managed to get Lady Daniela, of all people, to stay focused long enough to learn some absolutely beautiful pieces of music. You have proved, time and time again, that you are a talented musician, teacher, and ‘servant’. So get out there and kick some metaphorical ass, my friend, because you are ready,” she finally says, offering you what seems to be a handshake. But as soon as your hand meets hers, she’s pulling you in for a hug, holding you tight for a solid minute. When at last you part, you give her what may very well be the last smile she’d ever see gracing your lips.

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

A hand’s edge against xer forehead, parallel to the ground, kept perfectly flat. From anyone else, it would be mockery. From xer? Honest salute, solidarity in a traditional form, accompanied by a sharp-toothed grin. Mimicking the expression, you wave at Ava, glad to see that xe would be awake for your concert. After your first night with your girlfriend, Daphne had helped arrange for someone to be your “cover story” for sleeping outside of your usual quarters. With Daniela’s input (and jealousy), only one candidate had revealed themselves, in the form of a (conveniently) mute butler with an inconsistent schedule, love of mischief, and somehow the respect of the Dimitrescu family. Now, xe appeared ready to escort you to the location of your trial by fire.

“Are you sure our mutual friend won’t be upset to see the two of us together?” You teased, knowing full well that Ava was one of the only people that Daniela trusted 100% around you. In response, xe gives an exaggerated shrug, then quickly links xer arm with your own. Together you march onwards to your destiny, amused by the way xe practically skipped down the hallway. Maybe there was a certain wisdom to xer shenanigans, a carefree philosophy that encouraged laughter in the face of death, and you embraced the thought with a smile.

Before long, however, the two of you encounter another unlikely pair headed towards the same destination: Lady Cassandra, looking somewhat embarrassed, with an unfamiliar maiden at her side. Their hands are clutching each other desperately, although neither of them dares to look at the other. Instead they both watch you closely from where they’ve paused in the corridor. Oddly unfazed, Ava gives them a short bow of acknowledgement, earning xer a brief nod from Cassandra. Seeming eager to move on, she addresses you quickly before gesturing for you to keep walking.

“Good luck. Don’t fuck this up for Daniela, or I’ll never hear the end of it,” she growls, doing her best to downplay her obvious concern. Wanting to let her keep up with her facade, you merely give a nod as you resume walking towards the concert stage. Soft footsteps behind you let you know that the strange pair are accompanying you. Still walking alongside you, Ava repeatedly glances behind you, putting out xer hands in the shape of a heart, giggling all the while. If you didn’t know any better, you would almost assume that xe wanted to get hit by Cassandra.

“Ava, please calm down. If you’re not careful, she’ll throw something at you. If she does that, you’ll probably dodge, and then I’ll probably end up getting hit, and then I’ll miss the concert, Lady Dimitrescu will kill me as punishment, Daniela will be sad and whiny about it, and none of you will have any peace for, like, a month. Three weeks, bare mims,” you tease, nudging xer in the ribs. Emphasizing a pout, xe sends one last look at Cassandra and her ‘friend’ (whose hand she was still holding onto like a lifeline), mouthing words you couldn’t parse. Based on the way Cassandra groans, it was something ridiculously cheesy. Regardless, xe behaves the rest of the way there…

ONE MINUTE TO SHOWTIME:

“I love you, Firefly, and I know that you’re going to do absolutely amazing out there. I’m so proud of you,” you murmur, pressing a feather-light kiss to Daniela’s cheek. As dearly as you wish to stay behind the curtain, in her arms, you know that the show was inevitable. With one last nod to your beloved, you part the fabric shielding you, stepping into the spotlight. Imaginary crowds grow hushed at your appearance, a sea of faces greeting you warmly. In truth, there are but five members in this audience, each gazing upon you with veiled interest. Donning you best presentation persona, you set this final act in motion. “Lady Dimitrescu, Lady Cassandra, Lady Bela, and Mx. Caldwell, it brings me great pleasure to present to you, on this day, a concert performed by your own Lady Daniela. For three months now I have acted as her instructor, and these three months have been, perhaps, the most rewarding of my entire life. I could not possibly be any more proud of her than I already am. Now, without further ado… let us begin!”

Stepping to the side, a tug of a rope has the curtains parting entirely, revealing your beloved, waiting ready at the piano. All at once your audience (including Cassandra’s partner, acting as a mere servant in the background) sits up with wide smiles. They look Daniela over, taking in the sight of her fanciest dress, and the way her eyes light up with joy. By the time her fingers begin dancing away at the keys, there is not a single ounce of anxiety in your entire soul. This first song is a relic from your past, a representation of an abandoned idea, yet she plays it like a celebration. It’s fast, hits hard, a bold take right out of the gate. Admittedly, it is also somewhat short. Nonetheless, it serves its purpose, igniting a spark of excitement in those present. Once the song ends, Daniela is surprised by the intensity of her family’s applause. In the back of her mind, she trembles with excitement, knowing that the best was yet to come.

Riding this wave of pride, she immediately settles into the next song, something slower but far grander. Affection thrums inside your chest as you watch your pupil perfectly execute another piece. You can only imagine what her mother must be feeling, to see just how far her daughter has come in such a short amount of time. A quick glance in Alcina’s direction reveals the barest hints towards her being impressed. For now that was enough to satisfy you. Soon enough her face would twist in surprise, as the second song ended, and a new face steps up onto the stage: Lady Bela. Wordlessly she retrieves her violin from the back of the stage, then turns to the front with a mischievous smile.

“Now, a duet! Presenting the ever-talented Lady Bela, to join Lady Daniela for a rendition of an original song, dubbed ‘Northern Lights’. Enjoy!” You call out, before once more taking your place at the side. While Daniela did not need you to count her in for her solo performances, this feels ever so slightly more important, and as such you do your best to conduct for the duration of the song. If either of the performers need it, they hide it well. Honestly, you weren’t sure if your girlfriend had looked your way even a single time so far. ‘Twas incredible to witness her. Akin to a siren, near glowing, taking to the stage as if born to grace its center. Even with Bela working her own magic, Daniela is ever the star. Together they weave a lovely song, notes rising high into the air, swirling around an enchanted audience.

When it ends, both performers give a bow, as if the entire affair had come to a close. Without hinting at what was to come, you switch places with the eldest Dimitrescu daughter. A deep breath rattles your ribcage as you find your center, reaching out to take Daniela’s hand, the two of you raising your arms upward in a display of union. For the first time this evening, Lady Alcina narrows her eyes in what feels like disapproval. But you pay her no mind. Instead you sit alongside your beloved, quietly settling into your practiced position.

There is no introduction for this song. No announcement, no showmanship, nor even a countdown into the symphony. Simply, like exhaling a breath, the two of you start to play. Your phrases echo hers, and vice versa, calling and answering, accompanying all the while, natural as anything holy in the wild. ‘Tis the second shortest song of the night, only long enough to showcase the degree of your partnership with Daniela. As the song crescendos into an ending, you manage to meet the gaze of your employer. Perhaps it is merely an illusion of hope, or a reflection of lights above, but you swear you see tears in her eyes.

“Outstanding, incredible,” she praises, rising to her feet alongside her other daughters, clapping all the while. Once again you rise to your feet, hand clasped with Daniela’s, bowing as deeply as you can manage. Before you can even process what’s happening, your girlfriend is being pulled away from you, swept up into the arms of her mother. Desperation digs like a knife into your heart, as you ache to celebrate with her, but you remain ever in the guise of a professional. “You did amazing, my dear. I cannot begin to describe how proud I am.” The family gathers around each other, buzzing with affection fit to make the hardest of hearts melt. You are left on the outside, awkwardly waiting, without a hint of acknowledgment.

Even if this concert was a measure of your skill as a teacher, Lady Dimitrescu had never bothered to consider you more than another servant. This night was about Daniela. About your secret girlfriend, the brightest star in all the skies. That is not something that bothers you, nor does it surprise you. All that makes you wish to weep is the desire to kiss her. To sweep her into your arms, with celebratory kisses, singing her name as a praise to higher powers. In the end, it takes several minutes for Daniela to pull away enough to move back to you, and even then she cannot give you the reaction she yearns for.

“I’ll come by to talk to you tonight, I promise,” she whispers, as she gives you the weakest hug you have ever felt. Then she is returning to her family, clinging to her mother with a massive grin. Soon enough you are left alone on stage, quiet surrounding you, mixed feelings gnawing at the pit of your stomach. Something feels… wrong. You cannot put a name to it. No one has hinted to you what your beloved has planned, for none but her even have a clue. As soon as she is alone with her mother, as soon as she has the smallest sliver of an opportunity, she knows what she must do. “Mother… we need to talk. I... I have a confession to make.”

[mytrashcanlife]

Ashes to Ashes Jasper X Reader Part 3

After a few weeks the two new siblings had settled into the house. Alice was quickly becoming one of your best friends. She took you shopping, constantly, and insisted that even though you no longer had a date you were still going to prom and you were going to be the most sparkly thing there. Jasper on the other hand was never around, at least as far as you could tell. Every time you walked into a room he walked out of it. He didn’t look at you often and you returned the gesture because on the rare occasion you did lock eyes with him he looked like he wanted you six feet under. Alice insists that isn’t true and everyone else says he doesn’t hate you, but he hasn’t shown it at all. Little do you know that when you dance in the living room after convincing Edward to play the entertainer for the one-thousandth time, that he is just on the other side of the pillar in the house. Out of sight but soaking up every ounce of pure joy you give off. Having only felt constant negativity for a long time, your consistent positive emotions were a welcome change, but when you looked at him they turned to discomfort and fear, so he stayed out of your way. There was only one time he really felt you full of fear and concern when he wasn’t around, and it wasn’t a pretty sight.

Rosalie and Emmet had gone hunting and Rosalie had gotten much messier than usual due to Emmet’s hijinks. She thought she was sneaking into the house while you were away, but you saw her come in and go up the stairs. When she reaches the top of the stairs her eyes meet yours in horror.

“Oh my God Rosalie are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Emmet shot a deer and thought it would be funny to throw me at it. You know Emmet. Ha-ha.”

“Rose that doesn’t explain most of this blood are you hurt?”

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. Tis but a flesh wound. I’m going to shower. I’ll be fine. Don’t worry”

You let her go, but not the incident. You bring it up to Emmet and Carlisle and nobody’s stories or explanations were adding up. Carlisle was definitely hiding something from you, and you were at your ropes end. You decided to confront Carlisle about all these issues, and it doesn’t go well. Jasper hears you yelling and goes to investigate. Still out of sight.

“Carlisle I am not some stupid little girl anymore. What aren’t you telling me?”

“(y/n) please just leave it alone. You’ll understand when you’re older.”

“When I’m older? Carlisle I’m an adult. I’ve graduated. Soon I’m going to have to go Out into the world by myself. How much older do I need to be?!”

“Much older!”

“Fine if you won’t tell me I’ll just ask aunt Jane.”

“NO. (y/n) please for your own good just drop it.”

“Carlisle Elizabeth Cullen”

“That’s not my middle name”

“It is now. You have dodged every question I have asked you for years. I didn’t press the issue because I assumed you would tell me when I was an adult, but now I’m eighteen, my boyfriend just dumped me because he found out you were my family, though you all despised him before that. And now I have two new family members that I know nothing about, who look nothing like any of you, one of which looks at me like he wants me dead for absolutely no reason, and I just found my sister trying to sneak upstairs, covered in blood that is most definitely not her own. I want answers Carlisle and I will get them if you won’t tell me I will find someone who will, AM I CLEAR?”

Jasper was still hidden out of sight. Carlisle knew he was there but (y/n) was oblivious. He expected emotions to be rolling off of her, Sadness and Fear among them, but despite the tone of voice she held she was completely calm, no rage just minor annoyance.

“(y/n) everything I have done I did for your safety. Now drop it.”

“Unbelievable.” After a brief pause you decide it’s no use fighting with him. “Emmet!”

Emmet appeared in the doorway. (y/n) knew he was there but she never took her eyes off of Carlisle’s. “What’s up (y/n)?”

“I’ll meet you, downstairs in five. We’re going climbing. You down?”

“Always.”

“Good.” You turned around and ran out of the kitchen and upstairs to your room to get ready.

The next few weeks were more difficult for Carlisle than he expected. Jasper as well. Your normal Happy demeanor had been replaced with complete indifference. You were on a strict schedule and you stuck to it. Never speaking to Carlisle, and never even glancing in Jasper’s direction. You were waiting. The other side of the family would be visiting soon, and you were going to get your answers one way or the other. Soon enough you were out in the field with your usual trinkets waiting for them.

“(y/n) child! It’s so good to see you again.”

“You too uncle Aro.” You smile weakly and give your usual hug. When you pull back Aro has noticed your change in demeanor. He knows but he asks anyway.

“What’s wrong?”

“Where do I even begin? Carlisle is keeping secrets from me and I’m worried. I’ve never given him reason not to trust me but so much has happened that doesn’t add up. He’s dodging my questions and insists for my own safety that I ‘drop it’ and just pretend nothing is wrong.”

“How about you go with Aunt Jane and I’ll talk to Carlisle?”

“If you can get him to stop being so weird by all means.”

You and Jane go back to the house up to your room and you tell Carlisle that Aro is waiting for him in the field and wants to talk.

“Aunt Jane I’m worried.”

“About what dear?”

“You have to promise not to freak out okay?”

“Of course.”

“well, I saw Rosalie a few weeks ago, sneaking upstairs covered in blood. She insists nothing is wrong, but it wasn’t her own. I mean I expect that kind of behavior from Emmet, but Rosalie isn’t one to get dirty you know?”

“That is strange. Anything else bothering you?”

“Yeah we have two new kids Carlisle just adopted and Alice is super sweet, she helps me cook, helps with my homework. She even helped me pick out a prom dress, But Jasper…He gives me the creeps. I swear he looks at me like he wants me dead.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know! I haven’t said two words to the guy, but the others insist he doesn’t hate me.”

“Well I’m sure once Aro talks to Carlisle, you’ll get some answers.”

“Thanks Jane. Hey, can I braid your hair?”

“Of course.” While you are happily braiding intricate patterns into Jane’s hair, the situation is much more tense out on the field. Carlisle already knows what’s coming but he’s not happy about it.

“Aro.”

“Carlisle. My niece is unhappy. She seems to think you’re hiding something from her”

“She’s not your niece. I still don’t know how she came up with that idea. You know what I’m hiding, and you know I can’t tell her.”

“I told you that this charade couldn’t last for forever. You will tell her.”

“Aro it’s your rule that we don’t tell humans about us.”

“I know. You will tell her, and she will turn.”

“She will not.”

“She will. I don’t care who does it or when, but she will turn, and if what I’m hearing about your new members is true I’d be willing to bet who does it.”

“Jasper has his issues but he’s doing much better. He won’t hurt her.”

“I Know. I know that he doesn’t want to hurt her.”

“He isn’t going to.”

“He’s an empath Carlisle haven’t you noticed anything different about (y/n)? or him?”

“He’s not controlling her emotions.”

“I know he’s not if he was she wouldn’t be so scared of him. But she is a constant beacon of joy. She makes Jane of all people smile. After the hell that kid has been through I’m sure he’s enjoying every second of relief her emotions can give him. I’m sure when her dog left her she was pretty upset too.”

“The entire relationship lasted a few weeks.”

“Carlisle you don’t think we keep tabs on that girl? She’s the only person to ever make every member of this family smile on a regular basis, and if anyone or anything threatens her we will take every pleasure in destroying that threat.”

“You’re attached to her? You wanted me to leave her for dead!”

“That was a long time ago Carlisle things have changed. Let me make myself very clear. One of you is going to turn her by the time she’s nineteen or I will do it myself.”

“You speak of threats to her happiness and then threaten it yourself. She would never want to be one of us. She would be miserable.”

“I don’t think so. And you may want to keep your voice down Jane is returning with her now.”

Carlisle turns to see her and Jane walking towards the field. Jane as usual with complicated braids throughout her hair. (y/n)’s smile drops as she walks closer to Carlisle refusing to meet his gaze.

“(y/n)! I trust you had fun with Jane?”

“As always.”

“Did you get our gift?”

“Yes. Thank you so much. It’s beautiful. I have it in my jewelry box at home.”

“Good.” Aro turns back to Carlisle “I trust we’ve come to an understanding. I’ll see you next year.”

“Bye.”

The two of them left and Carlisle walked back to the house with (y/n).

“Are you going to talk to me (y/n)?”

“Are you going to stop being so unnecessarily vague and stop dodging my questions?”

“There are things I can’t tell you”

“then no”

After a few more minutes of silence she spoke once more in exasperation.

“Can you at least tell me why Jasper hates me?”

“He doesn’t hate you.”

“Then why does he avoid me at all costs. Or stare at me like he wants me dead?”

“Ask him.”

“fine I will”

They walk the rest of the way back in silence. Once they were home she immediately ran up the stairs to her room and shut the door. Everything was too much of a headache right now. She just decided to go to sleep for now and deal with everything else in the morning. Meanwhile Carlisle decides it’s best to keep his conversation with Aro a secret from the rest of the family. He’d figure it out later.

[booksimp]

Flame of Autumn - Part Two

A/N: Part two of Midnight at Rita’s is finally here, everyone! Sorry it took so long, I started a new job and I’ve been a bit overwhelmed. As you can tell, I’ve named this series something different. That’s because Midnight at Rita’s was supposed to be a smut one off, but it has a mind of it’s own and has become an actual fic. This will be part two of a series called “Flame of Autumn”. This fic is going to be quite long, and more elaborate than anything I’ve written here so far. I hope you enjoy!

“Oh, fucking hell.” I curse, clapping a hand over my mouth in shock.

Azriel chuckles sardonically, running a hand through his already sex mussed curls, puffing out a shocked breath. His cheeks are an adorable shade of pink, eyes wide.  

“Well said.”

For a few moments, we just sit and feel the bond thrum between us, like the plucked string of a cello. We’re still flushed and dazed, our panting breaths the only sound in the room as we stare at each other. 

A strange intermingling of emotion overwhelms me. Elation, joy, desire. A desire to take hold of Azriel and never, ever be parted from him. But all of it is entirely eclipsed by a sense of dread. It wraps itself around my throat, my heart, like a noose of ice. 

A mate is just another person to lose, to endanger with my own existence. 

The faces of all those that have suffered to protect me, that I ultimately lost, flash across my vision. A macabre version of a scrapbook. Just as easily as he perceived my earlier insecurities, Azriel notices the rising emotions in me. With the mate bond newly revealed, I wonder if the connection we’d felt all night had been the first clue. That, and his uncanny ability to read me like an open book. 

“Sabine, I don’t expect anything from you. But I- I’d like to explore this. We can go at whatever pace you’re comfortable with.” 

His face shines with hope as he takes my hand in his, squeezing gently. A hesitant reach down the bond caresses against me. His eyes are open and earnest, a shy smile on his face. The epitome of honest and trustworthy. 

I wonder what he would think if he knew Sabine isn’t my real name. 

A pang of guilt shoots through me, at the dishonesty of it, and it's suddenly hard to breathe. Lying to others has become disturbingly easy over the years I’ve been in hiding. I’m skilled at it now, diversion and distraction like second nature. But the thought of keeping up the ruse with my mate is unbearable. Having to lie every day, and to the person who should know the absolute truth of myself? I can’t do it. I won’t do it. 

I’m opening my mouth to admit things I haven’t in years, when my mothers face flashes through my mind. She was the first to implore me to hide my abilities, and the first to die because of them. 

“You threaten his crown. He will destroy everything you love to keep you quiet, my girl. You cannot give him more ammunition. You get close to no one. You keep moving. Don’t ever come back here.” 

Her words ring in my ears like I’m hearing them for the first time. I shut my mouth with a snap. I can’t tell Azriel anything, for fear of bringing the wrath of my father down on him. Can I even stay in Velaris? 

When I first heard of the hidden city of the Night Court, heavily guarded by the most powerful High Lord, I rejoiced. Isolated and with a varied population, it made the perfect hiding place. Not to mention that Velaris is far outside the reach of my fathers court. I’ve felt almost safe here, and the thought of leaving this city, of leaving Azriel, has my heart sinking into my stomach. Azriel slowly places a hand on my cheek, breaking me free of my internal struggle. Concern shapes his features, hazel eyes heartbreakingly gentle. He is too perceptive to not see the indecision and fear in me, bond or not. Without meaning to, I speak. 

“Okay.” 

A relieved grin graces his lips. I feel the apprehension fading from him, being replaced with soft joy. It makes my decision for me. Azriel is an Illyrian, not exactly an easy target. We’re in the safest place there is for me. If I guard my secret well enough, I can stay. Stay, and see where this newfound bond leads us. I pray to the Cauldron that I’m not making a stupid, selfish mistake. 

“Are you sure?” His brow furrows, intent on my response.

In that moment, I know that no matter how strongly he feels, Azriel will let me walk away. If I decide he’s not what I want, he would honor my choice no questions asked. It only makes me more certain of my decision. I’ve never been one to tolerate a controlling male.

“Absolutely. Are you?” I ask, inching closer to him, still clutching the sheets against myself.

His eyes flicker down to my chest, and back to my eyes. When a faint blush paints his cheeks, I nearly drop the bedding in shock. So the confident male can get flustered. I file the information away for later, barely containing a smirk. 

“Of course I am, I’ve waited almost six hundred years for you.” His voice is low, each syllable more sure than the last. 

My heart soars inside my chest at his words. Depthless hazel eyes bore into mine, and his shadows brush against my bare skin. They send shivers all along my body, and I edge even closer to him. He meets me in the middle of the bed, his forehead touching mine as his gaze roves over me like I’m a precious, once lost jewel. I do the same, drinking in the sight of the magnificent shadowsinger before me. My mate. 

Long ago, some inexplicable force decided that he belonged to me, and I him. I wonder what makes us so compatible, and I find I’m excited to discover every reason for myself. I want to know all the simple, small details of him like the back of my hand. I want to memorize the planes of his face, every color in his eyes.

If my mother could meet him, I imagine she’d remark on the beautiful grandchildren we’d make her. It's that thought, and the sudden realization that we are both very naked, that has a fierce blush coloring my face. 

“Maybe we should get dressed.” I whisper, only slightly breathless. 

Azriel’s eyes run along my sheet-clad form once more, before he pins me with  that now familiar alluring smile. 

“As you wish.” 

He says again, only making me more flushed at the memory. Without an ounce of shame, the Illyrian rises to his feet and walks to the dresser at the other end of the room. He begins digging through the drawers, before selecting some grey sweatpants and a long sleeve black shirt for himself. I’m still wrapped in his sheets, attempting to not gawk at the unobstructed view of his ass, when Azriel looks over his shoulder at me. He smirks at my obvious observation of his body.

“Do you want something other than your dress? Something more comfortable?”

I look down at the rumpled silk garment on the floor and grimace. He’s right, the thought of shimmying myself into it right now is about as appealing as a cold bath in the middle of winter.

“Yes please. Preferably something a bit warmer.” 

He nods, and picks a few items from his dresser. He places them on the bed before me and fixes me with a sweet, slightly shy grin. 

“Are you hungry? I have pastries from the bakery down the street. I could make coffee?” 

My ears perk at the mention of food, and my stomach grumbles in agreement. I like that instead of pushing me to continue our conversation about our future, he’s making sure I’m fed and comfortable. That warm, light sensation flutters in my belly again.  

“I never turn down coffee or carbs.” I manage to get out, smiling coyly. 

“Noted.” Azriel smiles again, a quiet amusement in his eyes. 

He leaves me to change, heading towards the kitchen to start the coffee. I put on the sweatshirt and black briefs left for me. Both are too big, but they’re warm and soft against my skin. Worlds better than the dress. I pull the collar of the sweatshirt up to my nose and inhale his scent of cedar and moonlight and rain. Gods, what does he bathe in that makes him smell so good?

For the first time all night, I’m able to observe Azriel’s bedroom. My eyes widen as I take in the beautiful A frame ceiling with exposed wooden beams. The soft patter of rain on glass draws my eyes to the east wall, which is made entirely of paneled windows. Silver rivulets of water run down their surface, reflecting flickering beams of moonlight into the room. The floors are a dark oak, the walls a calming sage.

Candles burn on Azriel’s overflowing bookcase, and the fireplace crackles merrily on the opposite wall. I reach out hesitantly with my ability, and feel the heat of each flame flicker inside my awareness. For a moment, I watch the candle flames dance and twist under my will. It's rare that I ever have the chance to explore my gift, the small flames too often exploding into an uncontrolled inferno that attracts attention. But I can’t help playing just a little.   

The sound of a kettle whistling startles me from my reverie, and a few tea lights extinguish entirely. I wince, and quickly light them again before following Azriel into the kitchen. 

He’s at the counter, adding hot water to a french press. The earthy scent of coffee tickles my nose as he presses the grounds down, the muscles of his arm flexing deliciously.

“How do you take your coffee?” He asks, gesturing towards a pale box of pastries for me to choose from. 

“Cream and sugar. Lots of cream.” 

“You like your coffee sweet.” He smiles to himself as he pours extra cream and sugar into my cup, as if adding the observance to a mental list.

 I pad closer and peer at the box of pastries over his broad shoulder. On the front it reads ‘Diana’s Bakery and Coffeehouse’ in elegant script. I bite my lip to keep from laughing as I open the familiar box, and take a bagel from inside. 

He notices me smiling at the pastries and raises a thick eyebrow at me, the corner of his lip quirking up.

“What is it?”

“Nothing it's just - well I work at Diana’s.” I laugh, taking a bite of the magically warmed bagel after liberally smearing it with cream cheese. 

“You do? But I’ve been in there everyday this week, I haven’t seen you.” 

He passes my mug to me, filled to the brim with creamy coffee, and I take a careful sip. He leans against the marble counter, hazel eyes looking me up and down, that small smirk making an appearance once again. What is it about males liking us in their clothes? Not that I’m complaining. 

“Well, you wouldn’t. I work in the back with Diana as her baking apprentice. I even baked those cinnamon rolls.”

 I know they’re mine by the slightly imperfect glazing. Diana is meticulous and every single treat she bakes is always flawless.

He points to the icing covered cinnamon rolls inside the box, mouth gaping in shock. 

“These cinnamon rolls? They’re the best I’ve ever had. I’ve been buying you guys out everyday.” Azriel exclaims, eyes wide and alight with surprise. 

“Oh, so you’re the reason I’ve had to make twice as many recently?” I chuckle, pink staining my cheeks. The fact that Azriel loves my baking brings me way too much delight to be proper. 

“I’m sorry, but Cassian and I can’t get enough of them. What do you do to them? They’re like biting into a cloud!”

“I can’t tell you that! It's a secret recipe!” I wink, a goofy grin on my face.

Azriel rolls his eyes and smiles, grumbling about how secretive bakers are as he deposits a large mound of cinnamon rolls onto a plate. A truly genuine smile breaks across my face at the sight. He collects his own mug and leads me to a comfy couch, where we both plop down and tuck into our midnight snacks. 

I can’t help but watch him, completely mystified. This sexy, adorable male is my mate? I’ve never felt lucky a day in my life, but as Azriel finishes his third cinnamon roll, I can’t help but feel like the fates smiled on this one aspect of my life. Having finished my bagel, I sip on my coffee and relax into the couch. I’ve been running for a long time, keeping everyone at arm's length, never staying in one place for more than a few years. But maybe I can stay hidden in Velaris and keep Azriel a lot closer. Maybe I don’t have to be alone. I want that future so badly it becomes hard to breath.

“So you bake. You dance at Rita’s. What else?” 

Azriel’s voice brings me back to the present, and I glance up from my coffee cup. Silent laughter dances in the hazel depths of his eyes, his plate of pastries discarded on the coffee table. Suddenly self conscious under his intent gaze,  I reach a hand up to feel the tangled masses of my dark hair. I grimace when I realize what a mess it’s become. It will probably need to be dyed again as well.

“I play music. Mostly the piano. I write sometimes. And you?”

The admissions, however small, make my throat tight with anxiety. I haven’t told anyone anything true about myself in years, and I haven’t touched a piano in just as long. The feeling is nerve wracking, and I can’t help but feel exposed. My eyes follow the upward curve of his lips as he smiles at me, one arm draped over the back of the couch. 

 “I can see you playing piano. You have the hands for it.”

I blush at his statement, my gaze falling to my entirely ordinary hands. What does that even mean?

“I’m something of a homebody. If I’m not with my brothers, I’m probably here with a book. I train, I work, I come home."

That explains the mountains of novels all over his room. And the incredible body. He reaches over and runs a hand through my slightly curling hair, the hours I’d spent straightening it made useless. He curls one of the ringlets around his finger, giving it a slight tug, before he tucks it behind my ear. Every single nervous thought evaporates at his touch.

“I like your hair like this, especially since I’m the one who made it this messy.” 

He murmurs, a sudden heat in his eyes. I feel my body warm in response to that look, and I have to divert my gaze down at my lap to keep from jumping him right there. Again.

“You’re a shameless flirt, shadowsinger.” I mutter, playing with the silver ring of leaves on my finger, noticing that his thigh is now pressed against mine. When had he moved so close?

“Not usually, trust me. My brothers would be astonished.” He laughs, running a hand through his own messy hair. 

“Not usually?” I trace a finger along the back of his hand, fascinated by the combination of scarring and complex veins. 

He shivers slightly, and I smile in satisfaction. He’s not the only one who can play that game. 

“I make exceptions for my mate.” He whispers, taking my hand from his and pressing a kiss to my palm, lips soft and warm. 

“I was supposed to have drinks with my brothers. They must think I decided to stay in.”  He laughs against my skin, kissing his way to the pulse point of my wrist.

“Little do they know, huh?” I gasp, made breathless by his ministrations and the thought of exactly why he’d ditched his brothers tonight.

“Little do they know. When you’re ready, I - uh. I know they’d love to meet you.” He looks up at me, cheeks filling with color as he straightens. 

My stomach drops, and a bit of reality comes crashing down. A mate is one thing, but letting his family into my life? They’d be two more people to lie to, two more people in danger because of me. I avoid any straight answers, and decide to divert his attention elsewhere.

“Tell me about them?” I drink from my mug, using it as an excuse to break eye contact. I can’t shake the feeling that he can see down to the very truth of me when our gazes meet. 

“Their names are Cassian and Rhys. Complete idiots. But those two have saved my life in so many ways.” His eyes glow with a warm, far away look, a goofy smile on his face. 

“It sounds like you love them very much.” I speak softly, not wanting that radiant look to ever leave his face.

“I do. Do you have any siblings?” His eyes flicker back to me, the distance clearing from them. 

“An older brother. Micah.” I try not to let my voice break on his name, the longing slamming into my chest like a horse at a full sprint. 

I curse myself for using my brother's real name, a slip up I wouldn’t have made with anyone else. Azriel’s mere presence is enough to disarm me, and it's a struggle to focus with him this close. I haven’t seen Micah since the day our mother was murdered by my fathers sentries, and we both fled for our lives. In opposite directions. The day that started my life on the run. 

“Are you two close?” Azriel’s shadows curl around me as he squeezes my hand in silent support, like he already knows the answer. 

“We used to be, when we were young. Not so much anymore.” 

I tense, hoping that he doesn’t push the subject. I can’t exactly tell him the truth of our forced estrangement. At least not yet.

“Where are you from?” 

 His tone is light, and I am endlessly grateful for the change in conversation. He doesn’t seem to miss a thing when it comes to me. The thought is a constant inkling of worry in the back of my head. 

“Not Velaris.” I reply quickly.

It technically isn’t a lie, but the evasion feels even worse.

“I could’ve guessed that, love. I’ve lived here for hundreds of years, if you lived in Velaris I would’ve found you sooner. Are you from the Night Court?” 

He chuckles, taking up another strand of my hair to play with. For a moment, I forget that he’s waiting on a response. 

“No, Summer Court. Adriata. Did you grow up in Illyria?” 

 I attempt to change the subject, the subterfuge like spoiled milk in my stomach. I wish I could tell him all about my little cottage on the outskirts of the Autumn Court, about my mothers smile, and Micah’s penchant for getting me into trouble. Instead, I have to wriggle my way out of letting him get to know me. This is going to be harder than I thought. 

“Unfortunately, I did.” Shadows rise from deep within his eyes, blotting out almost all the light in them. 

I’ve heard many stories about the brutality of Illyria. Their perilous winters and sprawling mountains, the discipline that they ingrain into their children, how they throw themselves into the path of war. I wonder who put the scars on his hands, his wings, and I feel sick for an entirely different reason.

I search his eyes for answers, glimpsing an age old sadness there. I feel him trying to shove it down deep, but he can’t hide from me anymore than I can from him. A burning rage seethes in my chest at that sadness. It makes me want to grow claws and rip and tear, scorch those responsible with my flames.

He closes his eyes and rests his head where my shoulder and collarbone meet, a deep sigh leaving him. From the tension in his body, I know he wants me to let the topic drop. So instead of asking the questions on the tip of my tongue, I kiss the top of his head and stroke his back softly. He practically purrs, pressing closer, telling me to continue. I smile softly, trailing my fingers down his spine in slow circles. His back is deliciously firm, and rippling with muscles from his often used wings. Heat scorches across my face as I remember how I brought him over the edge just by kissing them, the absolute unleashing of it. 

“I- I didn’t realize. That, well um- your wings. That they were so-“ I stutter pitifully, the blush spreading down my neck. 

Azriel leans back to meet my eyes, a slight smile beginning on his face, previous troubles forgotten. 

“You didn’t know?” He asks, disbelief in his tone and a glint of amusement in his eye. 

“No, they just looked very kissable.”

He throws his head back and gives a loud, full belly laugh. I beam at the musical sound, satisfaction flowing through me. I want to make him laugh like that again and again.

“An Illyrian males wings are the most sensitive part of their body. If touched in the perfect spot, we can finish from that alone. As you saw. But they are also our greatest weapon, and we protect them accordingly. For that reason, I usually keep them far away from any - partners.” He explains after sobering from his laughter, voice soft and a slight blush painting his elegant cheekbones.

“But you make exceptions for your mate?” I ask, eyes downcast as I play with the cuff of his long sleeve shirt.

“I do. Only for you.” He takes my hands from his sleeve, and presses them to his lips once again.

I glance up at him, to find his eyes already on me. The warmth and tenderness I find there has my heart flying in my chest, and tears pricking my eyes. I blink them away hurriedly, looking to his wings instead of the intense emotion he’s showing me. For some reason, the adoration I see there has a small burst of fear running through me. 

“I’m glad you let me touch them. They’re beautiful.” I whisper reverently as l behold the incredible expanse of his wings. 

Vibrant plum and lavender, veined with maroon and the silver of scar tissue. I can’t even think of these beautiful, majestic wings being mutilated like that. My hands ache to touch them again, feel their silky warmth. 

“You definitely showed your appreciation for them.” He leans closer, his breath fanning across my cheek as he whispers in my ear. 

It sends shivers deep into my core, and I have to squeeze my thighs together and hope he doesn’t catch my scent. The confident, seductive Azriel of earlier tonight is back. 

“Not yet I haven’t.” I murmur, emboldened by my renewed need for him. 

The need comes quickly, overwhelmingly. Especially now that I know what being with him is like. Entirely world shattering. He may have ruined every other male for me. Again, not that I’m complaining. A low rumble comes from deep in his chest, and he wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me onto his lap with ease. 

“Is that so?” There’s a sultry promise in his voice, and I feel him stir against my thigh. 

The room is filled with our mingled arousal as he inhales against my neck. 

“I still can’t believe I found you.” He groans, pressing kisses against my throat. 

I let my eyes fall closed, shocked anew at how easily he reduces me to a gasping mess. His hands begin to roam over my hips and waist, his touch worshipping and disbelieving. When I begin to slowly move myself over his growing arousal, I feel a shift in him. His hands halt their exploration, and he tenses beneath me. I open my eyes to find his face veiled with worry, his brow creasing. 

“You don’t have to, Sabine.” He cups my face in his hands, dark eyes gleaming with concern. 

I try not to flinch at the false name, and I wonder what his voice would sound like saying the name my mother gave me.  

Shoving those thoughts away, I shake my head, a small grin forming on my lips. Does he not see how infatuated I am already? Of course I don’t have to, but I want to. 

“Az, you idiot.”

And with that, I plant my lips on his. He doesn’t need further convincing. His body responds to mine eagerly, a low growl building in his chest. My back meets the leather couch as Azriel maneuvers himself above me, his hands sliding under the hem of my sweatshirt. He is somehow gentle and commanding all at once, his skin burning hot against mine. I sigh into the kiss as I give myself to him, entirely content to do so this time. 

“You are the most exquisite thing I’ve ever seen.” 

He whispers against my lips, that reverent tone back in full force. My eyes prick as my chest fills with equal parts warmth and fear. I can see how easy it would be to love my mate. To fall fast and completely. And the part of me that’s been running scared from those I once loved is terrified.  

“I’m scared.” I murmur back, surprised at my own honesty.

I feel his frown against my lips, and he only holds me tighter. 

“I’m scared too, love. But I won’t ever hurt you. You’re - You are everything.” His eyes, soft and dark and endlessly kind, convince me. 

I smile sheepishly at him, holding out my left pinky. 

“Promise?”

Without hesitation, he wraps his finger around mine. 

“I promise.” 

The next morning, sunlight streaming in through the expansive windows wakes me. A sleepy contentment keeps me drowsy and warm, and I stretch like a cat after a particularly restful nap. 

“Good morning.” 

Cauldron, his morning voice is the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard.

I blink my eyes open, the blurry image of a very amused Azriel coming into focus. His black hair is tousled and falling onto his forehead, and pillow marks color his cheeks. 

Delicious.

I cuddle closer to him instead of replying, not ready to start the day yet. He wraps both arms around me as I bury my head in his very bare chest. Memories of last night rise to the surface, and I feel my cheeks warm. After his pinky promise, Azriel made love to me. That's the only way to describe the beautiful, tender way he touched me. He made sure every ounce of doubt was replaced with complete trust. It was the most intimate I had ever been with anyone in my entire life. 

“Did you know that you talk in your sleep?” He asks, a teasing grin curling his full lips.

I can’t help but remember those lips on my body in the living room. And the bedroom. And the bathtub. Needless to say, we didn’t sleep until dawn.

“W-What did I say?” I can only imagine the mortifying things my sleep self has to say to this male.

“Just my name. Over and over again.” His voice deepens, eyes darkening.

“Shut up! I did not!” I hiss, giving his shoulder a shove. 

He only chuckles and waggles a brow at me, before placing a kiss to my forehead. He smells even better in the morning, his cedar scent more potent. How is that even possible?

“How did you sleep?” 

He brushes my hair over my shoulder, peppering even more kisses across my collarbone. I shiver under his attention, my eyes falling closed again.

“Better than I have in a long time.” I admit, my voice still raspy with sleep. 

“So did I.” 

He runs gentle hands through my hair, our legs still entwined intimately. I haven’t felt this safe and content in someone’s arms since I was a girl, when my mom would hold me after I woke from nightmares about monsters under my bed. Azriel already feels like home, and the thought doesn’t scare me as badly as it did last night. Thoughts of my father seem distant and insignificant now, chased away by the bright morning light and warmth of my mate’s presence. 

“I wish I could stay here with you all day, baby.” He groans, a deep sigh leaving him. I can feel his reluctance in how firmly he presses me to him, strong arms locking me against his chest. 

“Then stay.” I grumble moodily, a frown curling my lips downwards. I know we can’t stay sequestered in his apartment forever, but that doesn’t mean I’m happy about it. 

“I have to do some work for my brother today, but you’re more than welcome to stay in my bed. In fact, I hope you do.” Azriel chuckles, untangling his limbs from mine and kneeling before me. He drops a tender, lingering kiss on my lips  before standing.

My cheeks warm as my blood sings in my veins, and my breath catches in my chest. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the way his touch affects me. I hope I never do. 

“Oh? What kind of work do you do for him? Does he have his own shop or something?” I yawn my way through the question, cuddling myself into his vacated warm spot. 

Azriel smiles over his shoulder at me, while sliding into Illyrian fighting leathers. My mouth goes dry at how the skin tight garment outlines his muscular thighs and powerful chest, accentuating the golden tones of his skin. Hubba Hubba.

“Actually, Rhysand is High Lord of the Night Court. I’m his Spymaster. I have spying to do.” His lips twitch as if he’s trying to not let the easy smile fall from his face as he continues dressing. He watches for my reaction intently.

The blood in my veins turns to ice, freezing my heart in place as my eyes shoot open in shock. 

Azriel’s brother Rhys is... Rhysand. High Lord of the Night Court. All sleep leaves my body, and I have to fight to stay still. Every instinct is screaming at me to run, run far and fast. 

Because Rhysand knows my father, seeing as he’s High Lord of the Autumn Court.

In fact, I know Beron has met Rhysand many times. He often spoke about the half breed bastard who challenged his authority at meetings.

I met Rhysand at Beron’s court once, when I was barely fifteen. It's been decades, but he could easily recognize me as Beron’s bastard daughter. And he could tell my father where I am, maybe even deliver me to him. 

Even if he doesn’t recognize me, grown and changed as I am, Rhysand is a Daemati. He could rip the truth from my own mind with hardly a thought. And the High Lord of the Night Court has a reputation for finding pleasure in that sort of thing. The thought has me shivering despite the warm blankets tucked around me. 

“Oh. You didn’t mention that last night.” I rasp, trying not to look like I’m about to throw up. My stomach roils, and my palms dampen with cold sweat. 

“I forget that he's High Lord sometimes. He’s just Rhys to me.” Azriel shrugs, with his back now turned to me as he readies himself for the day. I thank the Cauldron for it. 

I can only imagine the stark horror in my expression, and I take a few extra moments to reign my emotions in. Gods, no wonder Azriel can read me so effortlessly. It's not only because of the bond, he’s a spymaster. Reading people is his job. A job he performs for a mind stealing, murdering monster of a High Lord. Bile rises in my throat, and I feel my heart crack in my chest. 

Azriel is not who I thought he was. The trustworthy, gentle male I spent the night with could just be another mask he wears. A tremble begins deep within me.

“When will you be back?” I try to sound eager, like I can’t wait for his return. 

In reality, I’m trying to find out how far away I can get before he even realizes I’m gone. 

“Tonight. I just need to visit some - colleagues in another court.” He says, while lacing his sturdy looking boots into place. 

What court is he ‘visiting’? Will he be spying on other High Lords for Rhysand? Despite the new revelations about his dangerous brother, I feel a stab of fear for my mate. Any High Lord would slaughter him in a moment if they caught him spying on the Daemati’s behalf. 

“Will you be safe?” I hear the worry in my own voice, and Azriel either hears it as well or can feel it from me. Damn mate bond. 

The male perches on the bed next to me, a reassuring smile on his striking face. The two versions of him that exist in my head clash terribly; the vulnerable, kind Azriel of last night and the formidable Spymaster I’ve heard grave stories about. My gaze falls to the dark dagger strapped to his leg. Truth Teller. I try not to shiver as the light glints lethally off its razored edge. I wonder how many truths he’s tortured out of his enemies using it. 

“Of course. Always, but especially now.” Azriel strokes stray curls out of my face, his eyes brimming with unabashed tenderness. He kisses me soundly, a promise to return. 

My stomach flips and suddenly my heart is no longer racing out of fear. For a moment, I almost forget the hidden lethalness and only see Az. But that’s foolish. I can’t shiver at the sight of his famed blade and crave his touch at the same time. 

“I’ll see you tonight?” I ask, mentally calculating how long I have to leave Velaris. I go through the well rehearsed steps of my escape plan, focusing on mundane details to keep the fear and longing from rendering me completely useless.

“Of course.” Shadows of worry cloud his eyes, and I can almost see the sharp, spy's mind calculating behind them.

Azriel kisses me once more, his lips hesitant for the very first time.

His mouth tastes like sorrow, and I feel a flicker of something down the bond. It's gone too quickly for me to decipher it. I curse internally, hoping he only thinks I’m intimidated by his brother’s position. Between the bond and his spymaster abilities, who knows what he can decipher from my reaction alone.

“I’ll be back soon, okay?” He stands, tucking his wings in close and letting his shoulders droop slightly. 

He searches my face, lips slightly turned down at the corners, brow furrowed. 

“I’ll be here.” The lie burns my throat like acid, and I can’t bring myself to meet his eyes.

Instead, I pretend to settle deeper into the bed, closing my eyes as I bring the blankets up to my chin. I don’t want to see the confusion and worry in his gaze. And I can’t watch him leave, knowing that I may never see him again. Azriel squeezes my thigh softly, whispering another farewell as he leaves the room with a sigh. 

I wait until I no longer feel the thrumming current that is Azriel’s presence,  when I know he’s well and truly gone. Then I spring into action. I burst from the bed, and head straight for Azriel’s dresser. I yank a pair of sweats from the drawer and pull them on hurriedly, shaking so hard it takes me three tries to get my legs through the correct hole.  I practically run through the living room, propelled forwards by thoughts of obliterated minds and the dank cells beneath the Autumn Court. 

I glimpse the forgotten mugs and pastry box from last night on the coffee table. Tears prick my eyes at the memory of the hope I felt during that meal. I told Azriel, my mate, more than I’ve shared with anyone in years. He let me see some of the anguish he carries with him, buried so deep it's become a part of him. I gave my body to him. And he felt like home. Can I really run from that?

Yes, I can. I have to. I was a fool to think that I could ever be outside my father’s reach.

On impulse, I hunt down a pen from the kitchen cabinets and scrawl a quick, cowardly note on a scrap of paper. Shame coats my tongue so thoroughly I think I may choke on it.

I’m sorry. - S 

  With the note finished, I raise the hood to conceal my face and tear down the stairs, avoiding the elevator Azriel first kissed me in. Soon enough, my bare feet are slapping against the rain slick pavement, my heart cracking with every step. I don’t stop to notice the people that watch me fly by, or the sun shining over the Sidra. I let the fear cloud every guilty thought, until all I know is adrenaline. 

Once I reach my apartment, I change into clothes more appropriate for an escape attempt, and collect my emergency bag from beneath some loose floorboards. Not the most creative hiding spot, but it’s better than my underwear drawer. 

Less than an hour later, I’m standing on the rickety, wooden deck of a foreign boat, sailing away from Velaris. Tradesmen man their vessel, hardly paying attention to me as I stare out over the water from their starboard side. I can imagine the mystery I pose. A lone, cloaked female, begging to stow away on their watercraft.

The money I slipped to their captain keeps the curious glances to a minimum, and I hope it keeps their mouths shut in the future. Either way, I won’t be settling where I first disembark. I’m not entirely sure where I’ll go yet, but maybe that’s for the best. If I’m entirely impulsive, my actions will be harder to predict.

I’ve run scared so many times over the years that I’ve lost count, but I’ve never been so conflicted. Every mile I put between me and the shore of the Sidra is another knife shoved up under my ribs, and it becomes harder and harder to breath. Eventually, the vibrant colors of the Rainbow fade from view and the citrus scent of the river becomes the salty brine of the ocean. Hot tears sting my eyes, and I let them fall. The hood of my cloak covers my face anyway. 

“Goodbye, Az.” 

[triggerlil]

Drarry, fluff, 27 please! 😍

This was so fun to write Rae!! Hope you enjoy :) 

--

Scorpius puffed out his cheeks, rolling a muggle toy car across the ground petulantly.

“What’s the matter, Scorpius?” Harry asked, laying on his stomach next to the blond boy. Toys were strewn around the room, the two of them having gotten up to large amounts of havoc while Draco did work in the kitchen. Scorpius had turned five recently, and had been a bugger to deal with, so Harry had agreed to come keep him occupied. Give Draco a few hours of peace to get through his ever-lengthening to-do list.

The world from the ground felt different, everything huge and looming, yet not in a threatening way. He tried to remember what it had felt like to be this small naturally, but could only dredge up images of mangled toy soldiers and dust. Laying down on the hardwood floor felt like the opposite. It was relaxing, his cheek resting on his crossed arms, glasses skewed, as he let Scorpius occupy himself. Occasionally, he would lazily turn a building block on its head, flick the bristles of Scorpius’ toy broom, but he was happy doing absolutely nothing.

Now though, it was obvious that something was on Scorp’s mind, his pale brows furrowed, tiny pink lips pursed in an imitation of his father.

“Why do you weave?” Scorpius asked, and Harry felt his heart soften.

“I can’t stay here all the time Scorp,” he said, “I have my own home.”

“Where?” It always surprised Harry how curious he was, he wondered if Draco had been the same, constantly badgering his stuck up parents with questions about the world and its many surprises.

“In a house, you’ve been there.”

Scorpius huffed, pushing the car harder into the floor, “wonewy house.”

“I live alone, but that’s why I come visit you and your dad.”

Scorpius looked at him, his grey eyes piercing, “Why don’t you wive with us?”

“Because this is your house, for you and your dad, he wouldn’t want me here all the time.”

“He would!” Scorpius insisted, “He’s sad without you!”

Harry raised an eyebrow, propping himself up on his elbows. “What do you mean, Scorp?”

“Papa is sad when you weave, and always dress up for when you come!” He said it as if this was it, the words that would convince Harry to move in. He could hear Draco sifting through paper in the kitchen, but then his chair scraped back, and his feet were padding towards the living room.

“Well I wouldn’t want your handsome dad to be lonely, now would I?”

“I heard that, Harry!”

Harry looked up as Draco entered the room, his hair swept back from his forehead, almost golden in the afternoon light streaming through the window. The top few buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing his pale chest and a small slice of silver peeking out from behind the fabric. That inch of torn skin caught Harry’s breath in a way it hadn’t before. 

He grinned. “You were supposed to.”

Draco raised an eyebrow, walking forward and sitting down cross-legged on the floor, carding his hand through Scorpius’ hair.

“What have you been telling Harry? Hm?” he asked, pressing a kiss to the top of his son’s head.

Scorpius shrugged, as if he would somehow get in trouble, and Harry laughed.

“He thinks I should move in, because apparently you’re lonely without me. That true, Draco?”

Harry wanted to bask in the pink blush that was creeping up Draco’s neck, the sliver of silver even more noticeable against his flushed skin. If Harry didn’t leave, if he never left again, would he be allowed to undo the rest of those buttons? See where the scars led, trailing down Draco’s chest and abdomen, potentially running farther, down his hips and thighs. If he asked to stay, would Draco let him?

“I just like hosting guests.”

“I didn’t realize I qualified as a guest.”

“Right, because you’re here so often, like a little vermin.”

“Says the little ferret…”

Draco pushed his shoulder lightly, a playful movement, something that should have been casual. Draco’s hand lingered on Harry’s shoulder, as if feeling the bone and muscle underneath, his eyes stuck on Harry’s torso. Was he wondering what would happen if Harry stayed? Was he wondering if Harry would let him put his hands under his shirt, feel his skin beneath his fingertips? Because he would let him, if he was allowed to stay.

Suddenly Scorpius lunged himself at Harry’s lap, nuzzling into his chest, pushing Draco’s arm away.

“I won’t gwet up,” he said, “unwess you stay!” He looked at his father with a devilish grin that Harry hadn’t thought a five-year-old would be capable of, and Draco rolled his eyes, now the petulant child in the room. Suddenly Harry saw the Scorpius in Draco, as he so often saw Draco in Scorpius.

“I’ll sleepover, if it’s alright with your father…” Harry grinned, looking at Draco over the top of Scorpius’ head, wrapping his arms around the boy and hugging him close. Being Scorpius’ favourite person after Draco and his late mother was about to have a lot of benefits.

“I suppose… if Harry would like to, he can sleepover.”

“I would indeed like to,” Harry smiled, “we could watch a movie, I make good popcorn.”

Draco rolled his eyes, he had bought a TV at Harry’s request, and watching him try and use it brought Harry endless joy.

“Are you going to get off my lap, Scorp?” Harry asked, and the glare that Scorpius shot his way reminded him so much of Draco in first year that he had to laugh, a full belly laugh, as he picked Scorpius up and swung him around the room.

Draco watched from the floor with a tender smile on his face, and it made Harry’s heart swell to know that it wasn’t just for Scorpius, but him too. He was sure of it, as he was now sure of many things. Such as that, although Astoria would always be a part of Draco, Harry could be too. He knew better than most that losing someone didn’t mean you were closed off forever. That grief’s edge faded with time, no matter how much it tried to stay alive, aching under your skin like an old friend. He also knew, with absolute surety, that he was in love with Draco Malfoy, and that Draco loved him too.

“Scorp, want to hear a secret?” Harry asked breathlessly when they had stopped spinning (though the ground kept going), and Scorpius giggled as Harry leaned into his ear, “I think I’m in love with your dad.”

Scorpius giggled wildly, sticking out his tongue at Draco.

“What did you tell him?” Draco asked, getting up to come over to them, “you’re filling my boy’s head with useless fluff. One day I’m going to wake up,” he pounced, ruffling Scorpius’ hair as Harry tried to keep him safe, “and he’s going to have a cotton ball for a head!”

“No! No!” Scorpius squealed, holding onto Harry’s neck for dear life, as Draco attacked the both of them.

“I am the fluff monster,” Draco roared, “I eat all fluffballs!”

“Save me Hawwy, save me!” Scorpius yelled, punching out his tiny fists in Draco’s direction. Harry couldn’t stop laughing. Draco’s eyes were bright, cheeks flushed, his face in a mask of comical aggression. He had rarely looked happier. Harry wanted to snapshot this moment and frame it, perfect domestic bliss, no end to the night in sight. Maybe Draco would let Scorpius stay up past his bedtime, watch a movie with a little more action, eat buttery popcorn with chocolate M&Ms (Draco’s favourite muggle snack), all while snuggled in between the two of them. Maybe Draco would let Harry put his arm around his shoulder.

Draco came forward, looking like a tiger ready to pounce, and then he slipped his arm around Harry’s waist, in between Scorpius’ tiny body, and pulled Harry towards him.

“You can’t escape me now, you little devil,” Draco growled, smothering Scorpius in kisses. Draco’s hand felt like fire through the thin fabric of Harry’s shirt, it rested so easily on his lower back, felt so natural.

“I want a group hug!” Scorpius yelled, trying to pull Draco in, and Harry shrugged. They wrapped Scorpius up, Draco’s arms encircling both of them, both hands pressed into Harry.

He poured every ounce of love he could into that hug, every bit of warmth and affection, and he prayed that Draco would feel it, would understand that he loved him, loved Scorpius, cherished every moment they got to spend together. He wanted to keep watching Scorpius grow; his first growth spurt, his letter to Hogwarts, teach him how to play Quidditch, how to cook, how to clean, how to live and learn and play and be himself. He wanted to help, in any way possible, to alleviate the challenge of being a single parent. He wanted… he wanted Draco. Wrapped up in the hug, Scorpius wriggling between them, Draco leaned back just enough to look Harry in the eye.

Harry was close enough to see the different shades of dark grey streaking his irises, the subtle changes in his pupil, the soft fade of his eyelashes from brown to blond, and the way he was searching Harry’s face, shifting his head to the side.

I love you, Harry mouthed, as Scorpius finally squirmed free from their embrace and dropped to the floor, running around them and shouting about popcorn.

Draco understood, he stepped ever-so-slightly closer, his eyelashes fluttering, hand moving underneath Harry’s shirt.

They closed the gap between them, love sparking on the tips of their fingers, Harry’s glasses bumping into the bridge of Draco’s nose. He smelled like lemons and lavender, his lips were soft, and Harry had been wanting this for so very long. 

“Ewwww,” Scorpius yelled, jumping onto the couch, but Harry barely heard him. He pulled back from their chaste kiss, brushed their lips together, lingering.

 “You can sleep in my room tonight,” Draco whispered, “if you want.”

“I’d like that,” Harry replied. How long will you let me stay, he thought to himself, because he wanted to stay forever.

--

This is also posted on AO3! 

My writing masterlist

[anika-ann]

The Best Mistake of My Life - Pt.3

Masquerade 

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader    Word count: 2950

Summary: A soulmate AU. They say having a soulmate is a blessing. Who wouldn’t love the idea of star-crossed lovers, right?

Despite the doubt you had your whole life, meeting Steve was a dream coming true. Too bad you had to meet his ‘family’ too.

Warnings: swearing, FLUFF, Steve’s friends being Steve’s friends... go figure

Story masterlist

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An average American had sex on the third date; taking the big step in a relationship, as your friend helpfully remarked when you told him about the upcoming event. Needless to say, Steven Grant Rogers was not an average American. He was Captain America, i.e. an Avenger, technically was 95 years old (soon turning 96) and was not used to the pace of 21st century relationship.

To be honest, you didn’t mind a bit; there was no physical pressure on your relationship. Sure, the man was such a fine specimen it should be illegal and you would love to climb him like a tree, but it was a nice change of pace. You never really liked the whole third date thing. When you felt like it should happen, it should happen, right? That was how you saw it, so you were alright with Steve being a bit old-fashioned when it came to physical stuff.

Of course, he was also your soulmate. While with other guys you didn’t feel the need to rush, with Steve, you somehow felt a need not to rush. Maybe you were overthinking his sensibilities, maybe not. The bottom-line was: you took it slow.

So, with the fact that a kiss on a cheek – from you to him – happened on your second date (if the diner counted as the first) given, you truly didn’t expect him to… push you into anything even resembling a second base. Hell, you weren’t sure you were on the first.

An average American had sex on the third date. You, having your third date with Steve Rogers, were about to take a different important step; to meet his friends. On a party. Steve’s (supposedly secret) birthday party. Oh boy. To say you were intimidated by the idea of meeting the Avengers would be an understatement.

And Steve wasn’t helping.

“They are… perhaps a bit much, but… they are the only true friends I have. I want you to meet my friends. I’d like to introduce you,” he stated while you walked side by side in a park at the end of your date number two.

Your hands had been brushing his and vice versa for several minutes now and you couldn’t handle it, simply interlacing your fingers with his. He gave you a sweet smile when you did so, signalling he was more than okay with it, drawing a circle on the back of your hand.

“But… what if they won’t, uhm, approve of me?” you asked, your insides uncomfortably clenched.

He stopped in his tracks, forcing you to do the same. His free hand slowly rose to your arm, gently squeezing.

“They will. And if they don’t… they will with time. You’re my soulmate. I think we have the most important approval in our pocket already.”

The smile he gave you was soft yet blinding, making your heart grow. You had only met the second time and you already seemed to know each other for months, responding maybe hesitantly, but instinctively the right way as if something between you was reaching out, guiding one another. It was wonderful. A bit scary, but immensely wonderful.

You were gazing into his eyes, swearing you could see galaxies. You quickly learned to love the little green in his irises, staining the sky blue, somehow making it… better. Your mouth acted on its own.

“Okay. I’ll… okay.” Did you just agree?! “What the occasion will be?”

He cleared his throat, lowering his gaze. “My birthday.”

“What?!”

“And before you think of going crazy about a gift for me-“ he stopped your train of thought before it started – how did he know? “-when you show up, it will be the greatest gift.”

Sappy, whispered a small voice in your head.

You love it, sing-sang your heart, melting.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” you murmured and he flashed you a smile.

“Very.”

“Fine. But remember, you asked me not to give you anything…”

“Noted.”

You bit your lip as you stared at him, your heart about as fast as your mind. The way he was looking at you… was it possible to look at someone you barely just met this way? If you didn’t think you must have appeared the same when looking at him, you would call bullshit. But here you were.

Before you could change your mind, you listened to the instinct coming from god knew where; you got on your toes, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

You retreated slowly, watching his reaction, rewarded by his gaze full of wonder and happy sparks.

“Early birthday present?” he muttered, his eyes falling on your lips for a split second. You licked your lips unwittingly, watching his eyes quickly turn away, his Adam’s apple jumping. Not a perfect gentleman then. Good.

“If the shoe fits… it’s just—it felt right. Was it weird? It was-“

“-perfect,” he finished, tightening the grip on your fingers interlaced with his.

You smiled automatically at his sincere expression.

“ ’kay.”

“Now let’s get you home so you can get your sleep. Can’t keep you awake with a work day in sight…”

“That’s really thoughtful, you know,” you said, meaning every word. “You are.”

“Which is why I think the party would be a good occasion. You can always hide in a crowd if it comes to the worst and Tony’s too annoying.”

You chuckled and started walking again, joy filling every ounce of your being as his thumb caressed the back of your hand once more.

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A package was waiting for you at your apartment that evening, containing a mask, because apparently, it was a masquerade ball. You were glad Steve had got you a mask fitting with your dress; when he had asked a colour, you had assumed he had wanted to get a matching tie. This was much worse. And much better.

A taxi picked you up. And Black Widow waited for you at the lobby of the famous skyscraper, apologizing for Steve who was busy at the moment, the birthday boy he was, and she casually slipped in that she might have searched some database, found you via your ‘first words’ and sent Steve your way without him being aware.

You were shocked, no arguing there, but realized she had done… what she had been supposed to do.

“Oh… o-okay. Thanks, I guess…”

“You’re not upset?” she asked on the way up in the elevator, clearly surprised.

You shrugged. “Well, I already had the words on my skin, right? This was the way it was meant to happen then.”

The not so intimidating spy hummed thoughtfully, putting on her mask. Also, she looked absolutely gorgeous and you had no idea why Steve would ever look your way. Besides his soulmark. You were a lucky, lucky bitch, just like Ryan had said.

You followed Natasha’s suit, hiding your face as well. You actually felt better, shielded from awaiting prying eyes at least partly.

Natasha had smuggled you in with no trouble (because you weren’t an official guest, Steve’s idea so you had a bit of privacy, you loved him for it) and here you were, a second glass of champagne in your hand as you watched Steve leave the little podium after he thanked everyone for coming.

The good news was that no one had spotted you or tried to make conversation with you.

The bad news was that it included Steve who seemed too busy with anyone else; not for the lack of trying to escape as it seemed though.

You toyed with the idea of approaching him too, but you were too much of a chicken. When Hawkeye was talking to him for instance, you wouldn’t have come to interrupt them. However, you caught Steve scanning the room few times; you wondered if he noticed you… could he though, in the mask? You felt invisible, both in a good and a bad way. Maybe you should just-

“What’s a lady like yourself doing here, drinking alone?” a voice startled you on your left, nearly making you drop the half-empty (or half-full) glass. Your hand flied to your chest as if holding your suddenly thundering heart in.

“Jesus… you startled me… Mr.Stark,” you added in horror when recognizing him as one of the masked people on the podium earlier.

“Hm… looks like your conscience isn’t clean then, when you’re scared so easily. Why is that?” he pried and you gulped nervously.

Oh god, this meeting was already going even worse than you had imagined.

“I don’t know about that… are you enjoying the party?” you attempted a small talk, hoping he would leave you alone until Steve somehow found his way to you.

He scoffed. “It’s a party. So, always. Plus, my place. Party organized by me. I’m enjoying it plenty. You?”

Your throat closed up. "Not really my scene, Mr.Stark."

"That's interesting. Because I can't recall inviting anyone whose scene this wasn't. I didn’t catch your name, miss…?"

Ha. Inviting you. Sure. And your name? Of course.

Shit.

"Isn't this S- Captain Rogers' party? I would think he was the one inviting people…" you couldn't help but snark, remembering Steve's uncomfortable expression when he had talked about the upcoming event. The thought behind the masks surprised you though – it was surprisingly fitting to Steve's personality. The masks were to remain anonymous, because all of the guest could be heroes in their own way.

"I threw it for him! And you're quite sassy. Who the hell-"

You were saved by Natasha Romanoff in all her glory, her hand delicately placed on Stark’s forearm as he gestured at you.

"Tony? We have a little trouble with the birthday surprise," she informed him swiftly and you barely hid the sigh of relief. You were starting to adore that woman.

"But-" he protested, his head turning from you to her and back and to her and back to you, as if he couldn’t decide what was more pending.

Oh please, let it be the surprise.

"They need you, right now."

"Fine. Keep an eye on her. I'm not done talking to her," he threw over his shoulder and the spy rolled her eyes as he blended in the crowd.

"...thank you, Ms.Romanoff."

"Natasha," she reminded you, lopsided smile on her face.

"Sorry. Natasha."

"Don't worry about it. Go some have fun," she beckoned to the dance floor and then to the bar as if you should choose whatever you preferred. You would prefer Steve, to be honest, anywhere.

"Yeah, like I said to Mr.Stark; not really my scene."

She grinned when you shifted uncomfortably. "Then I guess it's good that your knight in shining armour is approaching."

"What?" You whipped around to follow her line of sight, not seeing anyone, and when you spun back to her, she was gone. "That wasn't freaky at all…"

You shook your head, sipping on your drink again.

"Are you enjoying the evening, madam?"

A smile spread your lips at instant and you faced him, relieved. It was like everything was about to be alright all of sudden. You even accepted the fact he approached you as if you were a stranger, playing along.

"Captain Rogers, good evening."

"What gave me away?"

You chuckled, many possible responses flying through your mind.

Your voice tingling my spine. Your broad shoulders and arms which I want to hold me down. Your ridiculously pretty eyes. Your lips…

"You're hard to miss, Captain."

An almost patronizing smile graced is lips. "Please, call me Steve."

You bit your lip, not even having to pretend nervousness. God, he looked amazing. The perfectly fitting suit, the bowtie, the mask… he looked like a Disney prince. You didn’t mind imagining you were in a fairy tale; it simply felt like being in one.

"Steve," you repeated obediently, maintaining your role. "Isn't it a better question if you are? Enjoying the evening, I mean? It is your night after all."

"I do now," he emphasized, his eyes wandering all over you, settling on your partly hidden face. The mask was barely covering your upper face, leaving the better part of your cheeks and lips free. Still, it gave you the feeling of being hidden enough; nevertheless, in front of him, you felt naked, as if he saw right through. For some reason, it wasn’t scaring you so far.

"Oh? Why is that?"

"I found what I was looking for."

"Is... is that so? And…" you swallowed thickly under his intense eyes. "And just what were you looking for?"

You expected him to simply say ‘you’, but he managed to take your breath away, causing you to break your character in a fraction of second.

"The most beautiful and enchanting woman in this room, naturally."

His irises twinkled with mischief as he was clearly enjoying making you nearly squirm, but his pleasant voice held a serious note, not leaving a doubt that he meant every word.

"Christ, Steve, make me blush like a schoolgirl, why don't you… but thanks, I guess. Though you should probably have your eyesight checked."

"My vision is 20/20, madam, maybe better." He smiled warmly, reaching out a hand. "May I have this dance?"

You couldn’t say you weren’t taken aback. Mostly because… well.

"I'm not great at dancing," you admitted sheepishly, but accepted his hand in order to shorten the distance between you. You stood nearly chest to chest now, the feeling intoxicating. Despite fearing you would make a fool of yourself, you got chills from the proximity, pleasant ones.

"Just another prove of being perfect for me then. I'm not great either."

"So why did you ask?" you chuckled, relieved that at least you wouldn’t be alone in this. He tugged at your hand, pulling you even closer.

"Wouldn't forgive myself if I haven't tried to ask the prettiest dame of the evening and win a… uh, resemblance of a dance. Please?"

What you could see from his handsome face was pleading you. Who were you to deny him? Especially with how he was just dropping compliments like that, effortlessly? You could turn into a puddle of jello and you wouldn’t notice.

"You're too sweet, you know that?" you whispered and his smile widened when leading you onto the dance floor.

"I'm trying."

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Tony smelled something fishy. Everything was alright with the surprise fireworks. Romanoff was pulling his leg. Why?

He soon found out or he believed so.

"...is that Capsicle dancing?" he blurted out when he spotted the broad shoulders (never admit that out loud, he reminded himself) with a hand on it.

"Hm?" The sneaky spy smiled absently, following Tony’s line of sight. She sounded unimpressed then. "Oh. Looks like it."

"Whom he would be dancing with- Romanoff! I told you to keep an eye on her!" he yelped when he recognized the dress… and the woman wearing them. Well, didn’t recognize; that was the problem really. Who the hell was she and how had she got in? This place was a Fort Knox, especially tonight. Invited guests only.

"I guess someone else has an eye on her."

"What's up?" Clint hummed as he spotted Tony’s indignation.

"He's- he's-!" he gestured towards the supersoldier, unable to form words.

What was happening here? Why was Romanoff so chill? They had an intruder! She might not look like it, but she was a part of the security tonight!

"Rogers' dancing. Stark's having a stroke," she explained, indifferent.

"Who's having a stroke?" Bruce joined them with a beer in his hand. Tony threw his hands in the air.

"Stark," Nat replied, Clint too busy watching Cap swaying calmly in the rhythm; more or less.

"No one’s having a stroke!" Tony hissed. "This isn't fu-"

"Is that Steve dancing? Who's the woman?" Bruce seemed intrigued, exchanging a glance with Clint.

"She's very beautiful. The captain chose his dance partner well,” Thor hummed behind Tony's back all of sudden, making the billionaire jump in fright. Natasha snickered. Tony pointed an accusing finger at her.

"Stop that! It's your fault! You were supposed to watch her, because I sure as hell haven't invited her."

"She wasn't invited?" Clint finally sounded alarmed and Tony shot him a grateful look. Someone cared!

"Relax, Stark. It is my fault, I was the one to smuggle her in."

“What?!” he cried out, causing few people around them to raise their eyebrows. Natasha rolled her eyes at them.

"Really? Is she a friend of yours? From… business?" Bruce pried carefully and Natasha snorted.

"Barely. But you'll meet her, don't worry."

"She is not posing a treat then?" Thor summed up nothing, his briefly tensed shoulders relaxing.

That was it?!

"Sure isn't," Natasha uttered, the corner of her lips twitching. God, Tony hated Russian spies and their secrets.

"Then I might ask her for a dance!” Thor exclaimed, his grin wide. “She is exceptionally beautiful lady indeed."

"Careful not to step on someone's toes!" Natasha called after him and he made his way to the dancing pair.

"I'm gonna ask her right after him!" Tony declared immediately, disappearing into the crowd and Natasha smirked. She knew you were nervous about meeting them and this was actually rather good way. She just hoped Tony wouldn't annoy the hell out of you.

"And by someone you mean Steve?" Bruce guessed, which earned Natasha a challenging eyebrow from Clint.

"Maybe."

"Did you push her towards Steve or did you sneak her in here, because he asked you to?" Clint asked the right question like always.

She smiled at him playfully. "I'll tell you later. Stop being so nosy, Barton."

"Not fair…" He huffed and went to the bar for a refill, no doubt being determined to see how it would all play out. Natasha chuckled.

"Would you… like to dance?" Bruce asked all of sudden, making her lose her humour, only a brief smile remaining. Sweet.

"Sure, why not..."

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Part 4

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Tags: @cxptain​ @mermaidxatxheart @smilexcaptainx , @murdermornings​@irepostthingsiwanttoseelater , @polarcrystall​ @eliza5616​, @rayofdawnworld  @victor-criss-bish​ @skychild29​  @elysianecho​ @simmisblog​ @scentedsongrebel​ @orions-nebula​, @sergeantrosabellaswan​ @songofcosplay​, @ilovesupersoldiers​ @wxstedhexrt​

Tags are open ;) If you want in or out, shoot me a message or an ask :))

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Steve from Spiderman: Homecoming taking a chair to sit with me:  

“So, your fic got a bit longer than expected. Again…. “

Oops? I need a lot of fluffy Steve, amazing Natasha and exasperated Tony in my life :D

THANK YOU FOR READING :-*

[morganas-pendragons]

take my hand, i’ll keep you close | obi-wan

in which i cannot do short titles anymore, sorry 

requested by @karasong​: may i please request an obi-wan/reader where they get stuck in the rain and he’s upset about it but the reader takes the opportunity to dance in it and he can’t help but smile, and then they dance together? 

made this a female reader, i hope it’s okay!!!

this is 100% a steal of can i have this dance from high school musical and no, i’m not sorry - and yes, it’s the planet from the scene where anakin eats bugs in the cartoon nope i’m also not sorry for that either 

tagging: @obiorbenkenobi​ // @dressed-up-heartbreak​ 

This was so not the way he wanted to spend his day. It was supposed to be a relatively easy mission to Nelvaan. A relatively easy mission in which the two of you were scoping out the area for General Grievous, who had supposedly been spotted in this sector and had been.. well.. evasive for the most part. 

Now here you both sat tucked away in a hidden area waiting for Anakin who had gone maker knew where. Obi-Wan was asleep to your left, head resting in your lap as you both tried and failed to sleep in one of the most beautiful storms you’d ever seen. 

Fortunately for you, you loved storms. How can you not love that in which you are the living embodiment of? 

  “You’re staring again.” 

Water dropped from a nearby overhang and dampened the hood of his cloak as he nestled deeper into it. “How can I not?” You marveled. “We’ve been here for a kriffing month. I’m tired of sitting around and doing nothing while Anakin traipses around out there.” 

  “We’re not doing nothing. We’re waiting for... ah.. relief.” Which basically meant i’m gonna whine here like a child in the créche because i’m not getting my way until the actual relief did come. 

You gently laid his head back on the wooden bench the two of you had been sitting on and shed your robes and saber beside him before taking one last look at the brewing storm just outside your refuge. “Yeah, well.” You replied swiftly. “I’m looking for relief. I’d like to not be a Jedi for five minutes. You wanna join me?” 

He sunk deeper into his robe and harrumphed in reply, crossing his arms over his chest before turning his head away from you. Obi-Wan had grown up on Coruscant which had a mildly temperate climate anyways, which means he wasn’t nearly as accustomed to weather like this as you were. It made him, well.. grumpy. 

It was kind of cute. 

“No. You enjoy yourself.” His expression softened briefly for a moment as Obi-Wan looked you up and down before curling back against the wall. “You deserve a relief.” 

Your heart sank. This war had barely started and yet you knew it would have a long-lasting effect on his heart. Maybe even his soul. It wasn’t like he wasn’t a walking tragedy already with how much suffering he’d endured since Naboo and before. 

  “So do you.” 

With that, you ventured out into the dark. Obi-Wan watched as a brilliant crack of lightning consumed the darkness of the sky that spread out before him - illuminating your figure in an aura of white light - before he allowed his eyes to shift away from the growing storm and back to you. 

You. In all your silver tongued, quick witted, sharp skills with your mouth and saber and a knack for absolutely demolishing the enemy before he could fully conclude his terms of surrender negotiations with the opposing General. You’d lost your clone squad months ago - the reason why, you’d never said and he absolutely understood why once he saw your nightmares firsthand - but after that, you were a force to be reckoned with. Fighting alongside you put him at ease. 

However, this was a different type of ease. This was peace. Seeing you out there in that storm and spinning without a care in the world made his heart clench as he suddenly realized why he was so drawn to you. You were what he wanted when the war was over. You were safety, security, assurance, goodness... 

You were what The Jedi should’ve been. Would never be. Maybe he should’ve aspired to be more like you. 

  “C’mon, Obi-Wan!” You yelled across the clearing. It was relatively clear of any droids and there was no one in sight outside of the clone scouts on the perimeter on the outskirts of the siege, which meant that the two of you were alone. “Stop being a kriffing buzzkill! Come dance with me!” 

Ah. One problem. He didn’t know how to dance. 

Obi-Wan Kenobi wanted to be at home in The Temple in his bed. He wanted a warm meal and companionship and lightsaber training with Anakin, he wanted to not be in a war because this wasn’t the purpose of Jedi. They were peacekeepers. Not soldiers. 

Maybe for a moment. Maybe he’ll drop The Negotiator and The General for just a moment to allow himself the ability to be just.. Obi-Wan. A man. A human man who, no matter how much he denied it, had desires. A heart. 

They seemed to all revolve around you. 

You looked like a girl. A woman who had never had the opportunity to do things normal girls did. A girl soaked to the bone by the chilling rain that poured down from the skies as they broke open and cast the world in darkness. Despite that, there you were, your Force Signature the brightest light in an otherwise bleak world. 

So he followed you - followed your light - into the dark. 

Boots caked with mud and robes dripping wet with the chill of the rain, Obi-Wan ventured into the open and for a split second allowed himself to forget about the war. He forgot about the clones who had died and the Jedi who had followed them, he’d forgotten about the threat of the Sith and The Chosen One and just allowed himself to exist. Just for a moment. 

The real part - the part where he lived - was birthed whenever he met you across the gap. 

  “C’mon, Obi-Wan.” You mused. Your voice was just barely audible enough to be heard over the rumble of thunder that resounded ahead. “Take my hand. What are you afraid of? A girl?” 

It’s not the girl. It’s falling in love with the girl he was afraid of. 

  “I must confess, my dear-” Obi-Wan went scarlet as your brow rose and you again motioned with a flick of your gaze to your waving fingers that were gestured out towards him. He rubbed the nape of his neck awkwardly as you waited for him to continue. “I am unsure of how to dance.” 

  “Well, lucky for you..” You took his left hand in your own and laid the other one against the swell of your hip, nearly visible through the sheer fabric of your tunic. It took every ounce of his self control to not allow his eyes to travel below your shoulders. “Well, fortunately for you, I grew up amongst the wealthiest people on Alderaan. I spent much of my adolescence learning the art of dancing. You just happen to have the perfect partner.” 

Ah. That he did.

  “We have no music.” He argued. 

You tilted your chin up to look at the blues of his eyes. “You don’t need it,” You said. “Follow my lead. I’ll keep you close.” 

Take my hand, take a breath, pull me close and take one step 

Obi-Wan was nothing if not a quick learner. He listened to the words of your songs as if they were the same words spoken by Master Jinn, by Master Yoda, by his crèche teacher all those years ago. He wanted to learn what you were trying to teach him. 

Keep your eyes locked with mine 

And let the music be your guide 

The mud beneath your feet became forgotten and the rain nothing but a numbing chill as you allowed yourself to sink into the familiarity of Obi-Wan Kenobi and the warmth that was his Force Signature. His hand at your hip, the piercing blue of his eyes that never left yours, the way he moved in perfect sync with your movements. 

He fought and danced the same way he moved. Gracefully, beautifully, and with the perfect poise. Little did Obi-Wan know that this specific song - a confession of hidden feelings - was meant to be a way for the possibility of more to bloom. He had to be willing to take it. He had to want it as badly as you did. 

Now would you promise me, that you’ll never forget

To keep dancing wherever we go next? 

On a ridge overlooking the clearing the two of you occupied, Marshall Commander Cody smiled to himself as he peered through the haze of rain that fogged his scope. There was nothing he’d wanted more then his General to be happy for the moment they’d met. Even through the scopes, Cody could see that happiness he so often denied himself very much came from you. 

it’s my catch of lightning, the chances of finding someone like you 

The longer you danced, the more vulnerable the gaps in your shielding were. Being around Obi-Wan and repressing your feelings for so long even after knowing each other for a short amount of time had been difficult, to say the least, but now that you were in the middle of either the best or worst choice you’d ever made, you wanted him to see it. You wanted him to see you and how you’d dreamt for the future. 

A future that always, no matter how hard you tried to ignore it, somehow included him. 

It’s one in a million, the chances of feeling the way we do

And with every step together

We just keep on getting better 

The galaxy talks about Kenobi and Skywalker. But will they talk about you two? The perfect partners? The calm to his chaos? The warmth to your chill? How you were always at his back on the battlefield, and how he carried you across a war zone - bloody and bruised and dying - to get you to the Cruiser because he’d rather risk his own life then lose yours? 

Can I have this dance... Can I have this dance? 

  “Do you feel it?!” You yelled over the pouring rain, arms outstretched as he’d grown so much more confident in his abilities that Obi-Wan was spinning you around the same way you’d spun yourself before you started. You didn’t see the way he grinned. The way his Force shined because of your joy. 

  “Feel what?” 

  “Free!” 

Oh, no mountain's too high and no ocean's too wide 'Cause together or not, our dance won't stop

Neither of you had realized how much time had passed as the rain slowed to a drizzle and the sun began to peer over the forest around you. You were too enraptured with each other. 

Let it rain, let it pour, what we have is worth fighting for You know I believe that we were meant to be, yeah

  “Your thoughts of the future are beautiful.” 

You steadied your hands against his shoulders as he nudged your cheek with his nose while you continued to hum as daylight shone over you both. “They’re only beautiful because you’re in it.” You murmured. “If you want it - want that future - come take it.” 

  “We have a war to fight.” A brutally true reality. “Are you sure there will be an after?” 

It's like catching lightning The chances of finding someone like you

You pushed wet robes off his shoulders and ruffled his hair to where it hung just over his brow bone. Disregarding the precise calculation of each movement of his feet, Obi-Wan tossed all care into the wind and took both of your hands to rest against his face.

It's one in a million, the chances to feeling

The way we do

  “As long as we stay together, there’ll always be an after.” 

And with every step together

We just keep on getting better 

  “Be with me. Not just now, but when we’re on the battlefield and when we win the war and when we leave The Order to find our after.” The two of you slow to a stop, and he nodded and nodded and nodded again to show you that he meant it, and before you could help yourself - you were kissing the living daylights out of Obi-Wan Kenobi. 

So can I have this dance? 

[suga-honey-icedtea]

“you’ve been hiding something from me, haven’t you?” with red velvet's seulgi please? thank you! i love your writing so much, from now on, i'll stick with you til' the end uwu call me 🐰 anon

oh my gosh thank you so much 🥺🥺 you’re absolutely one of the sweetest people ever lil bun anon thank you so much for your support! i really hope you like this uwu also i’m so sorry it’s so long! i got a little carried away 😅😅

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 “What’re you doing?” Seulgi’s voice boomed across the room, making Y/N jump from the sudden shock. Their head quickly turned to face Seulgi, a sheepish smile already forming as they continued to inch toward the door.

 “I’m just going out with Yeri and Sooyoung!” Y/N quickly answered back, inching closer to the door than they had been when Seulgi caught them. Seulgi frowned at the answer, her mouth falling open to say something further before she was cut off by Y/N. “Which I’m going to be late to, so bye! Don’t wait up!”

 The door slammed shut and Seulgi was left alone yet again. She couldn’t help her frown only deepening as a sigh left her. Y/N had been acting strangely for a few weeks now, spending more time with the other girls and less time with Seulgi. 

 Not that she had a place to say anything, the two of them weren’t even dating, technically. Just some heavy flirting and perhaps a drunk kiss or two from some parties they’d attended together. Seulgi didn’t try to hide her crush, either, and had thought maybe Y/N felt the same for her. But, the more time they spent with Yeri or Sooyoung or anyone else, the further away that thought seemed to be.

 Seulgi sighed again before getting up, deciding to just get ready for bed early and call it a night. Tomorrow was her birthday and she didn’t want to spend it being salty and crabby. That was another reason she was even more upset over Y/N’s lack of presence lately. They always spent their birthdays together and Seulgi wasn’t even sure if this year would be the same. Y/N seemed way more interested in what their other friends were doing. Sliding under her covers, Seulgi squeezed her eyes shut and tried to push away the thoughts so she could sleep. 

 The next day, Seulgi woke up with a smile and excitement bubbling inside her. She didn’t waste any time scrolling through her phone, opting to get dressed and face the world. When she reached the kitchen, though, it was void of any life. Seulgi couldn’t help but frown, backtracking to check Y/N’s room that was down the hallway from her own.

 Opening the door, Seulgi’s heart dropped when she noticed it was completely empty. Walking back to the kitchen to make a bowl of cereal, Seulgi finally noticed the note stuck to the fridge, addressed to her.

 “‘Good morning Seul~ I won’t be around until later today so I hope you have a good day at work! Love, Y/N’, seriously?” Seulgi read aloud, her eyebrows furrowing before she crumpled the note up and threw it away. Not only did Y/N not even acknowledge what today was, but they wouldn’t even be home until later. Seulgi was practically fuming as she stormed back to her room to get ready for work without eating breakfast.

 By the time Seulgi was off of work, she had calmed down some and instead, the anger was replaced with sadness. Her coworkers had got her a small cake, even singing happy birthday for her and everything. Seulgi sniffled a little as she carefully set the cake in the passenger seat with her bag before getting into the driver’s seat.

 Before she could begin driving, her phone began to ring and the last person she wanted to talk to’s name flashed across the screen. She picked up anyway, quickly trying to suck up the few tears still there. “Hello?”

 “Seulgi! Are you off work yet? I want to hang out~!” Y/N’s voice sang through the phone with a laugh, but Seulgi only scoffed. Y/N heard and their tone immediately shifted. “Seul? Are you okay?”

 “I don’t know, Y/N. Am I okay? You tell me.” Seulgi snapped back and the awkward tension could be felt through the phone, especially when Y/N awkwardly laughed at her words.

 “Just come home already! I wanna hang out with you--”

 “You suddenly want to hang out with me?” Seulgi couldn’t help but ask, biting on her lip as she tried to hold back the rest of the word vomit threatening to spill out. It didn’t help, though. “How come all of a sudden you want to spend time with me? Are Yeri and Sooyoung too busy for you, now? You’ve been hiding something from me, haven’t you? You’re dating one of them, aren’t you? Or, at least, screwing one of them?”

 The silence that followed broke Seulgi’s heart and she didn’t bother to wait for an answer. Hanging up, Seulgi started her car in tears and sped out of the parking lot and toward home. She was embarrassed she’d exploded on Y/N like that but also hurt that she was probably right in her accusations. Yeri and Sooyoung were way prettier than her, younger too. Y/N’s types for sure. Seulgi furiously wiped at her eyes at a stoplight, deciding there that she’d apologize for how she reacted but demand her own apology in return. She deserved some apology from Y/N for leading her on.

 Parking her car outside, Seulgi quickly grabbed her cake and bag and marched toward the door. She wanted to do this quickly and painlessly before moving onto a silent treatment. Her keys jingled in the lock and it took her far too long to unlock the door and open it.

 “Y/N? Are you here? We need to talk.” Seulgi called out into the darkness, frowning when she realized just how dark it was. She carefully walked into the kitchen in the dark to set the cake down on the counter before making her way to the living room.

 When she flicked the lights on, the last thing she was expecting was a bunch of balloons and confetti thrown around the room with a large sign behind the group of smiling people that read “Happy Birthday Seulgi” in giant black letters.

 “Happy birthday!” Sooyoung was the first to skip over to the still shocked Seulgi, ignoring the obvious tear tracks and hugging her tightly instead. “I got you the best present out of everyone here.”

 “That’s debatable.” Yeri countered as she stepped closer, smiling at Seulgi. “Happy birthday, Seulgi. Sorry for the confetti mess.”

 “This is...for me?” Seulgi looked around incredulously at the groups of people socializing together, drinking and laughing with party hats sitting on their heads. Sooyoung giggled as she squeezed Seulgi tighter, nodding in answer.

 “Of course! We’ve been planning this for weeks, honestly. Y/N wouldn’t let anyone rest until it was all perfect!” Sooyoung explained, frowning once she looked around for the organizer of the event. “I don’t know where they are, though--”

 “I saw them slink off to the bathroom, I think.” Yeri shrugged before grabbing Sooyoung and dragging her away from Seulgi to talk to some other friends. Seulgi quickly turned toward the bathroom, thanking a few people on the way before she finally reached the door.

 Y/N was sitting in the bathtub when Seulgi popped her head inside, sniffling a little to themselves in the otherwise empty room. Stepping inside, Seulgi quietly closed the door behind her, drawing Y/N’s attention toward her. “O-Oh, Seulgi--”

 “I’m so sorry I didn’t trust you, Y/N.” Seulgi immediately dropped to her knees on the outside of the tub, taking Y/N’s hands into her own while she spoke. “I let my emotions get the best of me. I was so hurt that you weren’t spending time with me, I automatically assumed you were a thing with one of the other girls and were just playing with my heart.”

 “No, never.” Y/N’s voice quietly croaked and Seulgi gave them a sad smile. 

 “I realize that now and I’m so sorry for what I said to you.” She whispered and gently placed a kiss on their hand. Y/N sucked in a deep breath, a smile forming when Seulgi’s eyes finally met theirs again. “Why are you smiling?”

 “I was planning on doing this after everyone left.” Y/N mumbled as they carefully shifted, pulling a small box out from their pocket to place on the edge of the tub between them. Seulgi carefully picked the box up, looking to Y/N for permission before opening it to reveal a rose gold flower ring. “I wanted to ask you to be my girlfriend, officially. I was gonna give you this ring after everyone left and it was just us. But, I guess now is as good a time as any--”

 Y/N was cut off as Seulgi gently pressed her lips against theirs, leaning over the edge of the tub and praying that Y/N could feel every ounce of emotion she was feeling, too. When she pulled away, the tears that fell down Seulgi’s cheeks were tears of joy instead of tears of hurt.

 “A million times yes. I’d love to be your girlfriend.” Seulgi whispered against their lips, giggling when Y/N’s cheeks turned pink. Kissing them one more time, Seulgi sighed in content this time, carefully sliding the ring onto her finger and taking time to admire the new piece of jewelry.

 “This is by far the best birthday present you’ve ever given me.”

send me a starter with a name and i’ll write a little drabble

[fairy25]

How did you know you were in love?

I remember the exact moment it happened, it was an evening in early March 2017–if I sat down and thought about it I’m sure I could figure out the exact date and time. It was like the lights flickering on after living your whole life in darkness. Love is wonderful. Love is magic. Love makes the grass greener and the fruit sweeter. I’m not going to take away from that by talking about anything negative that happened with my ex. I hadn’t been that into him initially, I was dating other guys as well. We actually dated for quite a while (I think about six months) before becoming “boyfriend/girlfriend.” We only had sex once that entire time and I was not impressed. Initially, I thought he was physically attractive which is rare for me, but he’s not like a model or anything like that. I’d always liked really big guys before him and he’s petite (not short, just tiny despite being really in shape - I’ve never seen another man with his build and there’s a reason he looked like that but I don’t feel it’s appropriate to share). I found some of his habits/mannerisms annoying. I never slept over because he snored like a goddamn chainsaw. He was obnoxious and unappealing to me at times. He was too loud and my friends didn’t like him. I thought I could do better. I thought he was just some guy to pass the time with when I had nothing better to do. But love changes that. You no longer see a person’s flaws or features, everything blends together and they just looks like 💖💘💝💕💞💓. Suddenly he became the most beautiful person to me. Even though I knew logically he wasn’t, to me he became perfect. I couldn’t get enough of him. Everything he did and said became mesmerizing. I loved the sound of his voice and laugh and his smile and the way his eyes would light up when he looked at me. I loved sleeping next to him and waking up next to him. I loved learning about what interested him and watching him have fun. I loved running errands with him and how we could do nothing together happily. I loved his mother and his dog and his friends and his music and anything else that brought him joy. I loved how he would cup my face in his hands and cover me in kisses. I loved how he needed me—I loved that I was the person he called when he didn’t feel well or didn’t know what to do. I loved looking at him. I would spend nights lying awake just staring at him sometimes. I loved how he dressed, I loved his body and that he was little like me. I loved having sex with him, being close to him, how he’d get home from work and just collapse on top of me. We were always touching one another, laying on one another, braiding our bodies into one and not at all in a sexual way. All the things I once found off-putting became the things I loved, things I adored. Everyone else went away, became gray and ugly in comparison. I knew I was in love, absolutely. I knew with every ounce of my being. I loved him so much that I know I always will—quietly. That version of me will always love that version of him, and that version of me still exists in my memories and visits me from time to time. I will always look back on our good moments together with joy. If you’re not sure, you’re not in love. Love is knowing. Love is choosing someone. And hoping they choose you too. Honestly, I loved him so much that it terrified me and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to love anyone like that again. And I don’t know that I’d want to. I would have died for him without a moment’s hesitation. I would have sold my soul for a little more time.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #309

“show me how to lie - you’re getting better all the time  /  and turning all against one is an art that’s hard to teach.”

Have you ever played Jackbox Games? If so, which ones of their party games are your favorites? No, but I looooove watching Mark and The Boys play them on charity streams. They can make up the funniest shit. I can't recall the name of the specific one I'm thinking of... but I enjoy watching most of them. I do think one or two are boring, though. Do you have artistic friends? If so, have you got their artwork displayed? I have some very talented friends, but I don't have anything of theirs displayed somewhere. Have you ever considered pole dancing? Why/why not? No. It takes an incredible amount of strength, plus confidence I don't have. That and I'm just not into it. What's the last thing you fixed yourself? Uhhhhhhh bitch I couldn't tell ya. Are there any CDs you've held onto for sentimental reasons? No. Did you read the Barbie magazines with comics made with the actual dolls? "I didn’t know that was a real thing." <<<< Me either. What's the last thing you knitted? I've never knitted before. Who was your first online friend? Emma. :') She was the first person who joined my RP mob back in the Animal Planet forum days. Why do you take surveys? Be honest. Boredom, distraction, and sometimes I just wanna ramble about whatever. Does mail get delivered to your door or do you have a mailbox outside? Our mailbox is by the side of the road at the end of our driveway. Your doorbell rings out of the blue. What's your reaction? Let Mom answer it. I don't answer the door ever if I don't expect someone or can peek outside and don't recognize them. Are all the lamps in your home LED or other energy saving lights? I don't know. Do you prefer writing by hand or typing? Typing. I can't write very long at all before my carpal tunnel flares up. Think of one of the biggest decisions you've had to make in your life...If you made a different choice, how different would your life be now? I'd be dead, that simple. Have you ever taken a course on CPR? No. What makes you laugh most effortlessly? You can guess it pretty easily. What makes you cry most effortlessly? I make it a rule that I "can't" listen to "Eternally Yours" by Motionless In White because there hasn't been even ONE occasion where it hasn't made me cry, even when I was stupid enough to binge it because it's just a good song. I've broken that "rule" before because I do just genuinely enjoy the song, but I know the pain truly isn't worth it, so I haven't heard it in a decently long time. What is the best smell in the whole world? Cinnamon rolls, probably. My body wash is currently that kind of smell, and Jesus Christ it's the best part of showering. Do you wear a watch? No. Can you tell time from an analog clock? Yes. What a time it'll be when kids can't anymore... Is there a number or a combination of numbers that feels important to you? Only dates, but not numbers themselves. What is the most socially awkward thing you've done? *gestures at my life as a whole* Is your computer decorated in any way? No. If your old class was to have a reunion, would you attend it? No. No. I don't want to relive my high school experience; it would be too painful for me to willingly walk into. What's the worst thing that's ever happened to you? I would say "the breakup," but technically it was letting him basically own me and my every neuron of joy. Not by his will of course, but my own. I was stupid and just... handed those rights over without really realizing it. I can harp forever and ever and EVER about the importance of making sure you own yourself and your emotions. Do you ever donate money to charity? If so, which charity and why? Blah blah blah, I don't get an income, you know this. Whenever I do, I 100% plan on donating to every charity stream Mark ever hosts again, as well as some other people's. I'd love to donate to a lot of places. Would you ever want to get married? If so, why? Yes, because society has made it too instilled in me that it's just like... this ultimate validation of "forever" with your partner, even though I know you can be just as or even far more invested in your relationship without marriage. The only *true* benefit of marriage imo is for legal and financial reasons, but yeah, I still want it. Like I said, it's too deeply embedded in that brain of mine that it's a relationship goal. Why do you live the way you do? I'm not even living the way I want to, so... Have you ever abused an animal? No, and I say "fuck you" with every ounce of sincerity and loathing if you have. Do you think animals are less important than humans? If so, why? Nope. We share this earth and grew from the same roots, so what *really* makes us better? We might be smarter (generally) and more developed as the apex predator, but that does not equate to being more important than, say, even a gnat. That creature has the exact same level of rights to be here as the human species does. I could go on and on and on about this topic. How close was the last person close to you who has died? Not extremely, but she was still important to and loved by me. Grandma and I were very, very different and butted heads more than once, but her love was unconditional, and she showed boundless kindness to others. She showed a courage I see as unmatched in the face of death. I truly, deeply, in the very core of my heart hope she is at peace and experiencing all joys she ever wished for. How does death in general make you feel? Well, it depends on how I'm looking at it. I fully accept it is an inevitable phase in simply existing that none of us will ever evade, so it's not exactly terrifying to me, though of course I don't want it anytime soon. If I'm thinking about people I love dying, I definitely get sad about it and scared of that possibly eternal separation. Is there a person you absolutely loathe? If so, why do you loathe them? Not that I know personally, no. Has anyone ever told you that you're rude? If so, what caused it? No; I think I'm very mannerly, honestly. Have you ever seen a therapist? I've regularly seen therapists since I started middle school. I advocate for everyone to have one, honestly, whether you have a mental illness or not. Have you ever been homeless? In technical terms, yes, but a friend let me stay with her until Mom and I settled into a new place. Have you ever been completely broke? That's the actual story of my life. Well, not me personally considering I've never had to take care of myself financially, but my mom struggles very, very badly with this, and mind you, she's frugal. Just disgustingly underpaid when she worked, and her current status with disability isn't exactly incredibly generous. I live under her roof, so. Have you ever had a steady job? No. Have you ever needed a loan? If so, what for? Have you paid it back? Yes, for school, and no. I do NOT want to know how in debt I am with schools. Have you ever wanted to go to space? Not seriously, no. What's the weirdest thing you've ever seen or heard? I am 99.99% sure mine and Jason's old roommates were having some ~kinky~ sex once while I was alone on the couch against their bedroom. Preeeetty sure the girl was making meowing sounds. They were furries (who I want to emphasize have zero judgment from me; I actually think they're very brave and creative), so that was... something I definitely wasn't used to hearing, haha. What has been the most exciting moment of your life thus far? Probably when Mark N O T I C E D me on Tumblr by reblogging a gif I made of him and his pupper, and I LITERALLY struggled to sleep for three days lmfaoooo. How many birds can you name just by looking at them? Uhhhh a pretty decent amount, I'd say. Which birds are most common around your neighborhood? Crows, sparrows, cardinals and bluejays if you're lucky, robins... pretty basic stuff like that. What do you think is the most interesting sea creature? Octopi are absolutely fascinating with their intelligence. How do you reset your head to zero, so to speak? Take a nap. That usually works. Have you ever gone exploring an abandoned building? Yeah, I love that shit and really wish I could do it more. Bring my camera, too. Are there any foreign television shows you enjoy watching? Some animes. Do you have any clocks in your house that chime when the hour changes? Do those types of clocks annoy you? No. I actually quite like them, though. Has anyone ever let you borrow some of their music, promising you'd love it, but you really didn't? Did you lie to the person and agree, or tell the truth, that you hated it? My dad lent me his Shinedown CD once clearly without thinking I could just look up the album online, haha... He's an old clueless man, leave 'im be. But anyway, of course I listened to it for him and I enjoyed it; I especially loved "The Human Radio," "Kill Your Conscience" and "Pyro." Have you had the same doctor pretty much your whole life, or have you went to a bunch of different ones over the years? Have you ever been to the doctor thinking something was horribly wrong with you, but it turned out to be something minor? Mine has changed a few times, but I haven't had "a bunch." As for the second question, not to my recollection. Is the background on your phone a default picture, or a picture you took? What is the picture of? The lock screen is a pastel-styled list of mental health reminders: "i am strong, i am loved, i am enough." My home screen has been some adorable meerkat pups for a while, which I didn't take. What is your favorite type of print (ex: zebra, stripes, argyle)? Do you have a lot of things with this print on it? Ummmm maybe plaid? No. Are there any stores you feel uncomfortable going into (ex: if you dress girly, do you feel uncomfortable going into Hot Topic)? Are there any stores that you refuse, or just never go in to? The only situation I could think of would be a sex shop. That'd be so fuckin uncomfortable. What is your favorite brand of clothing? Is this a brand that is sort of expensive, or is it pretty affordable? I'm heavily biased towards Cloak, haha. I just support anything and everything Mark takes part it, and it's his and jacksepticeye's business. I have one shirt and it's genuinely great quality and reall comfy. I wouldn't call its products expensive, but they're not cheap, either. What person do you text the most? My mom or Sara, depending on the day. Do you have any pictures that always make you laugh, or cry? Are they digital pictures, or printed pictures? What is the significance? No. Not pictures I have anymore, at least. Have you ever eaten raw pumpkin? Omg I would never. I hate the flavor of any sort of pumpkin food. Does your car have a name? I don't have my own car, but Mom jokingly calls hers "Olivia." Who was the last person you made plans with? One of my sister's in-laws that's actually the mother of one of my closest friends contacted me to plan some family pictures. What is the rudest thing someone has done recently towards you? I can't think of anything recent. How do you feel about your hair right now? It needs to be trimmed and dyed. How fast have you driven a car? I think accidentally leaning towards 80 on a highway. When you're hanging out with friends + you become bored, do you just leave or endure the boredom? Given I can't leave without a car, I deal with it. What did you last plug into your computer? What were you doing with this? The charger for obvious reasons. What color(s) have you dyed your hair? Red, purple, black, then red, purple, and lighter brown highlights. I really wish I could dye it more and actually have the color stick... Was your first kiss perfect? It was to me. What song did you hear last? I have "Over The Mountain" by Ozzy on now. (: Does anyone have any blackmail on you? No. Have you ever walked into the guys' bathroom? HA, once during a teacher work day (my mom was an assistant) at my elementary school. My sisters and friends went in there to be little "rebels." I remember being mega confused with urinals, haha. Then as a teen and adult, I've been in the dance studio's boy's restroom as well as a church's to help Mom clean. Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with? My therapist. Are you shy? I am VERY shy. Are you talkative? Generally, no, but when I'm in a very good mood, I tend to be. Has your most recent ex ever seen you cry? Oh jeez, she saw me wail once. When was the last time you were called "cute"? I'm not sure. Would you rather be called "hot", "cute" or "beautiful"? "Beautiful." Do you have a little sister? Yep. Definitely not "little" anymore, though. About to have her Master's in social work... How many arguments have you had with the last person you kissed? Given our childhood, we've fought a lot, but mostly just as kids over very, very stupid things. As adults, we've had a serious argument once or twice and then just some very minor disagreements sprinkled in there. Do you know anyone who's been arrested? Oh yes. What're you planning on doing after this? Another survey. What time did you go to sleep last night? Damn, it wasn't even 8:00. I was EXHAUSTED and actually slept decently for once in my life. Do you like waking up to good morning texts in the morning? I mean, I'd think most people would. It's a sweet, easy way of someone showing they care and think about you. Have you left some things unsaid with a certain person? Yeah. What was the last thing that made you happy? We had syrup to add to my breakfast, haha. I don't know if these are a thing everywhere, but I looove what we just call "pancakes on a stick," which is like a corndog, but with sausage and pancake batter. Dipping it in syrup is amaaaaaaziiiiiiing. Do you like the smell of rain? I don't love it, but it's refreshing sometimes. It's mostly just associated with a bittersweet memory, so it can be triggering to smell. I know, that sounds immensely stupid. What was the last thing you took a picture of? A very, very relatable meme to show Sara, haha. She doesn't have a Facebook, so that'll do. When you go to McDonald's, what drink do you usually get? I always get a Coke. What’s the nickname of your home state? Tar Heel State, from discovering tar in the since aptly-named Tar River. Have you ever thought about your wedding? I mean duh. What’s the worse type of weather in your opinion? Hot and humid, ugh. Especially right after a summer afternoon thunderstorm. It's unbearable. You can't fucking breathe outside, and you set one foot out of the door and it's soaked. Do you have a Kindle or iPad or neither? Neither. Would you rather read or write? Write. When was the last time someone took a picture of you? The time Misty visited last month and we were taking family pictures. Would you rather see Taylor Swift or Carrie Underwood in concert? I wouldn't pay for either or even willingly go to one or the other, but if I had to go for whatever reason, Carrie. She has a beautiful voice as well as a good handful of songs I actually like. I'm not a Taylor fan; there are only like, two old songs by her I enjoy. When someone screws you over, do you get back with revenge? No. I may not be the best at adulting, but damn, I'm not that bad. Name something negative that you hate about yourself? I overthink like a motherfucker. About everything. Is there a dead end road near where you live? I live on one. Huh, that's actually been the case three times... wow. Four if you count the apartment. Who are you tired of seeing in the news a lot (celebrities)? I don't care. I don't even pay attention to the news, other than Covid updates. Have you ever had to call and complain about a product you bought? No. Name something positive you love about yourself: I care a lot about people. Can you smell anything right now? No, besides however my house naturally smells that I'm numb to. Have you spoken to a relative on the phone today? No. How does alcohol affect you? I flush in my face very obviously, and I become more outgoing and talkative. Have you ever eaten tofu and if so, did you enjoy it? I've never tried it, but I very much doubt I'd enjoy it. What was the last type of meat you ate? Pork. What colour is your toothpaste? Blue and white. Have you ever been suspended from school? No. Have you ever inhaled helium? Once, I believe. Are you a fan of Adam Sandler? Yeah, I think he's pretty funny and a talented actor. What was the last fruit you ate? An apple. A candied apple for Valentine's Day, but still an apple, haha. Have you ever watched Parks and Recreation? With Sara's family, yeah. It was fine. Have you watched a movie this week? I haven't watched a movie in many months. Have you set an alarm today? Yeah, just to ensure I was up for group therapy today. Have you asked someone for advice today? No. What was the last website you were on, other than this one? YouTube. Have you ever been to Hawaii? No, but it'd be cool. Well, thinking about the humidity... Have you watched more than an hour of TV today? No; I haven't watched television in a long time. Do you keep magazines by your toilet? No. The last time you got dressed up, where did you go? I got my makeup done and put on a dress for a Halloween "witch" shoot with my friend and some other people. The pictures pretty much don't exist because they're blurry as shit and way too dark because we left too late. I don't know why we even left the house to do it by the time everyone figured their shit out. I was really disappointed because I thought Summer made me look really, really pretty. ;_; Did the one person who hurt you the most in your life apologize? Yes, but I don't know if he really meant it. He might have just wanted me off his back, but I kinda feel now that he meant it, at least regarding how it happened. Are you proud of who you are? Only in the sense that I think I have a good heart. Otherwise, no. I've accomplished so little. Have you ever been to Costco? We don't have those here, so no. Do/did you have to wear a uniform to your high school? No, thank Christ. Only in middle school. How many video games do you own? A whole lot. Have you ever been to a casino? If so, which one(s)? No. Have you ever visited a sex shop? No. How many sets of keys do you have for your house? One. Do you give spare keys to your place to your friends and family? Our landlord/family friend has one. Then obviously my sisters do, too. Have you ever ridden a bicycle through a busy city? Oh hell no. Do you use Instagram? How often do you post there? Yes, two for each of my photography "styles." I don't post a lot myself, but I react to stuff. When was the last time you high-fived someone? I believe the last time I was at my sister's and my nephew caught a Pokemon on his first throw in Pokemon GO. He and his sister LOVE that game; that's the first thing they ask to do when I come over, haha. Their dad doesn't like it because it's "evil" (which he finds most things, really...), and it's something I could roll my eyes into the back of my head about, but I still have to respect his parenting and ask if they can play it first. He let's 'em, just not long. He also took away the Pikachu plushy I gave Aubree because it's her favorite one. :^) Guess who doesn't fuckin like him lmao. Do you like writing? How often do you write? I love writing! I don't do it very much nowadays except through surveys, though. RP is kinda on pause, so surveys is really how I just get stuff out, even if it isn't creative. Are there any posters or artworks hanging in your living room? Artwork and family photos, yes. What's your favourite place to get pizza? I'm a basic bitch that loves her some Domino's. How many times have you been to the beach? Quite a few times. We live only like two hours away, and considering Myrtle Beach is a common dance competition location, we've been a couple handfuls of instances. Has there ever been a fire inside your house? Tell me the story. No. After we moved out of my childhood house though that we actually owned, the fucking idiots who were moving in completely roasted it to pitch by setting boxes on the goddamn stove and accidentally turning it on. The house had to be entirely rebuilt. My parents were livid considering it was THEIR house. Have you ever had a scary encounter with a wild animal? No. What was the best school project you remember doing? I actually really enjoyed the huge essay I did on toxic masculinity the last time I tried college. I've always been very firm about letting men be humans and not emotionless robots, but I learned a lot more while researching and writing. Name a video game you can play over and over again: Shadow of the Colossus is #1. I've beaten it at least 30 times, maybe even 40+; it's been too long since I've seen the save files. It's a relatively short game (you can beat it in less than like, four hours if you know what you're doing) and just very relaxing yet simultaneously absolutely epic to me. God, I want a PS4 to play the remaster, like beyond words. It looks incredible, and I want to try to get white Agro. Have you ever petted a cow, a sheep, or a pig? A pig, yes. I love pigs.

[razorblade180]

Duality

“I.... am not okay. Haven’t been since I was six, but even then, I was a pretty weak child. I’m quick to tears, quick to give up, and to give in. No matter how talented people may say I am it still feels like I’m coming up short. Short, another thing that gets to me. I might as well be the runt of everything; the weakest link in any chain. Just a bit a of tension before pop, severed and left falling to the floor with whoever was unfortunate to still be attached with me. At least they can still connect to something while I’ll be left broken. Maybe... that wouldn’t be the worst? I could save everyone the trouble of being latched to me if I just- no, wait, shit.... Can’t think like that. Dr. P went over this with you. Focus on the good and good will focus on you. But what is so good about being me? Well, a lot actually when I think about it. My folks love me unconditionally. My best friend adores me; even strangers adore me. Some of them would say that their even proud of me. Though I can’t imagine why. Does simply being their daughter earn my that praise or is it genuine? They all do so much more; my brother does his absolute most. It’s frustrating. Why can’t I do that? Why can’t I stand by him? Be the one in front of him for a change!? Is that so much to ask; to just feel like I’m pulling my weight with my own two hands for once in my life? Why isn’t he the runt? The one that got- that’s horrible of me. Disgusting of me; I don’t mean that at all. I’d never wish for such a thing, yet....I crossed my mind? I wouldn’t think that. He’s my big brother, I love him. He’s always there, always.... Why the hell is he always there? Why is everyone always there!? Don’t they know I can do things on my own? Is their faith that tiny? Agh, what am I saying; they do it out of love. It’s always been love. But it doesn’t make it feel any better! It never did. All it does is prove how weak I really am. Huh, this was supposed to be a list of good things....”

“I need a stage. Any stage really. A place where I decide who gets to join me or stand on the sidelines. Either way, the focus is on me. They all came to see me and make them happy. No sweat. Metaphorically anyways. I’ll make sure my performance heats up their excitement every time. Spotlights? On me. Their eyes? On me. My voice? It’s still mine. They simply get the chance to revel in it. Here, nothing else matters but me. I call the shots. I rule like queen. Powerful and radiant. It’s tiring work. Scary at times, but I love that thrill. Out there, no one can touch me; she can’t touch me. My only wish...is to take all this power, then step off the stage. Maybe then the dark thoughts can go away. I wouldn’t be afraid of what is yet to come. Everyday I can feel it. I’m running out of time. Will they notice? The ones closet will, I hope. The others might not even blink an eye. I sure wouldn’t. Still, I won’t go quietly. They might not notice me. Not who I really am anyways, but they’ll notice the absence of what I gave them. My gift to the world they cherish so dearly. Petty I know, but who are they to complain? If they miss it so much then they’ll seek me out right? Sounds nice, a stranger reaching for me. Funny, I preach about independence but fantasy seeing them all chase after me. I guess....I actually don’t know what I want from people. All I know is I wanna shine all the time. On and off the stage.”

Announcer:Ladies and Gentlemen, Summer Schnee!!’

Curtains rise and spotlights beam down on her as she walks across the stage. The cheering roar of a full stadium of fans hits her ears all at once; she loves it. Her gaze is directed towards an aerial camera which is no doubt getting dynamic shots of the long and beautiful black dress she wore that sparked red flakes like a kindling campfire.

“Hello everyone!” The girl said proudly as she greeted her audience with an award winning smile. She could hear the plethora of greetings she was getting back one after another. Summer took the microphone off the stand and started pacing left and right playfully as she looked at all the excitement.

Summer:Well well well, quite the turnout. Feels like I’m performing at a halftime show. Everyone feeling good this winter break?

The crowd screams happily; completely invigorated.

Summer:That’s good, me too. Been training with my brother for obvious reasons. He’s in the theater box with the rest of my family by the way. Can we get a camera on them?

One of the stadium monitors flip to the inside of the theater box to show the Schnee family and friends all dressed up. From Ruby all the way to Veronica; they were all there waving.

Summer:Most of them are responsible for setting this up since I’ve been a bit preoccupied. I’m thankful. Unfortunately....I still have forgotten to do something very important before the show. *smirking*

Scattered murmurs came from the crowd. As well as a few puzzled looks from her family.

Penny:What’s she doing?

Weiss:I have no clue.

Oscar:Owning it.

Jaune:Being extra like her mom.

Weiss:What’s that mean!?

Summer:You see, I sorta of couldn’t find the time to do my favorite vocal exercises; the most important one I usually do by myself. However.... since all of you look so excited to be here. I can make an exception.

Summer snaps her fingers and all the lights shut off. Everyone goes silent; wondering what was happening only added to the anticipation. They didn’t have to wait long before the sound of a piano filled the air; accompanied by an angelic voice that sung on key with it like if it was the opera. Weiss’s eyes went as wide as dinner plates when a single spot light came back on. Summer was sitting on top of the edge of a piano while someone played it. She looked calm; radiant.

Summer:Mirrior, tell me something? Tell me who’s the loneliest of all~

Weiss:W...when did she...?

More spotlights turn on to reveal the rest of the orchestra as they start to play.

Summer: Mirror, tell me something? Tell me who's the loneliest of all? Mirror, what's inside of me? Tell me can a heart be turned to stone~

Her voice held the note with a force and power. As the piano started it’s solo. No one could speak; they didn’t even seem to breathe. Summer’s voice didn’t try to intimate her mother’s in terms of pitch. She knew it would be foolish. Yet it more than made up for it with how much soul and air she could put into each not. Something even Weiss struggled with. Summer was however, she was about to show everyone exactly how she rose to stardom.

She hopped off the piano and made her way to the front of the stage with the microphone at her side. The average person would think she’s facing the entire crowd. No, she’s looking right where she knows her mom is sitting. The crowd doesn’t matter. Right now, it’s a family affair. Summer slowly inhales as the piano solo starts to end. Her left hand raises to her chest and extends her right one out with the mic. Almost as if she’s reaching for Weiss to grab it. Then....she turns it off.

Without hesitation, Summer begans her part again; and let’s out the famous angelic cry the song is known for. Every ear is reached perfectly as Summer evenly expels every last ounce of air from her lungs out on time. Her chest feels like fire and she’s tearing up. Not from pain though, but from absolute pride. Her mother might be hard to see from this distance but she already knows that Weiss is feeling the exact same thing. The strings start to kick in as the music becomes dynamic. Summer doesn’t miss the beat. Raises her voice along with it as the note climbs before the second half. She flips back on the microphone; never breaking eye contact from Weiss.

Summer: Mirror, mirror, what's behind you?Save me from the things I've seen!

I can keep it from the world; why won't you let me hide from me?

Mirror, mirror, tell me something? Who's the loneliest of, Aaaaaaallllll~

She holds it as the tempo increases faster and faster with the strings building up. Before all instruments stop abruptly as her note trails off; their spotlights vanishing with them and leaving her alone. The crowd is speechless as they look upon her. Not a hair out of place. It barely looks like she needs to catch her as she stare back. Her face glistening with a little sweat. The hard part was over. Her voice returning to the calm an pure way she started with. Summer closed her eyes.

Summer:I'm the loneliest of, all~

She could feel less heat on her. The spotlight had slowly turned off as she finished ilthe beloved song. Summer didn’t need to see the crowds reaction. The slow building of cheers and clapping was enough. Still, she opened her eyes while finally taking an actual breather. What she saw was something rare indeed. Summer had gotten a standing ovation. Even from her family; Veronica herself looked amazed. They all clapped. All except for Weiss. She was too busy crying tears of joy and trying to keep herself together by hugging Jaune. That alone was worth it.

Penny:Sensational!!!!

Nora:Damn...

Ruby:Woah....

Ren:That’s a warm up?

Winter:*sniffling* I’m not gonna cry.

Whitley:Yes you are.

Qrow:Cry? What are you talking about? It’s just smoky in here. *winks*

Winter:*crying* Exactly!

Jaune:Sweetie we are still on the monitor by the way.

Weiss:I don’t care!? Let the world see me proud of my girl! Gods I need a tissue. She was so good! So...so everything and more! I had no idea she practiced that song. Let alone made it her own!

Nicholas:I don’t know how. Those high notes aren’t exactly you know, quiet? I heard her practice once though. Summer does a good job keeping secrets.

Yang:Looks like talent runs deep in the family. What do you think Vee?

Veronica:Doesn’t matter what I think.

Valerie:Just admit that you are amazed?

Veronica:I thought that was clear from my clapping?

Blake:That’s all you’re getting out of her.

The crowd still cheered which was fine by Summer. Someone backstage was kind enough to give her some water as musicians left the stage and came back with the standard instruments for Summer’s typical style of music. One put a guitar around her as she finally perked up.

Summer:Phew! Thank you, thank you all so much. I gotta say, probably my best vocal exercise but that’s just me. Now....who’s ready for something with a bit more energy!?

The crowd doesn’t even get a chance to respond before Summer starts going all in on the guitar. It’s not like she didn’t already know what their answer. That’s what happens when you know your loyal subjects after all. In this moment, she truly controlled everything. It won’t last forever. So she’ll make the most of it. Summer will reign the way she wants with no restraint.

“That’s right. See me in my element; my finest hours. Cling to them. Who knows how many day I have left, before my reign comes to an end. My only wish? That the throne remains empty. Gods help them all otherwise.”

[blackcatkita]

A Not So Blue Christmas

Book: Open Heart

Pairing: Bryce x MC (Kayla)

Word Count: 2925

This is my contribution to the 12 Days of Fictmas- 2019 edition and true to form, I am posting this at the literal eleventh hour. I was assigned “Blue Christmas” by the late and great Elvis Aaron Presley (may he rest in peace). Big thank you to @leelee10898 for hosting this event and wrangling us all and to @darley1101 for creating the awesome moodboard you see below. I hope you like it and happy holidays!

A Not So Blue Christmas

When Kayla matched at Edenbrook, some 980 miles from her hometown of Chicago, she knew there would be things she would miss out on. Her proud Irish family was huge and freakishly close; three brothers and one sister with Kayla smack in the middle, five aunts, three uncles, twenty-six first cousins and an absolute lunatic of a grandmother to round it all out. And that was just on her dad’s side. Birthdays, holidays, graduations, anniversaries; they were spent together whether you wanted to be there or not. Going away to college had been a blessing. For the first time, Kayla got to be seen as her own person instead of Sean and Connor’s little sister but she would be lying if she said she didn’t miss her family. The last time she saw them was back in June when she took Bryce home to meet everyone. Well, almost everyone. No one should have to be subjected to the entire clan on the first meeting, no matter how confident and easy-going her boyfriend was.

It was worth it though. She’d wanted to be a doctor for as long as she could remember and working with Ethan Freaking Ramsey on the diagnostics team was a dream come true. Her career fed her constant thirst for knowledge and allowed her to help people so she didn’t mind not being there for every little thing her family deigned worthy of celebration. Christmas was different. Christmas in the Donovan house was a huge deal.

The house would be so full it was fit to burst, food, candy, and cookies as far as the eye could see. Her oldest brother Sean and his wife Meghan sniping and snarking at each other, everyone spoiling the hell out of her niece because she was the first child, seeing what new bimbo was Connor’s latest flavor of the week because he was too stupid and too much of a playboy to find a nice girl, Gran handing out shots of whiskey and hitting on any poor soul whose only mistake was dating or marrying one of the Donovan girls; she’d had a field day with Bryce. Her dad and uncles escaping to the garage or basement, betting on how long after dinner it would take her mom to throw in the towel and switch from wine to liquor; Kayla was going to miss it all.

But Boston provided joys of its own; a group of friends she considered family that included the most supportive boyfriend the world had ever seen. Working as much as they did with no way in hell of getting off on a holiday meant none of them would be going home but that didn’t mean they would spend Christmas alone. Luckily, their apartment was spacious enough to house everyone for the open house party she and her roommates planned, though Kayla wondered why hosting always fell to them. Ethan had an even better apartment and you didn’t see him inviting anyone over. Rude.

“And, voila!” Kayla exclaimed from her post at the kitchen island. The cheese tray she put together looked damn good if she said so herself. Cheese ball in the middle with alternating yellow and white cheeses surrounding it in a pinwheel pattern. Yep, damn good indeed. “Sienna, where do you want the cheese tray?”

“Umm…” Sienna didn’t look up, too preoccupied with arranging upside-down raspberries on top of the chocolate ganache cake she made. “The banquet table by the window maybe? There’s more room for people to mill around over there.”

Kayla looked around, finding only empty space near the windows. “Banquet table?”

Glancing up, Sienna shook her head and went back to the raspberries. “Bryce!”

“Yo!” he called out.

“Where’s that banquet table you said you’d set up?”

“Oh, shit,” he laughed before bringing the table in from the living room where he and Elijah had been fiddling with the tv for the last half hour. “Sorry, ladies.”

“What are you even doing in there?” Kayla asked as Bryce unfolded the legs and flipped the table right side up.

“Helping Elijah with the surround sound,” he answered simply, taking a folded red tablecloth from the kitchen table and spreading it over the one he just set up.

“Do you really need to be doing that right now?”

Shrugging in response, he sauntered over, gave Kayla a quick peck on the lips while squeezing her ass, then snatched a piece of cheese, popping it in his mouth before going back into the living room.

Minutes later the front door opened with a thump and Jackie’s voice rang out, “Oh, hell no. You two don’t get to do whatever it is you’re doing in here while we do all the work. It’s all hands on deck so get your asses up and help. And before you say it, no, Lahela, I don’t care that you don’t technically live here. God knows you’re here enough it’s like you do. You can start by putting these bags of ice on the balcony.”

Eyebrows raised, Kayla slowly turned to grin at Sienna, finding her covering her laugh with a hand plastered to her mouth. “Remind me to buy Jackie a pony for her birthday.”

“Or a bottle of tequila,” Sienna giggled.

Kayla picked up her glass of red wine, waiting for Sienna to do the same before clinking their glasses together. “Hear. Hear.”

An hour later, people were trickling in. The cold food was moved to the kitchen table and the hot to the banquet table because that’s where the outlets were, the bar was set up, holiday music was playing and Kayla was mingling in a fitted midnight blue dress that was both sexy and elegant.

“I’m loving this party even more than your last one, Donovan.” Zaid’s tone was as dry as ever, expression impassive as he bopped to the beat of ‘Jingle Bell Rock’. “You’ve outdone yourself.”

“Oh, thanks! It was a team effort.” A knock sounded at the door and Kayla excused herself before opening it with a smile.

“Rookie.”

“You came!” Kayla gasped, putting on an air of shock with her hand pressed to her chest. “I never thought I’d see the day!”

“This is for you.” Standing stiffly in the doorway, he thrust a bottle of red wine into her hands. “I know you like red.”

“I do, thanks, Ethan.” Considering how reluctant he looked, she grabbed him by the wrist and tugged him into the room. “Come on, no one’s gonna bite you. Can I get you anything to drink? Bryce is supposed to be playing bartender but he’s fallen in love with my tv.”

A brief look of confusion flashed across Ethan’s face before he shook his head, probably deciding he didn’t care enough to ask. “What do you have?”

Kayla shrugged. “Everything? I can make you a brandy old fashioned or cranberry mule. Those are our signature drinks.”

“Old Fashioneds are generally made with bourbon.”

“Not in the Midwest,” Kayla smirked. “It’s really big in Wisconsin.”

“You’re from Chicago…” Ethan shook his head again. “What’s a ‘cranberry mule’?”

“Bryce,” Kayla called out. “What’s in the cranberry mule?”

Bryce’s voice came from by the tv, only now he had the thing turned to the side. “Four ounces ginger beer, four ounces cranberry juice, two ounces rum and the juice of half a lime.” His head popped up, looking at her over the top. “Put that in a shaker then pour over ice and garnish with a slice of lime and some cranberries. Make sure you use a copper mug.”

“Ok, seriously, what are you doing over there?!”

“I’m almost done.” Grinning, Bryce shot her a wink and ducked back down.

Rolling her eyes, Kayla turned back to Ethan. “Don’t ask because I have no idea what he’s doing.”

“I wasn’t going to. I don’t care.”

“Nice,” she stated, raising her eyebrow and pressing her lips into the tiniest pout. “Well? Your drink, Dr. Ramsey?”

“I’ll take Scotch if you have it.”

“Uh… if we do it’s probably not very…” Kayla grimaced, leading Ethan to the bar across the room. “Oh, wait! I think Landry might have left some here.” Reaching her destination, Kayla ducked down and pulled a bottle from the lower shelf. “Ha!” she exclaimed as she stood up. “Score one for the jackass.”

“Babe! Kayla!” Bryce shouted out over the noise. He smiled when she looked over, then his gaze seemed to move past her and he gave a subtle nod. “Can you help me with something quick?”

“Be right there!” she replied as she splashed some Scotch in a glass. She handed it to Ethan and gave him a little push. “Go have fun. Socialize. Be normal.” Ignoring his look of disdain, she moved back into the living room. “What’s up?”

“I need you to sit on the couch,” Bryce instructed, turning the tv back the right way.

“Why?”

“Because I need to make sure the angle is right.”

“Angle for what?”

Bryce’s eyes widened, brows raised to give her a look that said, ‘just do it’.

“Fine.” The couch that had been filled with various guests all night was miraculously empty and Kayla sat down carefully so she didn’t flash everyone with the new lingerie Bryce had given her. That show was for his eyes only. “Are you finally going to tell me what you’ve been up to?”

“Stop asking questions,” Bryce laughed as the conversation around them grew quieter. “Elijah?” The music cut out and the lull in conversations spread through the apartment. “Ok, now push the input button on the tv remote.”

Brow furrowed, Kayla reached for the remote on the coffee table. Whatever he had planned, it seemed like most of the people in attendance were aware of it. If it turned out to be a slideshow of embarrassing photos from throughout the year or a video of her drunk ass singing karaoke, Bryce was a dead man. All eyes on her, Kayla pressed the button and the tv lit up. She screamed, both of her hands flying up to cover her mouth as tears sprang to her eyes. Before her, her family sat crowded together, enough of them they filled all seventy inches of the screen.

Her dad Sean leaned forward, squinting at the camera in front of him. “Is that it? Can she see us now?”

“Oh my god, Dad.” Squished against him, Kayla’s nineteen-year-old sister Brianna rolled her eyes. “Why do you think she’s screaming?”

“Shut up, you’re all ruining it!” Gran scolded from where she was wedged between Kayla’s dad and her brother Owen. “On the count of three… one… two… three…”

“Nollaig Shona, Kayla!” Everyone shouted as they smiled and waved, not exactly in sync but close enough.

“Nollaig Shona, everyone!” Kayla returned the sentiment, smiling and waving back. She looked around the room at her smiling friends and colleagues. “That’s Irish for ‘Merry Christmas’,” she explained. Her lip began to quiver and she looked at Bryce, waving him over as her eyes flooded with tears. “Get over here.” She felt her face crumple and pressed her palm over her lips as her boyfriend finally came over, looking uncharacteristically subdued. Sitting beside her, he slung his arm around her shoulders and she turned toward him, hugging him around his waist as she buried her face in the crook of his neck, trying to choke back her quiet sobs.

“Hey, everybody.” Bryce’s voice was tight as he gently rubbed her back. He cleared his throat and when he spoke again, she could hear the smile in his tone. “Merry Christmas. Thanks for helping me out with all of this.”

The comforting movement of his hand didn’t cease as he continued to chat with her family and when she was sure the tears had stopped flowing, Kayla peeled herself off him. “Well, my make-up is officially ruined,” she laughed, swiping at her cheeks. Sienna appeared out of nowhere and with tears in her eyes, thrust a wad of Kleenex into Kayla’s hands. “Thanks, Sienna.” Kayla did her best to clean the mascara from beneath her eyes then smiled, shaking her head in awe. “I just can’t believe you’re all in front of me right now.” Her eyes watered again.

“That man of yours is more than just a pretty face, Kayla,” her sister-in-law Meghan said.

“And what a face it is,” Gran added, giving the most exaggerated wink possible.

“Oh, don’t I know it, Gran,” Kayla agreed. “Great hair, too.”

“And a body to boot!” Gran slapped her hand on her skinny little knee. “Bet he’s a right stallion in the sack. You young ones get all the action these days.”

“Okay! Enough of that!” her big brother Sean shouted, clamping his hands over his four-year-old daughter’s ears while Kayla’s dad dropped his head in his hand mumbling something Kayla couldn’t make out. If she had to guess, it was ‘Lord in heaven’.

“Sorry, Sean,” Kayla laughed. Her eyes roamed the faces in front of her; her dad, grandma, her sister and two of her brothers, a few aunts, and uncles and some cousins. “Hey, where’s mom and Connor?” Of all her siblings she was closest to Connor, they were best friends on top of being brother and sister and her mom was her biggest cheerleader. No way would they not be a part of Bryce’s surprise.

“Oh, I imagine they’ll be coming in the door any minute now,” her dad said with a twinkle in his eye. “We’ll let you get back to your party, Punkin. Don’t forget to call us now.”

“I won’t, Dad,” Kayla promised. “It was great seeing you guys and I love you all so much!”

“We love you too, Kayla!” they all shouted back, waving again as they said goodbye.

“Now how the hell do I turn this damn thing off…” her dad grumbled, looking down at his remote before the connection ended.

As the music started and the party resumed, Kayla turned to Bryce, who was looking mighty proud of himself. She grabbed a fistful of his sweater and pulled him to her, planting a kiss on his lips. The doorbell rang and she pulled away. “Duty calls but later, you’re mine.”

“I mean, we can just kick everybody out now,” he teased, leaning in for another kiss. She laughed, giving him a swat on the shoulder but he snuck one anyway. “Get the door, babe. I’ll even come with you.”

“Ah, now that your ruse is over you’ll join the festivities?”

“Something like that.” Grabbing her hand, he pulled her to her feet. When they reached the door, he stopped her a few feet away with an arm around her waist then stepped forward to open it himself.

“Shut the fuck up!” Kayla shouted when she saw who was on the other side.

“Kayla Donovan!” her mom Erin scolded. “Such language!”

“And on Christmas too!” her brother Connor added in a mock scandalized voice with his eyes wide and a palm pressed to his forehead.

Her mom laughed, holding her arms out wide. “Surprise!”

The initial shock had worn off and Kayla launched herself into her mother’s arms. “I can’t believe you’re here!” She held tight for a moment, then turned to Connor.

“Brat,” he greeted.

“Jerk.”

Laughing, he grabbed Kayla around the waist and lifted her off her feet, bouncing a few times before setting her back down. “Damn, it’s good to see you, Kay. Bryce,” Connor nodded as Bryce turned away from the warm hug her mom had given him and held out his hand, doing that weird handshake-shoulder clapping thing guys did. “Good to see you again, too. Thanks for inviting us.”

“Let’s get you guys a drink. There’s a ton of people you have to meet.”

Heart full and cheeks sore from smiling, Kayla paraded her mom and brother around the room, introducing them to all of the people who had become so important to her. When Sienna eventually dragged them to the kitchen to eat, Kayla turned to Bryce, smiling up at him as she looped her arms around his neck. “You.”

“Me.” His warm hands slid around her hips, pulling her tighter until they were pressed against his.

“You’re the best boyfriend in the entire world.”

“I know.” An easy smile spread across his cheeks. “Handsome, too.”

“And the smartest, most thoughtful,” Her words were punctuated by quick kisses. “most supportive, sweetest, the best lover, the…”

“Stop, you’re gonna make me blush,” he laughed, then raised his eyebrow as his lips settled into a cocky smirk. “You’re not wrong, though. I am pretty amazing.”

“And so humble,” she laughed with him. Gazing into his eyes, she knew she was exactly where she was supposed to be. Bryce was home, no matter where it was. “Seriously, Bryce, this was… I can’t believe you did all this.”

“I almost didn’t think I would pull it off,” he admitted. “The Portal thing was supposed to be here weeks ago but it got lost somewhere in Ohio and just came today. Then your dad couldn’t get his to work and threatened to throw the thing in the lake, and now today your mom and Connor’s flight was delayed by like four hours. I’m surprised I survived.”

As he spoke, Kayla’s smile grew wider and when he finally stopped talking, she pulled him down to press a slow kiss to his lips. She pulled back, just enough to lock her eyes with his. “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby. Merry Christmas.”

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Image 18th!century Jamie saw Claire dancing rockabilly / lindy hop? With all the swirling and jumping? I'd love to see his reaction. Bonus if she's dancing with Joe.

We Live For Love

--

Jamie framed Claire’s face between his hands, drawingtheir foreheads together. Together they inhaled, then exhaled, ears roaringwith the crowd.

 “You ready?” he whispered against her lips.

 She pulled back. Smiled. The necklace with three goldcharms – the letters J, F, and B, for him and their two daughters – sparkled inthe stage lights.

 “Let’s do this.”

 He returned the smile, bent for a quick kiss, then strodeonstage, guitar slung over his back.

 She didn’t think the crowd could have been louder, butsomehow it now was.

 Claire enjoyed what she had so dearly missed watching himdo, these past few years away from the road. For he always took such care tomake sure that everything was just perfect – the lighting, the microphones, themarks where they would stand.

 They’d run through it all at the sound check thatafternoon, of course. But Jamie knew that something would always get a littleout of sync – and tonight of all nights, they couldn’t afford that.

 Fortunately this check was just a cursory one – because beforeshe knew it, Jamie plugged in his guitar and began strumming the intro.

 Confidently she strode onstage. Suddenly glad of the new earmonitors Joe had insisted she and Jamie have custom made for this tour. Forabove the screams of the crowd she could just barely hear Jamie’s guitar. Andshe counted the bars of his intro, smiling into the hot lights, heart racingwith nervousness and joy.

 Never again, isn't that what yousaid?You've been through this beforeAnd you swore this time you'd think with your head

 It was their first time playing this new acoustic arrangement live –just her and Jamie’s guitar, without the band and its bass and keyboards anddrums. She was afraid that somehow the song would sound naked, thin,incomplete.

No one, would ever have you againAnd if taking was gonna get doneYou'd decide where and when

 Jamie, of course, had convinced her that certainly her fears wereunfounded. That the simple acoustic guitar was exactly what her voice needed toshine. The perfect metaphor for who she was now – how far she’d come – and justexactly what this tour represented.

Just when you think you got it downYour heart securely tied and boundThey whisper, promises in the dark

Jamie’s strumming became a bit more frantic, in time withthe melodic shift in the song. The crowd screamed in delight. Claire met Jamie’seyes, and knew that it would be all right.

 She needed that reassurance with the next song. For anacoustic version of Promises in the Darkwas just her warm-up; only she and Jamie knew what was in store for the rest ofthe night.

 “Wow!” she exclaimed after finishing the song with a flourishof Jamie’s guitar. “Wow!”

 The crowd chanted her name. Claire knew she was alreadysweating under the heavy lights – but she didn’t care.

 “I can’t tell you how thrilled I am – how thrilled we are – to be with you tonight.”Quickly she bent to sip from the bottle of water perched on a stool a few pacesbehind the amps. “As you know, this is our first gig in just about six years. Iwas afraid you guys would have forgotten about me by now.”

 “No!” “Never!” the crowd replied.

 Claire laughed. “I know, I know. Jamie and I – wait, doyou know this is my husband?”

 The crowd laughed; Jamie shook his head, playing it up.

 “Well – we’ve been through a lot these past six years.Spent a lot of time at home, just enjoying being Mommy and Daddy to our twolittle girls. And we’ve been singing and recording – but just for them. And we’veloved it. But we missed being out here with you.”

 She swallowed. “We were afraid you wouldn’t want to hearfrom us anymore. But I guess we were wrong.”

 “Yeahhhh!” the crowd cheered.

 “Well – so we decided this time around, we’d mix it up abit. Just Jamie and me – we’re giving the rest of the band a break. And we’dsing for you some songs you know, just that they sound a bit different. Andthen we’d sing some new songs for you, too – after all, we do have a new record out.”

 “I hope you’ve bought it,” Jamie laughed. “We gotta putthe girls through college.”

 “Anyway,”Claire rolled her eyes. “For these next few songs, we’re going to do somethingwe’ve never done before. See – this man right here, my husband – you may notknow this, but he helped me find my voice.”

 “I wasn’t aware it had been lost, baby,” he teased.

 She turned to face him on the stage. “Back when I wasstill Claire Beauchamp, singing show tunes in jazz bars – he helped me find avoice that wouldn’t get lost with his electric guitar. There would be no ClaireFraser without Jamie Fraser.”

 The crowd sighed and cheered.

 “We’ve given the gift of music to our little girls. Andthis next song is something we sing to them every night. Our two-year-old lovesit – she thinks we wrote it for her – but please don’t tell her we didn’t!”

 The crowd laughed. She nodded at Jamie, and he beganplucking a very familiar introduction. She closed her eyes – pictured Bree andFaith’s joyous faces when they had music time – and began singing.

 She's got a smileit seems to meReminds me of childhood memoriesWhere everythingWas as fresh as the bright blue sky

 Now and then when Isee her faceShe takes me away to that special placeAnd if I'd stare too longI'd probably break down and cry

 Jamie’s baritone voice joined hers for the chorus. Tohear their voices together, amplified, sent chills down her spine.

 Oh, oh, ohSweet child o' mineOh, oh, oh, ohSweet love of mine

 She opened her eyes to watch what happened next. For shestood away from the microphone – and for the first time in their public career,Jamie Fraser sang on his own.

 She's got eyes ofthe bluest skiesAs if they thought of rainI hate to look into those eyesAnd see an ounce of pain

 His voice was so beautiful. For so long she’d wanted himto share it with the world – but for so long he had resisted, insisting (correctly)that the focus should be on her, not him. That she was the star – not him, eventhough they had been equal partners from day one.

 But now, on this tour that naysayers in the press saidwas a comeback and fans said was just about time – now, they played by theirown rules. Dictated absolutely everything. And when Claire insisted theytransform the performances into duets – Jamie couldn’t refuse.

Her hair reminds me of a warm safe placeWhere as a child I'd hideAnd pray for the thunderAnd the rainTo quietly pass me by

 He sang directly to her. Knowing that she couldn’t helpbut think of how he loved burying his face in her neck, sheltered in the cloudof her hair. How he would cling to her in sleep; how they would burrow undertheir quilt, skin-on-skin, lips and limbs tangled for hours and hours in thedark.

 Oh, oh, ohSweet child o' mine

 Her voice rejoined his.

Oh, oh, oh, ohSweet love of mine

 The intensity in his eyes stirred something deep in her.How the hell was she supposed to get through the next ninety or so minutes,when one glance made her want to drag him offstage and lock the door to their dressingroom?

 He electrified her – and she him.

 Next up in their set was back-to-back Bob Dylan covers.

 “It may not surprise you that we idolize June Carter andJohnny Cash,” Jamie explained, tuning his guitar before the next song. “Theyfirst started singing this song together back in the 60s. And most people don’teven know Dylan wrote it – like Jimi Hendrix and ‘All Along the Watchtower.’”

 “It’s better with the harmonica,” Claire interjected. “Butnot today. Maybe next time.”

 Jamie rolled his eyes – and launched into the intro. Thistime he began the song.

 Go 'way from mywindowLeave at your own chosen speedI'm not the one you want, babeI'm not the one you need

 Following in the hallowed steps of June Carter, Claire’svoice joined in. Yet again they sang in perfect harmony.

You say you're lookin' for someoneNever weak but always strongTo protect you an' defend youWhether you are right or wrongSomeone to open each and every door

 It was the perfect metaphor, really – for that’s whatClaire and Jamie had been looking for – and found – in each other, thosefateful days in New York when they were recording their first album. Theirvoices raised for the chorus –

But it ain't me, babeNo, no, no, it ain't me, babeIt ain't me you're lookin' for, babe

 After this song the lights went down a bit – and aspotlight hit Jamie.

 “I know this one’s a bit more folk-y then you all may beused to. But it shows off Claire’s voice in a very different way. She says shelikes to hear my voice at home – well, I feel the same way about her. Andbelieve it or not, she doesn’t sing rock and roll every day. She sings as shedoes things around the house. And I caught her humming this one a few monthsback, and bugged her enough that she agreed to share it with all of you.”

 “Well, Dylan started off in New York clubs, too,” Clairereasoned. “If he can do it, I can do it. And Jamie wrote this particulararrangement – we haven’t heard anyone do the song like this. So it’s a risk.”

 “Well, when have we shied away from risks, Claire?”

 “Never, Jamie,” she laughed. “Now start playing, beforeeveryone gets up and leaves. All right?”

 Claire turned to face the audience. Jamie played a shortintro – and they sang together.

 Oh, where have youbeen, my blue-eyed son?Oh, where have you been, my darling young one?I've stumbled on the side of twelve misty mountainsI've walked and I've crawled on six crooked highwaysI've stepped in the middle of seven sad forestsI've been out in front of a dozen dead oceansI've been ten thousand miles in the mouth of a graveyard

 It was a bit more poetic then the lyrics she typically sang– but the hush that came over the audience during the song was positivelyspellbinding.

And it's a hard, and it's a hard, it's ahard, and it's a hardAnd it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall

 So it continued – song after song after song.

 Some familiar favorites re-imagined – songs from herprevious albums, cover songs from the 60s to today. Interspersed with songsfrom the new album, including We BelongTogether, which everyone said would hit Number One within a matter of days –and then a few brand-new songs, written exclusively for this tour.

 When Joe Abernathy – their friend and mentor – had askedwhat they wanted to call this tour, WeBelong Together naturally came to mind. But Claire – and Jamie – had adifferent message to send.

 So after Jamie strummed the final notes of the secondencore song, and gripped Claire’s hand, and they took a bow – Claire spoke intothe microphone for one last time.

 “Thank you, from the bottom of my heart – and Jamie’sheart – for your enthusiasm. We took a big risk doing this, but we know nowthat the Our Voices tour will be thebest we’ve ever done.”

 Jamie kissed her sweaty cheek.

 “Good night!” they shouted into her microphone, then ranoff stage, holding hands.

 In the wings, Jamie handed his guitar to Fergus – normallytheir bassist, now playing the role of guitar tech for the tour – and pulledClaire away from the screams of the crowd. Within seconds they arrived at theirshared dressing room, and he shut – and locked – the door behind them just intime for Claire’s hungry mouth to find his.

 They were both shaking, he realized – from adrenaline,and exhaustion, and pure unadulterated need for each other.

 “You were so, so good, baby,” he whispered against hermouth, peppering her sweaty face with kisses.

 “Mmm.” She bit his lower lip. “I love singing with you. It– it just does something to me, Jamie– ”

 He cut her off with another deep kiss, picking her up andsetting her on the makeup table. He stepped between her legs, and she wrappedher calves around his hips.

 Five quick knocks at the door tore Jamie’s mouth fromhers. Because it could be only one thing –

 Claire jumped down from the table, opened the door, and staggeredas two giggling daughters grabbed hold of her legs.

[cancerousjojian]

can’t sleep | scott lang

anonymous: Heyy❣️ i really loved your headcanon with scott i was wondering could you write an imagine with scott where you guys go on a mission and you are pretending to be a married couple for the sake of the mission and reveal that you actually have feelings for each other?? Idk sorry if this is stupid and confusing lol💖💖 love your work

pairing: scott lang x reader

words: 1.5k

a/n: ughhh i love scott lang so much and i love writing for him. keep your scott requests comin’!

It was a quarter past midnight when you and Scott finally got back to your shared hotel room. The dinner party you were forced to attend went well, you found out a lot of crucial information about your enemies. Dr. Pym would discuss your findings with you early tomorrow morning and come up with a plan of attack. You were excited to go to bed feeling accomplished. You could rest easy.

The meantime was yours and Scott’s to debrief. You stood in front of the hotel room door and swiped the cheap plastic card to unlock it, the overwhelming smell of clean sheets smacking you in the face when you walked in. The black heels you were obligated to wear to the formal event were absolutely killing you, and you almost immediately kicked them off as soon as you stepped foot in the room.

Scott groaned and dramatically belly flopped on the hotel’s firm bed. You were more interested in getting out of your uncomfortable cocktail dress, grabbing your overnight clothes.

“Babe?” Scott said, and you blushed at the affectionate nickname.

“We can drop the couple names now.” You scoffed at him. The mission called for you and Scott to pretend to be married, which you thought would be extremely difficult but proved to be surprisingly easy. The circumstances that led to the conclusion that you must pass as a believable married couple were odd and unclear, but you and Scott were willing to work together in any capacity to beat this villain.

“Oh, yeah,” he remarked and turned around so he was laying on his back. He stretched his arms out and hooked his fingers behind his head. “Sorry about that. I don’t know about you, but I think we make a damn good couple.” He flashed you the widest closed-mouthed grin you’ve ever seen on him.

“Is this your awful attemp at flirting with me?” You half-joked. You snaked your arm out of the strap of the dress, getting ready to slip out of it into much more comfortable clothes. You waited for Scott to look away, but much to your frustration, his eyes were glued to yours. “Turn around,” You smiled sheepishly. Scott furrowed his eyebrows and looked away at your request. “You really think they bought it? The whole couple thing?” Your cherry red dress found itself on the floor in a matter of milliseconds. The hotel room was freezing, and you were dying to get into some warm clothes and under the covers.

“Definitely.” You didn’t see his face when he spoke but you could hear the sureness in his voice.

“Okay, I’m dressed.” Scott turned around to face you again. He was still wearing his suit, but you were so tired you couldn’t stop yourself from laying down in bed next to him. You silently thanked Pym for accidentally booking a room with only one bed. You knew you had feelings for Scott for a while, but putting yourself in the mindset of his wife for the mission made you absolutely certain. It was something about the way his hand rested so comfortably on your waist and the affection that coated his words when he spoke about you. “Have you met my wife Y/N?” He’d ask to fellow dinner attendees. The words sounded so satisfying coming from him. You just doubted he felt even an ounce of the same way about you, so you repressed your feelings.

You kicked the blankets out and huddled underneath them. Scott still laid on top of them with his suit on. “Are you going to sleep in that suit?” Your rhetorical question earned a laugh from him.

“Maybe I will. I look good in it, right?”

“You do.” You smiled, and your words were honest. Though, you thought it wasn’t hard for just about anyone to look good in a suit. Scott was no exception. He took a moment to quietly thank you.

“Is this your awful attempt at flirting with me?” He mocked you.

“Ha-ha.” A fake laugh was all he earned from you.

He got off the bed then and changed into pajamas. You pulled the blankets up over your eyes while he did so. After he was dressed, he returned back to bed next you. A yawn escaped from the back of your throat, and you decided to call it a night. You reached over to the lamp and switched it off. “Goodnight, husband.” You joked and turned your back to him.

You had no idea how much time had passed before you heard Scott’s voice again, bringing you from your sleeping state. “Y/N? Are you awake?” He whispered as you felt his side of the bed lift from his body weight. Before turning onto your other side, you caught a glimpse of the alarm clock on the dresser and read the time; 1 am.

“Yeah, what’s wrong?” You spoke into the darkness, barely being able to see his face let alone read his expression.

“N-Nothing. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have waken you up. I couldn’t sleep.”

You sat up on your elbows and reached over to turn the lamp on. When the light hit his face, you could tell he didn’t get much sleep. “Oh, okay,” you said, sitting up and resting your body weight against the headboard. It creaked as you leaned on it. “Something on your mind?”

He cleared his throat as he mimicked your sitting position. “Well, there’s one thing.” His voices became quieter as he finished his sentence. He seemed frightened, his breath was shaky with anxiety. Your heart was beating a million miles a minute. You couldn’t help but conjure up worst case scenarios in your mind before Scott even had a chance to explain himself.

“What is it? You can tell me anything, you know.” You caught a glimpse of his tired eyes and rested your hand on his shoulder, a comforting gesture. His skin was hot under your touch. You felt his muscles flex under your fingertips.

He hesitated before speaking. “It’s nothing. Forget I even said anything. I’m sorry.” His hand came up to his face as he pinched the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes in exasperation. He turned over to go back to sleep.

You didn’t want to pry, but you also were dying to know what could have been eating at Scott’s consciousness so much that he felt the need to wake you up at one in the morning. “Scott, just tell me.” You laughed with a hint of frustration in your voice.

He knew he could trust you, but he couldn’t help but feel hesitance to speak about his feelings. He offered a long sigh before his admission. “I couldn’t sleep because I couldn’t stop thinking about our mission.”

You let out a breath of relief. “Scott, everything is under control. The mission is going great! You have nothing to worry about.” You told him with an honest smile of assurance.

“No, not that. I meant the part of our mission where we’re a married couple. The part of our mission where you’re all I can think about and I can’t take my eyes off you. The part where I can’t hide my feelings anymore.” He was looking directly into your eyes now with an intensity you’ve never felt before.

“Scott, what are you say—“

“I’m saying I really really like you. Maybe even more than like. Today made me realize that I have feelings for you. I mean, those feelings were always there but today they were just... so present.”

You needed a minute to digest and think about his words. You felt an overwhelming feeling of gladness and joy, but also a good amount of confusion that left you speechless.

“All the times today when I bragged about how beautiful my wife was and how much I loved her, it was true. I didn’t have to pretend.”

“And to think I thought you were just a really good actor.” You said more to yourself than him.

He was puzzled. “What?”

“Oh, nothing. Look, Scott, I feel the same way. You have no idea.” You smiled, leaning in a significant amount closer to him.

“Really?” The question sounded so hopeful and surprised that you felt a pang of sadness in your gut that he would think that you wouldn’t feel the same. Without thinking, you closed the gap between your lips. The kiss was unlike any of the handfuls of kisses you’ve felt in your other relationships. It took a mere second before Scott was reciprocating the kiss. His hand found your hip a moment after, the sheets the only thing stopping his fingers from touching your skin.

He groaned in displeasure when you found yourself pulling away. “Yes,” you smiled wide. “And that should prove it.”

“Wow, okay.” Scott’s voice was so quiet you almost didn’t hear him. “Um, after this whole superhero mission thing, I’d love to take you out on a proper date, if you’ll have me.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing at the situation. “That’d be great, Scott. But in the meantime, we should get some sleep for the superhero mission thing. It is one in the morning, after all .”

He shook his head in laughter and you leaned over to shut the lights off yet again. You found it easy to fall asleep knowing that everything would be different in the morning, and Scott found it easy falling asleep next to you, the ghost of your lips still lingering on his and his heart swollen with fondness for you.