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milkybonya · 4 years ago

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cheer up, buttercup!

order #001: large banana milk tea with pudding and grass jelly for Cha Eunwoo, requested by my lovely @daybreakx !

-> enemies to lovers! & college!Cha Eunwoo x (gn) reader

-> warnings: some angst and food mentions! also drinking/alcohol mentions and everyone is really mean to the reader >:0

-> where Eunwoo is the president of your department and you're the vice president. you work your hardest but always end up second to him.

[a/n]: i'm sorry for the CHAOS that this is and i feel like there is minimal (?) fluff but i hope you enjoYY THIS WAS FUN

You and Eunwoo had major beef. There wasn't even an event that started it all, but Eunwoo treated you with such disrespect from the start. And of course, anyone who disrespected you was on your list of... well, the closest thing to a list of enemies.

The first time you met him was in freshman year at the orientation before classes began. There was a basketball game going on and Eunwoo was playing. You watched from the sidelines in the shade, cheering him on at first because he was playing on behalf of your department.

Then, the ball flew in your direction. Eunwoo had tried to get the ball back for his team, but ended up accidentally throwing it towards you.

Luckily, it fell somewhere to your left, but it gave you such a fright that you stood up and started panting.

A few of the people who were playing rushed over to make sure you were okay, but Eunwoo didn't even throw a look your way.

"You, from our department? Just throw the ball back!" was all he said to you.

It made your blood boil.

Eunwoo was known for being a little blunt anyway, but he definitely went out of his way to grind your gears.

"Where is the president?" the social convenor asked.

You sighed, checking the time and noticing that Eunwoo was fifteen minutes late.

"If I knew where he was... If only I knew," you mumbled.

"Why is Eunwoo even the president, anyway?" another member of the student council asked.

"Because he's hot and cool and everyone likes him!" a girl squealed. You couldn't even remember what her position in the student council was, but judging by her comment, you realized that she must be here just for Eunwoo.

"He's absolutely dumb, does nothing all day yet somehow gets A's! Of course, why wouldn't he be the president?" your tone was dripping with sarcasm and your anger was almost about to overflow.

Until that man walked into the meeting room, at last.

"I'm dumb and do nothing all day? Why, thank you. I'm here, now," Eunwoo declared, strolling towards his seat. He had his black leather jacket slung over a shoulder.

God, I hate my life, you thought to yourself.

"That's what [y/n], said, but I don't think that way!" the girl who squealed earlier spoke.

"Thanks, Stacy."

Eunwoo only flashed her a quick smile before he sat back in his seat.

"So, what are we doing?"

"What do you mean, 'what are we doing'? We have an open house tomorrow and tons of high school students will be checking on our department! You're the president, you were supposed to-"

Eunwoo hushes you by raising up his hand from where it was resting on his thigh.

"It's all good, I've got it sorted."

He slammed down a notebook onto the table.

"I've taken notes on how open houses have been previously organized and have put them all in this book. I highlighted the events that seemed like they had a lot of potential, so look through those and decide on something, alright? I'll be off," Eunwoo explained, standing up.

"Where are you going?" you almost spat out at Eunwoo. He walks in here, makes a fool out of you and then decides to leave?

"To go 'be dumb and do nothing all day'. Isn't that what you said I do?"

He glared at you slightly before leaving the room.

"[y/n], you made Nunu so angry! Nunu, don't be mad, come back!" Stacy screamed, chasing after him.

You sighed, running your fingers through your hair.

"This idiot really thought I wouldn't know about the past open houses..."

You slam down the notebook that you had also brought.

"Damn... so he really just provided us some useless info and left?" the social convenor asks, shaking their head.

"Yeah, pretty much," you say.

So how did you and Eunwoo end up as vice president and president, anyway? Well, these positions were given to the students with the highest grades. Eunwoo had the highest, so he was given the title of president. You were trailing close behind, and were given the title of vice president.

You always told yourself that you should have been the president, and rightfully so! Eunwoo never did anything but play games on his phone, anyway.

When the open house event finally rolled around, you and Eunwoo were supposed to give a speech in a lecture hall to get the day started. It was mostly to welcome the high school students and lift the spirits of everyone there, not too big of a deal!

But still, big enough of a deal that Eunwoo should have shown up.

He didn't. And you were anything but surprised.

Forced to deliver your speech and somehow improvise along the way to make up for Eunwoo's missing presence, you were shocked to find that the audience started clapping right as you finished. It felt as though your hard work had paid off, and you stepped back, smiling at everyone in the crowd.

Until Eunwoo walked up to the mic, flashing a smile of his own and greeting everyone.

Yep, they had all been clapping for him, not for you.

Eunwoo turned and looked at you, mouthing, "did you prepare my script?"

"You were supposed to do that! Do I look like your secretary?"

Eunwoo scowled at you and turned to everyone who was seated. He ended up repeating a bunch of the same things that you had said and received an enthusiastic applause. You sighed from behind the curtains, wondering why Eunwoo always got the credit for all your hard work. It was probably his looks, but still.

Throughout the day, you walked around campus and ensured that everything was running smoothly. Eunwoo was supposed to be doing the same, you hoped, and you asked him this when you ran into him outside of the campus student centre.

"Have you been walking around like you were supposed to?"

"I'll deal with my business on my own," he said, almost scoffing at you. He was standing there scrolling through his phone.

"This isn't 'your business'? We're literally supposed to be working together!"

"Stop nagging me, [y/n]. I don't like it when you do that," he grumbled.

"Yeah, well I don't like you!" you yelled, storming away from him. You felt... very embarrassed. What kind of comeback was that? It sounded like something a child would say... oh, well.

You saw your friend handing out some goodies at a table outside and approached them.

"How's it going, vice president?" they asked you, handing you a snack.

"Terrible," you groaned, opening it and eating some.

"Why, what's up?"

"Cha Eunwoo is being a pain in the butt, as always," you sighed.

"You might want to watch what you say," your friend mumbled, pointing behind you.

You turned around a little too late as the snack in your hands was whisked away by Cha Eunwoo himself.

"You're the only pain in the butt here, [y/n]," he said, eating your snacks.

"What are you doing here?! You should be on the other side of campus!" you yelled.

"And you shouldn't be here, either," Eunwoo said with a glare.

"Can y'all go argue somewhere else? You're scaring the highschoolers away," your friend complained, nodding in the direction of some highschoolers who were hesitant to approach the snack stand because you and Eunwoo were arguing.

"Go attend to your duties, [y/n]," Eunwoo huffed, walking away from you.

You angrily stomped the ground, walking away and feeling a little embarrassed because you could feel the high schoolers watching you.

"[y/n], why won't you learn from Eunwoo a bit? I understand that he's the president and you're only the vice, but you could have at least prepared what we needed you to prepare!" the director of your department told you, shaking her head at you.

You tried to contain yourself and looked down as you rolled your eyes. The only reason Eunwoo was more prepared than you were today was because he had stolen what you prepared and claimed it was his instead.

"I understand, I'm sorry."

"You're at risk of getting your position taken away, [y/n]! This is a warning."

After leaving the director's office, you were met wih a grinning Eunwoo who was sat on the couches in the lobby.

"What are you looking at?" you asked him.

"Thanks for these papers, [y/n]," he said, holding up your hard work.

"I didn't even give them to you. You took them from me, but okay," you said, leaving him there.

You walked to a coffee shop that was on the same floor to get something to refresh yourself. Since it was so early in the morning on a weekend, the building was fairly quiet and empty. It wasn't hard to overhear a conversation.

"Eunwoo, I think [y/n] has not been taking their vice president duties seriously these days. Do you think we should find someone else?"

The director's voice.

"Do the other members of student council agree?"

Eunwoo's voice.

"I haven't spoken to them-"

"Then [y/n] remains as vice. I haven't seen any sort of slacking or a lack of seriousness from them, and I don't think anyone else is fit for the role."

Did Eunwoo just... compliment and defend you?

You turned around with your drink in hand to find that it was indeed Eunwoo talking with your director. Then, you quickly scurried away to avoid being seen by them, feeling very confused.

"Cheers!" everyone shouted around the table, clinking their glasses together before downing their contents. After a successful open house, everyone had gathered at a bar to celebrate. You squirmed in your spot beside Eunwoo, feeling uncomfortable. He rolled his eyes at you and shifted even closer to you, leaving you with less room to sit than before.

"Is that better?" he asked, smirking at you.

You frowned, pressing your foot on top of his clearly new shoes.

"Is that better?" you asked him.

"Why are you guys so close? Are you about to kiss or something?" one of the student council members asked.

"No! Ew-"

"And what if we did?" Eunwoo asked, glaring at the member.

What the hell?

The member looked down at their drink, unsure of what to say. The atmosphere grew awkwardly quiet until someone asked if everyone wanted more drinks, to which there were murmurs of agreement.

"Hey, [y/n], I overheard the director talking with you in her office today. Did she really threaten to kick you out as vice president?" the student council member next to you asked.

You laughed awkwardly, already feeling uncomfortable.

"Yeah... I'm working hard, though! So I'm sure it won't happen."

"Are you sure? You weren't able to prepare what the director asked you to, and there's been countless times where Eunwoo has always had to do things for you..."

You were in such shock. Everyone in student council knew that Eunwoo just acted like he was on top of everything, meanwhile you were doing all the work. Even for his grades, he never studied but was at the top because of all the people who handed him study notes and past tests to get his attention. You worked so hard...

"... I get that you're the vice president, but shouldn't you be trying a little harder? Hey... [y/n]? Are you crying?"

You couldn't help it... it had all been building up until now. You didn't even realize you were crying, though, until this guy pointed it out to you. His hand on your shoulder felt like it was suffocating you...

"What the hell have you been on about, you idiot?" Eunwoo growled from your right. You turned to him and he was glaring at the boy who had been talking to you.

"I-"

"Don't even talk. There's nothing but garbage coming out of your mouth. Come on, [y/n], let's go," Eunwoo said, grabbing your hand and guiding you out of there.

You were extremely confused, but more than anything, you were just sad. So you didn't stop Eunwoo when he led you outside of the bar.

"Is everything okay? Take some deep breaths." Eunwoo was staring right into your eyes as he spoke to you, reaching out his thumb to gently wipe your tears away.

"What's... going on?"

"That idiot was saying some useless garbage so I brought you out here. I can leave if you want to be alone-"

"No! No, please don't go," you begged, holding on tightly to his sleeve. You couldn't help it, you completely broke down and found yourself sobbing into his chest. What was weirder was that Eunwoo had his arms wrapped around you and was rubbing your back...

After you calmed done, Eunwoo insisted that he walk you back to your dorm.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" you asked him, sniffling quietly.

He threw his hands in his pockets and stared at the ground.

"I don't like it when people are mean to you, [y/n]," he said quietly.

"But you're mean to me all the time!" you pointed out.

"You're the one who started being mean to me!" Eunwoo whined.

You stopped walking.

"I started being mean to you? Eunwoo, you know you're the one who threw a basketball at me that day and never apologized, right?"

Eunwoo stared at the dark sky for a moment as he tried to remember what you were talking about. Then his eyes widened and he looked at you.

"Oh... I swear, there's an explanation-"

"There better be!"

"This is going to sound dumb but... I felt too shy to look at you... which is why I avoided you like that."

What? Eunwoo, the most cocky and arrogant president you know, was shy?

"Why in the world were you shy, Eunwoo?"

It wasn't just the slight breeze in the air that was turning his cheeks red, now. He was about to tell you something important.

"Ever since the first day at the orientation week... I thought you were really... attractive. And then, learning about you through all the icebreakers just made things worse. I don't really know how to handle my feelings, so maybe that's why I came across as so rude."

There was silence as you processed everything and starting walking to your dorm again.

"Eunwoo... if you had just cleared this all up a little sooner, we wouldn't have been like cats and dogs," you said, laughing nervously and touching the back of your neck.

"I know, I'm sorry."

"Do you still... like me?" you asked him quietly.

Eunwoo paused before answering. "I don't think I could ever just stop liking you."

Both of you giggled at his cheesy words. You felt like you were on another planet. The boy you'd hated so much turned out to have a crush on you?

"You don't need to tell me how you feel anytime soon. I know there's been a lot of misunderstandings... so let's just clear those up first?" Eunwoo cocked his head to one side.

"If you get to my dorm faster than me, I'll consider it!" you yelled before running in the direction of your residence building.

"I don't even know where you live!" Eunwoo yelled after you, following you along.

"What kind of president are you? You don't even know where your vice president lives?" you yelled back, sticking your tongue out at him.

Suddenly, Eunwoo caught up to you and started racing ahead. Of course he knew where you lived. He liked you.

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justanotherblonde23 · 4 years ago

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An Unexpected Surprise - A Marcus Moreno Story

Author’s Note: So with some encouraging from my friends, I decided to post my writing! I know that technically we don’t know anything about Marcus Moreno, but that superhero dad has been taking up space in my mind rent free all week. I tagged people that I know wanted to read this and a few that I thought might enjoy it. Please let me know what you think! -Kat

Content Warnings: smut, oral (female receiving), P in V

Tags: @autumnleaves1991-blog @dindjarindiaries @frannyzooey @zeldasayer @hdlynnslibrary @jollyrancher87 @bisexual-space-slut @woakiees @scribbledghost @softpedropascal @catfishingmorales

Marcus trudged into the house, it was at least 2 in the morning, and he was absolutely exhausted. He was always exhausted these days; his age was catching up to him. He may be a part of the Heroics, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t getting older. He was balancing heroism, kids, a spouse, and trying to give them some semblance of a normal life. He was ready to retire, be involved in every aspect of the kids’ lives, and see his wife in more than just the middle of the night and before leaving for work. He had given enough of his life to the service of the world; now, it was about time to provide all of himself to his family. Missy, his eldest, was already 11 and getting older every single day. Jules, the baby of the family, was about to turn 5, just about to leave the toddler years behind her. He felt as if he had missed so much of their lives; he didn’t want to miss anymore.

Most of the house lights had been turned off, signaling that most of the inhabitants were fast asleep. He hoped that at least he could get a kiss or two from the woman he loved. Maybe she would still be awake. He made his way up the stairs, checking the kids’ rooms. He planted soft kisses on their foreheads, smiling at their serene expressions. What beautiful little girls he had, he was the luckiest father in the world.

He frowned, opening the door to the master bedroom; the soft glow of artificial light bathed the room in a yellow haze. There she was, his love, sitting in the middle of the bed, clearly wide awake, wearing her glasses and frowning at the hologram in front of her. Someone was working even later than Marcus himself. He took in her form; she still hadn’t noticed him quite yet. She was wearing a silky nightie that hit her upper thigh and a matching robe loosely tied around her. His cock stirred in his pants. Even as spent as he was from the day, the view in front of him made him want to take her to bed and fuck her senseless.

“Dr. Moreno, hard at work, I see,” he teased.

Her eyes shot up, smirking at him. I��m not quite Dr. Moreno yet, Marcus. You’d have to marry me first,” she teased.

“We had a ceremony-” he started.

“And someone still hasn’t mailed the marriage certificate, even though it’s been two months. All you gotta do is bring it to the post office, baby. I’d do it myself, but somebody insisted that he’d be the one to do it.”

Marcus groaned, falling onto the bed beside his wife (that’s what she was to him, even if he didn’t mail the marriage certificate yet). He heard some shuffling and a command for her AI system to file the holograms working on for the night. He’d lived with her for four years now, and he still hadn’t gotten used to all her tech. If he was a hero in name, she was the genius behind every piece of technology in his arsenal, as well as all of the other members of the Heroics. Her superpower was her mind, that gorgeous, intricate, genius mind of hers. Her ability to retain information, learn, critically think, and create was almost impossible to fathom truly. At 33, she had twelve doctorates in various fields, including engineering, physics, nanotechnology, and art history. Her thirst for knowledge and eagerness to invent was unparalleled, even among other enhanced individuals. He would never stop singing her praises; she was a wonder.

“Marcus, baby, do you wanna shower and go to bed? It’s late.”

He sighed, starting to relax into the feeling of her fingers carding through his hair. “Baby, if you keep that up, I’m gonna fall asleep right here and now. I took a shower at HQ before I left, so I’m good.” He opened his eyes when her fingers stilled, looking up at the beautiful woman with the soft smile leaning over him.

“Do you think you can stay up for a little bit longer, honey? I have a surprise for you.”

He sat up, scooting up against the headboard, kicking off his shoes. He felt wide awake now. His wife wasn’t typically one for surprises on any old day. He wracked his mind, trying to make sure that he hadn’t missed her birthday, their dating anniversary, or any other consequential, momentous occasion.

“I didn’t forget a special day, did I? Fuck, amor. I’m so sorry if I did. I’ve been spread so damn thin since the wedding; I’ve been running around like a madman.”

She placed a tiny cream-colored box in his hands, his wife sitting right in front of him, eyes sparkling with excitement. “You didn’t miss anything, Marcus, just open the box. You’ll like it, I promise.”

He nodded, pulling at the perfect bow holding the box closed, carefully opening the lid. For a minute, he just stared at the contents of the box, his eyes wide with shock. Ever so slowly, he picked up a pair of teeny baby booties, placing them in his large palm. He took the second item out, a pregnancy test that digitally read, PREGNANT. His hands began to shake; tears began to overflow, tracking down his cheeks. He looked up, his gaze locked on the woman in front of him.

“Sweetheart, are we-? Are you-? We’re- we’re having a baby?” he managed to choke out.

There was one more item in the box, at the bottom, an ultrasound labeled Baby Moreno. He studied the picture intently, his thumb moving over the little blob on the paper. That was his baby, their baby. They were having a baby.

“Holy shit,” he murmured, “we’re having a baby!”

A giggle made him raise his eyes once again. “That’s what I said, too. I’m about ten weeks along now. You’re going to be a daddy of three, Marcus Moreno.”

He scooped up everything in his lap, dumping it on the nightstand. He quickly grabbed his wife, flipping her so that she was under him. He covered her face in kisses, whispering how beautiful she was, how she was so loved, so treasured, so cherished. How their baby was made of nothing but love, how they were precious cargo, and how he would protect both of them every single day of his life. He kissed down her jaw, down her neck, eliciting breathy moans from the woman underneath him. His kisses went lower and lower until he reached her belly, pulling her nightie up around her waist so that he could get to her bare stomach. He planted dozens of kisses all over her belly, in awe of the life growing in there.

“Hey baby, it’s your daddy,” he cooed softly. “Your mommy and I already love you, little one, and you’ll have two big sisters that I just know will love you too. I can’t wait for you to be here, little baby. I promise I’ll be here for you.”

He looked adoringly at the mother of his youngest child, grinning as if his world had been made complete, and in all honesty, it had been. This baby, this tiny little one growing inside of the woman that he loved most, filled a hole in his heart that he hadn’t even been aware of.

He bit down on his lower lip, smirking while ever so slowly pulling off her panties. He would lavish the woman he loved with every ounce of devotion, adoration, and love he had to offer. A breathless Oh please, Marcus was all he needed to motivate him to continue. He opened her legs up, giving him access to her slit, wet and wanting. He groaned, the sight making his mouth water. If he had it his way, Marcus could spend hours between her thighs. Two fingers lightly toyed with her slit, moving up and down, collecting her slick.

“Look at you, baby, so wet for me, and I’ve barely touched you. If this is what pregnancy does to you, amor, I might have to start keeping better work hours so I can spend my time between your thighs.”

He could see her hips try to follow his fingers, desperate for more than he was giving her. “Marcus, don’t tease, please,” she whined. He chuckled, easily giving in to her pleas. He couldn’t say no to her, not tonight.

He buried his head between her legs, tongue coming out to lick a broad strip all the way to the top of her slit, his nose nudging her clit. She tasted like heaven, making him moan into her core, sending pleasurable shivers up her spine. He speared his tongue into her, getting as deep as he could, fucking her pussy with his tongue while her fingers tangled themselves in his curls. He kept exploring her folds with his tongue, hitting all the spots he knew would make her see stars.

He easily pushed in two fingers, causing her to buck her hips up, matching his pace. He focused his tongue on her clit, alternating between drawing lazy circles and sucking her into his mouth. His fingers hit that sweet spot inside her with every thrust, bringing her closer and closer to her release. Before he knew it, she was cumming around his fingers, squeezing him tight and pulling him deeper. His mouth flooded with the taste that was uniquely hers, prompting him to moan. He could feel himself rock hard in his pants, leaking with his arousal.

He crawled off the bed, swiftly ridding himself of his clothes, placing his glasses safely on the nightstand. He grabbed her glasses as well, placing them next to his own. She had shrugged off her robe and nightie, languidly watching him, her eyes blown wide with desire.

“Marcus, I need you inside of me,” she begged. His large cock rested heavy against his stomach, tip red and leaking. The thought of him inside of her was almost too much. She needed him, and she needed him right now.

He settled over her, catching her lips in a deep, earth-shattering kiss. His tongue explored her mouth, letting her taste herself. Marcus was intoxicating, enthralling, and all she wanted was more. Finally, they broke apart, panting slightly.

“Dr. Moreno, my lovely wife, mother of my child, let me make love to you. Let me show you how happy you make me, sweetheart. I want to make you touch the sky,” he whispered into her ear.

She beamed at him, cradling his cheek gently. “Yes, baby, I’m all yours.” He leaned back in, catching her into another searing kiss. He worked his length up and down her slit, coating himself in her slick, bumping her clit a few times in the process. At last, he began to leisurely enter her, inch by inch. They both groaned when he bottomed out, fully seated inside of her.

“Fuck honey, you’re just so tight, so wet, so warm for me,” he whimpered, moving inside her with slow, deep strokes. He wanted to make this last, to draw out her pleasure. With every thrust, he told her how good she felt, how beautiful she looked underneath him, how her pussy was made for him, how perfect she was. He could’ve gone like that for quite some time, slowly bringing her closer and closer to her high. Only her pleas of more, faster, harder made him speed up.

He grabbed one of her legs, placing it higher on his hip, allowing him to hit deeper inside her. Her hips moved in unison with his own, meeting each thrust into her. He would never get tired of the pretty sounds she made for him when he was fucking her. Those breathy moans she let out, the babbling it all spurred him on. He could tell she was close. She always got so fucking wet and even tighter right before she came. He dropped a hand between them, rubbing hard, tight circles around her clit. Not even a half dozen thrusts later, and she was wailing in ecstasy, clamping down on him like a vice. He wasn’t far behind, spilling himself deep within her, muttering her name over and over like a prayer.

He rolled off of her, panting, taking a minute to catch his breath as he gazed at her blissed-out form. Hair a mess, chest heaving, lips swollen from his kisses to Marcus, she was stunning. He couldn’t think of a moment when she was more gorgeous than right then and there. He could look at her forever, just like this.

Eventually, he got up and grabbed a warm cloth, gently cleaning her off. Turning off the light, he climbed back into bed, pulling her body to his, cradling her close. He let his hand wander, rubbing soothing circles over her belly.

“You’re gonna look so stunning, honey, all round with our baby. I promise I’ll take such good care of you. I’ll do whatever you need.”

He could feel his wife sigh, completely relaxed in his arms. He held her close, basking in her warmth and the love between them. He let his mind wander, thinking of the future, thinking of this baby.

“I’m gonna cut back at work, move more into an advisory role in the Heroics. As your pregnancy progresses, I’ll be able to work from home and take a solid chunk of paternity leave when the baby comes. I’ve given enough of myself to the world. It’s time for me to give everything I can to my family, to you, to the girls, to this baby. I’ll go drop off the marriage certificate tomorrow before I go into HQ to talk about restructuring my job. That way, you’ll officially be Dr. Moreno, even though you’ve already been that to me for a long time.”

She answered him with a happy sigh and kisses to his hand that entwined with hers. “I’d like that, Marcus. It might be selfish, but I want you here, with us. We love you so much; it’s nice when you’re here. It makes our family complete.”

They spent a few more minutes talking about the future, drifting off into deep, dreamless sleep. The thought of tomorrow was full of bright promises, just waiting to be embraced.

#marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno x y/n #we can be heroes #pedro pascal

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quinn-tessence · 4 years ago

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Nocturne for a Clown

Part 3

Summary: you're tormented by the realization Arthur is the killer clown on the news, yet no bone in your body feels any different for him. Not even Casanova's advances could sway your from wanting to hold Arthur in your arms and alleviate his sorrow. He's had a bad day, and retreats on your couch, broken and confused.

Length: 5k words

Warnings: mentions of murder, lack of remorse, guilt and grief, seeking comfort where he'd never had it from. Smut with dear Arthur that could cause a rush of tremors, be warned. 🤭❤

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You sat and watched. Then watched and watched some more. There were no words, no voice, no sound coming through your gaping mouth as the skin on your lips almost started to crack. It made sense. The blood, the bruise, the liberating sex, the wretched guilt. Oh God, what has he done?, you repeated in his voice over and over, that impossible puzzle putting itself together before you as you hid your gouging eyes underneath heavy, sweaty palms in a much too similar reflex to his own.

What has he done? He'd been beaten down surely, given his frail nature you could see how he'd be fluent in being at the receiving end, but as grievous as the thought was, it made it no less valid. This was bad, he’d land straight into Arkham if you picked up that phone to call the authorities, the way a considerate citizen would, as if Gotham deserved any at all. But you weren't one of them, were you? Never had you really fit in, yet you tried for the sake of appearances, it had become so burdening of late, only the thought of Arthur could provide the comfort you'd been seeking.

The news reports kept blaring, yet all your compassion overflowed for the clown, had you been able to see things objectively you'd still think he was hero. Three fewer assholes in Gotham, only a million more to go, you heard an inner voice say, even if you knew that was enough reason to throw you into the depths of Arkham Asylum. You'd sadly known that place from family, and you never wanted to set foot in that Tartarus again, but perhaps the apple didn't fall far from the tree. You couldn't stomach the thought of Arthur sitting opposite the glass wall from you, so dozed up on sedatives he'd hardly even recognize you. No, no, no. You wouldn't let that happen, and yet he'd need his own time and space to process.

You resisted the urge to bang on his door and ask for a full account, it felt as if you were a passenger on a derailing, speeding train. Regardless of how breathtaking the turquoise water under the rails, your gut wrenched at the thought of plunging into it head first. You were a decent swimmer, but you knew you’d be incapable of fighting those waters from swallowing you whole. You'd just given yourself to him, entirely and shamelessly, and regret was nowhere in sight. Had you been the forth prey of his killing spree, he would have killed you already. Yet he did the exact opposite, in distress and quivering like a leaf, but it was your door he opened after his rupture. He trusted you to keep this secret for him. And you welcomed the trust.

Within a few days you noticed you'd returned to your bad habit of unconscious nails biting. As if the deafening tumult between your temples wasn't enough, you also had to self flagellate as you desperately waited in silence.

You were busy enough at work, and the newest addition to your team had become daring enough to invade your private space little by little. Tall. Lean. Broad shouldered. Curly caramel hair and eyes of obsidian, winking at you shamelessly each time he passed by you. Patrick was a force in his field, yet he rolled his eyes and tongued his cheek whenever you'd call on him for a task, as if wanting to taunt you. Quite quirky and unprofessional, but restrictive enough to question yourself if you were merely projecting. Not once had he failed to deliver, on the contrary, yet that sly attitude never left him. Hm. The distraction was welcome, but it was nothing more. You'd catch yourself staring through him, picturing sparkling emeralds and cocoa, having to snap yourself back to reality before he'd think it was him you were aching for just like all your infatuated colleagues.

He must have checked with your giggly girlfriends before casually slipping in an invitation to your favorite bar after hours, casual drinks with a few colleagues, of course. Perhaps you should have politely declined, but you needed the respite from the heart wrenching torment, even if just for a few hours.

As empty as the venue was, he insisted on strolling in your visual field, intriguingly charming, maybe a bit too charismatic. It was time to maintain a level of dignity with your colleagues and remove yourself before getting into a state where you'd find yourself in Arthur's apartment, this time fully conscious. Yet Patrick gallantly offered to drive you over, posing a certain concern for your safety alone in the streets with a murdering clown on the loose. HA! You giggled at the joke being on him, silently talking to yourself. No thank you, you rascal, protection from that clown is the last thing I need. He insisted on paying for the taxi at least, and you’d had two drinks and wanted to be home already.

The thunderstorm washed the streets rapidly as you entered your building. You loved ravenous thunderstorms, especially as they traversed the sky over your cozy apartment bathed in lily scent. You took comfort in the hot shower and the chilly air in the room, lightning bolts clearing up the sky for a flash of a second as you wrapped yourself in the bathrobe, ready for Murray's dry humor.

Oh God! Your heart leapt to your throat as a soaked silhouette bathed your floors in cocoa flavor. At last.

‘Arthur! You scared me!’ he lay motionless, your words passing through him as if he wasn't even there. ‘Is everything ok?’

His damp fingers absently traced a faint line over the glass of your coffee table, his body slouched and stiff, the edges of his hair dripping on the couch.

‘I had a bad day.’

The words had come from a deep dark pit inside his chest, a wretched misery draped across his face as you kneeled next to him, cupping his cheeks. You'd ached to see his sparkling jades, yet you'd met them covered in a thick coat of tears, on the edge of dropping.

‘Arthur, what happened, sweetheart? Talk to me, please' He was so tired and withered, not even the wicked cackle would surface in this state.

‘I had a bad day…’

‘You said that, sweetheart, tell me what happened. Are you hurt?’

‘Kitten. I've done something… I…’ for seconds he tried to articulate, but the cackle fought its way up his throat.

‘Arthur shhhh. I know it was you. You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, I won't force you… I won’t judge you for it, I promise. Just sit with me for a second’ his head already leaning on your chest, your palm caressing his piercing bones, even through sets of clothes. He sat sedated, limbs heavy, flesh trembling, voice cackling in wrenching anguish for what felt like minutes on end.

‘You do?’ he asked between ruptures as if to steer his initial subject into whatever you'd conveniently brought up.

‘I do. I knew it the moment I heard the news after you stormed out. I saw the blood and the bruise on your face. You won't find any judgement here, I promise. I know you needed time to process, but you’re here now. Shhh' you almost cradled him in your arms, the most powerful instinct to protect him even from himself overbearing. He was all bone and sinew, like a hungry lone wolf, but there now was a sinister vibe to him.

‘Good. I'm glad you know. I lost my job that day, and then they attacked me in the subway, beating me to a pulp. Hm. Now you'll know that killing them hasn't bothered me at all. How's that for casual conversation?’

An unnerving tremor slid down your spine at the tone of his voice. You'd known him for a while, yet this resentful sneer was far from something you'd expect from timorous Arthur. Dreadful it's what it was, spine-tingling, intriguing, you were utterly mad to clasp this deranged man to your bosom when another prince charming just waited for one damn look from you. Who cared, you thought, Gotham’s gonna claim all of us sooner or later.

‘All I want is for you to be safe, Arthur. I won't tell anyone, but you need to be careful, sweetheart, you can't be saying things like those to anyone, please'

‘I have no one to tell, Y/N. And you’re not just anyone. You know. I’m still here, although you could have thrown me in police custody for the past few days.’ The cackles had given him a short respite, even if still lingering on the edge of bursting. He wheezed heavily before speaking. ‘My whole life I didn't even know if I really existed. And today, I feel… hollow…’

You'd asked and asked again as you touched his face and held it close to yours, his forehead as cold as the thunderstorm outside this comforting protective bubble.

‘My mother had a heart attack. She's in the hospital. Hah. My mother…’ a late instinct turned your skin to prickles hearing him speak from a different octave, a thick air of mustering resentment filling the room. ‘I had a few days to myself and I decided to deliver a letter to Thomas Wayne from her, seeing how he never bothered to write back. I'd told you she worked for him 30 years ago, and I read it although I shouldn’t have. I'd never known my father, but the letter said it was him. I confronted my mother and she told me everything about the two of them. But… instead of some warmth or a bit of decency, he told me my mother was insane and that I had been adopted. That and a punch to the face is what I got. Hm. Who am I, then? You tell me'

Your own eyes on the brink of overflowing, your soul coiled. You couldn't do much, but he needed comfort. Where would you even start, though? His tone of voice, the grief weighing him down, the droplets off his wet hair disintegrating whatever pieces were left of him, a question mark in stead of whomever he thought he'd been his whole life. Yet he didn't expect comfort. Such a foreign concept to him, as if reserved only to an elite he was not part of and would not dare intrude upon. You could easily hear how he'd just laugh it out into his pillow at night, his cries stifled, lacking a corner of privacy and personal intimacy where he could really build up that forced smile he'd put on every next day. You’d go utterly mad if you were in his shoes, no comfort and no expectation of it. So used to being overlooked, deep down he knew he was alone, and that filled him with fear and hopelessness. So you shushed and nuzzled him to your chest, hoping the warmth of your body would be soothing enough for the chaos that he was.

‘I don't know who I am, kitten. So I went down to Arkham and stole my mother's file just to find that he'd been right. The… horrors… she subjected me to as a child had gotten me locked up in Arkham years ago, but now I think I was just trying to hide from her, from this rotten city, from this world. I felt safe in that white room, ironically. When they released me, the heavy medication was supposed to make me feel better, instead it suffocated even my most basic impulses.’

Laughter ripped at his throat and pulled his face into a grimace, your palms clasping him so tightly you were afraid you might smother him. How much pain and grief could a man take, his poor soul must have been bound to an eternal rock, forever pecked by hungry vultures.

‘How can you even welcome me into your home if I don't even know that much? I’m so sorry I dragged you into this. I should go, no need to burden you with any of this' he meant every word, as he kissed your hands with teary lips and dragged himself half upright.

‘Don't go' you close to begged. ‘Please stay.’

The grooves in his forehead you loved, just as the distinctive scar on his upper lip and the deep dark eye bags crowning his jades, his state of mind added another couple decades to his age. As you took him in through your pores, you remembered the shy clown peering through the shelves, and how the makeup would do the exact opposite of its intended purpose. Somehow he'd been unaware of how the makeup brightened his eyes to a clarity and sharpness you could cut yourself into. It was endearing how he'd stared at you when you'd first seen him wearing the costume, thinking he could hide under that mask when really it only brought him to life, his facial expressivity more riveting than ever. Yet he was here with you, more Carnival than Arthur even without the paint, as broken as a mirror in infinite shards.

‘Will you still have me here after this?’

‘I would. Please. I'm glad you came here after all this instead of going back home.’

The thought he'd ever been intimate with a woman before you had dissipated in an endless pool of murky turquoise, the genuine surprise in his eyes cutting you to your bone. There was no question, you knew.

‘Thank you, kitten. I'll stay, if you want me here'. There was no hiding anymore, you'd made it sparkling clear by being an accessory after the fact.

‘I do, Arthur, so much. I wanted you here… since you held that elevator for me, yet somehow we always missed our moment. No need to thank me…’

Had it not been for the roaring thunder, he'd probably hear your galloping heart, yet his composure betrayed just that acknowledgement. Every fiber in your body ached to touch his soul and mend it. The erotic tension you couldn't deny, but that wasn't anywhere near the reason why you'd willfully allowed yourself to become his accomplice. He sat back down, timidly reaching for your hand with his own smooth fingers, to place it on his cheek, now as warm as to ignite all the fires inside you with only one touch. Regardless of the endless torment of his life, it was so effortless to feel safe in his presence, even if he'd just killed three men in cold blood and joggled his life as he balanced on a thin string.

‘But I want to. Will you... let me thank you?’ his eyes had meekly turned to yours with a restless heeding for that glimpse of complicity you'd joined in a few times before.

‘If you insist, sweetheart, I guess you already did. You're welcome.’ And through that smile you could feel your body radiating as intensely as a candle flame in the dark. You’d tripped and fell into feelings for him, and nothing could brush them off.

‘No... I really want to thank you, kitten...’ Painfully slowly, he drew himself closer to you, a cocktail of demureness and ardor shaping his beautifully chiseled face into one that you'd missed your whole life, without even knowing. ‘I want to... put my mouth on you...’

Oh… He'd shown you a short, blissful glimpse of this other Arthur, the less tense, less uptight, more daring when he'd taken what you both wanted. There was always a limit to his courage, and yet he’d usually fall back into the timid, maiden like demeanor that he was. This felt different though, as there was a glimpse of unbridling in the way he inhaled, in the twitch of his contoured eyebrow, his whispering husky voice demanding consent. He needed this. Perhaps it would help deafen the torment for a quiet minute, and you were willing to let him try. Oh, who were you fooling, your heart had leapt at the thought of this since you saw him motionless on your couch, albeit in your mind the roles had been reversed. You'd bitten your lip instinctively, a most nonverbal cue of compliance to his plea, and within a short second he was tasting it, sucking it, biting it gently, as his nimble fingers strolled so tenderly through your hair to uncover your face, your eyes already deeply sunk behind fluttering eyelids.

‘I want to feel you shiver in my mouth' he whispered with a faltering voice, taking in all of your scent through avid nostrils. ‘You always smell so good, so clean… I want to taste you…'

So tender he was, you'd forgotten what it felt like to be wished for, body and soul alike, yet his palms willingly showed you a striking contrast to the tenacious Arthur who'd barged in days ago, as if your skin was porcelain and he wouldn't want to break you. He uncovered your naked skin underneath the fluffy bathrobe and smoothly tasted the growing prickles with curious fingertips, lowering himself towards your thighs at a painstakingly slow pace that would soon have you beg.

Pulling you to the edge of the couch where he’d slid himself, he finally broke the jarring tension of his eye contact just to move his head lower, descending decisively. The instant his curious lips parted, a shiver jolted through your flesh and your heart leapt into a marathon, you let yourself fall into his mouth without any control. How beautiful he was, you reminded him over and over as your fingers slicked his damp hair back, curling it around his ears, uncovering his furrowed forehead and perfect chiseled jawline. The sight of him between your thighs was no stranger, but you’d only seen it from afar until now, deep within the corner of each of your fantasies. Such a kind soul he was, but that mouth a wretched devil… oh my…

For a second he looked as if he'd forgotten all his sorrows as he strolled his tongue over your petals, tasting your skin one inch at a time, gently exploring to test your every reaction to his laps, his eyes fascinated with each of your whimpers. The throbbing love button he'd unveiled, a curiosity he had to touch with his tongue to feel the pulsation, your purrs a source of the validation in an endless sea of self doubt. Taking his time, curiously exploring this newfound medication for his sorrowful blues, he quickly grew hungry and greedy as an addict for a stronger fix, yet somewhat cautious to not overdose. His dilated basil eyes etched onto your contorted face, delighting in each tiny reaction he drew from you with his mouth, yet the catalyst to set you fully ablaze were his own moans as he enjoyed himself enjoying you. Oh God, what is he doing to me, I never want him to stop…

You’d thought you'd be the one comforting him, but it seemed as if he was doing it for both of you. His eyes moved around maniacally, taking in the shape of your naked breasts, of your nipples hardened at the thunderous air in the room, your moans guiding him into a delicate rhythm that could make you climb walls, even with the clumsiness that came with tasting a new person. He couldn't be a novice, although his curiosity was striking and enticing. Regardless of all that sorrow he'd brought with him, he curled a satisfied smirk under his scar and an impertinent twitch of his eyebrow sent you into a frenzy. His jades dilated at seeing your lips bitten, your eyebrows furrowed, close to crying in ecstasy, unable to move at the pleasure he gave and gave some more.

The mercury in your thermometer jumped at knot speed towards one big show of fireworks whose fuse got consumed by his kindling flame at a slow pace. Thoughts of his recent killing spree rushed through your mind, yet you were as high as a kite. You didn't care. So you let them ooze out to leave a hazy emptiness behind to be filled with all this spectacle of indulgence.

The pleas were whimpering whispers as you arched and etched your fingers in his smooth cocoa hair to anchor him, the other palm clenching a poor throw pillow to deformation. You hips guided by the rhythm of his palms on your waist, your moans deepening as he'd made you move onto his face, using it as a fine tuned instrument to orchestrate the crescendo of both your pleasure. Now that all your 8000 sensory nerve endings could light Gotham for Christmas if visible, his tongue flickered around your pearl, feeling the climax building up towards that overwhelming rapture. Moans turned to shrieks, toes and fingers clenched in reflex, his eyes and mouth on you as he winked from under long dark eyelashes. You combusted so powerfully into his mouth, within a few blissful seconds you'd left him glistening in traces of yourself.

Only as you quivered your last drop of pleasure in his mouth did you realize why he'd needed this so badly, he craved the validation of being a man even if his identity in shatters. It was one thing to have no identity, but another to not even be a man. Pleasuring you was one damn win that would hold his feet on the ground if he did it right, and that he could control. He had been scrutinizing you as you gasped for air, your eyebrows furrowed almost painfully, your flushed delicate muscles still throbbing under his tongue.

‘Oh, Arthur, that was… amazing…’

Still lingering his lips onto your inner thighs, he kissed tenderly as your flesh still twitched. You wanted him even more now than you did before. But tonight should be about him, even if he'd taken the lead so gracefully, so skillfully, so deliciously.

‘Yeah…’ the shyest smile draped across his tinted face, 'I felt that, kitten. I've… never really done this before…’ You'd known, deep down, and yet hearing him say the words was the most tender of piano nocturnes to your ears, so you latched at his mouth to taste him through your flavor, one that if you could bottle up, it would drive mankind rabid into destructive adoration.

Come here, Arthur, you whispered as you pulled him next to you, the puzzlement over his arching eyebrows an absolute delight you'd dreamt of relentlessly. He didn't fight it, yet the stiffness in his bones betrayed an urge he'd palmed away many nights without resolution, anxiety creeping over him at the realization it was now staring him in the face.

‘Wh… what are you doing?’, you shushed him as a response.

‘Kitten, please, don't feel like you need to give me anything back…’

‘Who said anything about giving back? I'm taking this for myself, Arthur. Let go, baby, let me take care of you'

‘Kitten… ohh' his eyes went straight to the back of his head, heavy eyelids covering his jades, his lips parted as your fingers traced the bulge straining his pants to suffocation. ‘Ok…’ he exhaled anxiously, a timidly bouncing knee betraying the rush of emotion flowing through him as you dragged his clothes over his head, his pants crowning the floor within a few seconds, leaving him naked to your hungry gazes.

The flickering light of the candles reflected over his protruding ribs as if a part of his body had caved in under the weight of his shoulders, his palms on your face strolling and tasting the reality of your flesh, he must have thought you were a side effect of his medication. Yet the prickling shivers traversing his body as you trailed your fingers over it were not. You reached for his lips as you lay him across the couch, your breasts invading his chest, the warmth of your body soothing his anxious trembling. That defeated look on his face, so vulnerable he'd made himself to you, he had nothing to give yet you still wanted him. He was mystified with even the remote possibility, let alone you giving him that adoration he'd chased endlessly, but never caught.

‘You are so beautiful, Arthur, let me show you, please…’ He was your paradise lost in the depravity of Gotham, a villain in itself, weighing down on each of its residents and having chosen Arthur to crush mercilessly under its own lack of a well defined identity, ready to teach us all lessons in humility that could lead to desperation.

He nodded shyly, his jades coated with an acute layer of yearning over something he'd never been given before. His body was a withered Stradivarius, abandoned in the corner of a cold, damp world, subjected to years of weathering and painful lack of any care, no wonder he was so feeble in between your fingers. But his strings were steel, and steel doesn't weather. It would naturally respond to external factors just like anything else but no amount of forcing, pushing, suppressing would bring out the brilliant austere sound it was designed to bring. Had he been less frail, you'd relate him to a cello, one that needs to be held tight to one's chest before playing it, where its resonating chamber rests upon the artist's heart as she moves the bow on the saddest of instruments. Yet he was so fragile, the wails of his chords almost bringing you to tears as you ghosted over them, testing what amount of pressure would bring the vibration, how to explore the potential of the sound and bring it closer to perfection. You were there to give him all that, to polish all the dust away, his wrinkles, his chiseled edges, to practice on his strings and validate his worth until he felt himself a Stradivarius for the first time in his life. He'd been blessed with a beautiful instrument that could bring such intense sensory bliss if only he'd find the right hands, and you longed to play him through the night, to tear your fingers into his chords and to sing his melancholy away.

What a trembling mess he'd become as soon as your lips strolled down his neck, the smell of rain and cigarettes off his skin intoxicating you into indelible addiction. The farthest you went, the more you saw how little he expected that you'd turn your full attention to him, as if never daring to expect anything other than what you'd allow him to take. You kissed your way down from his chest, palms exploring and fondling every bony texture, every inch of soft skin until reaching an extremity that felt to your fingertips as both together. Trembling, he slicked back his hair and sunk deeper into the couch, scrutinizing your face in detail and feeding you those micro expressions of Arthur and Carnival together, the twitch in his eyebrow a give away that you'd be playing for an audience of two tonight.

So immersed in the overflow of sensation he was as you took him into your mouth, his only verbal response a muffled ‘F-fuck, kitten', but his whole body screamed a different story of twitches at the touch of your tongue and lips. How demure the sounds he made as he shivered over and over, his eyes shut tightly, his mouth half open, heavy breaths raising his chest, quivering lips alternating silent approvals or four letter curses, as if careful to not be caught. So painfully expressive, all you wanted was to see him melt under your touches like silver over a burning flame without a hurry in the world, your tongue tracing a tale more evocative than any words could ever express.

With each stroke of your lips, he let go to all but that intense pleasure, as if your mouth held the power to oust the very fabric of reality, offering him an escape into a wonderland he'd been denied entrance all his life. He wants to be wanted, needs to he needed, lusts to be lusted for, his quivering lips more than enough validation for that thought. As you felt his muscles unwind, his fingers tremoring, his breath traversing his trembling body, you'd made him float in an isolation tank of indulgence. When you stopped, his voice would growl and whimper in reflex, the purring sounds begging for more. Some would call it schadenfreude, you called it your tiny overdose in hearing him say 'please' as you teased and inflamed him. His taste in your mouth, his smooth texture, his delicate skin, you wanted nothing more than to lock that door and trap him in this perpetual state of bliss. For eternity wouldn't be enough to put together all his broken pieces, but it would be a start.

The meekness in his jade eyes was wrenching, yet as he looked into yours, you quickly understood why. You couldn't hear his silent whispers, yet you knew he was begging for more as the throb in your mouth intensified and his whimpering green eyes slid to the back of his head, his palms clenching the couch so forcefully he could tear into it. It mattered no less as you felt him completely let go throb after throb, his body convulsing in spasms, the taste of him ambrosia hidden from all other mortals.

His head sunk deep in the couch pillow, his arms and body heavy and immobile, breath ragged, he giggled for the first time that day, a laugh so genuine it felt foreign to both of you, a rattled stranger you both wanted to welcome in and nurture back to his feet. As he lay sprawled on your couch, naked and ecstatic, you wished he was happy, for once. You needed a minute to freshen up, and as you returned to shut the windows and lay a blanket over him, he'd almost dozed off from exhaustion.

You sunk next to him as slick as a cat, laying him onto your chest and fondling your fingers in his damp cocoa hair, his limbs latching at you rendering you almost breathless with the radiating warmth of his body.

‘Kitten, I… I don't know how to thank you…’, he whispered in the nook of your neck, asleep had his flesh not sweetly twitched him back to a half awake state. ‘I've been off my medication for a few days, but I might have found an endless supply of pure morphine…’. His body had finally rested its convulsion, his limbs falling heavier, his breath slower, within a few seconds of his thought his eyes already moved spastically under heavy eyelids.

He was right, he'd found pure morphine, and so had you. It would consume you both, but him in your arms was that feeling humanity had sought since its birth. A once in a lifetime adventure they'd write sonnets about in the past, one that was yours to experience and live through with Arthur. That morphine had just kicked in for both, and you were floating on a cloud high above the thunder slowly roaring away in the night.

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

Thank you for reading this far! ❤

A special thanks to a few of the lovely people in this community that inspires me to keep putting my odes to Arthur on paper:

@wuika @iartsometimes @impulsiveclown @arthurflecc @littlebird92 @life-or-something-like-lt @jokers-puddin-pop @arthurfleckownsmysoul @jokersdoll @bananabreaddough @paperorigami @ransomguest49 @daydreamhustler @arthurjokersgirl @forever-fleck @sweet-nothings04 jokerlicious @ajokeformur-ray @shaw-2000 @jaraysha1121 @jofic059 @shit-i-love-clowns

#joaquin phoenix joker #joker arthur fleck #arthur fleck #joaquin phoenix #joker #joker fanfic #joker x reader #joker x you

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royalcordelia · 5 years ago

Text

The Secret of Distance (1/?)

Summary: Anne and Gilbert embark on their journeys, but stay close to each other at heart. Courting across 1000 miles isn't easy, but they're more than willing to step up to the task. (A post s3 story).

Notes: I know starting another mc is not a healthy life choice, but I needed to write this story and I wanted it to have a bunch of chapters, so here it is! Enjoy!

~~*~~

There wasn’t much Anne could do except lay back on her unfamiliar bed at create constellations from the cracks in the ceiling. Her heart was so full in her chest that it weighed her down against her mattress, and she reveled in the feeling. Could a person die from so much happiness? Her mother’s book on the language of flowers laid against her breast right above her heart, and she swore its lingering traces of motherly love seeped into her skin like stale perfume in an empty bottle.

Diana’s quiet footsteps land in the doorway, but her beloved kindred spirit merely allowed Anne to exist in the quiet of the room. Anne’s happiness bled out of her like sun rays, and it was all Diana can do to keep looking at her.

Then, with the unexpected haste of a well cranked jack-in-the-box, Anne sat up in bed and gave Diana a stunned look.

“I want to hear the whole story,” Anne murmured, half-rushed, half dazed. “Whatever did you say to him?”

Diana stepped into the room, admiring the cleanness of her bed across from Anne’s. She settled at the side of her best friend’s mattress and crinkled her eyebrows sheepishly.

“I might’ve read him the riot act after he told my father he wasn’t engaged,” Diana began. The guilt in her voice drained away and she grabbed Anne’s hand. “Dearest, he never received your letter. You should’ve seen his face when I told him there was one.”

Anne’s jaw dropped. She stammered for words, “I...But I left it...How do you even miss a letter like that in broad daylight?” She blanched. Regret dripped into each of her words as she said, “Oh, I know exactly how. For instance, if a person where to, say, tear up the letter before reading it and then throw it out her gable window…” Anne groaned. “What did it say!?”

Diana, piecing together the rambles, grabbed Anne’s pen from her side table and handed it to her.

“You can just ask him, you know.”

Anne held the pen in her hand as if it were made of solid gold and jeweled with ancient crystals. For some reason the sight of it makes her remember him at her doorstep, chest heaving from running. His eyes had been filled with such overflowing devotion that Anne thought she’d drown the closer she grew to him, but there was no where else she wanted to be. The overwhelming feeling begins to fill her chest once more and she takes a deep breath.

“Are you scared of what he’ll say?” Diana questioned quietly. Shaking her head, Anne bit her lips and tried to remember the exact feeling of when Gilbert had kissed her.

“No, something tells me that anything he has to say will be such wonderful poetry.”

“Gilbert isn’t very poetic.”

“On the contrary, dearest Diana, there is always something inherently poetic when a man reveals to you the contents of his heart.”

Diana grabbed one of Anne’s pillows and stuffed it against her chest. For a moment, Anne wondered if it was insensitive, talking of love when Diana had ended her own romance with Jerry so abruptly. But then Diana smirked and plopped down unceremoniously on the bed.

“I see how it is! You kiss a boy once and suddenly you’re an expert?” she teased. A thrill went down Anne’s spine and she smothered a squeal with both hands over her face.

“Three times, Diana! We kissed three times! ” she shrieked, so lovesick that Diana couldn’t help but laugh. She couldn’t wait until they told Cole, and Aunt Jo, and-

“You kissed whom three times, Anne?!”

Anne and Diana’s laughter ended abruptly on their lips when Josie Pye came into the room. She was followed by the other three girls, who waited on baited breath for Anne’s answer. Biting back a chuckle, Anne did her best to keep her face neutral. They all looked so silly! Ruby’s eyes were wider than Anne knew they could be, and Tilly was pressing her lips together to physically lock back all of her questions.

Anne and Diana righted themselves on the bed, backs straight like the proper ladies they were. She spoke in the most neutral tone she could muster - which was not very impressive, considering how happy she was to be confessing that she had kissed - “Gilbert.”

Their jaws dropped to the floor with a silent BANG, and Anne wondered if maybe one of them still liked Gilbert, after all. Her doubt only lasted a second, and suddenly the room erupted in shouts of triumph and delight and confusion. They threw questions at her, all of which Anne tried to answer as best she could.

“Gilbert Blythe!? Anne, you never said you liked him! When did you start-”

“Earlier this year! Maybe always? Definitely always.”

“Is he good at kissing?”

“I don’t have much experience to base it off of, but it was incredibly perfect”

“I thought he was engaged to-”

“I thought so too, but apparently he ended things with her to pursue his ‘unrequited love.’”

“Unrequited love?” Diana cut in. “He really thought you didn’t return his feelings?”

Anne shrugged.

“There were a lot of misunderstandings, I think. I still don’t know for sure how it all transpired.”

There was a pause before Jane crossed her arms.

“Well, where is he?”

A twinge of disappointment hit the back of Anne’s heart. This day had been so beautiful in ways that even she could not have imagined, but the entire summer could have been that way if she hadn’t been so…so foolish ! All they’d gotten was a few moments before he was swept away to Toronto. Her little twinge of disappointment was overshadowed by how proud she was, and how much she loved him, but it was present enough that her eyes fell to the floor.

“He’s attending University of Toronto. Miss Stacey contacted a friend of hers, I think. He said it was imperative he arrive today. It’s quite a long train ride, so that’s where he is right now.”

Anne couldn’t help but smile. How sweet he looked from the back of the carriage. She had half a mind that he would’ve given up college right then and there if she asked him to stay. As wonderful as it would have been to spend the afternoon in his arms, kissing and clearing up all the confusions, his future came first. Now that she was part of it, she didn’t feel so afraid to let him go off into that bright, expansive world.

“So I guess that means you’re courting him now,” Ruby said excitedly.

Anne looked down at the pen in her hand, then at her group of friends. Was she? Anne wanted to court him, even if it was for a long time. Not to mention, he’d broken off his courtship for her. Anne’s stomach fell to the floor when a rush of affection overtook her. Gilbert Blythe had turned down a girl who was everything Anne had once wanted to be, and the Sorbonne, so that he could try again with her.

“I...I suppose I am courting him, in a long distance sort of way,” Anne concluded carefully. “I’m adding that to my list of follow up questions. I want to know for sure.”

“We’re happy for you, Anne,” Diana said, placing her head on Anne’s shoulder. Resting her cheek on Diana’s new updo, Anne heaved a sigh of relief. What a gift days like today were, where Providence proved he had not left her behind. Wrapping her fingers around Diana’s, Anne brought their hands up to her lips.

“Shocked, but happy,” Josie supplied in a Pye-ish voice. “But can we eat now? I came up to tell you lunch is ready?”

The girls began to file down the hallway, their footsteps echoing against the tall walls of the house as they clambered down the stairs. Diana stood in the doorway once more, watching as Anne pressed a kiss to the pen in her hand and placed it on her bedside table. There’d be time for writing letters later. For now, Anne had her own future to step into once and for all.

~~*~~

During the moonlit peace of the evening was Anne’s favorite time to put her heart to paper. As she sat down at her new desk, she wondered if pen and paper had ever been put to better use.

Dear Gilbert,

I look like my mother. I look so much like her, in fact, that for a brief moment I thought I was looking down at my own reflection. But the glorious name “Bertha” was scribed atop the portrait, and an equally lovely name was signed across the bottom, “Walter.” How those names fill me with such warmth to say on my lips.

I do believe I’m leaving out an integral part of this story. Matthew and Marilla visited today. They had gone to see a woman I lived with as a child and brought with them a book on the language of flowers. (Expect some pressed blossoms in your near future, I have much I’d like to say to you!) The darling book had once belonged to my parents, and it was there my father sketched a portrait of my mother.

I will be forever astonished at how a girl like me, who had such meager beginnings, could come upon such a wonderful family! Not only Marilla and Matthew, but the kindred spirits I’ve collected along the way. (Of course, your name is written on that list and underlined twice.) Today has taught me an eternal appreciation for love, and I find myself overwhelmed by the intensity of it. I wonder if you know the feeling.

As you’ll recall, I have several follow-up questions, but in exchange for your honest answers, I feel it’s only fair to offer you some explanations of my own. It’s just that I’m unsure where to begin. What do you already know? Hmm…The beginning is as good a place to start as any.

Gilbert, you must understand that love is such a young concept to me. I have only been on the receiving side of love since shortly after arriving at Green Gables, before which, I’d never even observed it with my own eyes. I’ve had being loved by family mastered for quite some time, thanks to Marilla and Matthew, but allowing you to come into my heart was so much different. Trying to translate what I’d read in books and compare it with what I truly felt was much harder than I anticipated.

Oh, it wasn’t the loving part that was hard. Loving you is as easy and breathtaking as stargazing from my new window. But realizing it, letting it happen, allowing myself to believe that a person like you could care for me...that was where the difficulties arose. It wasn’t until everything was still and I was content that you hit me like a roll of thunder. I sat up in my bed and exclaimed, “I’m in love with Gilbert Blythe!” Gave Diana quite the scare.

I’m sorry it took so long for me to come to my senses. Part of me wonders what would have happened if I’d realized sooner. Nevertheless, I’m exceedingly grateful that you appeared at my doorstep today, as magnificent as ever, to take one last chance.

You’re likely curious about the note I wrote you. To be honest, I cannot explain to you why you never received it. I left it right underneath the water jug on your kitchen table. I wonder where it is now. Thankfully, the contents of the letter were quite short and, in more ways than one, sweet. I’ve inserted a new copy inside this letter so that you can have what you were originally meant to have.

There are more questions I have, but I think I’d rather hear what’s on your mind first. (Not that I can mail this until you write to me first with your return address.) There is one thing I will ask because, though I’m 99% certain I know the answer, I’d like to be entirely certain: are we courting? If you’re waiting to hear what I think on the matter first, I’d like to court you, even if it’s a four year process. Or longer. Truly, Gilbert, all I want is you.

Oh - and how much does train fare cost from PEI to Toronto? I’d like to start saving as soon as possible to come see you.

Alright, my love, I think I have sufficiently taken up an adequate amount of your time. Please know that I’m thinking of you during your first days of college, and I already miss you beyond words.

Yours always,

Anne

(PS: Where in the world did you learn to kiss like that? No - don’t tell me, I don’t want to know.)

#anne of green gables #anne with an e #shirbert #awae spoilers #tessa writes #catch this on ao3 too!#a girl sometimes just has to COPE.

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swsh-sorts · 5 years ago

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How would the SwSh characters react to them realising that their friend always seems to put them first? Spending time with them, helping them with tasks, checking in on them, tending to them when they're sick but forgetting to really take time for themselves. I tend to have a bad habit of it and I'm trying to retrain myself and ignore the feeling that I'm being 'selfish'. That said please take care of yourself too, we know you have other obligations so take your time.

God, I hope you know this ask made me smile very wide. You are not selfish, anony, if anything, you are very selfless and kind. Take care of yourself as well. :)

Greatful Gestures - Part One

MILO:

He’s be the fastest to come to this conclusion out of everyone else, seeing as he himself seems like someone who is very generous and giving, caring for others around him, before giving any thought to himself.

Milo would always take into note whenever his friend would come by and help him with his farm, while he’s off on gym duties, or to ask whether he was feeling well, when visible fatigue lingered around his friend.

He’d feel very surprised at first, but then he’d feel guilty, as he thinks his friend has some sort of obligation. Milo would make sure his friend knows they’re cared for just as much as they care for the him.

NESSA:

Nessa wouldn’t be too observant into noticing her friend’s actions straight away. She isn’t blind, but she didn’t think that her friend would be neglecting their own needs for the sake of her own.

When she realises how much her friend had given and provided for her, Nessa would feel very flustered, yet angry at herself for not being able to reciprocate the same amount of kindness.

From then on, before her friend was ever allowed to do anything, she would make sure all of their needs were met, before making sure to give them as much love as possible.

KABU:

Kabu would be against all of the care in the first place. Not in a bad way, not at all, but a “I can take care of myself but I appreciate everything” way. He’ll be quite disappointed if he finds his friend not taking care of themselves first.

I feel like Kabu is a person who values self-care, and would try to show that sort of view to his friend. While he understands it’s their nature, he wants to show how being healthy in self can also be a lot more beneficial to others.

A real positive guy. He’ll start to return every bit of kindness shown to him, and would make sure his friend is healthy, or he’ll sit them through another lecture.

BEA:

Much like Kabu, I think she would also value self-care, and how it can not only help the individual, but those around them as well. However, openly shown kindness and care would not be something Bea was used to, and she’d get flustered as the amount of attention her friend was giving her.

But it was only after a small sparring match that she had noticed this selfless trait true to form. Her friend was checking on her injuries, when they were much worse off.

From then on, Bea would be very observant of her friend. And although she may not outright tell them to take care if themselves, Bea can definitely show her own acts of kindness in thanks.

ALLISTER:

Allister seems like the type of kid that prefers isolation man what a perfect time for that, with some of the most exclusive friends he’d ever allow to be near him. So it’d be no surprise if he grimaced at every doting action his friend sends towards him.

But it’s in those moments where he notices how his friend always seemed to value Allister’s feelings and likings, and would abide by it, even if it meant leaving him alone. And Allister’s not blind. He knows care when he sees it, and it’s overflowing from his friend.

So he’s patient. Even if he can never outwardly announce his appreciation or care, he can hold. He’ll show his appreciation, even if it only seems like toleration at first, he’ll show himself more, day by day.

OPAL:

Old grandma would be quick to notice the behaviour of her friend. She’s known at least one of every kind of person, and knows a rare gem when she sees one.

While she does enjoy the pampering and the kindness, she’ll still have this little tug of guilt that pulls within her chest. But Opal is determined, and won’t allow her friend to lack the care that they deserve.

Sometimes her friend will visit Opal, and she’ll have some homemade cookies. If Opal was invited over to her friend’s home, they might end up getting their laundry done. Maybe even get their own pampering.

GORDIE:

This absolute papaya. After a few weeks of being his friend, he’d know immediately a selfless individual when he sees one. While his form of care and encouragement differs from his friend, he’ll argue that it’s fairly similar.

As soon as any bit of kindness is shown to him, he’ll send it back immediately. It’s a give and receive thing. Gordie is just the type of person to not accept kindness unless it can be returned.

So he makes sure that his friend handles themselves well, even if he has to do the caring himself. If his friend has got his back, he sure as hell has got theirs.

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finalsegamangalover · 4 years ago

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“Always and Forever, Here and Now” ( Reno x Reader )

Waking in the oddest of hours you didn’t quite understand it, you yourself awoken from a dream that left you so angry. But quickly dismissing it and telling yourself it's existence didn’t matter you also noticed something else out of the corner of your eye. As you laid next to him in the dark you heard his breathing change, yes he was still asleep but it was beginning to pick up pace a bit gradually. He tightened his jaw and seemed troubled borderline pained. A second later his eyes snapped opened and shot up from his side of the bed panting and sweating from the fears of his nightmare; a slight inhale of air that seemed jagged from strain signaled you he needed help. He wanted to scream but he was still unconscious to know that he could’ve. Your hands gently touched his shoulders as you sat up and held him closely. His tears streamed hot and fast as he sobbed groquestly at the sight of his fears. Resting his forehead against your shoulder whilst you held him close and tried to coax him to calm down.

“It’s okay, I’m here… I’m here Reno..” you kept saying as the red-haired man whimpered in defeat remembering the horrible image before him; he was coming to terms slowly.

“You are safe, it is only a dream..” You felt him tuck his head under your chin as he cried into your nape. Caressing his back in soothing circles holding him closely.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You asked after a moment or two passed by. He nodded and sniffled regaining his character. Sighing heavily he rubbed his eyes and inhaled deeply.

“It was happening again. The world was dying and we had a mission to take care of. I was borderline dying but Rude managed to save me in exchange for his…” Reno’s voice quivered and cracked in between words as you still provided comfort. He hung his head low.

“I felt ashamed.. He shouldn’t have given up his for mine. I hate the fact of how he thinks of me as childish or reckless in some regards but that doesn’t give him the okay to leave me like that..” His eyes empty and a pang of remorse emanated. You knew they were thick as blood, family by friendship alone. As you witnessed the dread on Reno’s face it caused you to frown sadly.

“I know how you feel Reno, its going to be okay. You both are still here and alive.”

“Like hell we should be..” Reno was going too far, starting to enter that dark place again. Rude warned you about this phase and was it deadly if it progressed. You had to act fact, get right to the point.

“Stop that! You cannot blame yourself for what your job puts you through. These are not your choices, these were orders. I know it doesn’t make up for the fact of morality being present but that doesn’t mean you beat yourself up. You are just doing what you're told to do..” You spoke softly as he shook his head.

“I wish I never dropped that plate..” he admitted. You sympathized with him and held his hand.

“I know you wish time could reverse itself and to fix that point, all you can do now though is forgive yourself.”

“I don’t deserve it..” He was starting to shut himself out. Not this time, not if you had a say in it.

“You deserve compassion, love, respect, and most of all redemption. But you cannot fill someone else’s cup unless yours is overflowing. You deserve to feel a chance at happiness and to live your life in your own way. To relish the gifts and joys one would receive in this path of the living.” your hand touched his cheek as he nuzzled into it crying still.

“You deserve to be just as human as I Reno. Life is too short to be chained by mistakes. It’s up to you to learn to not remake them and continue to live the best that you can be.. all that you can be.” Your words touched him as he now cried silently next to you. He knew your heart was in the right place and he was honored to hear that not everyone has hate and disdain fueling them. He loved how wise and loving you spoke, caring and envisioning the good or ‘learning lesson’ in any scenario. The way you reached out to him, provided stability and a sense of tranquility always bode Reno to adore you more. He was more than grateful to have you by his side; your words resonated passionately within his ears brought all the more recognizing on just how beautiful your heart was.

Reno reached out for a hug as you both sat there together. Within a split second you took the invitation as he squeezed you laying down slowly. His head nuzzled into the top of your head as you listened to his heartbeat soothingly. He didn't feel the adrenaline anymore which explained the slowed heart rate but he inhaled and exhaled a little more noticeably.

“Can I ask you something..?” Reno whispered. You nodded in response.

“Can you sing me our song? I know it’s late and all but it helps..” He blushed a bit stroking his thumb against your back. You smiled and cleared your throat recalling the lyrics clear as a day.

“Is love so fragile, And the heart so hollow. Shatter with words Impossible to follow. You're saying I'm fragile, I try not to be. I search only for something I can't see…” his muscle tension lessened as you kept singing a couple more verses. He gradually began to feel sleepier as his verse appeared.

“You in the moonlight, with your sleepy eyes. Could you ever love a man like me? And you were right, when I walked into your house. I knew I'd never want to leave. Sometimes I'm a strong man, sometimes cold and scared; and sometimes I cry. But that time I saw you, I knew with you to light my nights, somehow I'd get by…” Your voice almost choked on a few words as fresh tears trailed down his perfect cheeks. Both of you signing together in harmony.

“ Lovers forever, face to face. My city ,your mountain stay with me stay.. I need you to love me, I need you today. Give to me your leather take from me my lace..” He nuzzled closely as you drew the covers up more. He and yourself falling asleep feeling a bit lighter. Just before your eyes closed you looked up to see him smiling as your hand cupped his face. His hand gently held your, the warmth of the blanket surrounding you both just as the moonlight peered through the window shining in the room and eventually reaching to your side of the bed. The lighting captured and glistened your wedding bands. Uttering the last line.

“Give to me your leather. Take from me my lace.. But take from me my lace… Take from me my lace”.

#reno ff7 #reno of the turks #reno sinclair #shinra #SFW #love #Tom Petty #Stevie Nicks #Rude ff7 #Rude of the turks

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redriotess · 6 years ago

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Don't fall for the "Free hearts and tickets!!" Scam

This is a long post. It is meant to help you understand why hacking tools and heart/ticket generators do not work. To get the TL;DR version, scroll down to the paperclip.

We've used our last bit of money to pay the electric bill and now there's nothing left over to buy a small pack of hearts. But our favorite route just came out and come hell or high water, we WILL be playing that route with heart options to read about sexy times.

We decide to do some online searching because the Lovestruck app is a piece of software and software can be hacked!!

Next thing we know, we come upon a promise of endless tickets and hearts!!

All we have to do is use this online tool!

No downloading necessary! We can have as many as 999,999,999 hearts in under 5 minutes!

We test out this tool and realize that for some reason it doesn't work. Huh. Weird. Ok. Forget it. There is a whole row to try! The next one just says fill out a survey and we'll instantly have 10,000 hearts added to our account!

Happily, we answer our 2 question survey, fill out our email, phone number, and mailing address?

Hm, ok. Whatever.

We get a pop-up that says: "You are super close to your reward, just answer this one last question!" What's one more question?

Click.

We're asked to enter our email one more time, you know, for verification purposes. Another pop-up appears asking us to select two free prizes!!

Awesome! We get free hearts and two free prizes! We select our prizes. Where should they ship our brand spanking new frying pan and magazine subscription that we never knew we needed? We enter our mailing address, phone number, email...

Another pop-up. "CONGRATULATIONS! Enter this sweepstake to win an all-inclusive vacation to Hawaii for two!!! Just enter your email and phone number!"

Forty-five minutes later we close out all the pop-ups and try to get back to our original window. WTF?? Where did it go? Where are our 10,000 hearts?? Nowhere of course. "But thanks for your information!"

Meh. Let's try this other link.

Oh, snap! This one comes with a YouTube video SHOWING us that it works!! We watch the video, we SEE it with our very own eyes. The guy on the video obtains 100,000 hearts and 50,000 tickets!!

This is it! This is the winning lottery ticket!

We click the link under the video, which redirects us to the "tool". We follow the steps to a T. Why isn't it working? We did EXACTLY what the guy did in the video.

Let's contact the guy! He can help us. We email him, explaining exactly what we did. He gets back to us right away and tries to troubleshoot with us. After a couple of back and forth emails, he tells us: "It must just be your phone. Sorry, I can't help you."

We decide to give up. We resign ourselves to reading our favorite route without sexy time. Life sucks.

...

Two weeks later we come home to a mailbox overflowing with sweepstakes, advertisements and letters from strange companies.

Ignoring the pile of junk, we decide to check our email. 1,478 new messages including an urgent message informing us that due to recent political conflict in central Africa, the secret Rwandan treasure with a monetary value of 100,000,000 US DOLLARS must be immediately transferred to a bank in the United States of America. WE have been found to be the only surviving heir of King Kigeli V Ndahindurwa. Prince Emmanuel Bushayija has been found to be unfit and therefore we must reply to this email immediately providing our name, mailing address, phone number, bank name, account information and last four of our social so that the money can be transferred quickly and safely. We must also provide a small fee of $6,000 to aid in the transfer. But what's $6,000 when we are going to receive $100,000,000.

The next email states that we are wanted by the IRS for tax fraud and must send a payment IMMEDIATELY or go to federal prison. We can send the payment of $10,000 via Western Union to a location in the Ukraine where the IRS has recently relocated.

...

Given this incredibly long post, you should realize by now how these heart generating tools work. They don't. They are there to gather your information or send you on an infinite loop of surveys.

📎 So why aren't there hacking tools? Well, for one thing, they are unethical and take away from the paychecks of the artists, writers, production team, programmers, etc for the game we all love. Outside of that, the biggest reason these tools don't work is that the game is server side. Have you tried playing Lovestruck in airplane mode or without internet connection before? It doesn't work, right?

Your account is part of a database that rests within the Voltage server. When you purchase a pack of hearts, they are added to your account on the SERVER side. The hearts are not stored on your phone memory or locally in the Lovestruck app.

This is also the reason why you can't just add a bunch of hearts in. You'd have to hack your way into the Voltage server, find your account and manually enter the amount of hearts and tickets that you desire. To hack into a server is not an easy task. If you did manage to succeed, Voltage would be able to see any changes that were made on the server and roll these changes back. In other words, you'd just lose all the hearts that you dishonestly gained. Server breaches are flagged almost immediately and have shutdown safeguards in place.

Hoping to breach a server, find your account, add hearts and then read an entire route is close to impossible. You also risk losing your entire account by being banned.

To sum things up, stay away from these hacking tools and empty promises of unlimited hearts and tickets. The only legitimate way to acquire hearts is by buying them, participating in the weekend challenges and winning them through the daily puzzle system.

And if you think about it, why would you want to cheat the system? By buying hearts, you are supporting the fantastic team that is creating these amazing stories FOR YOU. Remember, they have electric bills, mortgages and groceries to pay for too.

I know this was a long read.

I hope that those who have read this entire article have learned a little something.

If nothing else, take-home points:

1. if it's too good to be true, then it probably is.

2. don't support cheating, support the hard work of the Lovestruck team.

I wonder whatever happened to that frying pan...

#lovestruck #voltage usa #supportartists #supportwriters #don't get scammed #havenfall is for lovers #love and legends #starship promise #gangster's in love #castaway #villanious nights #sweet enchantments #astoria fate's kisses #astoria lost kisses

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mmazzeroo · 6 years ago

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Chapter 15 - NED IV - That’s A Big Campfire

@helloimnotawesome - Chapter 15 updated. I’m SO sorry for the long wait. Thought I forgot about you, didn’t you ;) Well....finally there’s a new update for you as well as a new mood board :) Enjoy, my friend! <3

EDIT: Posted this earlier with the mood board but it got flagged!!! Stupid Dumblr, so while waiting the staff to realise their mistake here’s a repost and you’ll have to go AO3 to see the mood board. Sorry about that sweetie <3

NED IV - That’s A Big Campfire

"In a heartbeat, Dr. Stark!"

"Thank you so much, Sam," the boy is still so formal, "and Sam?"

"Yes, Dr. Stark?"

"Call me Ned, please." He smiled to himself.

"Ah right, yes, of course Dr. Stark...Sorry! Ned..." He could practically hear Sam blushing over the phone.

"Good! Now, once again thank you for helping with this, Sam."

"My pleasure, Dr. S..Ned."

Again, he chuckled at Sam's overly politeness. "Won't take more of your time. See you in a couple of weeks," not waiting for Sam's answer he hung up the phone. Crossing the big field of grass behind Dragonstone castle, he walked over to his wife and Rhaella currently busy cooing over his grandchildren who were rolling around on a blanket placed on the grass in the shadow of a beautiful old tree.

"Just spoke to Sam - it's all set."

"Wonderful, honey! He's going to be so surprised!" His wife was beaming up at him.

"Hopefully only in a positive way. I don't exactly have a good track-record when it comes to surprising my eldest son." He sighed as he looked around searching for the man in question.

"Oh stop it!" Rhaella grabbed his arm and pulled him down to sit between her and Catelyn. "He'll be so excited I bet he'll go speechless. You didn't see his sad puppy face when he was on the phone with Robb that day and had to tell him no. He looked like he thought he'd be ruining his brother's big day because of it. We didn't see him again until nightfall."

"He was always an emotional boy, Ned. Considering what he's lived through it's remarkable he's still able to be this empathetic." Catelyn gently stroked him down his cheek and kissed him. "Jon has a good heart. Been put back together with countless stitches yes, but at it's core still true and pure. He'll be over the moon when he sees what you and Robb has arranged."

He couldn't help smile at his wife's wise words. My sweet gentle sons. Trying to catch up on the time they lost together. "You're of course right - both of you." He quickly smiled at both women sitting on either side of him. "Instead of worrying I'll look forward to seeing some joy on my son's face." Joy! Wouldn't that be a sight!

"That's the spirit!" Rhaella gave him a big smile and light-heartedly nudged his shoulder with her own. "Now, not that I didn't know already, but I must say Robb has made a fabulous choice for his future wife." She nodded her head slightly to the riders further down the field.

Margaery and Sansa where on each their horse accompanying little Rhaenys on her pony between them. Rhaenys was in awe of both. Earlier in the day they had been sitting in the grass braiding each other's hair, adding flowers to the braids and even making garlands that they'd been wearing like crowns. He had to admit he found it adorable how the two took the time for Rhaenys and indulged her. Arya, on the other hand had rolled her eyes, pretending to gag and walked away. Oh how he loved his two girls. So different yet so similar. Just don't tell them that! They had the same fierce spirit, though when it came to expressing said spirit they'd chosen different ends of the spectre. Arya was, for the most part, hit first ask later. Sansa, on the other hand, would take the hits yet refuse to give in. My wild wolf and quiet wolf. Interestingly, he'd noticed a change in both over the past 5-6 months that Jon had been here at Dragonstone and everyone had made sure to make frequent visits whenever schedules allowed. The only one flying in a few times a week was Viserys for his therapy sessions with Jon. Arya was gradually beginning to show signs of something he could've sworn was a foreign concept to her - patience. Who would've ever thought! And Sansa, oh Sansa! She was slowly coming out of her shell, walking and talking with a little more confidence every day, and she was biting back. When Catelyn had told him that Sansa had suggested wearing a sleeveless dress as a bridesmaid, if Margaery agreed, his eyes had overflowed with tears. His shy, broken girl wanting to proudly put her scars on display like that to the world made his heart melt with pride and fatherly love. If I ever get my hands on Joffrey or Ramsey I'll smother them with my own bare hands!! Margaery, of course, had happily and eagerly agreed, knowing what a huge step this was for Sansa.

He couldn't help wonder what it was that caused all these changes. Has Jon returning helped fill a void we each had in our hearts? Is our individual healing contributing to us heal as a family? Have we all found our 'missing piece' in our lives and souls? Or are my girls just growing and maturing at their own natural pace? No, it was all connected to Jon one way or another. By his attempts to reconnect with his siblings and family for his own healing he was helping them with theirs as well. He knew Jon didn't necessarily do this knowingly. After all, the young man was simply trying to regain what he thought he'd lost. However, when he saw anyone in need of help - in anything - he immediately jumped in to provide any assistance he could. He'd always done that even as a little boy. Jon didn't want to see anyone in pain or suffering for any reason. Once again he was taken aback by his son's willingness to help others even if it meant at the expense of his own health. He had done so for years as a member of the Night's Watch, and it became even more ironic when taking into account Jon's blood type. O negative, also known as the universal giver because all other blood types could receive it without trouble - Jon however if given any blood type other than his own would die. It was as if the Gods had forged him to endure heartbreak, pain and suffering for the sake of others, to shield others, to help and save others. What was it Jon had said a few months ago? 'The same hammer that breaks glass forges steel'. That's it! Jon is teaching Sansa that she's steel while all this time she thought of herself as glass! Except he's hitting her with buckets of love. Ha! Jon you brilliant man! He made a mental note to go properly thank the gods when he returned to Winterfell before the wedding. Gods, the wedding! For a minute there he'd completely forgotten everything about it.

He was happy for Robb and Margaery, but at the same time he couldn't understand his little boy had grown up so fast. Oh Ned, you sentimental old fool. Every parent thinks that. He shook his head slightly. In just a few weeks his son and heir to the title of Lord of Winterfell would be marrying the granddaughter of President Olenna Tyrell. It was quite a match and the media and the public loved it! The media! Damnit! Another thing we need to try to prepare Jon for.

Just after New Year's the Starks and Targaryens had sent out a joint press release informing the public of the miraculous return of Jonathan Dayne, heir to Starfall and the son of Eddard Stark and late Ashara Dayne. The families asked to kindly give Jon and his family time and space to recover from the shock, and any press inquiries could be directed to Mr. Tyrion Lannister. Shortly after the President had made a public statement that the Starks were collaborating closely with the authorities, and that further investigations into the events of the years since Captain Dayne's kidnapping and the people involved were already under way, and how she was hoping to hear about more families being united despite all the time passed. The public had responded overwhelmingly positive and sympathy messages online and offline had poured in. Especially messages from Dorne and the city of Starfall was filled with excitement of how they'd welcome him back home with open arms. Luckily, Jon and the cinnabons, thank you for that nickname Arya, had managed to remain sheltered on Dragonstone for the past almost 6 months. Now though it was time for him to step out into the limelight and take his 'rightful' place in the media as the Lord of Starfall. Viserys had assured him that Jon was ready for the circus and that he'd be alright surrounded by family. At least he'll have Dany by his side as well.

"Speaking of future spouses," his wife interrupted his busy mind, "your daughter has made a wise choice herself, if I may say so."

"Indeed! She's had a few trial and errors, but I have a good feeling about this new man in her life." In a mirthful tone Rhaella continued, "I have on good authority that he's from a reputable family, and he's even a war hero!"

"Oh my! What a catch!" Catelyn played along with Rhaella's joking tone and comically pretended to be fanning herself. "But is he handsome? No fun in bagging a man if he's looking like an oaf!"

"Believe me my friend when I tell you he's the prettiest in all the lands!"

He couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes. Giggling like school girls!! Gods!

Catelyn wrapped her arm around his waist. "Oh c'mon, Ned, have a laugh!"

"Not as long as you call any son of mine 'pretty'!" He said feigning offence.

"But it's the truth, dear Neddy!" Really don't like it when she calls me that. "Next month at Margaery and Robb's wedding there'll be swooning left and right over all of your sons, but in particularly your eldest. Oh Cat, can you imagine how dashing he'll look in his uniform?! I might even swoon!"

All three of them laughed out loud at that image. Rhaella herself so much she had her head leaned back and holding on to him to keep from toppling over.

They all sat quiet for a bit trying to catch their breath again.

"On a serious note though, I do have a good feeling about those two. They are clearly good for each other, and in due time I expect it to naturally end in vows as well." Rhaella stretched her arms and tickled little Adei and Amador on their little chubby baby stomachs and the air was instantly filled with delighted baby giggles. "They are both mature enough to understand that this is something that needs to be done slowly. It warms my old heart to see them take their time to get to know each other and enjoy each other and not rush in like headless chickens." She turned her head a gave him and Catelyn a warm smile.

"They grow up so fast don't they?" His wife was looking at the babies with a wistful look in her eyes. "Oh by the way before I forget, Margaery and I have managed to colour coordinate Dany's maid-of-honour dress to the colours on Jon's uniform. Wasn't easy as the blue and red doesn't exactly go with the colour scheme of the wedding, but we made it work." She flashed a satisfied smile before adding, "with a little help from Sansa as well."

"And what did my daughter say to the changes?" Rhaella had an amused look on her face as if fighting to hold back a laugh.

"She doesn't know. We didn't want her to keep secrets from Jon. Not telling how the bride and her maids will be dressed is one thing, but in this case the reason why would be a big secret."

"Thank you!" He leaned in and give his wife a tender kiss on her temple. She clearly understands how sensitive Jon is about secrets. Gods I love her!

"When she questioned it, Sansa told her that all the Starks were colour matched with the bride as a way of symbolically welcoming her to the pack. Dany of course still looked a bit sceptical." She chuckled at the memory. "So Margaery simply told her it was a bride's prerogative to change her mind."

"Of course!" Rhaelle chimed in clearly amused at the story.

"So that means she'll be as surprised when she sees him as he will seeing her?" He was a little puzzled.

She chuckled. "Yes. She's just expecting him to show up in the traditional morning suit."

"Oh, we better be ready to catch two pairs of young lovers when they see each other that day then!" Once again Rhaella and his wife were giggling like school girls. Once again he caught himself rolling his eyes at them.

Catelyn cheerfully slapped him on his arm. "Don't tell me you weren't thinking the same thing, Ned." Actually I wasn't. "Jon won't even notice the bride walking right behind Dany, nor will Robb notice anyone in front of Margaery!" Again he was surrounded by contagious laughing and he willingly joined in. Gods, she's right!

"I take it Arya enjoyed joining the boys for her first tailor-made suit?"

"Immensely! Although she did find the whole 'having to stand still'-part very tedious." Both women joined in his laughter.

"Well my dear, she is our wild wolf after all." There was so much love in Catelyn's eyes and voice when she said it that he had to kiss her.

Pulling back he looked in his wife's beautiful blue eyes and said, "that she is."

Rhaella cleared her throat as she with an innocent voice said, "want me to leave?"

"Oh stop it, Ella! You're just jealous." Catelyn teased back

"I am actually but that wasn't my point." Laughingly Rhaella wrapped little sleeping Adei in a blanket and stood up.

Catelyn wrapped up Amador, still looking curiously around. As she stood up she placed the little boy in his arms and she packed up the big blanket they'd been sitting on.

"Should I be concerned though," he caught the two women's curious look now, "that our little wild wolf will throw a fit because she won't fit with her new favourite brother now?"

Catelyn and Rhaella shared a look he couldn't quite decipher though there was a hit of worry there.

"Well...," his wife looped her arm with his, "what colour tie and waistcoat will she be wearing?"

"All groomsmen have grey waistcoats and colour of tie is set to match the bridesmaid. Being Arya she of course chose a gold coloured tie, and though her and Bran have switched places I don't think you'll get her to change the colour of her tie. Sorry ladies."

"Oh no, gold should fit well with the golden pieces on Jon's uniform so we should be in the clear. Thank the gods!" His wife huffed out a sigh of relief and Rhaella was just chuckling next to them.

As they were crossing over to where the boys had made camp Catelyn suddenly stopped by his side, pointed and laughed. "How much wood did you tell them to use, Ned? That's big a campfire!"

#helloimnotawesome #heartstrings #jonerys modern au #jonerys fanfic

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pyrebriight-a · 6 years ago

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Hyrulean Familiar Spirits;;

And since I don't think I ever rewrote my headcanon about Hyrulean familiar spirits...

They're essentially little pieces of Hyrule's magical energy that overflow. You'll see a black stalk sprouting from the ground, from a tree trunk, from the shallows of a pond, from the desert sand... anywhere, really! It will be covered in small, glass-like balls with a rainbow nexus of energy swirling deep within.

These are familiar "eggs," or "seeds," or whatever word works best for you. If someone with magic potential picks one and feeds it some of their arcane energy, the familiar will hatch, and bond to the mage. A partnership is formed between the two, and it grows based on their mutual adoration and respect for one another; a familiar whose mage mistreats it can and will leave for the leypaths early. They will not take that kind of bullshit.

Unhatched eggs eventually fall from the stalk and break, spilling their energy back into the leypaths. So a familiar spirit needs a mage to bond to if it wants to exist as an independent, thinking entity!

Once it accepts the energy of a mage, the familiar takes on the form of a sentient creature, usually an animal, mythical or otherwise. Typically, they're black in color, somewhat featureless, and very soft to the touch, with an indistinct, smokey look about their edges. Their eyes and the insides of their mouths take on a glow in a color specific to their mage's magic tone; for example, Zelda's familiar, Diabhal, has a white glow, because of her intense affiliation with divine light magic, and he takes the shape of a Maine Coon cat!

Having a familiar bonded to you is pretty nice! They are little friends who love their mage partners, and they can communicate with vague sensations and flashes of color, communicated mentally. They don't need to eat or sleep, but they can, and some of them enjoy it (Diabhal has a particular fondness for sausages.) They can revert to a misty form not unlike what comes out of an unhatched egg and flow through cracks around windows and under doors (though they may yowl at the window just to be an asshole, if they feel like it.)

They also, in essence, grant the Help action in battle, like in D&D, by either lending their mage some of their magical energy, or distracting an opponent. They tend to be good judges of character, since their mage is the center of their world, and will be able to tell if someone has hostile intentions toward their person. If your familiar is hostile to someone, there's a good chance they mean you harm, or at the very least, they dislike you.

When a mage bonded to a familiar dies, their familiar will dissipate, returning to the leypaths that circle the world, and adding a bit of their bonded's energy into the cycle of magic. This is actually their primary function in the grand scheme of things! It's like genetic diversity; the more unique magical signatures the planet has coursing through its veins, the better it can fend off withering attacks from otherworldly entities or creatures that suck its lifeblood.

Hyrulean familiar spirits are technically sexless. But they have gender identities! You’ll hear Diabhal refer to himself as the “best boy” when he talks about himself sometimes.

Their gender identities are as vast and varied as those of the mages they bond to! Choose the pronouns and identity that feels best for your little buddy along with their animal shape!

Familiars live as long as their mage does, and while they can be killed, it generally takes a lot to do so; a particularly bad hit will scatter their form into mist, which will reform into their animal shape over the course of a day or so. There are techniques that can be used to obliterate the mist, but given the nature of the little spirits, they're considered abominable to use, since they destroy the planet's lifeblood. These techniques tend to be hidden and forbidden Dark Magic spells. And really, why would you want to murder your opponent's little friend after eliminating them as a threat? You're a monster.

Curses and conditions are also passed on to the mage's familiar. E.g. a familiar bonded to Breath of the Wild's Link would also have slept for a hundred years and lost its memory of the people that Link couldn't remember. A familiar bonded to that game's Zelda would have spent a century holding still, in intense concentration, aiding its mistress/pet in her sealing duty.

Hyrulean familiar spirits will bond with absolutely anyone who has magical ability; race, age, moral alignment, and magic type don't matter one fig. They do tend to take on their bonded's moral alignments, though! Both Zelda and Diabhal are Neutral Good, for instance.

Above all? They're just... friendly little guys. They provide companionship and comfort, and love to receive it in return. They're nice!

tl;dr, smol animal spirits with glowy eyes who bond with magic users and love their mage friends very much.

#ooc #headcanonstuff #I heckin' love familiars OK #my Warlock has a tortoiseshell cat called Riley and she's SO MUCH FUN #she's both a security blanket and a scout for Cass

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diabetese009 · 4 years ago

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11 ways to start reversing type 2 diabetes today

by Dr Rangan Chatterjee / November 11, 2015

Whether you have a diagnosis of type 2 diabetes or or you’ve been told you’re at risk, read on for 11 ways to start reversing the effects immediately.

Type 2 diabetes is reaching epidemic proportions. There are 3.9 million people living with diabetes – 90 per cent those of being affected by type 2 diabetes. Here’s another shocking statistic: 1 in 3 UK adults has prediabetes, the condition that precedes diabetes.

As you’ll soon see on BBC One’s Doctor in the House, it is entirely possible to both prevent as well as reverse type 2 diabetes. Unfortunately, a lot of the advice that is given for the condition is, in my opinion, unhelpful and misguided. Most people think of it as a blood sugar problem but this is the ultimate effect rather than the cause.

WHAT IS TYPE 2 DIABETES?

Type 2 diabetes is a condition that is characterised by chronically elevated blood sugar levels. However, the main cause as well as the driver for this condition is something called Insulin Resistance. When you eat certain foods, particularly refined carbohydrates, that food is converted to sugar inside your body. Your body’s way of dealing with this sugar is to produce a hormone called insulin. Insulin moves the sugar inside your cells so that it can be used for energy. Sounds great, right?

Well, yes and no. When working efficiently, this is a fantastic system that helps your body to function well. But when you have type 2 diabetes, prediabetes or significant abdominal obesity, that system does not work so well.

Eating too many refined carbohydrates elevates your insulin levels for long periods of time and your cells start to become resistant to the effects of insulin. Think of this a bit like alcohol. When you start to drink, a single glass of wine can make you feel drunk. Once your body becomes accustomed to drinking, you need more and more alcohol to achieve the same effect. This is what happens in diabetes. You need more and more insulin to do the same thing. The problem is that too much insulin is toxic to the body.

WHAT ARE THE EFFECTS OF RAISED INSULIN LEVELS?

It causes water and salt retention, which causes raised blood pressure

You become at risk of atherosclerosis (“furring of arteries”), which can lead to heart attacks

Raised insulin levels increases VLDL (very low density lipoprotein), a type of blood fat and one of the “bad” forms of cholesterol

Can drive the growth of certain cancer cells

In women, it can cause the ovaries to produce more testosterone, which is associated with Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome

Significantly increases your risk of getting type 2 diabetes

The only way to effectively reverse type 2 diabetes (or even pre-diabetes) is to deal with the underlying cause – Insulin Resistance. Trying to address the blood sugar levels (with medication) without addressing the insulin levels is treating the symptoms, not treating the root cause. It is similar to using a bucket to remove water from an overflowing sink rather than actually turning off the tap!

The most important thing to do is to stop adding fuel to the fire. If Insulin Resistance is driving the condition, you need to firstly stop consuming foods that increase insulin production. Secondly, you need to make some lifestyle changes so that you can become sensitive to insulin once again

SO, WHAT FOODS INCREASE INSULIN PRODUCTION

All carbohydrates – to some degree at least – will raise your blood insulin levels. That is why I consider type 2 diabetes a form of “carbohydrate intolerance”. Protein can also raise levels but to a much lesser degree. The only macronutrient that keeps your insulin levels and, therefore, your blood sugar stable is FAT! Therefore, if you are trying to reduce insulin levels, you need to reduce your amount of certain carbohydrates and replace them instead with healthy, natural fats.

What does that mean in terms of actual FOOD CHOICES though?

When I say healthy, natural fat – think nuts and seeds, avocados, omega 3 fats (found in almonds, flax seed and cold water fish, like wild salmon, herring, mackerel and tuna), extra virgin olive oil and whole eggs.

And when I talk about reducing certain carbohydrates, I mainly mean reducing your intake of refined carbohydrates such as pasta, rice and bread. Non starchy vegetables (such as broccoli, cabbage and cauliflower) are fine and can be eaten in abundance. Many fruits are packed with carbohydrates, so if you’re trying to reduce your carb intake, try and limit your intake to low-carb fruit, such as rhubarb, watermelon, berries, peaches and blackberries.

It is really important to say that I do not believe that there is one perfect diet for everyone. Different people respond to different diets.

However, if you have a diagnosis of type 2 diabetes or if you have been told you are at high risk or if you have significant abdominal obesity, here are 11 ways to start reversing the effects immediately:

Avoid ALL refined carbohydrates. That means no pasta, rice or bread (even wholegrain bread will spike your insulin)

Avoid ALL added sugar. If your body is already in a state where you cannot process carbohydrates and sugars properly, you are going to have to take steps to fully eliminate all sugars, at least in the short term.

Avoid ALL sweet drinks. It is best to stick to water, tea, coffee.

Do not be scared of good quality, healthy, natural fat – avocados, olives, almonds etc. Don’t worry about this causing you to put on weight. A study published in 2003 showed that people who supplemented their diet with almonds lost more weight than those who supplemented with so-called “healthy, complex carbs”

Do not waste your energy counting calories. Concentrate on the quality of the food that you are eating and the calorie control will take care of itself.

FEED YOUR GUT BUGS, not just yourself. There are trillions of bugs that live in your gut – their health is critical in determining your health. Many studiesshow links between the state of your gut bugs (your microbiota) and type 2 diabetes. Start improving the health of your gut immediately by eating five servings of different coloured vegetables each day. The non digestible fibre in vegetables is the preferred food for your gut bacteria and when your gut bugs are happy, you will be happy. The wider the variety of colours, the more phytonutrients you will be getting.

Do my 5 minute kitchen workout once a day. This could be before breakfast, lunch or dinner – whatever works for you.

If you like to snack, keep some high fat healthy snacks with you, such as olives, nuts or hummus. When you snack on refined carbohydrates such as biscuits, you go on a blood sugar rollercoaster that results in you feeling hungry shortly after. Fats, on the other hand, will keep you fuller for longer.

Include high quality protein and fat with EVERY single meal. This helps to stabilise your blood sugars and promotes satiety and fullness, making it less likely that you will want to reach for dessert after your meal.

Eat your meals sitting down at a table. Eating on the sofa while watching TV encourages a mindless form of eating – this can lead you to eat higher quantities than you otherwise would. If you sit at a table and concentrate on what you’re eating, you are more likely to enjoy your food, feel satisfied at the end of your meal and eat less.

Consider a form of regular fasting (more to come in a later blog), such as intermittent fasting or time-restricted feeding (TRF). TRF means eating your calories during a specific window of the day, and choosing not to eat food for the rest. It’s a great way to reduce insulin levels in your body and help undo the effects of chronically elevated levels.

As always, I’m here to answer any questions, so please get in touch via Facebookand Twitter if you’d like to chat.

— Dr Chatterjee

para

DISCLAIMER: The content in this blog is not intended to constitute or be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your doctor or other qualified health care provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay in seeking it because of something you have read in this blog or on this website.

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