#also my organization went all the way off the rails since I started posting again last year I just deleted like 1000 screenshots because

[idonthaveacontract]

image I love. don't have anything interesting to say about it

[harryspet]

rogue angel [1] bucky barnes

[Warnings] dark bucky x reader, forced (noncon) age regression, daddy bucky, kidnapping/abduction, drugging, mild violence, hydra reader, post endgame bucky, dd lg dynamic (future ab dl?), wetting, pacifier

A/N: This one has a super taboo dynamic so forewarning! I’m trying something out that I’m into and I want to know if my readers like it too! I’ll continue if I get some good feedback. Reader is 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

In which Bucky tasks himself with deprogramming you, a former hydra soldier.

series masterlist

word count: 3.3k

You were the Rogue Angel and you were completely unhinged. 

You went off the radar when Hydra was destroyed but, without the guidance of your commanders, you lost control. With no orders from the evil organization, your new identity was crumbling around you. You killed when you felt threatened. You robbed and stole to survive and to keep yourself hidden from the agencies tracking you. 

You were only a child when they stole you from your family and reprogrammed you into a super-soldier. They taught you to use your youth and beauty in order to do their bidding. You never had a chance to be innocent. Still, the world wanted you dead for all the deaths you were responsible for but Bucky thought you could be saved. You could learn to be good just like he did. 

Bucky was familiar with being a fugitive. He was risking a lot by going after you especially since he was going behind the governments back once again. 

You had decided to “lay low” in the East End of London, “renting” an apartment sat above a convenience store, and you had little idea that Bucky was watching you. It confirmed his suspicions that you had gone off the rails and it was even interfering with your normal training. Back in the days when he was brainwashed, it would’ve taken him seconds to realize someone was trailing him and a few more seconds to kill them.

As you left the apartment one day, Bucky noted your erratic behavior. You even fumbled with your keys as you locked your door. As soon as you disappeared down the rough streets of the East End, Bucky made his way into your apartment. He didn’t bother with keys, knowing the strength of his arm could push it open easily. 

He forced it open enough just to crack it, then his eyes trailed down to make sure there wasn’t any tripwire. There was and part of him was a little relieved that you weren't completely unprotected. Normally, he wouldn’t doubt that you could protect yourself, but without hydra commands, it worried him.

He maneuvered himself over the wire before shutting the door and carefully dismantling the wire that was attached to an explosive. He wondered who exactly had sold you the parts to build it. Checking for more booby traps, Bucky made his way around the apartment. It reminded him of the time he spent in Bucharest, trying to understand his relationship with Steve and why exactly he had pulled him from the water. 

There was a small mattress in the corner and only a few knick knacks to decorate the barren run-down apartment. He found money shoved into a jar in one of the cabinets, currencies from all over Europe, and a large map tucked away. Bucky quickly noted that you had mapped out a few Hydra locations around the world.

Bucky sighed, folding up the map, realizing you were going to try to find another Hydra factor to join. As far as he knew, they had all been destroyed and you’d only get yourself caught by a government agency going on this scavenger hunt. 

“I’ll blow your head off if you take another step,” Bucky knew you were behind him as soon as he heard your small voice. You were trying your best to deepen your feminine voice but Bucky could tell it was only an act. 

Bucky moved to turn around until you shouted, “Don’t!”

You hadn’t shot him yet which raised Bucky’s suspicions, “I’m putting my hands up,” Bucky decided to test the theory developing in his mind. He slowly raised his hands and you got a glimpse of the gold and black that was his left arm. 

You knew who he was as soon as you got a glimpse of his face. The Winter Soldier. You racked your brain for more information about him but all you could remember was that he had betrayed Hydra. He used to be like you. 

Bucky took in your appearance, the way you skillfully held your pistol, but also the darkness around your eyes, “Who sent you?” He could tell you had recently cut your hair to be shoulder length and, whatever clothes you had purchased, were from the men’s section. 

“No one,” Bucky answered monotonously, “I’m not here to turn you in.”

You were quiet for a moment. Looking over him, you realized that so much had changed since you had last heard about him. His hair was cut short and he even had a new arm. 

“Then you’re from Hydra?”

You sounded … hopeful, “They’ve been destroyed, Y/N.”

You blinked, staring, before gripping your gun tighter, “That’s not my name.”

Bucky took a step forward and you only narrowed your eyes at him, “It is,” Bucky continued, “You were five when Hydra started experimenting on you. Ten when they started using you in the field. They killed your family and then made sure you’d never remember then.”

You faltered and Bucky took a step closer. You closed your eyes, shaking your head, before lunging towards him, “You’re lying!” You lunged towards him but Bucky was too fast as he sidestepped. 

His arms were still raised in defense, “I’m not here to hurt you either, Y/N.”

“Don’t call me that!” Your finger pressed down on the trigger but Bucky’s movement were sudden, pushing your wrist and grabbing a hold of the barrel as he tilted it away. This led to you wrestling for the weapon. You were still strong, capable of superhuman abilities, but you were weaker without Hydra. 

Bucky pinned your to the ground, sliding the gun away, and it hit the wall with a clang. You continued to fight although it was futile against his vibranium hand. He pinned your legs with his own, keeping you from kicking at him. 

There was nothing but anger in your eyes, pure venom, “I’ll kill you, traitor. I’ll kill you and everyone you care about-”

Bucky shushed you, reaching into his pocket to grab a syringe, “Everything’s going to be okay,” Bucky was still learning to be gentle too and he’d get even more practice in the coming days. You flinched away but only exposed your neck more. Bucky took the opportunity to sink the needle into your neck.

Bucky began to loosen some of the pressure he was using to keep you pinned down. He watched as your body began to slump and you tried to blink your eyes in order to keep yourself awake, “You’ll pay … for this,” Her voice trailed off before you quietly whispered, “Winter … Soldier …” 

Bucky’s lips pressed into a thin line as he watched you float away into a dreamless sleep, “I’m sure I will.”

+

You awoke in unfamiliar surroundings. Of course, everything was unfamiliar to you these days, but you had an especially bad feeling this time. You turned your head, your eyelids heavy as you blinked them open. You saw a blue sky and clouds. A supposedly peaceful scene but what was peace to you anyways? You felt nothing. Death and destruction were peaceful to you. 

You turned your head to realize you weren't outside, looking up at the sky. Her eyes met with a tan leather chair and, as you continued to look around, you realized that you were sitting on an airplane. A private one. 

Panic began to set in as you looked down at your body, a soft blanket covering it and keeping you warm. You lifted your arms but they shook, weak from whatever sedative was in your system. It took all your energy to throw that blanket off and everything else you had to crawl out of the chair. Well, it was more so a fall.

You grunted as you collided with the floor and Bucky finally looked up from where he was standing by the cockpit. 

You realized that your legs were completely asleep as you tried to pull your body up. You turned onto your back with a wince, poking at your barren legs. You couldn’t even feel them. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Bucky approached the scene, realizing that you had fallen from your seat. He didn’t expect you to awake this soon or even have enough energy to try to hurt yourself. As soon as you saw him, you tried crawling away, pulling your limp legs with you. Bucky grabbed you by underneath your arms, against your protest, and lifted your back into the leather chair. 

“Don’t,” you moaned, your voice weak too but it was useless. Bucky continued to sit you up, reaching behind you to buckle you into the seat. 

“There, that’s better,” Bucky looked over his work, his hands on his hips, “You shouldn’t try to walk for awhile, Y/N.”

“What did you do?” You asked, barely able to raise your voice higher than a whisper. 

“It’s easier this way,” Bucky said simply. Easier for him to keep you from escaping and for you to start to depend on him as your caregiver. He took a seat in the leather chair in front of you, lifting some mechanism that brought up a small table.

You looked down to see your legs were bare and you trailed your shaking hands up to your stomach to find soft pink fabric. Moving your hand down, you felt the soft white fabric of your panties. He had undressed you and that made you grow even more frustrated. 

Bucky brought out a manila folder, flipping through its content before grabbing pictures and setting them on the table in front of you. You saw a mother and father sitting on a picnic blanket, a baby girl in their hands. The next photo was a young girl with her grandmother. They were cooking some dessert in the kitchen. Something in that little girl's eyes gave you a sense of familiarity. 

“Do you recognize them?”

You shook your head and Bucky started to add even more photos. The girl seemed to get happier with each photo and you continuously shook your head.

“This was your family, Y/N.”

“And I’m … s-supposed to believe m-my . . . kidnapper,” You hated how weak you felt. Sure, you had made thousands of people bend to your will and tortured them until they told you what you wanted. Unlike you, Bucky’s motives seemed personal. 

“Your Daddy,” Bucky corrected, “You’ll refer to me that way from now on.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, “You crazy-”

“I won’t punish you here,” Bucky interrupted, collecting the pictures and putting them back into the confidential file, “But when we’re truly alone … I have a feeling you’ll find out.”

He wanted to be loving and caring with her. To make her feel like finally someone, other than Hydra, is looking out for her. Still, he’d have to train the bad behavior out of her. 

“Where are we going?”

“America,” He was a man of a few words, you noticed. You were hoping for something a little more specific. If you knew then you could track down some former Hydra bases.

“Where’s my weapon?”

He only chuckled, a smile tugging at his lips. 

“Whose plane is this?”

“My friends.”

As you opened your mouth to ask something else, a stewardess approached, carrying a tray in her hand, “Your bourbon, Mr. Barnes,” She set down the alcoholic drink and flashed the woman a thankful smile, “And for you, Ms. Barnes.”

You scowled at her, wondering if she was in on all of this, “I’m not-”

“Thank you, this is her favorite snack. Could you close the curtain for us, doll.”

“How cute,” The stewardess blushed, walking away, “Of course, Mr. Barnes.”

A white curtain was closed, blocking the two of you away from the front of the plane. You looked down at the table to see baby carrots, apple slices, chicken nuggets, and a juice box, “You should eat. We have a lot of time left before we arrive.”

“I’m not a baby,” Bucky took a sip from his glass. 

“I’d have to disagree.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but instead, you slouched back in your seat, “There’s a good amount of time left on the flight,” Bucky continued.

“I’m not hungry,” You lied. 

Bucky only shrugged, knowing that you were dealing with the battle going on in your mind. You wanted to be taken care of, he knew that, but your conditioning wouldn’t allow you to think that way. 

+

You didn't touch the food, as Bucky expected, even as the flight continued for five hours. You’d experienced worst torture before. This was nothing. You could starve yourself to death if you wanted to but Bucky would just end up force-feeding you. 

“Are you sure?” Bucky asked you again.

“I. Don’t. Have. To,” You explained again, though you could feel your bladder was painfully full. 

“I won’t look, I promise.”

You shut your eyes tight and shook your head again.

Bucky sighed, standing from his chair, “Let’s get you dressed then, little one. We’re landing soon,” Your eyes widened as he walked to the chairs across from yours, a baby blue backpack sitting in the chair. It had the first initial of your name sewed into the front. He pulled out a pair of floral printed overalls, frilly socks, and pink Converse. 

He laid out the blanket that was wrapped around you when you awoke. He undid your seatbelt and your struggling commenced as he lifted you into his arms, setting you down on the blanket, He lifted your legs, sliding on the outfit as you landed futile hits against his back, “If you ate your snacks, you might have more energy,” He was baby-talking you, “Maybe your hits would be more effective, little one.”

Little? You weren’t little. You could kill him if you just … just got your strength back. 

He snapped the overalls into place, easily maneuvering your body. Next was the socks and shoes. You were sure you looked like an overgrown barbie doll. He wasn’t finished though as he pulled out another item from the bag. It was blue, leather, and reminded you of a choker. Instead … it had a white binkie built into it. You struggled the most as he forced it into your mouth, locking it around your head. You reached your hand to find the mechanism that closed it but it seemed to be a magnetic lock. 

Bucky admired his work, grinning, as he put you back into your seat. The plane’s descent began shortly after that. 

No one seemed to mind that a grown man was carrying you, a grown woman, like a child. Bucky thanked the pilot and the stewardess as if he was a totally sane person. Despite you pushing at his chest, he wrapped your legs around him and carried you down the steps of the plane. The gag muffled whatever curses you were spewing at him.

The sun was setting now at the private airport and you looked around for any sign of what state you could be in. 

A sleek, black car was parked beside the plane and a blonde woman emerged as you and Bucky made your way to the bottom of the stairs, “You work fast, Barnes,” The woman spoke. She was dressed in a dark pantsuit, her hair straight as a pin. She looked you over, noting how different you looked from all the photos that were in your file. 

You turned your head away from her, your cheeks heating up in embarrassment. You mentally cursed, angry at Bucky for putting you in this situation but you were more upset with yourself than anything. 

“You have to when you’re starting from scratch,” Bucky answered, seeming to be on relatively good terms with the woman, “You have what I asked for?”

Sharon handed Bucky an envelope, “Sam thinks you’ve lost your mind.”

You felt Bucky shrug, “What’s new?”

Maybe this Sam person would help you escape. Bucky opened the back door to the car, setting you inside and buckling your seatbelt for you. As soon as he closed the door, you started fidgeting with the gag in your mouth that was forcing you to suck on a pacifier. 

You were gaining some of your strength back, you could even move your left leg a little, but it wasn’t enough. Bucky was partially right, you probably would be stronger if you’d eaten the food. And now that your bladder was about to explode, you had too many things overwhelming your senses. Bucky got in the passenger seat and soon Sharon was driving them off. 

You tuned yourself out of their conversation, deciding you should map out your surroundings. As you sit up to look out the window, you watch for significant landmarks that would mark your location. Your plan was foolproof except for the fact that it seemed you were completely in the middle of nowhere. You passed no cars on the road and, as the airport went out of sight, both sides of the road were covered by evergreens. 

That meant you were either in the North West or Bucky had lied about even being in America. 

It made your brow furrow. How could he have chosen such a perfect location? You had underestimated him. Clearly, the Winter Soldier used his new resources wisely. If only you had time to get back on your feet after Hydra. 

The car pulled up to a two-story cabin, a red truck sitting outside in the driveway. 

“Welcome home, Y/N,” You realized that you had zoned out when you felt Bucky undoing your seatbelt. He took you into his arms again and you wrapped your arms around his neck, only for balance. 

There wasn’t some big fence or electric wires. It was just a quaint little house. 

“I’ll see you soon, Barnes,” Sharon waved her goodbyes, and Bucky watched as the car backed away. 

When the car was out of sight, he turned to you, “You’d like Daddy to give you a tour, wouldn’t you?”

You only scowled at him, as much as you could with the gag on. Your baby bag on his back and you strapped to his hip, he carried you inside. As he did, you felt another part of your freedom slipping away. 

He carried you around the cozy home, through the living room and dining room, baby-talking you as he explained small items. The walls were a light beige, the floors a dark wood, and there seemed to be bookshelves made into all of the furniture items. 

Bucky had brought you into the kitchen which surprisingly had stainless steel appliances. The thought of eating flooded your mind but you pushed it down. Before, you could completely clear the thoughts from your mind. Now, your mind was a mess of conflicting thoughts.

Suddenly, there was a loud bark, causing Bucky to pause before he smiled a bit. He set you down on the counter, your limp legs hanging down, “Wait for Daddy for one moment.”

You didn’t acknowledge his command, only watched him slip out the backdoor connected to the kitchen. As soon as he disappeared, you slowly started to ease yourself off the counter. It was a far jump, one that he probably wasn’t expecting you to attempt. 

Your whole lower half was still numb but you felt it as one of your shoes touched the floor. You were relieved, holding onto the counter tightly as you tried the next leg. There was still little feeling but, if you took a moment to practice, maybe you could make it. 

“Y/N?” You were so focused on the task that he had startled you. You almost fell but Bucky was there to catch you. In a swift movement, he was holding you as you pressed against the kitchen counter. 

You felt tears stinging in your eyes as Bucky looked down. You felt the warmness running down your leg and pooling by your feet, ruining the new outfit he had put you in. You’d been so frightened that ...

You can’t cry. 

Weak. 

You can’t be weak.

You started to hyperventilate, anger and frustration boiling over.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, angel. It was just an accident,” Bucky spoke soothingly. You couldn’t even look him in the eyes. He knew you wouldn’t be able to hold it in for so long and he should’ve forced you to go earlier. Still, it gave him an excuse to comfort you, “Daddy’s gonna get you all cleaned up, don’t worry.”

Being without hydra had made him weak, you thought, and it looked like the same thing would happen to you. 

+

Let me know if you’d like to read a second part of this story! I know this type of dynamic isn’t for everybody. Check out my master list for more of my dark marvel fics.

update: both chapter 2 and 3 are posted :)

[loverboystyles]

Twisted Attraction

Pairing: Loki × Reader

Summary: Y/N and Loki have been enemies for as long as anyone can remember, but when Y/N’s parents host a special dance to find a suitor for them, they unexpectedly finds feelings for the younger Prince of Asgard

A/N: hii! so i havent posted anything in a good few months but hopefully this makes up for it? idk, but I hope you like it. also, i imagined this dress for Y/N. also, i tried to make it as gender neutral as possible, so you can change the dress into a suit or jumpsuit or whatever you’d like!

Warnings: Maybe some typos, and fluffy Loki?

Word count: 2.5k

"Do you think he'll be coming to the dance tonight?" your maid asked, waiting for you to finish changing behind your folding privacy screen. 

"Oh," you pondered for a moment, your mind trailing away for a moment to picture him. 

The person you were thinking of was Loki, Prince of Asgard. Sometimes better known as Thor's adopted younger brother, or even the son of Laufey, the former leader of the frost giants. Although you hadn't seen him in years, his image was still engraved in your mind. 

His pale skin. His long, black hair. His soft, blue eyes. The stupid, sly smirk he always had on his face. You hated him. Yes, hate may be a strong word, but you meant it with every fiber of your being. 

You don't exactly remember when the rivalry started between you and Loki, but everytime you two were in the same room, it was like you were reliving a war in your minds. Always giving each other death glares, always exchanging petty insults, always bickering about something, always imagining what you would do to the other if you ever got the chance. 

The pet names always infuriated you the most, though you couldn't tell why. Perhaps it was that he always used them in compliments? Most of them were backhanded, but still, they were compliments nonetheless. 

"Keep your head up darling, you wouldn't want anyone thinking you're shorter than you already are, do you?" 

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Look at your dainty little hands. Thank God you're a princess love, or else you wouldn't be able to do anything." 

"Oh, what a shame. No wonder your parents haven't been able to find a suitor for you! No one wants to marry a sassy little girl with a plethora of attitudes, sweetheart." 

"I... I don't know," you almost laughed, thinking back in all of the trivial rivalry as you stepped in front of your privacy screen. "I mean it's been years." 

Your maid shook her head, singling that the dress you had tried on wasn't the one for you. You nodded and went back behind the screen, waiting for her to give you another dress. 

"Maybe he forgot me." you added, just a smidge of sadness in your voice. 

"Don't get your hopes up." your maid handed you another dress. "He won't forget you that easily." 

You smiled and thanked her, then slipped into the dress. 

It was pastel pink in colour. Not that you were a big fan of it, but you thought that it went well with the dress. It was form fitting, until it got to the basque waist, where it went out and flowed to the floor. It was decorated with pastel blue, yellow, and green flowers. You adored the sleeves, they weren't too big but not too tight at the same time, and they were just the perfect length. It was comfortable, gorgeous, and stunning. 

"I love it," you announced, spinning around so your maid could see. "Thank you." 

She had a bright smile on her face, and quickly helped you tighten the corset in the back. "You must hurry, Princess. You can't leave your could-be-suitors waiting!" 

"Oh yes, I completely forgot." you sighed, hoping you didn't sound too rude. 

It wasn't a lie, you did forget. You were very excited for the dance, just not the reason. Your parents organized this dance in hope of finding a suitor for you. You've tried to convince them that you don't need one, that you'd be perfectly happy being unmarried, but since your parents were quite traditional, they decided to host it anyway. Now, people (not just princes) from all over the nine realms were here, and you weren't looking forward to it. They never fulfilled your standards. 

"Thank you," you said to your maid, smiling at her. "I'll be fine from here." 

You scurried to put on your shoes, and headed out of the room, where you heard the faint sound of the orchestra bless your ears. 

Taking a deep breath in to calm your nerves, you half wished Loki would be here. 

What? Y/N, no. You're supposed to hate him, you thought. You walked gracefully to the ballroom, one hand in the railing and the other lifting the skirt of your dress just a bit so it'd be easier to walk. The orchestra played quietly, letting the people gathered here tonight mindlessly chatter away. 

"Oh, here she is," you heard your mother say, pointing to the top of the stairs, where you were standing. You felt all eyes shift onto you as the talk faded away, but the orchestra was still playing. 

Taking a deep breath again, you looked down the stairs and thought 'It'll be fine.' 

And then you saw him. 

Loki. 

He was clad in all black; black suit, black shirt, black tie, you know it. His hair was slicked back, and just like always, he had that stupid smirk plastered on his face. The smirk you wanted so badly to wipe off his face. But at the same time, you couldn't help to have a certain attraction for the tall man. 

You scoffed and walked stepped gracefully down the stairs. You watched as he eyed you up and down and held out his hand for you. 

You accepted it, and watched suspiciously as he gently grazed his thumb over your knuckles, as if asking if you trust him. You just stared at him, curiously wondering what he was up to, but all he did was bring your hand up to his lips, and place a soft kiss on it. 

"You look ravishing, darling." Loki complimented you. "I like the way your hand fits perfectly into mine." 

"What's up with you?" 

"Nothing!" he replied, feigning sadness. "May I have a dance?" 

"I don't know, can I trust you? You're acting awfully nice." You teased, half meaning it. 

Loki nodded, and led you to the center of the ballroom. You heard shifting around you, you assumed that everyone was also getting ready to dance. You just knew that your parents were watching you like hawks, no doubt wondering why you haven't gotten with Loki when you've had so many "chances''. 

You interlocked one of your hands with Loki's, while your other one was resting his on your shoulder and his was on your shoulder blade. The ensemble started playing some waltz music, and every person started moving with their partner in sync. Mesmerizing movements filled the room, as the gents swirled around in circles with their lady partners around you and Loki. 

You actually danced quite a while with the tall, dark haired male. But everything you two did was in silence. There was eye contact, even some sexual tension, but both of you were silent. By the third dance, you decided to break the silence.  "Bloody hell. You can't dance." 

"Oh, can't I?" He hand slid onto your waist and he tightened his grip and pulled you closer, enough to touch your nose with his. "You should've told me you wanted to put on a show." 

"You don't have to be so rough," you whispered. The music swelled and felt as if it could deafen you. Your face was cross and your eyebrows were furrowed together, the desire to punch him square on the face growing on every step. "Your hand is supposed to stay on my shoulder blade." 

"Same thing" 

"Not even close." 

"Well, I'm sorry." 

"Please, that wouldn't even fool the dumbest baby." 

Loki laughed through his gritted teeth, blue eyes staring right into yours. "Fine, but can you keep up with those adorable little dancing shoes?" 

"Try me." 

You could feel the vibrations of the orchestra's music swimming in the air, attaching strings of gold onto your wrists and carrying you through the ballroom like a graceful marionette. The other dancers began to clear, far too mesmerized by your synchronized movements to focus on their own. The crowd formed a circle and allowed you to take over. 

Loki was light on his feet. You'll give him that. 

"You could at least try to pretend to resent this," Loki chuckled. "Careful now. Don't stare too deep into my eyes, otherwise you might fall in love." 

You scoffed, "You wish." 

"You're right." He spun you around and had you tripping on your toes. He swiftly caught you in his arms before you could fall to the ground. "I wish." 

The dance ended with everyone erupting in applause. The two of you stayed there, out of breath and staring into each other's eyes. 

After what felt like eternity, he let you go. You politely faced him and curtsied, then excused yourself, stepping away from the crowd and making your way up the stairs. You were suddenly aware of your own frantic hearts which seemed like it was about to burst out of your chest any minute. 

Loki's voice rang in your ear. "I wish," repeating over and over and over again, like a broken record. 

You finally made your way to your room and went out to the balcony. You realized it had felt so suffocating in there, with hundreds of people gathered around you. You let the fresh air clear your mind, but it wasn't working today. 

His voice kept ringing and something, somewhere, deep inside of you told you that you felt the same. But why? You were supposed to be enemies, you were supposed to hate each other, but it was the opposite now. 

The same thing that told you it was attraction, also told you that it made sense. The pet names, the charming looks, the mysterious personality, it attracted you. 

"I- I have feelings for him, don't I?" you whispered to yourself, almost out of pity. "I could've chosen anyone in that room, but no. My pathetic heart chose him. Him, of all people!" 

You faintly laughed, resting your forearms on the railing of the balcony, your head hung low and your eyes were shut. "God, this is laughable." 

"May I ask what's laughable, princess?" a familiar voice startled you. 

You spun around and supported your weight by having your hands on the railing behind you, as you looked up to the tall prince. "Nothing," you said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Why are you here?" 

"I wanted to see if you're alright." Loki replied after hesitating. "And to apologize, I feel like I made you uncomfortable." 

You tilted your head to the side, and simply stared at the man. "Why are you so polite?" 

"..." 

Loki stayed quiet and stood beside you. Both if you were looking up at the beautiful night sky, at the complex constellations, and the bright full moon. 

"Is it true what you said?" you decided to break the silence for the second time. 

Loki simply looked down at you, his eyebrows furrowed. 

"When you said 'I wish,'" you added, looking up at the man beside you. "Did you mean it?" 

"Well..." he sighed, looking down, then back at you. "Yes. I just never knew how to tell you until now." 

"Really?" 

"With all my heart." 

You two simply looked at each other, not knowing what to say. Your head was swarmed with thoughts like '’Oh my god, he just confessed'  and 'What do I do? Do I confess as well?'  and 'Y/N, you're so stupid, just kiss him already!' 

It all felt like a fever dream. You were just standing there, in complete shock. Your enemy since who knows when just confessed his love for you, you felt the same way back but you just couldn't open your mouth to speak to save your life. 

"May I have another dance?" Loki held out his hand. 

You nodded, accepting it. His left hand held your right fingers intertwining. His other, however, wasn't at your shoulder blade like they were supposed to be while waltzing. Instead he let his hand rest on your waist, pulling you in close, but not enough to make our noses touch like in the ballroom. That stupid smirk returned to his face, but this time you didn't feel like punching it off if his face like you usually did. Gradually, Loki started leading the slow waltz as you followed along, looking down at your feet and avoiding eye contact. 

"Do you feel the same?" He asked. You could've swore you heard a tinge of hopefulness is his voice. 

"Yes, actually," you replied, finally making eye contact but looking back down again. "I didn't realize it until tonight." 

"That makes the two of us." He chuckled. 

The cold breeze of the dark sky made faint goosebumps on your skin. You barely shivered, but Loki pulled you in a bit closer like he was using his body as a shield to protect yours. 

You slowly started humming a tune to steady your rhythm a bit, and Loki joined in, knowing exactly which piece you were humming. You smiled and let your head rest on his chest, the tiredness of the night finally getting to you. 

"Tired already, angel? It's not even midnight yet." 

"Oh, will you ever shut it? We were having a nice moment for once, if you couldn't tell" Both of you went into a hushed fit of laughter. 

Loki felt like nothing else mattered but you at the moment. He studied your face, memorizing every detail, as if this was the last time he'd ever see you again. The way your eyes would crinkle at the corners, the way your nose you scrunch up when you laughed, the way your lips always looked so kissable. He admired you, the way you always had snarky comebacks to his comments, the way you would scoff whenever he annoyed you, the way you would always seem so nonchalant which always kept him wanting more. 

In short, to Loki you were his whole world, even if he only realized it that very same evening. 

Loki took the hand that was entangled with yours and cupped your face, his thumb rubbing back and forth on your cheek. He pulled you closer by your waist, making you look up at him. Your free hand hinges around Loki's neck, playing with the ends of his hair. 

He slowly pulled you in, but stopped just before his lips met yours. You could feel his breath fanning over them. You could smell his cologne; you could get intoxicated off of it, you didn't know it was like a drug for you until now. You saw that Loki's eyes were half closed, they were staring at your lips, almost like he was unsure of what he was doing. 

You pushed your boy onto his, your lips colliding, and you gently tugged on his hair, while he cupped your face lovingly. You could stay like this for eternity, but you ran out of breath and pulled back. The two of you were quietly gasping for air, your foreheads resting against each other. 

"I care for you Y/N," he murmured, barely loud enough for you to hear. No one else was there, but he wanted you, and only you, to hear it. "deeply." 

"If that was your way to say 'I love you' Loki, I love you too."

[annoyed-galaxy]

One Moment at Sea

Welp no shame. This is pretty old, but some nice bonding moment between Sparrow and Reaver cause why not. Posted this on AO3 so feel free to read it over there as well but I'll also post it here cause why not.

What was she doing here honestly? Out on the seas in Reaver’s stupid prototype ship. No sails, it only ran off of steam produced by coal that would turn some device propelling the ship forward. Honestly though, this could barely pass as a ship. It was barely bigger than a fishing boat. Sparrow guessed it made sense since Reaver had never tried this out before and there was no point in spending a lot of money on something that wasn’t going to work. So far, it was doing pretty good.

Sparrow was actually impressed. She didn’t take Reaver to be an inventor. But knowing him, he probably stole some of these ideas from someone else and just had the money to actually make it. Sparrow kind of didn’t care. It was pretty peaceful. She stood at the front of the boat, leaning against the railing watching the water part in front of her. There was no land around them, just the open sea. It did make her slightly nervous to be around so much water with no land.

Still, it was the most peace she had gotten ever since...well since she was born. It was kind of sad that this was the only time she had ever experienced peace within her life.

“Enjoying the view?” a voice came from behind her.

Well. Peace ruined.

Sparrow looked over her shoulder at Reaver who was wiping soot off his face. “What were you doing?” she asked.

“Oh well, turns out the coal will run out. So unfortunately I had to shovel more into the engine. Now I’m all dirty,” Reaver complained looking down at his clothes.

Sparrow rolled her eyes and motioned to the open water around them. “You have an endless source of water to clean your clothes,” she snorted.

“Ha ha, very funny,” Reaver rolled his eyes. He joined her at the front of the boat and leaned against the railing. His arm brushed against hers, but she didn’t move.

“Please tell me this thing will get us back to Albion,” Sparrow clucked looking around. “We got this far and there is no longer any sort of land in sight.”

Reaver chuckled. “Of course it will get us back. I calculated how much coal we would need to power this lovely thing and got a little extra. Besides, due to its size, it’s not going to consume much.”

“Yeah about that,” Sparrow started. She pointed behind her to where the wheel was. It was on a deck above what she had assumed was the one and only quarter on this floating hell. There was also a small trapdoor that led to the “engine”. “Why is there only one quarter?” she asked.

Reaver smirked and raised an eyebrow. “Well, to save on space obviously,” he drawled. “Besides, you don’t mind sharing a bed with me anymore do you?”

A blush spread across Sparrow’s face. They hadn’t engaged in any sexual activity, but they had slept in the same bedroll when traveling on the road when it was too cold one night. She had hated that night. Reaver had no problem snuggling up to her, but she was annoyed. Mainly annoyed because she had liked it when he held her. Liked it when had nuzzled his face into her neck. Ever since, they had shared a bed only twice due to similar reasons. Or when there was only one inn room left and it was too small for him to sleep on the floor. She had really hated being in the same bed as him because when he had held her, she didn’t push him away.

A thumb stroking her cheek pulled her out of her thoughts. She blinked a couple times and saw Reaver looking at her with a smile on his face. She frowned, but did not slap his hand away. “Can I help you?” she muttered.

Reaver didn’t say anything, he just moved in closer and brought his other arm around her back. He pulled her into him. Sparrow’s blush deepened and she froze. Part of her screamed to push him away and off overboard, but another part wanted to lean into him.

“Has anyone ever told you you are beautiful?” Reaver said suddenly, his eyes scanning her face. Sparrow had never realized how blue his eyes were before.

“Only when they were trying to get in my good graces or just wanted to throw a random compliment at me,” she grumbled.

“No one has told you sincerely?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. The hand on her cheek moved to her chin.

“N-no,” Sparrow stammered really hating how she liked him now caressing her lips.

“Well, I think despite everything you’ve been through, you are still absolutely gorgeous,” he whispered. “Stunningly breathtaking. I have never met someone as interesting as you Sparrow. You intrigue me so much that I don’t want to let you go.”

“Is that why you kept me around trying to keep me alive?” Sparrow breathed, her breath almost hitching as Reaver leaned in closer.

“Yes,” he replied plainly. “I don’t want to lose my source of entertainment.” He smirked as he said that. Sparrow had half the mind the punch him, but she was still frozen. He was so close their breaths mingled. “I find it interesting how you claim to hate me, yet I have gotten this close and you haven’t punched me or pushed me away,” Reaver chuckled. It seems he had noticed that she was paralyzed and how she liked being held by him.

“What’s the point of fighting you?” Sparrow murmured, looking away. She put her hands on his chest, but she didn’t push.

“So what would you do if I kissed you?” he whispered, gripping her chin with his thumb and forefinger and forcing her to look back at him. She was one hundred percent positive that her entire face was red, even the blue Will lines that traveled across her skin could be red with how much she was burning up.

Again, part of her screamed no, but another part of her really did want him to kiss her. He had kissed her only once and that was right after the balverines had attacked her. But that had been just a small peck on the lips that lasted only a couple seconds. It was right before he offered his proposition to her. It had been a crazy year since then, but now she was on the open sea, in his arms with him literally just centimeters away from her lips asking what she would do if he kissed her.

She looked at his eyes but they were on her lips. Only when he realized she was looking at him did he look up. Sparrow had never really looked into his eyes before. They matched the ocean around them.

Her lips parted just slightly and Reaver took notice as his eyes darted back to her lips.

He took it as an invitation.

Sparrow was overcome with so many emotions when Reaver had finally closed the gap and put his lips on hers. Sparrow closed her eyes and hated how her hands moved from his chest to the back of his neck pulling him closer to her. Reaver took that as another invitation and his tongue broke through her lips. Sparrow was lost in bliss as their tongues danced together. Reaver’s arms moved right above her bottom and he pulled her closer. Their bodies were now touching and their mouths were ravishing each other. Sparrow hated how much she loved this.

Reaver had pulled away from the kiss, but he went to her neck immediately with kisses. They had turned so that Sparrow’s back was against the railing. She tilted her head back as Reaver left delicate kisses on her neck. Then her body lit up when he dragged his tongue from the bottom of her neck to her chin. Her breathed hitched and she really hated how it did.

“I didn’t think you’d allow this, Sparrow,” Reaver breathed, his mouth by her ear now.

Sparrow groaned. “Shut up.”

Reaver chuckled, but went back to placing kisses on her throat. As he was kissing her, his hands traveled down her back and cupped her bottom. She had gasped when he pulled her against him, but by some weird instinct, she wrapped her legs around him. Reaver chuckled and pulled away from her neck just to kiss her again. Sparrow’s fingers dug into his hair, messing it up, as their kiss became more and more fiery.

She hated this so much. Hated how much she loved it. Hated the taste of him. Hated how she felt in his harms. She hated everything about this, but that’s what made it better. They broke apart and were panting. Sparrow’s hands moved to Reaver’s cheeks and she just looked at him. She hated how she was falling for such a selfish asshole.

“Tell me one thing Reaver,” she whispered, caressing the heart mole on his cheek, “did you ever care about anyone before? And I mean at all.”

Reaver raised an eyebrow. “Why do you ask?”

“Because the way I see it, there was someone you used to love,” Sparrow whispered. “And you lost them. And to make yourself never feel that pain ever again, you isolated yourself and pushed anyone who got too close away...or well just made sure no one ever got that close.”

Reaver’s mouth parted slightly and Sparrow could see genuine surprise on his face. “W-what makes you say that?” he stammered. Odd. Reaver never stumbled on his words.

Sparrow smiled and slid her thumb across his lower lip. “I found some old journals of yours. I couldn’t read them but I paid someone to read them for me. Don’t worry, I managed to erase their memory so only I know your secrets Reaver.” Sparrow’s smile widened as Reaver’s eyes went wide with shock and disbelief. “You don’t have to say anything. I’ve come to realize that you and I are not so different. We lost people close to us and went about that loss in very different ways. You didn’t want to die so you made a deal to live forever. I wanted vengeance but when I found it and lost my purpose, I didn’t want to live anymore. Somehow, I just think that makes us work well together. You don’t have to call it love cause I know you’d claim to be above such feeling, but I just think this was meant to be. At least for a time.”

The entire time she spoke, her thumb ran across Reaver’s lip and her other hand played with a strand of his hair. “Now would be the time to dump me in the ocean and leave,” Sparrow added, her tone suddenly becoming darker. “Or do you sincerely want to keep me?”

Reaver was too stunned to really say anything. Sparrow managed to say things that resurfaced old dark feelings he had refused to acknowledge ever again. She read him like an open book. It made him...nervous. But she was right. He hated to admit it, but he was actually caring for her, beyond her entertainment value. He loved seeing her yell at him, loved seeing her get feisty when people refused to back down, loved seeing her fight. Most of all, he loved it when she kissed him back. When she doesn’t push him away. They were no strangers to giving themselves away to other men and women, but he didn’t think they had ever felt so right in each other’s arms.

He knew he should stop. If he opened his heart again, he knew it would break. Sparrow already gave her life away for him. It wouldn’t be long before she started to wither away. After all, when he saw her on the beach a year later after she made the sacrifice, her hair had turned almost completely white. He knew he shouldn’t let her in, but he couldn’t stop himself. She was too intriguing for him. If he could just ignore the fact that she’d be gone in a few years, everything would be alright.

“Sparrow,” Reaver finally spoke up. “I will never let you go because you are mine. And I don’t like losing what’s mine,” he declared. It was the closest thing Sparrow would ever get to some sort of declaration of love from him, but for some reason, she liked this much better.

She smiled. “Then don’t let me go. Keep me here in this world for just a little while longer.” For once ever since defeating Lucien, she felt at peace, happy. She moved to kiss him and he met her halfway. The loss of Rose would forever haunt her, but she now knew she wasn’t alone anymore. She would stay as long as Reaver kept her here. However, she knew to keep her heart guarded. There was no telling whether or not Reaver would stay true to his word or cast her aside.

But she let herself believe that maybe he would keep her for as long as she lived. When they shared the bed this time, Sparrow let herself cuddle close to Reaver. It was going to be a rocky road from here on out, but she didn’t care. It gave her a new purpose.

[klaineharmony]

Defend ‘verse: Triangle

It was the 110th anniversary of the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire yesterday (1911), and while I did make a post about it, I kept thinking about a scene in my “Defend” ‘verse that has been in my head for a very long time - when Sarah finds out about the Triangle fire. 

A key thing to know is that Sarah is, at this point, close friends with Pauline Newman, who was a real person, a Jewish woman who worked at Triangle when she was a child. Newman knew many of the women who were killed, and she had been organizing women workers since the rent strike of 1907. Newman went on to be a national labor organizer and government consultant, and she spent her life with an economist named Frieda Miller; they raised Frieda’s daughter together.

This is not perfectly fact checked, as I just wrote it today, but it is true that Newman was in Philadelphia at the time of the fire. I’ve also made it as internally consistent as I can with what already exist of the Defend ‘verse, though once this makes it into a full story, it will probably be a little different. But here are 1200 words I did not have this morning.

The ringing of the telephone startled Sarah. 

Their friends rarely called on the Sabbath, and especially this late in the day, knowing that the combined Jacobs-Kelly family would be ending the Sabbath, and so to hear the telephone peal was jarring. Sarah picked up the handset with trepidation.

“Hello?” she called down the line.

“Sarah? Sarah, are you there?” It was Elsa, sounding so distraught that Sarah felt a chill run down her back.

“I’m here, Elsa. What on earth is the matter?” Sarah said anxiously.

Even through the slightly hollow sound of the phone line, Sarah could hear Elsa’s sobs, and her worry only increased.

“Sarah,” Elsa said once she could speak again. “Sarah, it’s the Triangle factory. It’s burned. It’s gone.”

Sarah gripped the base of the phone hard, leaning forward as though she could get nearer to Elsa. “Gott in himmel. Elsa, what do you mean, gone? All of it?” 

Elsa began to cry again, and Sarah felt her throat close. “All of it. All three floors. Oh, Sarah, girls were jumping from the windows to get away from the fire, and - and their clothes, their hair, everything was on fire. I was in the park with the boys, just across the way, when it started. There are so many bodies.” 

Sarah felt tears start to fall down her face, and Elsa dissolved into sobs again. It took her a moment to get herself back under control. “They’re - they’re getting the bodies out and taking them to Charities Pier,” Elsa managed. “So their families can - can identify them. But I am sure we know - most of them. Would you -?” 

“I’m on my way,” Sarah said, her hands cold and shaking but her mind working furiously. “Elsa, listen to me. It’s going to take me a little while to get there, and I want you and the boys to be safe. Can you get home, dear? I don’t want you to see anymore. You have already seen enough.”

“I can get home. Charlie is there,” Elsa said, and her voice was a little steadier. “I can take the boys home.”

“Good,” Sarah said gently. “I’ll meet you there, and we’ll go together. I have to let Mama know, and - oi gavult - I will have to stop and send a telegram to Pauline, in Philadelphia. But I will be there as soon as I can, Elsa, do you hear me? As soon as I can. I will come to you. Stay with Charlie and the boys, do you promise?”

“I promise. I will, Sarah,” Elsa said, and her voice was almost firm now. Sarah breathed an internal sigh of relief.

“All right. I will see you soon,” Sarah said firmly. 

“Thank you, Sarah,” Elsa said in relief. “See you soon.”

Sarah hung up the phone, her hands still cold and tears still on her cheeks, and closed her eyes, saying a silent prayer for strength and a blessing for the girls who had died. She would need every ounce of strength she had, from the sound of it.

She went back to the kitchen, where her mother was waiting, and Esther’s face told Sarah that she was already expecting bad news. 

“What has happened, dirast tokhter?” she asked, coming over to Sarah and holding her gently. Sarah rested her head on her mother’s shoulder, for just a moment sharing the weight of the news she was carrying.

“There has been a terrible fire,” Sarah said. “At the Triangle factory. That was Elsa, and she saw it happening. She said the entire factory is gone, and - it sounds like there are many dead, Mama.”

“Gotteniu,” Esther breathed.

Sarah felt more tears start to fall, and she buried her face into Esther’s shoulder and sobbed briefly. Only briefly, though; she knew there would be more time for tears, and she had work to do. 

“I have to go,” she said. “We know - we know so many of the girls who work there, and I promised Elsa I would come to her. I have to cable Pauline on my way - she’s going to be devastated, but I know she’ll want to be here. Mama, can you - can you and Papa look after the children, until Jack and David get home?”

“They will turn around and leave again - they will want to be with you,” Esther said. “And Katherine is there already, if I know her at all. Go, Sarah. Your father and I will watch the children, and I will call the rail yard and let the boys know where to find you.”

“Elsa said that the bodies are being taken to Charities Pier,” Sarah said. “That’s where we’ll be - or at least, where Kath and I will be. I’m going to try to persuade Elsa to stay home; she sounded terrible. I can’t imagine what she must have seen, witnessing that horror.”

Esther kissed her forehead. “Be safe. Be careful. Give my love to Elsa.”

“I will. I love you, Mama,” Sarah said, kissing her mother’s cheek and hugging her, hard.

She put on her coat, hat, and gloves, and made sure to put extra change and handkerchiefs in her purse. She then went to the living room, where the children were busily engaged in drawing with crayons. She kissed all three of them tenderly, her daughter and son and her nephew, and promised them that she would be back soon.

****

When Sarah finally reached Greenwich Village, she stopped at the nearest Western Union office she could find, sending a brief and urgent message to Pauline Newman, at her hotel in Philadelphia, where she was doing union campaigning.

New York March 25 1911

Terrible fire at Triangle. Many dead but no names yet. Please come home, dearest Pauline.

Sarah Jacobs 645 PM

She kept her composure in front of the clerk, but felt herself choking up again as she made her way toward Elsa and Charlie’s building. She had to pass the Asch Building to get there, and as she came in sight of it she stopped and stared, horror seizing her at the awfulness of it.

The entire top three floors of the building were charred to almost nothing, the outer shell of the building clearly the only thing that had stayed standing. The single fire escape was broken and twisted, dangling off the building with more pieces on the sidewalk below. The windows were broken, jagged and ugly in the evening light. The sidewalk below was damaged in many places, and Sarah’s stomach lurched as she saw that firefighters were still lifting some bodies into coffins, for transportation to the pier. She pressed a hand to her mouth as she caught sight of one being moved, charred clothing and twisted limbs clearly visible.

She shut her eyes and hurried away, forcing her eyes away from the building until she could no longer see it. Part of her desperately wanted to go into the crowd and find Katherine, but she had made Elsa a promise. She would either go back and find Kath, or find her at the pier. She made her way almost instinctively to the Morris’ apartment, some part of her registering weeping and painful cries of mourning as she ascended the stairs of their tenement building.

[endlessvoidsnkittens]

Louder Than Life

(Better late than never, right?)

So. Louder Than Life. I went to it. On Sunday, September 26th. To mainly see Metallica.

Let’s start at the beginning.

My friend dropped me off at the hotel to meet @kangamommynow. There was more than one vehicle from her state, however it was soon clear which one was hers. Very clear. Left no question than the other one was NOT hers. It was amusing. Anyway.

So we drove to the festival grounds. Fairly painless, at least I thought. I was in the passenger’s seat so she may feel differently, lol. Fortunately I live here so I was able to supplement the GPS. We had to park a billion miles away from where the festival actually happened. Okay, not a billion, but it was a hell of a walk, especially with a rolled ankle and a craptastic body. But anyway...

They checked our vaccine stuff. We got wristbands. We moved on. Found the VIP entrance. I had to go through one marked ADA because of my cane, which I found a little odd / confusing. It was hard to understand the verbal directions. But we made it in. Checked in at the ADA booth so we could get our ADA wristbands and moved on.

I wanted to get some Blackened whiskey, so we went to that booth first. It’s 5pm somewhere, right? I got a Blackened and ginger ale. It tasted pretty watered down, so my opinion on the whiskey is rather incomplete. Doubt I’m gonna ever spring for a whole bottle though. Then we found a patch of grass and hung out for a while and listened to The Hu when they came on.

Y’all. @kangamommynow is like, the best. I was afraid of not vibing well in person coz...idk, that’s just how I roll, right? But nah. We vibed well, at least I thought. She’s so sweet and funny.

(this is getting long. sorry not sorry.)

I had to pee so we went to check out the VIP section because they were supposed to have air-conditioned toilets. They did not feel air-conditioned. Also all the seats in the VIP section were taken by other VIP people. Did find some gluten-free food in there though. Honey Sriracha rice or something. It was pretty good, but a small portion for the cost. (Typical festival business.)

I wanted to see Every Time I Die so we headed over to the other stage where they were performing and pulled up a patch of grass again. I wasn’t really that impressed with them live. Sorry, guys. I’ll stick to listening to you all on Spotify. Fortunately Sabaton was next on our list to see and they were on the same stage. I wanted to see what the ADA seating was all about, so we went to the ADA platform. I just showed my wristband and up the ramp we went. Got to sit in folding chairs and watch the show. The distance wasn’t too bad. It was nice to sit in a chair although even that hurt after a while. Sabaton was SO GOOD. They should’ve had a higher priority slot. If they come to the area again I will definitely be going to see them.

After Sabaton, we went to get more food. This time I got a giant-ass turkey leg and fries that my ex had told me about. (He was there too.) It was $20 but if I ever post the pic of the turkey leg you’d kinda understand. It was almost reasonable. I couldn’t figure out how to eat it. @kangamommynow was highly amused by me and I think another couple sitting not too far away from us was too.

(trying to wrap this up. sorry for those of you on mobile, haha.)

Judas Priest was on before Metallica so we went to go see them and also claim a spot. We tried the ADA platform for that stage but it was full. They suggested trying again later to see if there’d been any rotation. Thought it was kinda shitty there wasn’t enough ADA room but anyway I was like I’ll be fine, I’ve got my cane. (Famous last words, right?) Didn’t get to pay attention to much of Priest coz A.) couldn’t see them coz they were on the opposite stage from where we were standing and B.) we were trying to hold our ground but they sounded good.

More and more people started filling in for Metallica. More and more tall people started filling in for Metallica. I’m 5′4″. @kangamommynow is shorter than I am. It got to where we couldn’t even see the video screens. We decided to try to move to the back to see if we could get a better spot. We did. Kinda. We were able to see the video screens at least. I made it through I think 3-4 songs before the pain was too much. I asked if we could go check the ADA platform. So we very carefully made our way through the crowd over there. (It wasn’t easy.) The platform was full but the guy let me lean on the railing. That helped a little bit but not much.

As I stood there, I noticed people were leaving the platform and nobody was going back on. I was just trying to mind my own business and ignore my pain and enjoy the concert so I didn’t think about it too hard. Apparently @kangamommynow noticed it too and did think about it because she went up to the guy and asked if he could check for an empty seat for me. He found one. So I got to enjoy about half the concert. I felt bad that we had to be separated but she was more concerned about me having a good time because she had already seen Metallica before. Metallica sounded great. And they looked great on the video screens. But they were about as big as ants from the platform. Wasn’t nearly as close to the stage as the other stage and platform.

So, with my body broken, I was able to say I had seen Metallica. Kinda. Then we had to make the long and arduous trek back to the car. I was waddling by the time we got to it because my pain was so bad. Did you know they had ADA shuttles? We didn’t either, until we were already halfway to the car.

So, the company was excellent. The organization left some to be desired. If I go to see Metallica again I would prefer it to be somewhere with assigned seating and then I can pay out the ass to have a close seat where I can also sit down if need be. My ex added me to a group on Facebook about Louder than Life and their ADA facilities. I have yet to post there. He said that ADA has always had issues since the beginning of the festival.

[ranger-jedi-knight]

Angel Wings Darken Part 4

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26286832/chapters/64065646

Ok, so here’s the next part!! We get to see Gab’s, Nat’s, Sabine’s, and Tom’s reaction~!

“-I’m helping Joker. and Hawkmoth, Mayura, if you know what's good for you, leave your miraculous at my balcony unless you want to see what a protege of Joker can do,” ice filled Gabriel’s veins as he heard that. Nathalie froze behind him, her tablet falling from her numb fingers. They barely heard the crack over the buzzing in their ears as they watched her lips turn into a sinister smile. They barely were able to register what was happening on the screen in front of them.

It wasn’t until the screen froze on the retreating back of Marinette, Damian, and Chloe were they able to move.

“Sir, what are we going to do?” Nathalie asked shakily as in the corner of the screen they watched the comments blow up in confusion and fear and anger. “Y-you know what the Joker can do. If-if he really did turn her evil, what could she do to us that’s worse than following her demands?” Nathalie asked, somehow only stumbling a couple of times.

Gabriel’s eyes couldn’t leave the screen as TViNews popped up with an enlarged picture of Bug’s sinister smile. He barely heard the news anchor-Prime Queen he realized-talking. He couldn’t turn away from the grin or cold eyes. He felt trapped by them, feeling like they were staring directly at him, like she could see what he was doing right then.

And he didn’t like that feeling at all.

“W-e need to first deal with the press. Act like we were being tricked. Send out a public apology and cut any and all ties to Ms. Rossi. As for Adrien, I’m not sure. One thing for sure, we can’t use him as a model anymore. Make sure any lawyer contacted to help Adrien, whether our own or a public servant, knows to comply with the plaintiff’s wishes. We do not want this excelating any further.”

“Sir?”

“What?” he demanded looking over at her with a glare as his thoughts ran around trying to ignore the threat Bug gave him. He was trying to process this, trying to understand how his greatest foe was the same person as the one he tried getting akumatized and also working for him. He just couldn’t see how Ladybug = Marinette. They seemed like entirely two different people.

But alas.

It was true.

“Should we do what she asks, sir?” Gabriel turned back to the screen grimacing when he heard her cackle as someone analyzed the footage again. Seeing her grin once more, his skin started crawling. I never knew someone one so heroic and kind could be so chilling and disturbing, he thought tensing up.

“I need some time to think. For now, do what I said. The longer we say nothing, the bigger a risk we have of the public turning against us and tanking our stocks. We can’t have that that happen,” he snapped out and Nathalie startled but nodded, bending over to pick the cracked tablet before going to her desk quickly.

As soon as the door closed, Gabriel held his head in his hand, messing up his carefully done hair as pins ran throu him. “God have mercy,” he whispered.

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

They couldn’t believe it….

Their baby….

a monster.

But maybe….maybe they could get her back?

Surely, if they talk to her they could get her to go back to being their precious baby girl. Their kind, helpful daughter.

Yeah.

They can do that. Talking to their daughter, telling her how much they miss her, that’ll surely get her to come back to her senses. With a determined look, the two went back to work, listening as the people that came into the bakery gossiping about what happened.

“-Yes, you heard that correctly, Paris. Mayor Bourgeois and the Board of Education are having the students involved in the attack come back to Paris by tomorrow. Mayor Bourgeois is having his daughter Chloe stay behind to try getting Marinette Dupain-Cheng, also known as Ladybug, to come back to Paris. Will she succeed? Stay tuned to learn if she did,” Nadja’s voice startled them as they worked. They turned when they heard the repeat. The class photo was on the screen showing a time that was an estimate of when the Mayor hoped to get the class back in Paris.

When talking about Chloe and the girl they used to see as their daughter-but they hoped they could get her back- they showed a picture of the two at the park across from them beaming. They scowled at the image.

At the reminder.

It was all her fault.

Had Chloe stayed away…

Their darling daughter wouldn’t have changed. As soon as Marinette got back, they were going to keep her away from that girl.

Away from the girl that turned her into that monster.

Lila may have lied about some things, but she was correct that their daughter had changed. But they were going to change her back.

Marinette didn’t have a choice.

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

“Sir, she’s here,” Nathalie called showing him the footage of the plane landing. It was a private jet. The same one Chloe posted a selfie with saying they were going to Paris for the lawsuits. It was early. No doubt most everyone would be home getting ready or asleep.

“We have no choice. Take them. Put them on her balcony,” Gabriel said with a defeated sigh as he gestured to the broaches and book.

“Even the book, sir?” She had a look of shock on her face, even when he nodded again.

“Yes, even the book. There’s no point in keeping it if we don’t have the miraculouses. I need to give up. I can’t win. And I doubt she’ll want to revive Emilie after everything that’s happened. When you get back we’ll finally put her to rest,” he said with a sigh, glancing at the portrait behind him.

“Of course, sir,” she picked up the items, Dusuu and Nooru floated next to her as they left his office. Reaching the bakery, she went to the side next to an alley and held the broaches loosely in one hand and held the book out. “Goodbye,” she muttered softly and the two kwami looked at her sadly, but they were happy to finally be free. Together, they put their broaches on the book and then carried the book up. When she saw that they were over the railing, Nathalie turned away. She could only sigh as she sat in the car heading back to Agreste Manor.

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

Sabine smiled when she watched the footage of Marinette’s plane landing. “Tom, she’s here!” she called out and Tom nodded heading to the front. They watched as Marinette transformed and swung away from the airport. Closing up the shop, they made their way to the courthouse. Lots of people were trying to get in, but because they were the parents of Marinette, the witness here, they were let in.

All they could feel was shock.

They couldn’t believe the look their daughter had on her face.

As she watched Lila be chained to her seat. They didn’t even hear the added charges to Lila’s case. They couldn’t hear anything. Buzzing was the only thing they could hear. When Marinette left after hearing that everyone was guilty, they followed after her. Sabine caught her daughter's arm before she left the steps. “Marinette.”

Marinette turned with an icy look. She held no warmth in her eyes looking between her mother and father. “What?” she asked, watching as Damian and Chloe came closer to them.

“What? What do you mean ‘what’? We’re your parents Marinette. Aren’t we allowed to talk to you? You must have been terrified when the Joker took you. Surely now that your safe from him, you can drop this act? Go back to being our baby girl. You’re safe now. There’s no need to be scared of him anymore,” Sabine said and Tom came up behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders.

“Ha!” she ripped her arm from Sabine’s grip with a scornful laugh. “You truly don’t know me at all if you think I’m scared of Joker,” she started but then turned away and started walking down the steps, Chloe and Damian coming to her sides. While he was still apprehensive, he knew she wasn’t going to hurt anyone that didn’t deserve it.

“Marinette! Come back here!” Sabine shouted, unaware of the people gathering to watch.

“Sweetie, you can be honest with us. No need to pretend,” Tom tried and Marinette whipped around to glare at the two. The couple froze from where they had started to move, their bodies acting like they were statues instead of living, breathing people.

“There’s no pretending here. You’re just in denial about the truth. That I never will, and never have been the daughter you think I am in your heads. Joker….he’s many things, but he showed me the truth. He helped me realize that I’m done taking people’s crap. I won’t let anyone walk over me again. Nor take advantage of me. I’m done with that. He helped me become the person I’m meant to be. See, I finally have all the miraculous back. Right where they’re meant to be,” she said, holding her hand out to show the two inactive miraculouses. “If your done with your delusions, I need to head off.”

“No! We are your parents and you will listen to us!” Sabine yelled as Marinette took another step down. Marinette didn’t even turn around, just turned so that they had the profile of her face.

“You haven’t been parents to me since I was 10. Stop lying to yourselves” she replied coldly before walking toward the bakery to pack up, leaving the two sputtering in their spots as people around them glared and muttered as they walked away.

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

She looked around her old room, seeing if she left anything that she wanted or needed. Old photos decorated the floor while most were in the trash. The mannequin stayed in its place, but the stylized ‘M’ was ripped up and destroyed. Her computer was turned to the side and off, showing the ports. The flash drives used were in her purse. The few remaining wall decorations were in boxes. The chaise and umbrella were gone, already being packed into the jet beside her rug and mirror. The vanity was cleared of everything, it’s drawers left open showing the plain wood inside.

Her desk was bare of all her sewing equipment and organization cabinet. Her bed sheets were packed with her clothes. All that was left was what was originally there: the desk, vanity, the mattress, and trash can(well she wasn’t going to bring it, she took it from the kitchen). But she wasn’t going to take them. She didn’t care about them. They were easily replaced. Dust and dirt littered the ground right beside the photos.

The only photos she took were the ones on her phone and a few baby pictures. She didn’t want the others. They were a reminder of all the sheep she had surrounded herself with.

She didn’t want sheep in her new place. Picking up the last box which contained all her sketchbooks, she left her old home.

“Marinette!” a voice shouted and Marinette looked around the street. Most people were either working or just avoiding her, knowing they couldn’t do anything to change her mind. But then her eyes landed on Jagged and Penny, coming over to her from their limo.

“Uncle Jagged?” she asked confused and Jagged beamed at her.

“How’s my rockin’ niece? I just got caught up on what happened,” Jagged said and Marinette bit her lip. Her eyes softened when she looked between their matching looks of concern.

“I’m fine, Jagged. Thank you thou,” she said, handing the box to Damian when he appeared at her side.

“Where are you going?” Penny asked looking at the boxes in the limo Chloe had brought.

“Leaving. Moving to Gotham,” she replied looking away.

“Your parents?” Penny asked, her tone neutral toward the couple. Thou, watching Marinette scowl at the question, Penny frowned.

“I don’t need them. They’re delusional. Want me to be someone I’m not,” she bit out, gnashing her teeth together.

“Say, your heading to Gotham?” Jagged asked and Marinette nodded. Getting the confirmation, Jagged beamed at her. “That’s my home town! You can live with me and Penny!” he offered and Marinette had a small smile on her lips.

“Marinette-” Penny started and leaned in not wanting anyone to overhear. When she pulled back, Marinette was beaming at the two and started nodding frantically. All Penny could do was smile softly at the girl when she did that.

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

“Well, we’re never getting her to work here now,” Gabriel said watching the screen. TViNews was showing Marinette walking out of the courthouse beaming between Jagged and Penny Stone. Announcing her as their new daughter. Behind the three were Sabine and Tom, scowling as they watched them walk down the steps.

“How does it feel to be adopted by Jagged Stone?” Nadja asked with a smile that Marinette returned as her eyes closed with a laugh bubbling out of her.

“Amazing. He’s already been calling me his niece! I know he and Penny will be the best parents I could ask for!” she replied, causing the couple to smile and hug her tightly as Nadja continued to ask questions that he ignored, looking over at Nathalie.

“That does seem to be the case, sir. Seems like you should look elsewhere. We both know Jagged won’t let just anyone work with her,” Nathalie replied and Gabriel sighed with a nod as he turned off the monitor.

“Adrien?”

“He’s in his room. He hasn’t done much since the lawsuit. Luckily our stocks are still going strong. Our investors are very forgiving it seems and are ignoring what Adrien and Lila have done.”

“Good, good. Just like I hoped. Now, go start searching to see if there are any aspiring designers. I want any you find on my desk as soon as possible.” “As you wish, sir,” Nathalie said with a slight bow before leaving the room.

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

“You’re really ok with this B?” Dick asked, looking at Bruce closely. Bruce turned to give his sons a look.

“I can’t exactly stop her, now can I?” he asked and the three boys looked away at that. “Look, I’m not really ok with it. Joker managed to get Mari to work with him. Who would be ok with that? But we have to face the facts. We can’t stop her from doing that. All we can hope is that she doesn’t do anything horrible with Joker,” he said with a sigh, leaning back against his chair while Dick, Jason, and Tim shuffled their feets against the ground.

“I knew we should have done something to that mad-man,” Jason muttered and Bruce didn’t have the heart to scold him. Since it could very well be true.

“Maybe….maybe not thou,” Dick said and Jason turned to him confused.

“How can you say that? That psychopath turned Marinette to the dark side!”

“Yes….and no,” Tim spoke up that time and Jason whirled around to glare at Tim who managed to tilt his head back to look Jason in the eye in defiance.

“What did you say?” Jason demanded.

“Yes and no. Marinette may be working with that psychopath, but she wouldn’t do the same things as him. Whether we like it or not, he did get Marinette to stand up for herself. She’s finally speaking up against the harassment, the bullying, the negligence. All because of Joker. Yes he did it throu making her think she doesn’t have us on her side, but we can show her we are still standing behind her. And maybe….just maybe….she could get Joker to stop killing people,” Tim explained with a sigh.

“You really think that?” Dick asked, looking slightly disbelieving at the thought. Tim just shrugged at the question.

“I can’t say for certain. But we can hope,” he replied and that had the two nodding.

“Fine. But the moment Marinette does something deranged with him, you can’t stop me,” Jason replied and they could only nod. But they didn’t bother saying that he’d most likely have to get in line since Damian would probably be doing that first.

“Let’s get ourselves cleaned up finally. Damian and Marinette should be landing soon, it would be best we show her she has us as soon as she lands,” Bruce said and the boys nodded, moving to their rooms to do exactly that.

Ok, so here it is! I hope you enjoyed this!! And maybe….one day i’ll do a part 5. Who knows. Cause I don't. I didn’t think I'd be doin this many parts but here I am. There is honestly a good chance you guys can get me into doin one last part. But anyways, the next fic will another Dark!Mari fic! After that….maybe ‘A New Hero’ will be updated. We’ll see. Until next time!! -Love Willa<3<3<3

[austennerdita2533]

A/N: Hey @commonxcrimminals​ remember that Melendaire Fix-It-Of-Sorts fic I’ve had on my computer since freaking MARCH?? Well...I finally finished it!  CAN YOU BELIEVE. Anyway, were it not for your oodles of encouragement or our constant why-did-Melendez-have-to-die wailing sessions on every social media platform out there, I probably never would’ve summoned the gall to finish or post the darn thing. So thank you!

This one is dedicated to you, my friend. Love you more than I can possibly convey! ❤️ ❤️

Summary: When it comes to moments of life or death, Neil and Claire learn sometimes one defibrillation of the heart can reset everything.

Also here: (A03)

Enjoy! xx

Defibrillation

The sirens start, red and blue lights cutting through the darkness with speed. Neil’s strapped to a gurney, conscious but barely, with tubes and leads sticking from him like he’s part machine while his eyes fixate on the gray-white swirl of the ceiling.

What’s happened? Where is he? Why the hell does he hurt so much? Right now the blunt ache over his left temple is a trifle compared to the scalpel-like shard that’s been stabbing through his abdomen every two to four seconds and has nausea roaring into the back of his throat with each bump, with each gloved touch that ghosts over his prone form in examination, his vision dotted and blurred and fading…

It’s fading quickly…

…yes…

…f-fading…

…so…q u i c k…ly…

Monitors beep in the background. Softly at first, then louder. Faster. Shorter. Quieter. Steadily the screens track his stats before diving into erratic nonsense that can’t be pieced together as his fists curl into the sheet beneath him, knuckles bumping against a metal railing.

Neil’s eyelids burn, they grow heavy. All he tastes is blood and bile. A mask hangs over his mouth so he can’t talk, can’t call out either, the oxygen cool as it filters through his nostrils, little hairs tickling. He winces once, takes another shallow breath in—and then nothing.

Blackness pops. Noiseless but everywhere. Like a falling curtain, it frays the edges of the world until he can no longer see them.

Coldness slams like a hammer over his chest, pouring, rippling, spreading out with tendrils to invade cell after cell until before he knows it he’s drifting away from time and thoughts and oxygen that won’t hold steady…He’s sinking down, down, down into a rigid stillness that refuses to lift.

But then—

A flurry of movement to his right. Behind his head. Next comes a lot of pronounced clunking, swearing, whispering; perhaps even some harried tearing or unzipping.

No, no, no. Stay with me, pleads a familiar voice from above him in echo. With his head spinning with delirium, however, he’s unable to place who is speaking.

Come on, Neil. Don’t do this, not now. Hold on for me.

He feels distant, detached, like he’s been sunk under water but never went swimming.

Hold on for me, the voice repeats again. Please.

The words are wet and desperate as they land on his chest with two hands that push, and push, his eyes slitting open just wide enough for Claire’s face to float into focus for a moment then out again like a dream, the heel of her palm pounding into him with the force of a tether to keep him there with her, alive, stable - one breath, one blink, one heartbeat at a time.

The fleeting sight of her brings him back. Hair. Scrubs. Hands. Eyes. She brings him back into the pain and into the light. Her relief, that smile—he needs it; it’s a leash yanking him off the ledge of surrender and telling him to fight for another chance to live. To speak. After all, he’s a surgeon, so doesn’t he already know time is a borrowed gift with no guarantees?

Stay with me, Claire says again. And this time, he clings. He clings to her as hard as he can even as the world goes black a second time, his heart still full of too many unsaid things.

She waits for the door to click shut behind her in the stairwell.

Alone on the landing, there are no more voices. No more computers or phones. There are no more charts to read, labs to run, procedures to schedule, or medications to administer.

Wheelchairs stop squeaking through the hallways. Their wheels are no longer sticking to speckled white tiles as they turn the corner and head toward recovery. The smell of brewing coffee in the lounge near OR Four becomes a stale memory because here, and only here, do the demands of the hospital dissolve long enough for Claire to collapse her head into her palms for a moment, and breathe. Just breathe.

She only takes a moment. A second to grapple with the enormity of all that is happening.

Eyes closed, thoughts scattered, her fingers coil around something metal in her pocket and idle.

Her thumbnail traces sleek edges, silver grooves. A chain droops over her knuckles and scratches. Soothes. Familiarity tingling with each pass.

It’s a cross she fists in the quiet gloom. A token. Some beat-up trinket of her mother’s she couldn’t part with after her death so she’s taken to carrying it with her like a talisman even though she hasn’t believed in anything, or in anyone, for a long time. Not for years and years. Not until him, that is.

Neil.

He’ll be fine, Claire assures herself with a nod and a sniff. He’ll be okay.

The scan results sit in a folder next to her feet, still in need of a consult, still in want of a surgical scheme. The words “stable but critical” float in her periphery then flicker out again like a nightmare that won’t fade.

He needs to be okay, she thinks. Cold bites into her palm as she squeezes then releases, squeezes then releases, her pinky tracing the divots the pendant leaves behind on her skin.

He has to be.

Slowly, organically, Neil has chipped away at her walls to become a fixture in her life and she likes him there. Needs him there. She realizes she’ll do anything to keep him around, to keep him close to her for as long as she can.

So believer or not, Claire bows her head. She closes her eyes tighter and lets faith bleed from her heart straight into her hands.

Clutching her mother’s cross to her breast, begging for the strength and the skill to save him so they can have more time to bowl badly or laugh the night away over beers, so she can have the chance to say the words she already feels, she utters an urgent plea into the space around the stairs.

Claire wishes so hard for him to live that the words flutter as they take wing. They transform into symbols of her hope and despair:

A fossil in the air.

A sob with feathers.

A scream leeching from her compressed lips like a prayer.

.

.

.

Neil wakes with his head bandaged, his abdomen dissected with stitches, and a tuft of curly softness blanketed over his arm.

Squinting against the harsh hospital light, he sits up. Allows himself to adjust. To take in his surroundings.

Currently he lies flat in bed. A central line coils up his arm. His head pounds, and his mouth is dry. Wrapped in scratchy sheets, in sticky gauze and bandages, he notices the curtains are pulled shut for privacy and that there’s a woman fast asleep in the space beside him.

The first thing he does is smile. The second thing he does is tremble, relief as well as gratitude pricking the corners of his eyes.

The sight of Claire snoring and pillowed against his side overwhelms him so much that he shifts to brush his hand over the crown of her head without thinking. His touch, both featherlight and timid because he’s worried she’s a mirage on the verge of disappearing, petrified that one wrong move will shatter the reality of this moment like glass, Neil cups her cheek in his palm and he marvels—he savors.

He loses himself in the pure simplicity of touch. The chaste pleasure of it. Tracing the curves of her face with his thumb until she wakes.

“Hey there, sleepy head. Nice to see you again,” he whispers as her eyelids flicker open.

“Hey, you. Welcome back,” she stirs groggily and yawns. “Can I get you anything? Pillows? Blankets? Meds? Here, let me—”

Claire makes to move, to fuss over him, but she stops when Neil shakes his head, holding her in place with a look, with a languid stroke of his fingers along her jawline. Relenting, she softens enough to desist fidgeting. Then leans into his palm to ask, “How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

“Fine?” she balks, sitting up. “Don’t lie.”

“I’m not. Though, I do have the sneaking suspicion I was autopsied in my sleep for spare parts,” he jokes, wincing, “but otherwise I’m not bad. Fuzzy. Sore mostly. And you?”

“I’m okay, I guess. You know…considering.” Her shoulders heavy, Claire shrugs as she averts her gaze to check his fluids and vitals on the monitor, exhaling like she’s been holding in a breath for years. “Anyway, I’m much better now that you’re out of surgery.”

“—Not to mention conscious.”

“Right.”

“And talking again,” Neil adds glibly.

“Yeah,” she laughs but it falls flat. “That, too.”

“How long have I been out, by the way?” It’s a pointed question. Uncomfortable. Painful for them both to address because of all the might have been’s and almost was’s it carries with it, but he needs to know. He has to be in possession of all the facts.

Turning toward the window, Claire adjusts the blinds and swipes at her face, hiccupping back some stray emotion she doesn’t want him to see. “It’s been a while," she explains. Doesn't elaborate.

“Oh.”

“Yeah," she says, her voice small. “Things were touch and go for a few days.”

“I see.” A beat of strained silence. Then another. And another. He’s starting to notice the weariness she wears about her person now: the paleness, her rimmed complexion, the wrinkles in her clothes. He even recognizes the remnants of a few to-go lattes in the trash bin. It makes him wonder how many hours she’s spent camped out in this room while he recovered—weighing the odds. Pouring over charts. Pacing the floor while she waited for signs of life that weren’t guaranteed, or worse, might not have been coming at all.

“Hey, Claire?” he breaks in softly.

“Hm?”

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

Startled and sobering, she turns. Sits back down on the edge of the bed. “For what?” she asks.

“Nearly dying to start,” Neil says with a sigh. “For the cowardice I’ve been hiding behind. For not knowing one-sided conversations aren’t all they’re cracked up to be, or that living inside your own head lands you nowhere except in hell.

“I’ve been stupid and careless… wasted so much time. I’m a fool for not having told you I’m in love with you sooner, for one,” he continues huskily, his voice breaking around emotion and a smile when she gapes back at him in disbelief. “But I am. In love with you, that is. Have been for a while.”

Claire’s eyes are red and glassy now. Her head has fallen during his speech to make a pillow of his chest, a place from where she blinks even and level back at him. Studying him as if he were a scientific specimen.

Still, there’s a warmth about her that puts him at ease. Her attentiveness is a balm that makes him stronger and bolder even though he has no reason to be.

Shrugging, Neil offers a slight upward quirk of his mouth before adding, “I could have lost you. Best to just—lay it all out there at this point, don’t you think?”

The sentimentality behind his choice of words is not lost upon him but he finds there’s no point in discretion now. There is nothing dumber to him than chasing back courage with fear when he knows how he’s ended up here, and why. There has to be a reason he’s come back to this world. To this hospital. To this moment. And to her.

There has to be.

He believes there’s a future out there where they can hold happiness in both hands, he feels it like a scalpel pressed against an artery. All they have to do is be brave enough to make a grab for it. Mark the incision. Cut the damn thing wide open and let possibility bleed where it bleeds.

“If you don’t realize I love you, too,” Claire sniffs at long last, trying to sound droll and unaffected, though not quite managing it with tears spilling down her cheeks, “then you’re an idiot.”

“An idiot, huh?”

“The biggest.”

“Right.” He considers this seriously. “Got it. Now, can you rate that on a scale of 1 to 10 for me, please?”

Snorting, she fires back without missing a beat, “Sure. Try infinity.”

Neil laughs at that. Then, with undisguised tenderness, he frames Claire’s head in his hands and pulls her toward him by the nape until she’s tangled in sheets and IV wires with him. To hell with the pain.

“Well then. Let’s see if I can do something to lower that number, Dr. Browne,” he says before capturing her mouth in an overdue kiss to cinch things between them with chemistry. With feeling. Jumpstarting their hearts like a defibrillator that will reset everything.

That one kiss, as it turns out, marks the first step towards being able to forge a future together. A start. To them, it comes to represent just that: a new beginning.

[scrunchyharry]

RIP WIP: if you see this post, respond with a snippet of a fic you (sadly) won’t be completing.

So, this inspired me to go through my google drive and unearth this fic that I’ll most likely never finish. I haven’t touched it since March 2014, so, you know. I might as well have not written it myself.

meet this 1950s, Oxbridge, shy librarian worker meets bad boy AU that almost was. the title of this google doc was “kill your darlings - library sexcapades”, so you can see where my mind was. I was in library school, I’d just gone to see Kill Your Darlings in theatres, it was so predictable, really. reading through it earlier, I realize that I used many of the underlying ideas I had for this fic in fondre ton absence, which I first started only two months after I abandoned this one (and I only posted it in 2019, I know.)

I abandoned it because, if I remember correctly, it was only my second ever historical AU (the first one wasn’t in this fandom, it’s a glee fic, if you bully me enough I can provide a link) and I really, really struggled with it, not only with keeping it free of anachronisms, but also relevant to 1950s British culture rather than American culture, which I am more familiar with as a Canadian. I vividly remember panicking when I couldn’t figure out if Brits went bowling in the 1950s, or even now???? we had different problems in ye olde days before the pandemic, hm?

now, of course, I’ve come to love the pain of researching historical AUs, it’s literally the only thing I’ll write, but 6 years ago was a different story. also, I’m not in grad school anymore, so I have more free time. this helped a lot with fleshing out my fics, this whole “no longer being in university” thing (that I say while being 5 years out of university and now only posting a single fic per year).

anyway. enough from me. here’s the fic. it’s 6500 words long and stops abruptly.

Lying awake in his bed, Harry listened to the steady pitter-patter of the rain hitting the windowpane, the yellow streetlamp outside his dormitory room’s window casting distorted shadows on the floorboards as it filtered through the water running down the glass and the sheer curtains. On the other side of the room, Niall was fast asleep, his breathing regular and slightly wheezing from the cold he’d caught playing football out in the rain the day before. Every six or seven inhale, he’d snore loudly, rousing Harry from the half-sleep he had managed to slip into. Staring at the ceiling, Harry was trying to tell the shadows of the bare tree branches from the cracks in the off-white plaster. The room smelled dank like the rest of the building, the wood creaking and beads of water oozing from the walls from the rain that had been plaguing them for close to a week.

Harry turned on his side, wincing as his joints ached in the cold, humid air of the room, Niall’s congested nose asking for the window to be left ajar, which only let more humidity in. His bedsheets were moist and stuck to his skin in a way that made him feel queasy and promised to rob him of sleep for the entire night.

From somewhere down the hall came a peal of laughter, the sound piercing through the still night air and drifting to Harry’s ears. The sound was almost comforting, breaking through the oppressing bubble of his insomnia to remind him that he was not stranded, or alone. There were other people alive, other people asleep in the rooms next and above and below his, and the sun would rise even if it was behind grey clouds, and not being able to sleep was not the end of the world, no matter how it felt as he lay in his bed, restless and exhausted. 

He reached for his alarm clock, the bells quietly chiming as he moved it, and he frowned when he saw that it was half past three. He had to be up in four hours, hours which he knew he wouldn’t sleep. With a final sigh and a resentful glance at the sprawled shape of Niall, Harry rolled out of bed and grabbed his dressing gown, a plaid atrocity his sister had given him as a joke two Christmases past. 

The hallway was quiet as he made his way down to the creaking staircase, holding on to the railings as he went down so his slippers didn’t skid on the polished wood. He nodded at the night guardian reading a library copy of A Christmas Carol, his feet up on the desk by the double, windowed entrance doors.

“I’ve still got two more days to read this, haven’t I?” the man asked, lowering the book to squint at Harry in the dimness of the hallway.

“Three, sir,” Harry replied, hands deep in the pockets of his robe and shoulders slumped forward as a shiver ran through him. He could smell the fireplace burning from the common room and yearned to reach it soon. 

“Greg, give Harold a break, will you? He’s not working right now,” Zayn said, appearing out of the dark hallway and stopping by Harry’s side. “It’s already tedious enough to watch you read a Christmas novel in November, don’t make it worse on us by bothering poor Harry here about his job in the middle of the night.”

With a wink to Harry, Zayn dropped a pack of cigarettes on the guardian’s desk before walking past him again, back where he had come from, a quick nod inviting Harry along. He followed and closed thankful eyes as he crossed the common room’s threshold and was met by a wall of warm, dry air.

“Liam’s nicked logs from the hall across campus,” Zayn explained as he slouched in an armchair by the fire.

“Bless him,” Harry said, sitting opposite Zayn, close to the hearth. He extended his feet and let the flames warm them, feeling as if every crackle eased his weariness from the past few days.

September had been a neverending blur of mixers and social events to try and make friends as quickly as possible before it was too late and you were relegated to the ranks of social outcast. By the time October rolled by, Harry had managed to be late in all of his classes and had found himself locked in the library even when he did not have to work, his entire universe reduced to the dusty smell of books and ushed voices whispering about classnotes and midterms. On most nights he had to stay up well into the early hours, the grey light of dusk filtering through his foggy mind like through dirty glass as he tried to read three novels at once. Now that midterms were over, he had hoped he might be able to sleep while he counted down the days until finals, but he had managed to well and truly mess up his sleep rhythm. 

“No offence, mate, but you look like shit,” Zayn commented after a while, startling Harry out of his most-welcomed doze. 

Rubbing his eyes, Harry let out a small laugh. “Can’t sleep.”

“I know a guy--”

“No, thanks,” Harry cut him, not unkindly. 

Zayn always knew a guy, who knew a guy, whose brother could get you whatever you needed. He himself took nothing, keeping a record as straight as his ridiculously white teeth; scholarship kid, they said. Harry knew better than that, because he was one himself and had never seen Zayn at any of the disastrous mixers the financial aid office tried to organize. Besides, scholarship students were expected to work on campus, which Zayn did not do. He always seemed to be drifting from place to place, black hair carefully styled so that a swirl appeared to carelessly fall on his forehead and jacket nonchalantly hanging off his shoulder like something out of a magazine, without a care in the world. Harry figured it was the sort of attitude you had to adopt when you had a name like Zayn Malik. Not that Harry gave a damn about any of that, but, to put it mildly, it was not because people were quick to point a finger at Germany for what they had let happen that they were willing to face their own ignorance. In short: people whispered, and all of this despite the thick Northern accent that surprised the wits out of Harry the first time he heard it come out of Zayn’s mouth.

“It’s not healthy, though, is it? You should go see a nurse or something about it, you can die from sleep deprivation.”

Blinking slowly, Harry stared at his oldest friend on campus silently for a moment. “I hope you never make it into medical school, you’re going to be a shit doctor. ‘You can die from sleep deprivation,’ you tell the insomniac at four in the morning.” With a long sigh, Harry shook his head. “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean that.”

Zayn laughed. “Don’t worry, mate, I’ve heard worse. Have you met Louis?”

Harry rolled his eyes at Zayn. “Yes,” he replied despite knowing that this was a rhetorical question. “I know Louis.”

He shifted in his seat. Mentions of Louis had the pesky side-effect of making Harry’s stomach churn uncomfortably. He ran a hand through his hair, tugging slightly at the curls as he yawned. He watched as Zayn light a cigarette and shook his head when offered one, instead pulling his legs up on the chair and curling up in it, arms wrapped around his knees. 

“Aren’t you going to ask me why I’m still up at this hour?” Zayn asked after discarding his cigarette in a nearby ashtray.

Tearing his eyes from the fireplace, Harry blinked slowly at him. “Do you want to tell me?”

Flashing him a wicked grin, Zayn winked. “A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.”

Harry rolled his eyes again. “I should have seen this one coming.”

“But you didn’t and that’s why we love you, Harold.” Zayn stretched and got up, picking his jacket off the back of the armchair and shrugging it on. “With this, I’m off to bed.” With a pat to Harry’s head, he headed out of the room.

“Goodnight!” Harry called after him before turning back to the fire, resting his chin on his knees with a sigh.

Harry considered following after Zayn for a moment, but the thought of his cold room made him wince. Instead, he carefully placed more wood into the hearth and pulled the armchair closer. He wrapped his dressing gown tighter around himself and then closed his eyes, turning his face to the warmth with a smile as his thoughts drifted through his memories.

The first time he had seen Louis did not technically count as the first time he had met him. His first glimpse of him had been a fleeting one: a knock at the door of his room and the flash of a crooked grin before a sharp voice called Niall out and the door slammed shut. It had been a whirlwind of sights and sounds, there and gone in a matter of seconds, and promptly discarded as one of Niall’s many boisterous friends.

The first time he met Louis, on the other hand, had made a much stronger impression. Harry had been working the counter at the library, alternating between reading a novel he kept hidden under the desk and staring off into space, eyes on the specks of dust as they drifted through the sunbeams pouring in from the tall windows. It had started with a gust of autumn wind sweeping into the room as someone threw opened the heavy oaken doors, causing the occupants of the library to look around in disgruntled curiosity. Harry himself had found himself craning his neck to try and see who was the utter idiot who was entering a library like it was a barn.

Louis had come running at top speed, muddy wingtips squeaking and skidding on the linoleum and his opened jacket flying behind him. He braced himself on a table as he took a sharp turn to the left and headed towards the counter, vaulting it and crouching down before Harry could stop him. He had stared down at him silently, blinking slowly, until the boy had pulled him down by the front of his shirt so he would kneel next to him.

“You can’t stay here,” Harry had said lamely, feeling ashamed of the yelp he had let out as he looked at the red-faced, breathless boy still holding his shirt in his fist.

“Hi, I’m Louis,” the boy had said, letting go of his shirt to extend his hand for Harry to shake.

“You can’t stay here,” Harry had repeated, ignoring his hand. “And I’m Harry.”

“I know,” Louis had replied, smirking. “So, I may or may not have dressed the statue outside the principal’s office in a dress. And I may or may not be currently running away from the school security.” He had paused to look up at Harry with big, pleading eyes. “My life depends on you, Harry. Please, hide me.”

“You--what? Why would you do that?”

Louis had squinted at him, an amused smile playing on his lips. “For fun?”

“Well, you can’t stay here, we--”

Louis had shut him up with a hand over his mouth. “Please, Harold. I’ll owe you one.”

“No, I mean, there’s--” Harry had mumbled against his hand, eyes darting to the top of the heads of the guardians he could see coming closer to the counter.

“Harry Styles, I am begging you, please let me hide here.”

Prying Louis’ hand away, Harry had rolled his eyes. “Shut up and listen to me, there are two guards coming over here right now, you need to run.” He wouldn’t be able to tell what took him, but had he found himself adding, in a quick whisper, “I’ll distract them. Go.”

Louis had grabbed Harry’s face to plant a loud, wet kiss on his cheek before repeating in a rush that he owed Harry his life and running back the way he had come.

A month had gone by since their meeting and Harry still winced with embarrassment when he thought back to it. He had looked like a proper fool in front of Louis, who, it turned out, was friends with all of his friends. He always turned up, no matter what they were doing or where they were going, teasing and joking and mocking, always constantly there in Harry’s peripheral vision. He was a third year, the rumour was that he had the lowest average in the history of the university (which made no sense, considering he still managed to pass his classes; besides, Harry had checked in old yearbooks during a quiet afternoon in the library and had found that a certain Lionel Hearst allegedly had the lowest average back in 1931--chances were that each year had their own Lionel Hearst, and the class of 1954 had elected Louis Tomlinson as theirs), and he was quite possibly the most annoying person Harry had ever met.

And there was another problem, a massive one that was threatening to destroy Harry’s sanity: he was gorgeous. Not your inoffensive “I can recognize that, objectively, Humphrey Bogart and James Dean are attractive males”, which Harry could very easily and comfortably live with. No, Louis was the kind of gorgeous that had poisoned Harry’s mind until it was all his twisted mind could conjure whenever he had what a psychology textbook he found in Liam’s room had called ‘nocturnal emissions’. 

When combined, Louis’ irritating personality and Harry’s inability to get him out of his head were a dangerous mix. One that he never missed an opportunity to use, because on a misguided evening, Harry had made the mistake to go out with Niall and had tragically confessed, over his fourth pint, that he was having unbecoming thoughts about Louis. The news had obviously rapidly travelled all the way to Louis’ ears and now it seemed he had made it his mission to make sure Harry never lived his shameful infatuation down.

Not to mention that, well, he was a boy infatuated with another boy. The same psychology textbook had told him that what he was had a name, and that it was diagnosable, and thus curable, but Liam had walked back in before Harry could read exactly what they meant by ‘aversion therapy’. He hadn’t dared ask Liam, not while Louis was sprawled on his bed, smoking with slow drags and slower exhales, winking at Harry whenever their eyes met. 

Louis had asked what Harry was reading and he had mumbled something about insomnia (which had been his first goal, mind you) and a wicked grin had appeared on Louis’ face.

“You were reading about paraphilias, weren’t you, you naughty boy? Which one was your favourite? I’m quite fond of homosexuality myself.”

Zayn had thrown a wrinkled jacket at Louis at that, saving Harry the embarrassment of having to reply by saying through a laugh: “The shit that comes out of your mouth is astounding.”

“It’s not shit! What’s it classified under, again? Payne, help me out.”

Reciting dully, as if he was used to the question - and Harry suspected he was - Liam had rolled his eyes. “Sexual deviations are under personality disorders of the sociopathic subtype.”

“Thanks, mate. I didn’t understand half the words in there, but I like the ring of ‘sociopathic’, don’t you? It makes it sound so dangerous, so ‘I will kill you in your sleep and then shag your corpse’.”

“Someone’s won the roommate lottery,” Niall had said, earning himself a slap upside the head from Liam. 

This particular exchange, and more specifically the image of Louis talking about sexual deviations while lying on a bed like some sort of caricature of a French painting, was running through Harry’s sleep deprived mind as he hurried to his morning class under the cold drizzle that had replaced the rain. He had managed to get a couple of hours of sleep, but had woken up when the fire was out and the room had turned frigid. Going back to his room, he had collapsed on his bed, only to hear his alarm clock ringing what felt like three minutes later. And now, as he hurried up to the fourth floor on the slippery stairs, he realized with a groan he had forgotten to do the assigned readings for the class.

He took his usual seat near the centre of the lecture hall, unpacking his notebook and fiddling with his pen to keep his mind busy and, more importantly, awake. A three hour lecture on Shakespeare was the last thing he needed at the moment, his eyes unable to focus on the board for more than a handful of seconds before they closed heavily, his entire body jerking back as he drifted to sleep and started to fall forward.

The door opened loudly and Harry didn’t have to look to know who had just entered. He always banged doors opened, making his entrance known as if his presence itself wasn’t enough to get him noticed.

“Harold!” Louis’ voice echoed around the half-empty hall, off the wood-panelled walls and the high, off-white ceiling. He was holding a notebook in his hand, the poor thing in tatters like most of what Louis owned. The usual swirl of hair was falling on his forehead, disheveled in a way that felt more genuine than Zayn’s calculated styling, with the sides ruffled and looking mostly unkempt.

Harry waved at him, shifting in his seat as he watched Louis climb the steps up to where he was sitting and make his way to the empty chair next to Harry. He rubbed his eye and braced himself for the tornado of Louis’ personality.

“Hi, Louis,” he said once Louis was settled. “How are you?”

“I’m brilliant. My day’s always off to such a good start when I get to see you first thing in the morning.” He patted Harry’s knee, a smirk on his lips. Harry swallowed around his dry throat. “You, on the other hand, look terrible.”

“Insomnia,” Harry replied with a shrug, stifling a yawn with his hand. “Nothing new.”

“Yeah, I see that, the bags under your eyes are terrifying.” 

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but then forgot to close it as Louis reached up and stroked a thumb under Harry’s eye, lightly touching the paper thin skin. He could wax lyrical about how soft Louis’ skin turned out to be, or how unexpected the touch was, but neither of those things would be right. The fact of the matter was that being touched, stroked, petted or any other synonym describing fond, affectionate physical contact were common when Louis was concerned. That did not mean that Harry was used to it, and he found himself freezing under Louis’ careful finger, his words dying in his throat. 

“It looks like you’ve got shiners,” Louis said, voice quiet and soft. “You have to take better care of yourself, Haz, or else someone will have to do it for you.”

Louis’ fingers were still lightly brushing his cheek, close to his ear, as his thumb moved back and forth, barely touching his skin, and Harry absolutely could not let out any sound resembling modern languages. Instead, he nodded, remembered to close his mouth, and cleared his throat to try and speak. All of his efforts were ruined when Louis patted his cheek and moved back, slipping lower in his seat and winking at Harry when their knees bumped.

Harry blinked to realize that the hall had filled while Louis was busy making him forget English. He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket for his glasses and slipped them on, not missing the pleased noise Louis let out next to him. He glanced at him, frowning.

“Love the glasses, Harold.”

“Me too. They help me see.”

Harry did not particularly consider himself a religious man. He went to church when it mattered and tried not to do unto others what he would not want done unto him, but for the most part, he never really had God at the back of his mind whenever he did something. And yet, as soon as the words were out of his mouth, he wondered what he had done to anger God. His eyes widened and he felt a blush blooming on his cheeks, his skin burning with the shame and embarrassment of his reply. They help me see, way to state the obvious, Styles. Louis was obviously flirting and the only thing he could come up with was bloody “they help me see.”

Louis let out a bark of laughter, pushing his knee against Harry’s. “Good for you, mate. You wouldn’t want to strain those pretty eyes of yours.”

The professor walking in and setting up his papers behind the lectern saved Harry from having to answer. Harry kept his eyes trained on the front of the class for the first hour of the lecture, pointedly ignoring Louis’ constant shifting and squirming around in his seat. Liam often asked if he had ants in his pants, which usually prompted Louis to let out a vulgar joke about what he did have in his pants. It was better if Harry ignored him, then. He was already struggling to keep up with the deadpan droning of their professor, he didn’t need to think about the way Louis’ thigh brushed against his every time he moved. 

The lightbulb closest to the door kept flickering, the rhythm varying from every other second to one every two or three minutes, and Harry found himself captivated by it. The ventilation buzzed in the background, a low metallic rumble pushing moist air into the suffocating hall. A strand of hair had escaped from his comb-over, falling into his eyes and curling from the humidity. He blew on it, watching it rise and fall and repeating the motion over and over again, until Louis elbowed him.

Harry turned to him, bracing himself for a witty remark that would turn him into a blubbering mess, but instead he was met with Louis’ profile, face set and serious as he had his hand raised in the air. Squinting, Harry turned to their professor in time to see him calling on Louis, who lifted his eyebrows, once, before an amused smile curled up his lips.

“Sir, there is something that has been bothering me since I read through the assigned pages last night. See, I can’t quite figure out what Shakespeare meant when he had Aufidius say: ‘Let me twine mine arms about that body, where against my grained ash an hundred times hath broke and scarr’d the moon with splinters,’ and then later when he adds: ‘but that I see thee here, thou noble thing! more dances my rapt heart than when I first my wedded mistress saw bestride my threshold.’”

Louis glanced up from the copy of Coriolanus opened in front of him, several lines underlined in blue ink, to give Harry a wink before looking back down and continuing.

“And when he writes: ‘thou hast beat me out twelve several times, and I have nightly since dreamt of encounters ‘twixt thyself and me; we have been down together in my sleep, unbuckling helms, fisting each other’s throat, and waked half dead with nothing,’ what I don’t understand, sir, is that it sounds to me like Aufidius is courting Marcius, doesn’t it? All this talk of,” Louis glanced down again, “nightly dreams of what sounds to me like some sort of wrestling? All of this leads me to think that there is a certain passion to Marcius and Aufidius’ relationship that you haven’t talked about, yet.”

Louis sat back in his seat, the line of his shoulders disagreeing with the look of candid innocence he had schooled his face into. The entire hall seemed to be waiting with baited breath for their professor’s response, the poor man looking terrified and offended and minuscule in his bulky tweed jacket. His lip quivered, making his grey, toothbrush moustache dance, and he narrowed his eyes at Louis.

“Ignoring Mr Tomlinson’s depraved mind, let’s have a short break. Class will resume in ten minutes.”

Chatter rose around them and Louis shook his head, a look of annoyed resignation on his face.

“I knew he’d do that. I bloody knew it. They’re always too stuck up to address the blatant homoeroticism of the material they assign us.”

Homoeroticism. The word rang in Harry’s ears, filling up his skull and flushing out everything else, leaving him with images of--with images of things he’d rather not put a name on. Of Louis’ lips as they curled into his trademark smirk, of Louis’ spread thighs as he lay on one of their beds, reading out loud from whichever book he had found on the bedside table, of Louis’ eyes and the way they had to always seek Harry’s, but also of older memories. Memories of swimming in a lake with his older cousin as a child and watching the drops of water running down his chest and shimmer in the sun. Locker room memories, a seemingly endless number of them, all strung one after the other in his mind like a neverending series of discomfort and shame as he caught glimpses of changing bodies. Memories of feeling wrong and twisted, an abomination that would bring shame to his family if he said anything.

There was a word for all this, a simple word which Louis uttered like it didn’t carry the weight of the world with it. A word which didn’t sound as ominous as the others did. That word wouldn’t be in Liam’s textbook. That word evoked ideas of art in Harry’s mind, not of therapy.

“Harold? Are you all right? I’ve lost you, here, haven’t I? Wake up, Styles, you’re not in your bed. I understand that it can be confusing for you right now because we all know you see me in your dreams, but--”

“That word you used,” Harry said, cutting him. He cleared his throat and decided it was better to ignore how accurate Louis’ teasing was.

“Which one? You’ll notice I speak quite a lot, so you’ll have to be a bit more specific than that.”

Lowering his voice, Harry leaned in. “Homoeroticism.”

“What about it?”

“It was the first time I heard it. I didn’t know it existed.”

“There are a lot of things you don’t know about.” Louis patted his thigh with a pout. “But don’t worry, I can teach you. I owe you one, remember?”

Harry let out a strangled noise and looked away so he would not have to see Louis’ smirk.

Harry spent the rest of the lecture in a haze, his mind preoccupied with what he tried so hard to ignore during the first half: Louis’ elbow brushing against his on the armrest, their knees bumping when he moved, the sound of his breathing, regular and deep, the way he tapped his pen against his notebook, the muscles in his forearm shifting as he took notes. By the time his torture was over, he realized with horror that he had not listened to a single word of the entire second half of the lecture and he bit his lip. 

“And they say I’m the worst student this school has ever seen,” Louis commented after seeing the blank page that Harry failed to hide.

“I couldn’t concentrate,” Harry explained as he packed his bag hastily and followed Louis to leave the lecture hall.

“You can borrow my notes, don’t worry.” Once out of the hall, Louis turned to walk backwards, eyes on Harry. “Why, though? Why was Harold Styles, scholarship student, not paying attention in class? Thinking about boys, maybe?”

Without thinking about it, Harry lurched forward to put his hand over Louis’ mouth. “Shut up,” he hissed.

Unfazed, Louis lowered Harry’s hand with his, his expression softening. “So, you were? This is an interesting turn of events.” Looking up at Harry, he frowned. “Oh, you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared.” At the sight of Louis raising his eyebrow in disbelief, Harry licked his lips. “I’m terrified.” He glanced around, feeling like all eyes were on the pair of them as they stood in the middle of the hallway and blocked the traffic.

Louis nodded and took Harry’s elbow, dragging him along and out of the building. Outside, pale rays of sunlight were peeking through the clouds and the air felt light for the first time in days. Harry tried to avoid the puddles covering the cobblestones while Louis kept pulling him along, mindful of keeping his socks dry even as an outrageously flirtatious man he barely knew was taking him somewhere unknown.

“Do you have work today?” Louis asked over his shoulder as they crossed the campus towards their dormitory.

“No. Where are we going?”

“My dorm.”

Harry stopped abruptly, causing Louis to stumble forward before he caught himself and turned. “Why?”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to molest you.” Letting go of Harry’s arm, he stepped closer, lowering his voice. “I just thought you’d prefer to talk about your innermost secrets in private. Assuming you want to talk about it?”

Harry looked down at Louis for a moment, unsure of what to do next. Louis held his gaze, eyes wide and earnest, almost begging for Harry’s trust. Gnawing at his lip, Harry breathed in sharply and nodded, making the jump, stepping off the edge of the metaphorical cliff and choosing to trust Louis.

A small smile appeared on Louis’ lips, more subdued than what Harry was used to see, and it warmed up the bottom of his stomach in a way that was not unpleasant.

“Very well. Let us be on our way, then.” 

A sense of dread descended upon Harry as they neared Louis’ room. His nerves were setting in, sparking up, exploding in bright flashes of what felt a lot like terror at the prospect of the conversation he was about to have and of its ramifications. Thinking it was one thing, admitting that he was thinking it was another, but voicing it was in the realm of impossibilities. The door shut behind them with a quiet click and then they were alone, shielded. Louis sat backwards on his desk chair and motioned for Harry to sit on his bed before he folded his arms and raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

“Harry, tell me. How long have you known?” His voice was quiet and soft, so unlike Louis’ usual loud squawks that it eased Harry’s nervousness, if only partially. 

Harry found that he could not look at Louis’ face and he let his gaze drift to the wall behind him, hung with pennants in the colours of Liam’s favourite teams. He brought a hand up to scrape his teeth against the knuckle of a finger, a nervous habit he’d been trying to get rid off for years. He could feel Louis’ steady gaze on him and he swallowed thickly, breathing out.

“I don’t know.” He forced his eyes back on Louis, briefly, to see him frowning. “How long have you known?”

“That I’m gay?” Harry winced at the word and it made Louis smirk. “Summer 1943, there was this bloke billeted at a neighbour’s house. He’d pop by to play with my sisters and I some times and I’d seen him almost every day for months, but that one particular day, he helped my mother with gardening and took off his shirt because of the heat. It changed my life.” He chuckled and scratched his cheek. “I was twelve. I spent the entire day in my bedroom, watching him from the window, absolutely confused about what was happening. I thought I was ill.”

“What’d you do?”

Louis shrugged. “I masturbated, obviously. That was a first. What a day.”

Heat spread on Harry’s face, bright red spots blooming on his cheeks at the words, and he muttered a scandalized ‘oh, my god’ that made Louis laugh. 

“Have you never?” Louis asked, giving Harry a curious smile. “Have you really never touched yourself?”

Putting a hand over his eyes, Harry groaned. “Of course, I have, but I don’t talk about it with everyone,” he blurted out, ashamed.

“Why not? You have to stop listening to your minister, kid. It’s perfectly normal, everyone does it.”

Harry shook his head and wiped his sweaty hands on his trousers. He could not remember having ever been as uncomfortable as he was in that instant. His nerves were raw and he felt too hot and too cold at the same time, safe and cloistered at once in the cramped dorm room. Looking at Louis, he found him observing him with a steady expression. Harry appreciated that he was not pushing for answers despite his obvious curiosity. He didn’t feel pressured to answer, but the possibility was there, hanging in the still, humid air between them. It was his choice to seize it and, with a shaky sigh, he did.

“I’ve always had, hum, suspicions that I wasn’t normal. I can’t--” he waved his hands around, “--put words on it, or tell you about specific incidents, but I’ve been having doubts since grammar school.”

“You’re normal.” There was an unexpected fire behind Louis’ words that made Harry frown.

“You can’t be serious. You heard Liam the other day, we’re sociopaths.”

Louis rolled his eyes, digging in his pockets for a cigarette. He placed it between his lips and cracked a match to light it, eyes on Harry through the rising smoke. “Do you feel like a sociopath?”

Harry shrugged. “Not particularly.”

Blowing smoke, Louis raised his eyebrows. “There you go. You’re not. Simple as that. Admitting a bloke needs to have his hands tied above his hands to be able to come, would you say he’s a sociopath?” When Harry shook his head, Louis continued. “But that’s still a paraphilia, ergo he’s mental. We’re not perverts, we just love differently. That’s how I see it, anyway.”

Harry licked his lips and nodded, transfixed by Louis’ verve. “And they say you’re the worst student of your year.”

Louis laughed, sharp and clear, smoke coming out of his nostrils. “I’ve had a bad freshman year and the reputation, sadly, stuck with me. Of course, I’m not a scholarship kid, so I don’t compare.” He winked a Harry.

“How do you know so many things about me? We’ve rarely spoken.”

Louis laughed again, but the sound was softer, more intimate, in an odd way. “Well...” He rubbed the back of his neck, discarding the butt of his cigarette in a dirty ashtray on his bedside table. “I asked around. You helped me a lot when you befriended Zayn.”

Harry shifted on the bed to rest his back against the wall, kicking his shoes off quickly to pull his knees up against his chest. “Why?”

Louis’ eyes widened, almost comically, before he shrugged. “Curiosity. You looked interesting.”

[thats-how-i-role]

Sea Salt By The Sea Shore

A/N: The title was funnier in my head. Also this technically goes with Day 6 but shhhhhh. I had to do research about SNOWBOARDING. Which I surprisingly knew even less about than I thought I did. For the record, this is a halfpipe.

They put in their headphones, swiftly as to not get Amalthea’s attention as she blabbered into. They tuned into the local news station, where the segment had just switched to sports. And once again, as they have been for weeks since the crash, Jem was the top story.

Regan, the stout news anchor began as a photo of Jem holding their first Olympic gold medal appeared next to him on screen. “Folks, today some news that shook the Olympic world to its core was announced. As twenty four year old Jemon Morale, who is known for being last Winter Olympics Gold Medallist in the halfpipe circuit, has announced the fact they are retiring.”

“Now, if you haven’t been following this story, let’s catch you up.” Regan switched to a different camera angle as a new graphic appeared by his face. One of Jem in their snowboarding gear after they qualified for the Olympics when they were nineteen. “Jemon Morale was America’s underdog in the 20xx Winter Olympics, as they rose to the spotlight as being the first ever openly non-binary Olympic athlete. Quickly, they received support particularly in millennial circles, and became an LGBTQ+ icon for the sports community. Although, nobody was expecting them to get gold on their first try- with a twenty to one Vegas odds- Jem succeeded on the half-pipe. Not only becoming the first non-binary gold medallist, but one of the youngest that the Olympic world has seen in the past few decades.”

Another camera angle, another graphic. This one showing Jem on their knees, crying as they were announced the winner of the gold medal. “Throughout the past two years, Jemon had appeared on multiple talk shows, and different sports magazines. As well as promoting brands anywhere between underarmour, and frosted flakes. They quickly became America’s favourite.”

Jem felt Amalthea, a slender woman with strawberry blonde hair and green eyes, tug one of their headphones out. “Jem, are you listening to me?”

“Yeah totally.” Jem replied, eyes still transfixed on the screen.

“What’d I say then?” Amalthea questioned.

“Yeah totally,” Jem answered, completely not paying attention to her.

As another graphic appeared, one with Jem shaking hands with fans right before the qualifiers started for this year. Jem remembered that day so clearly, and yet it felt like so long ago. Regan continued, “because of their massive success, Jem was the favourite to win all the way up to the Olympics. But at the criticized event of the semi-finals, horror struck the world.”

This time, the camera zoomed in on Regan’s face with no graphic. “The winds were high on the day of the semi-finals, where many experts say that it would’ve been safer had the event organizers post-poned the event until the winds had calmed down. Yet in the moment, the event continued. With Jemon’s points putting them in the lead, the final round was approaching.”

The frame had left Regan, showing the live feed their news reporter had caught on camera on that day. Regan’s continued the story through voice over as he narrated what happened, “As you can see, Jemon lined up and took off into the half pipe smoothly. Achieving their first fourteen hundred degree spin on the first jump.” Jem flipped their snowboard around 3 and a half times, flawlessly besides the dismount. The landing was shaky as the wind pushed them farther into the half pipe. “But as Jemon flew up in the air for their second fourteen hundred, tragedy struck.”

Suddenly, present Jem was flashed back into the memory. When they went up in the air, hearing the cheers from their adoring fans. Succeeding on completing the spins, Jem counted in their head. One, two, three, land.

Land. That’s all they had to do. But they couldn’t.

They felt themselves get pushed through the air, further towards the ledge of the halfpipe. Jem went into panic mode, and even though this only happened in a couple seconds, time slowed for them. They curled into themselves, grabbing the top of their snowboard to try and get their legs over the ledge so they could slide down the side of the halfpipe relatively unscathed.

It almost worked too.

Because Jem fell towards the ledge at sixty four kilometres per hour, and their weight easily increased to almost two hundred pounds with all their winter gear, it wasn’t going to be an easy crash in any sense of the word. Jem didn’t work fast enough as their back leg clipped the ledge, bending and snapping the opposite way of their knee. Jem, feeling the pain shoot up to their spine, let go of their board, and they got completely turned around.

All they remember before their head hit and skid down the side of the halfpipe was the pain.

The next thing Jem remembers after the crash was waking up a week later in the hospital, with screws and metal pins in their left leg.

Jem came back to their senses, in the town car as the crash was shown on their phone screen. The video ended after Jem’s face grinded against the snow, shattering their helmet and goggles. The doctors said that they were lucky they didn’t lose an eye. But it was hard for Jem to even imagine that they were lucky as they gazed at their casted leg.

The screen went back to Regan, with a photo of the paramedics loading Jem into their ambulance. “After much deliberation of Jem’s injuries, it was leaked from an inside source that they were going to need to go through extensive physical therapy if they wanted to even walk properly again. The crash left Jem’s hip dislocated, their shin was shattered and their knee was completely torn out of its socket. Not to mention the torn ligaments and strained muscles. All of which were in Jemon’s left leg.”

The next camera angle featured the photo of Jem last night, standing at a podium with press surrounding them. Regan continued with, “Last night, Jemon gave this statement regarding their future in their career.”

Jem didn’t think they looked half as distraught as they did getting up on the podium. Jem began their speech, “Thank you one and all for coming tonight. And thank you for your hopes and prayers for me and my family as we pushed through these trying times over the past couple months. But as my recovery continues, and after getting a second and third opinion from trusted physicians, I am saying that I will never be able to compete again. I will continue my physical therapy in another facility down south. I’m sorry to all my fans,” at this point Jem’s voice began cracking the slightest bit, “I’m sorry to all those who supported me in achieving my dream. And from the bottom of my heart, thank you for making my dream come true. Even for a little while.”

The camera panned back to Regan, who had a solemn look on his face. “A teary eyed statement from Jemon Morale, and what will probably be their last public statement for a long time. I do want to say on behalf of this network, it was a pleasure covering your journey. We wish you all the best. In other news...”

Amalthea had finally ripped the phone out of Jem’s hands, effectively tearing the earbud out of Jem’s ear as well. “What the hell Mal?” Jem yelled, rubbing their ear to soothe the pain.

“You are the worst glutton for punishment I have ever met Morale.” Amalthea criticized, smacking them in the arm. “Anyways, Jimmy Kimmel wanted to to see if you could make it-“

“No.” Jem answered.

Amalthea flicked them in the nose, “I’m not letting you become a hermit down here. People want to hear from you Jem!”

“You’re trying to come up with things so I can keep paying you to do your job.” Jem stated, starting to toy with their cane. “The job which you’re terrified of losing because now that I am a washed up, cold, son of a bitch, I don’t really have a need for you anymore.”

Amalthea gritted her teeth but kept her voice as calm as she could. “I’m trying to give your fans what they want. We used to both want that.”

She stared Jem down to the point where guilt began to weigh in their shoulders. After a moment Jem sighed, “Fine. Set me up with Jimmy in a month, I just got here and don’t want to leave so soon.”

Jem looked out their window, as they passed by a boardwalk. This sunshine state was much different than what Jem was used to. No snow, and a fresh smell of the sea. And with that small inspiration, Jem got an idea.

They knocked on the window separating them from their driver, “Thorne, pull in here. I wanna go for a walk.”

Their driver nodded as Jem unbuckled their seat belt and readied their cane. Amalthea’s eyes widened, but really didn’t want to fight about this. So instead she just said, “Try and be back in ten. And take in some of the sights, maybe it’ll remove the stick shoved up your ass.”

Jem chuckled, opening the door. “Thanks Mal.”

With that, Jem left their town car. The boardwalk was alive with tourists and music. The sun beaming down on everyone was relaxing, although it was quite overbearing for Jem who had spent most of their life surrounded by the snow.

Leaning half their weight on their cane, they made their way up the wooden platform. They silently hoped that the sunglasses on their face would be enough to hide their identity. Although somehow, even here Jem’s face had graced some newsstands. But this was going to be a fresh start for them.

Right?

Wrong.

As they kept to the side of the boardwalk, they watched as the waved floated below them. The sun shining off the ocean was absolutely breathtaking. They couldn’t help but feel like they were at peace. But all good things must come to an end.

“Hey!” Someone shouted at Jem. Jem turned towards the yelling, and saw three, burly men approaching them. “You’re that guy, right? The snowboarder.”

Jem nodded, giving the men a thin lipped smile, “Yep, that’s me. Are you guys fans?”

The aggressive manner in how this man and his friends cornered Jem into the railing was telling them the exact opposite. But the man kept with a large, but obviously sarcastic smile.

“Kind of, give or take.” The man said, taking a puff from his cigarette. “I really thought you had some potential kid. You were truly one of a kind.” There was a moment of silence, that Jem was about to thank the guy in but then he continued, “I even put some money down on you.”

Shit.

Jem put the hand they didn’t have gripping their cane up defensively, “Okay, I see how it is.”

“Do you?” The guy dropped his cigarette on the would and put it out with his boot. “Because, I couldn’t get my son the game he wanted because of you.”

To sass or not to sass, that is the question. And unfortunately for Jem, since their accident they’ve been leaning more towards the former. “Buddy, it sounds like if you couldn’t afford buying something for your kid, then you had no business in putting your money down elsewhere. You cared more about getting more money then making your son happy.”

With that, the guy’s face fell. Fury is becoming etched into his features, but Jem continued. “Your deadend job isn’t paying you enough, or maybe you’re just lazy and refuse to ask for more hours. Maybe you’re just a coward, who thinks it’s unmanly to ask for help.”

Jem laughed to themselves, before delivering the killing blow, “The truth is, you’re emasculated when your pride takes a blow. And because you’re that sensitive, I may not have a gender, but somehow I’m still twice the man you’ll ever be.”

Now, in an hour after all this unfolds if you asked Jem if they regretted their actions here, they’d reply, “no, not really.” Despite any logical person would say yes.

The burly guy nodded to his friends, who immediately closed in on Jem. Jem instinctively tucked their bad leg behind their good one and leaned back towards the boardwalk railing. They deserved this, they know that. So they were gonna roll with the hits.

One of the friends snatched Jem’s cane from them, throwing them off balance. Jem quickly grabbed onto the railing, as the guy with their cane hit them in the stomach with it. Jem’s only response was a grunt.

A crowd began to form around them, some people taking video and Jem knew that surely enough this would be their next headline. The friend took Jem’s cane and tossed it over the side of the boardwalk, into the water. Jem tried to spin around and grab it, as somebody came up from behind Jem and knocked them over.

It was difficult for Jem to process what was happening, even as they went crashing head first into the water. They quickly were able to spin right side up, but couldn’t keep their head above water. Every desperate claw towards the surface, every time they tried to take a gulp of air, it was to no avail.

Jem’s vision began to blur, in a sense it was peaceful. As if this was what Jem was waiting for. After all, hadn’t Jem done everything they were meant to do? Their journey in life was over, their dream destroyed because of one mistake. Everything was over.

Or had it just begun?

Jem felt arms come around them and pull them up towards the surface. They gasped for air, coughing up some of the water. The strong arms wrapped around them gently patted their chest as Jem heaved.

“It’s all right mate, I got you.” The voice said. Jem peeked over their shoulder to see a man, with dark hair and green eyes. Not far off in the distance was a small boat, and Jem felt a small rush through their veins.

Yes, the next adventure had just begun.

[calligraphist-artemisia]

The Smallest Blade (Part xi)

Summary:  AU. Kolivan knew raising a half-Galra cub wouldn’t be an easy task, especially while running a super secretive organization dedicated to bringing down a corrupt empire. What he didn’t take in consideration was how much the boy would change his life.

Also posted on AO3 under the username Kishirokitsune

-----

xi.

Two years passed in a flash.

Ulaz kept Keith plenty busy, running him through all kinds of drills until he found himself sneaking up on people without even intending to. He learned how to stop and listen; to examine his surroundings before acting and how to use the intel he was told to his advantage. Basic first aid was quickly added to his studies once Ulaz learned of his more instinctive fighting style and that furthered Keith's understanding of how hard he could push himself and the lasting damage that could happen if he left some injuries without treatment.

His trial was mere days away.

Keith tightened his grip on the railing as he watched the newest batch of trainees run the gauntlet that was set up for them. Around him, older members of the Blade of Marmora silently watched them and made their picks for who they wanted to train, if they wanted any of them.

“Katla will be next,” Ulaz murmured.

Keith nodded, watching intently as the current trainee was caught and pinned by Antok, who was one of three senior members positioned within the gauntlet as a test.

It was set up differently than Keith remembered it, but it was basically the same big room with corridors and locked doors. He was pretty sure there was a system of vents to add a little realism, though they weren't functioning. With his top-down view he could clearly see the traps that were set up, as well as the exact positions of the senior members, who were arranged so that trainees would encounter at least one of them before they reached the end.

He knew it was all to test what level they were at and to showcase the skills they already had, but that didn't stop Keith from feeling nervous as he waited for Katla's turn to come. That was the whole reason he postponed his trial. He didn't need the distraction.

Ulaz shifted aside as they were joined by another Galra.

Keith glanced up and then immediately had to do a double take as he recognized Shiro had come to join them. “You made it!”

“I didn't miss your big day and I wasn't about to miss Katla's either,” Shiro said, casually bracing himself against the railing. “I wanted to make sure I got in my pick early and then I stopped to talk to Ranzaria.”

Ulaz made a curious sound. “I wasn't aware she had returned.”

“She got in early today. I didn't get the full story, but her undercover assignment was compromised, so she'll be around for a while,” Shiro said.

Keith tried to pay attention to what Shiro was saying about his old mentor, but he got a little stuck on the idea that Shiro was late because he was putting his name down to train someone. He guessed it made sense, since he and Katla were old enough that they didn't need him to watch after them anymore, but it was weird to think about.

Ulaz suddenly chuckled. “He'll feel that in the morning.”

“At least Antok looks like he's having fun,” Shiro replied.

Keith looked down in time to see Antok hauling the new trainee off of the floor, after apparently flipping him so hard that he was too disoriented to stand on his own. Keith winced in sympathy.

After a quick reset it was finally Katla's turn. She stood outside the first door, waiting for it to open and signal the start of her run. She shifted her stance and took off down the hall to her right, bypassing the first door and stopping near a control panel to the one after that. Katla picked at the underside of her bracer and pulled free a small cable, which she hooked into the control panel to produce a quick map.

Before the start of the gauntlet, each trainee was given a uniform and the basic tools they would learn, but no instruction on how to use them. Some were lucky and had prior knowledge and others had to learn on the fly. Like Keith, Katla had grown up surrounded by the Blade of Marmora and already knew a few tricks.

Katla glanced over the map. Once she had a good idea of the layout, she unplugged and started moving once again.

Keith held his breath as Katla approached the space where the first senior Blade was hidden. (What was his name again? Zarten? Zarthen? No, Zantar.) She ducked the first swing of his staff and rolled past him, popping back up to her feet as she unhooked her own staff and jabbed Zantar in the side before he could stop her.

The lighting on Zantar's suit went out and he bowed to Katla, allowing her to pass.

“She's doing well,” Ulaz said.

Katla carried on, tripping up once when she encountered a security droid. She quickly backtracked when she saw it and managed to break into one of the side rooms before it could reach her. She took a moment to look around before hurrying across the room and hopping up onto a crate placed against the far wall. It boosted her up enough that she was able to reach a grate on the wall, which she carefully pried free.

“Well now...” Ulaz sounded amused as they all watched Katla climb into the vent. “She will keep her mentor on their toes for certain. I almost feel bad for whoever picks her.”

“I've managed for seven years, so I think I'll be fine.”

Keith jerked his eyes away from watching Katla's progress in order to stare up at Shiro in shock. The tiniest sliver of jealousy welled up inside of him and he tried to shove it down. “You're going to be her mentor?”

“Nothing is official yet, but I did put my name down,” Shiro said. He looked around to make sure no one was close enough to overhear and then lowered his voice. “One day you and Katla will be partners. The mentors that Kolivan assign will help ensure that you have the skills and abilities to balance each other out.” He paused to make sure he had Keith's full attention and then continued: “I would have been proud to be your mentor, Keith, but it wouldn't have been what is best for you.”

“Perhaps it would be best to explain this later,” Ulaz remarked.

Shiro inclined his head in agreement.

Keith was left with even more to think about as he watched Katla ease herself out of another end of the vents and start to make her way toward where Antok was waiting at the end. Like the other three trainees, she fell to him in the end, though she did put up a good challenge by avoiding his attacks for several doboshes.

The thought of one day being partners with Katla was nice. He knew only of a few pairs, including Antok and Kolivan, but hadn't thought he would ever be lucky enough to be one of them.

“Come. We should congratulate Katla on a job well done,” Ulaz said, turning away from the railing to lead the way.

Keith felt a little more at ease as he followed his mentor with Shiro right behind them. Things were looking interesting for the future and he couldn't wait to see how it would all pan out.

[chosenkeepersworld]

Callum❤Morgan

Original Work Work Count: 4,521 words Date posted: 09/30/20 Author’s Note: Unbeta’d but I hope you guys still like it and as always every comment and critique is appreciated.

Morgan groaned as she brought the last box into her dorm room. she assessed her living situation seeing the two beds were still empty making it clear that her roommate had not yet arrived.

College was definitely something Morgan had been looking forward to. She loved living with her mother at the ranch but she was excited for a change in scenery. She was ready for something new.

However there would always be a kind of sadness that would never leave, after all Morgan never thought of going through the high milestones in her life without her other half.

But now was not the time to dwell on what was not here.

Morgan began pulling out her things, intent on setting up her side of the room before her roommate's arrival. And like she always did when she was doing any kind of work. Morgan began to hum. Many of the songs that would get stuck in her head were often from video games, anime or her favorite series.

Halfway through, she could hear another voice joining in, one that was distinctly male. Morgan gasped immediately straightening and turning but only found an open and empty doorway. The brunette quickly peeked out into the hall, checking to see if there was anyone still lingering, but all she could see were students going up and down  the hall and  in and out of their rooms. There was no one shooting sly glances toward her.

She moved back into her room, shutting the door this time, and continued her work.

It was still a little early for Morgan's next class, but the room was empty and the brunette wanted to get a good seat. It was a habit she never shook off, being early for things made a good impression, and a good impression was something Morgan wanted to last.

She wasn't going to college just for herself after all.

But since there was still time before class…

Morgan quickly pulled her laptop out of her bag and checked on the news for upcoming games that she was waiting for as well as news  from the developers she followed, as she read through the comments she unconsciously began  humming another song from a game she had been playing. She was so engrossed in her task that she did not notice someone had entered the room.

Her humming was then accompanied by another, a deeper clearly male voice. Morgan's head snapped towards the sound to see a boy, her age, sitting across the aisle from her.  He had short, shaggy, dark curls that fell in his forehead. His bright blue amused  eyes stared at her from behind a set of wide rimmed glasses. He gave her a sheepish smile.

Heat crept up Morgan's cheeks, causing her to look away in embarrassment. She wasn't doing anything wrong but the way he looked at her...

Morgan returned her laptop to her bag, still looking away from him, brought out her planner and started writing in it until class began.

And during it, she found out his name.

Callum

"I'll have fun" The brunette swore as her roommate led her into the sorority house later that evening.

"And I will make sure that you do" Carissa grinned as they  passed the bouncer at the door. Her older sister was part of the sorority the party was held in allowing Carissa a few advantages.

You would have never expected a girl like Carissa, clearly rich, well connected and stunningly attractive, to dorm. Imagine Morgan's surprise when her roommate came in wearing designer clothes, her hair styled and a man carrying about a dozen bags trailing behind her.

The brunette tensed when Carissa moved her sunglasses to the top of her head and surveyed the room before landing on Morgan. A great, wide smile spread across her face before she dropped her things and rushed at Morgan to give her the biggest, tightest hug she’d received so far.

“I’m so excited to meet you” Carissa squealed

“Nice to meet you too” Morgan wheezed

It didn’t take long for both girls to become friends, mostly due to Cari’s charisma and determination to include Morgan in every activity she could think of.

When Cari got invited it was the perfect opportunity to bring Morgan, who had been reading advanced material studiously for the past week. Carissa was determined to make sure Morgan had fun after what Cari considered was  a "hard week".

From the foyer they could see a large number of people milling around with drinks in their hands, laughing and enjoying themselves. Morgan swallowed thickly upon seeing the scene but one look at Cari's smiling face helped her relax. A young woman a year or two older spotted them and gave a squeal  of delight rushing away from her friends to wrap an arm around Carissa's shoulders and pressed her cheek against the younger woman's.

Carissa was quick enough to introduce the woman as her sister before being whisked off, leaving Morgan alone.

It didn't take long for Morgan to feel out of place prompting her to find her own little corner  away from everyone else. Eventually she found a spot with a good view and a cold breeze, there was a small balcony up in the attic that you can access through a round window.

Morgan took a deep breath, her long, dark chestnut hair blew softly in the breeze. The view of the college  was breathtaking from this height and distance, she could see the class buildings, the park and courtyard further out she could spot her dorm building. Looking down she could see the people milling around, going in and out of the house.

There were times when she felt so removed from other people, like she couldn't find a connection with some of them. Morgan knew she wasn't like most people, her childhood made it pretty clear that she wasn't, but now as an adult she still had difficulties socializing. It made her uneasy when she thinks about it.

These were the days when Morgan missed her sister the most. They spent a number of years together before her sister was taken from her, they had been inseparable but then Morgan spent many of what was meant to be their milestones alone.

Man, life was a real b-

The sound of whistling from behind her  cut her off from her thoughts, she turned to see who it was but her hand slipped from the edge of the balcony, the railing was really low, causing her to lose balance and fall on the other side of the rail.

She briefly glimpsed Callum's panicked face as she went over.

"You could have killed me!" Morgan slapped at Callum's arm, he leaned away until the brunette finally stopped with a huff. Morgan had caught on one of the railing grills to keep her from plummeting to her death, Callum rushed out onto the balcony to help her up. The both of them collapsed once Morgan was safely back on the balcony.

"I am sorry about surprising you and causing you to nearly fall to death but maybe, and hear me out here, just maybe you shouldn't be leaning so far out the railing." Callum said with a shrug.

"What were you doing up here anyway?" Morgan asked, bringing her knees up and wrapping her arms around them. He sighed, settling beside her "I saw you and your friend come in and saw you come up"

Morgan raised an eyebrow "So you followed me?"

His cheeks coloured "You could say that"

She chuckled causing Callum to smile too, the young man dangled his body to face her and held out his hand "Callum Caraway, nice to officially meet you"

Morgan stared at the dark haired man's hand, suddenly feeling shy, gently she took his hand and gave it a firm shake "It's a pleasure to meet you Callum, my name is Morgan"

Callum was sitting on a park bench, laughing quietly to himself as he scrolled through the community forums he had joined, keeping himself busy while he waited for her. To say Morgan was dedicated was an understatement, due to her academic record she'd been allowed in a tutoring program to help students who were having difficulties in their classes and it was undeniable that she would be a good tutor however Morgan had also joined an arts organization and was doing her best to be active and help out with what the organization needed.

This would often lead to her coming home later than normal. But since Callum's practices often ran late he would often wait for her, like he was now.

It didn't take long for him to hear someone running on the paths, a moment later Morgan appears holding all her things, her vibrant green eyes lighting up at the sight of him.

She finally reached him, dropping her butt on the bench, right next to him "You know you really don't have to wait for me every night. I feel bad that you have to sit here and wait instead of getting back to your dorm right away"

He waved his hand dismissively "I told you before I don't mind. And what kind of friend would I be if I let you walk home alone at night?"

Disappointment washed over Morgan, it had been months since they'd first met and to be honest she really did like him, she'd started dropping hints two weeks ago but Cal had not noticed.  

God, she was acting like an idiot! Waiting for a guy to notice and take action. She did not get where she was now by being idle.

Callum stood, slipping on the strap of his duffle "Back to the dorm?"

A bulb lit up in her head, and she made the first step.

"Actually" she cleared her throat and spoke again more firmer this time "Actually no. You don't have class tomorrow right?"

His brows furrowed in confusion "Yeah, why?"

"I want to treat you for waiting for me for the past few weeks. I don't feel that just saying thank you will be enough for what you've been doing"

His gaze softened "Morgan, you know you don't have to do this"

"I know I don't have to, but I want to Cal"

"I don't need you to pay me back" he argued but blinked in surprise to see Morgan's face , under the park lamp, turn bright red starting from her cheeks spreading down her neck and chest "That's not the only reason why I'm asking you to go out with me tomorrow"

It hit him, she was asking him out on a date. Blood rose to his cheeks "Morgan…"

" I like you" she admitted "You wait for me after practice even though you could be at your dorm by now resting, you buy your roommate coffee and baked goods when you two have class in the morning, you don't lose your cool when that guy from your class texts you the same question for what feels like the hundredth time.

" You're sweet enough to help your mom plan your sister's birthday over video call" she grinned.

" I just wanted to help make her day special" he muttered

"The point is I like what I see right now and I want to see more" she explained gently "If after this date you think that we're better off friends then I'll be okay with that, all I ask is that we see if this could go further?"

Callum could not deny that he liked Morgan and liked spending time with her. She was passionate about her interests, so much so that the brunette had a tendency to make the wrong impression but when you get to know her better she can be sweet and thoughtful and funny…

Why the hell was he fighting this again?

Callum smiled "I can handle a trial run"

A bigger smile spread across Morgan's face, the unbridled joy lit up her eyes. The openness of her expression made his heart beat harder, it made him want to see her face make that expression more and he wanted to be the reason why she looked that way.

They walked back to their dorm rooms with an extra pep in their steps, looking ridiculously happy and as they walked side by side their fingers twitched with the need to take hold of the other person's hand.

"Sit still and let me work my magic!" Carissa grumbled running the comb as gently and as quickly through her roommate's hair .

Morgan winced as the comb caught a few snags, yanking on some strands of hair but other than that she kept silent.

She was mostly ready for her and Callum's date, she searched through her entire closet trying to find the nicest date outfit and barely got enough sleep for the next day.

Morgan wanted the date to definitely be fun and comfortable, relaying this thought to Callum before going their separate ways. The brunette wore a loose grey shirt, ripped jeans, nude gladiator style wedge sandals and her brown leather jacket along with some light make-up. Morgan's green eyes glanced at the clock, she still had a few minutes before Callum arrived.

"Done!"Cari held up another mirror behind Morgan, the pretty blonde styled her roommate's hair into a half up crown braid, just something simple but it suited Morgan well.

Green eyes widened in awe, there were very few times in Morgan's life that prompted her to put more than a minimal amount of effort into her appearance but when she did it never failed to surprise her.

"Gorgeous" Cari whispered, unable to keep her lips from forming a wide grin.

"Thank you so much for helping me. I don't think I could have done this"

"Sweetie, you have got to give yourself more credit. You are more capable than you think, without the make-up you already look pretty but with it on? Wow" she pretended to swipe her forehead "Callum won't know what hit him!"

As if on cue there was a knock at the door, the duo exchanged excited looks. Cari pushed Morgan towards the door and gave her a double thumbs up.

Morgan took a deep breath and opened the door, and there Callum stood with a bouquet of sunflowers in hand. His eyes widened as he took her in "You look…" he trailed off unable to get more words to come out of his mouth "Damn I can't get my mouth to work" he chuckled nervously.

Morgan gave him an amused smile "That's okay. Take your time"

It took him a few minutes but he was finally able to make coherent sentences again "You look absolutely amazing that I honestly feel inadequate just by standing beside you"

Blush quickly rose to the Morgan's cheeks "Well there you go, talking in full sentences" the brunette's hands rose to receive the flowers, it took Callum a second to register the movement before shoving the bouquet in the young woman's hands. She gave a quiet laugh and excused herself to put them in a vase.

While she was gone, Callum let out a breath of relief.

That could have been worse.

"Callum really that's not necessary"

"But I want to!" He insisted, gently wrestling the bag out of her weakening grip "You paid for lunch-"

"Which is what treating you means" she quipped

"-the least I can do is carry your bag while I walk you to class." He finally got the item out of her grip but made a noise  at the weight it carried. She made a move to get the bag back but her date moved it out of her reach causing her to pout.

Their date went really well, while they didn't do too many activities due to the time constraint they did the most important thing on a date: enjoy each other's company.

They had gone to lunch first, eating at a quaint little restaurant in town Carissa's sister recommended. The old couple who ran the restaurant were a lovely pair, and even after so many years together it was clear that they still loved each other dearly.

It was still a little early so there were plenty of seats still available. Callum and Morgan seated themselves in a booth by the window enjoying the view of the outside while they ate. They had ordered coffees afterwards and were surprised  when  a dessert had come with their orders.

"On the house" the waitress winked as she left them to enjoy their meal.

The couple shared a surprised look then Morgan giggled and Callum's ears turned red. They ate their dessert while the owners of the restaurant exchanged smiles.

Afterwards Morgan decided that a walk would help the full feeling in the stomachs. They walked around, checking the different things the stores in town occasionally making a purchase when something catches their eye. Eventually they came to the park, sitting on their bench cuddled close, their hands interlocked.

Their date was coming to an end so all they could do was prolong what time they had left.

Which lead to where they were now, playing keep away with Morgan's bag as Callum walked her to class. They finally reached their destination and Callum had to give his date her things back.

They lingered by the door, unwilling to end it.

"Did you have fun?" she asked him softly, so softly he almost didn't hear her.

" Yes" he responded

"And?" she prompted

"You're right ,I want to see where this might go" he admitted

She gave him that bright smile that made his heart beat faster, what she did next nearly made his heart stop. She lifted herself up on her toes and gingerly kissed his cheek.

"Your move now, Caraway" and with that she left him out in the hall, ears redder than apples and heart beating more wildly than before.

Soft flakes fell around her as Morgan swung gently from the swings. The young woman sniffled and wiped at her nose with her sleeve. She was home for the holidays, but it was clearly going to be a miserable Christmas.

The first reason was her own fault, she was rushing around campus during the few weeks left before break trying to finish what little she had left to do when she got onto the soccer field, little did she know there was practice going on. One of the players was running full speed, dribbling the ball when the brunette stepped on causing the player to tackle the young woman into the ground. This resulted in a dislocated shoulder.

The next reason was no longer Morgan's fault. A day or so after arriving home the young woman received a rather alarming  email.  There were some issues with one of her professor's records which now meant a few students in that class are technically failing, Morgan included. The only solution was to gather up all her tests results and submissions over the course of the term and submit them for recording. Now all she could do was wait and hope that her professor finished computing their grades in time for submission.

The last reason was partially her fault. She and Callum  had the worst fight they'd ever had, they had been busy with classes and extracurricular commitments, but when they had a moment they would make plans to meet together just to talk, have a quick snack or even just hold hands for a minute or two before life knocked on each of their doors. But Callum always cancelled last minute, even if he was the one who called her. Morgan understood that the unexpected could happen but every time? There was just no way.

The last straw was after cancelling for the umpteenth time, because he had to work with his group mates on a project, his girlfriend decided to check on him only to find him and his friends goofing off with their project halfway finished with the deadline only a few days away. They had supposedly started a month or so ago.

She, to her embarrassment later on, had lost it. She could exactly remember what they said to each other but it was definitely bad. They haven't spoken to each other since then.

Morgan missed him and wanted to apologize. An apology over text or call did not seem enough, she'd have to look up more options. Morgan just hoped that when she made her move it wouldn't be too late.

She glanced at her watch, stood up and left the park, walking down the road leading to the center of town.

Every year the townspeople would gather together at the town's plaza and watch the giant tree at the center light up. As a child it was her favorite event, once the bright lights came on, the little's mood lightened as well.

But it did not seem like the trey's lights would brighten her mood this year. Morgan weaved her way around the crowd, careful of her still healing arm, trying to find her mother.

The brunette perked up when she caught sight of her mother, the young woman walked towards the older woman but slowed her approach when she saw a tall man, his back towards Morgan, talking to her mother. The older woman's face became alert, causing the man to turn.

It was definitely not an older man like Morgan thought, instead it was Callum. His face was flushed and was panting softly, puffs of air leaving his mouth.

Frozen in shock, she could only stare at her boyfriend's face as he came closer. The couple stood a short distance from each other, each unsure of what to do or say until they heard a voice from where Morgan's mother stood "For God's sake boy just say what you need to say!"

The voice was the kick to the butt needed to bring the two out of their immobilized states. Callum turned his head at the same time Morgan looked behind him to see the young woman's mother dragging her friend away to give the couple more privacy.

Morgan shook her head but couldn't help the smile from spreading across her face "Sorry about that"

"No need, it helped break the ice" he chuckled

She glanced at the crowd around them and peered up at him “Do you want to go somewhere more private?”

He nodded.

Morgan pressed her lips together then hesitantly stretched out her hand to him. Without any hesitation he took her hand and she led him on the road to reconciling their relationship .

Later that night, the couple was snuggled up on the couch. They had a long talk about their fight and their relationship, they still had a long way to go before their relationship was the way it was before.

But for now, as they cuddled on the couch, all they could think of was the time they were without each other.  Just a moment of peace together before the sun came up and they had to face the world again.

She slept on the couch, her head nestled on a pillow and Morgan’s favorite blanket covering her slight frame. Morgan sighed as she stared at her sister with a trouble look on her face. Callum set his girlfriend’s mug on the table and pushed it in her direction. She turned and flashed him a smile before turning back to watch the young woman on the couch.

“Remind me again why, even though we’ve been dating for three years, you never talked about this twin that I met over a video call?”

Morgan closed her eyes and let out a tired breath and shifted in her seat to face him and her hot mug of cocoa “My sister and my father’s side of the family are very sore topics for both me and my mother. I love my sister and she, from a young age, showed incredible talent in a family art and was considered a prodigy. But my mom had no idea how to handle it so she called my paternal grandmother for help” Morgan swallowed thickly “My grandmother’s way of helping was to take my sister from us so she could develop her talents in the best environment possible”

Callum reached across the table and squeezed her hand “She never called or made any effort to communicate?”

The short haired brunette turned the hand Callum had so she could hold his hand while taking a sip of her drink “It’s not her fault, my grandmother lives in this really rural town, on an island that’s practically in the middle of nowhere”

He stared at her, silently taking in her expression and body language. Her sister’s sudden arrival was clearly not something that Morgan was taking well, after so long apart his girlfriend had no idea where she stood in Concordia's life but it was also clear that Morgan still loved her twin and wanted to know more about her which is why she was with them now.

Callum reached up to cup Morgan’s face “I understand that this is hard for you to talk about and that your sister being here is difficult for you also but I’m here for you.” he stood up and crouched in front of her, taking her other hand “I’ll take up some of your chores, I’ll stay with Ivan every now and then so you both of you can bond more?” he laughed  butt quieted when Cordia shifted on the couch.

Morgan gave a soft laugh “You don’t have to do that. Seeing you when I come home is always the highlight of my day” she stared into his eyes, looking more relaxed than she’d been in days “I love you”

Callum smiled and leaned in to press his mouth against hers. Morgan slid her hands up his chest to wrap them around his neck to deepen the kiss. The world fell away and it was just them, together.

They jumped apart when a loud sound came from the living room, Morgan’s sister turned in her sleep, her arm outstretched on the coffee table. The couple took in the sight and made varying noises of disgruntlement.

Callum looked down at his girlfriend with a sigh “We’ll work around it” he said hugging her close.

The short brunette closed her eyes, taking delight in the warmth and strength of Callum’s body. But a concern slipped into the young woman’s mind, Morgan couldn’t help but think of her sister’s presence and what changes it could do to Morgan’s life. She wasn’t worried about her sister specifically but when they were together Concordia’s talents had a tendency to bring out Morgan’s own abilities.  

As children they knew what to expect of their abilities and while Morgan knew Cordia had better control of her powers the younger twin was concerned about how her own abilities have developed.

She could only hope that her life would not become as complicated as it was now.

Of course in the next few weeks those hopes were died quite quickly.

[zuwritesstuff]

When You Try to Write A Hurt/Comfort Candlenights Story

(Wow, posting? Crazy- Find this story on AO3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22228207)

TW: Blood, injury, gun mention, weapon mention, some slightly suggestive jokes, cussing, its a hurt/comfort story if you can’t tell

Word Count: 3k

A/N- so i got really into TAZ and wrote this for my friend so, uh, enjoy ( @hiding-in-a-corner-reading i forgot to post this here whoops )

Kravtiz Ajal limped down a rusted, creaky fire escape, stumbling his way down the steps. His two compatriots, Barry and Lup Bluejeans-Enno looked at him with worry. Lup was holding him up with one arm, while Kravtiz stemmed the flow of his blood with his other hand, having just been stabbed. Barry, looking out and leading the way, holding his gun at the ready, knocked on the frosted-over window that stood before him as Lup leaned Kravtiz onto the nearby railing, exhausted. 

Kravtiz saw as Takoda Enno, his boyfriend, looked out the window, paused, and rushed over with a concerned look that never passed his features.

“What the fuck did you do-” he asked, opening the window and pulling Kravtiz by hooking his arms under his and pulling with all his might. Kravtiz, having been stabbed, winced at the movement but said nothing of it.

“Hey, Taako, good to see you too my love, light of my life,” Kravtiz said, words slurring. “I might have gotten stabbed a little bit, but just a little, no need to panic or whatever, just gotta rest a bit.” 

“What the actual, complete fuck.”

“We’re real sorry, Taako,” Barry said, taking one of Kravtiz’s arms and leading him to the bathroom in the hallway. “Mission went wrong, really wrong, and you were closer than the safe house, I didn’t know if he could make it further.” Barry helped Kravtiz into the bathroom, putting him down softly into the bathtub. Lup put a hand on Taako’s shoulder as he watched the scene unfold before him.

“He took the knife for me, bastard.” Lup said, shaking her head. “He didn’t have to do that.”

“If he didn’t, you’d be dead, babe,” Barry added, in the process of removing Kravtiz’s shirt to look at the wound better, covering it with Kravtiz’s balled up shirt. “I’m grateful, but this is bad. I’m no doctor, but…” He shrugged, looking at the two of them. “I think we should call Merle, like, now.”

“I got it.” Taako said, turning away quickly from the two of them. He went to his living room, taking a second to collect himself before calling their friend, Dr. Merle Highchurch. 

“Yello, this is Dr. Merle Highchurch, how may I help you?” A cheery voice rang from the other side of the call.

“Cut the shit, Merle, I know you have me in your contacts as, ‘Taako or Lup’, I need some help.”

“Well, is this Taako or Lup?”

“Taako, but I know you don’t know how to change my contact name- whatever, come to my apartment, like now.”

“At this hour?”

“Yeah, uh,” Taako swallowed, biting his lip before taking a deep breath and saying, “Uh, you know that mission the Reapers went on tonight?” Merle hummed in assent. “It went wrong. Kravtiz is...uh, he’s hurt bad Merle.”

Taako waited for a beat before he heard Merle’s more serious voice say, “Of course. Lucretia and Magnus can run the ship for a while, give me ten minutes, alright kiddo?”

“Yeah, thanks, Merle.”

“Talk to you soon, keep pressure on the wound in the meantime, don’t let him lose too much blood.”

Taako clicked off the phone and walked back to the bathroom where Barry and Lup looked at him expectantly. He relayed the information and sighed, leaning on the wall. They, including Merle, Lucretia Austen, Magnus Burnsides, Dave N. Port, Angus McDonald, and several others served B.O.B., aka The Bureau of Benevolence, a secret organization dedicated to taking down organizations that harmed the public but that the federal government couldn’t take down legally. They had been organized into elite groups of three depending on their individual skills. There was Kravtiz, Lup and Barry, affectionately and formally known as the Reaper Squad for their terrifying efficiency and elite jobs, Merle, Magnus, and Taako, affectionately known as Tres Horny Boys, (it was Lup’s idea, after having walked in on literally every single one of them doing unsavory things at very different times), and Lucretia, Dave, and Angus known as the Nerds, (Merle came up with it and he was too excited for anyone to turn it down).

At the moment, however, the Reaper squad and ⅓ of Tres Horny Boys were crammed into Taako’s tiny apartment bathroom, unsure of what to say. Lup had taken over keeping pressure on the wound and Kravtiz was still in the bathtub, eyes locked onto the ceiling, breathing raggedly. 

At last, Taako broke the silence. “W-what happened?”

“The mission was to get in, take out the boss, and get out. That was it.” Lup said, unable to look Taako in the eyes. “But we had bad information- someone told us something wrong and when we got in there were so many more guards, different security measures, doomed from the fucking start.” She scoffed and shook her head. “When I get my hands on that murderous traitor…” She rolled her shoulders and gritted her teeth, a nervous habit. “We just managed to get him out.”

“You guys should go get some sleep.” Taako said, seething quietly. “You can shower in my bedroom and sleep there, I can stay up for Merle.” Taako kneeled next to his sister, taking the balled up, stained cloth from her. Lup looked at Taako, a little nervous.

“T, I really am sorry.”

“Lulu, it wasn’t your fault.” Taako looked at his sister, a ghost of his usual smile reassuring her, kind of. “It’s part of the job, we all know that, and Merle’s on his way.” She sighed and nodded, standing up and walking out of the room with Barry, but not before casting one last, sad look at her friend, bleeding out in the bathtub.

                                                      ~

Merle had come and gone, stitching up and bandaging the wound.

“Now, listen- he’s out cold right now, which is probably the best scenario since he lost a lot of blood.” He said as he washed his hands. “I can’t imagine him being 100% up to speed after he wakes up, but maybe move him from the bathtub as soon as possible.”

Taako nodded and looked over towards the bathroom. “I’ll wait until he gets up. Lup and Barry are also out cold right now, in a good way. Did they tell you about what happened?” 

“Mhm- ran into Barry on his way out of the shower. And, apparently, Lup isn’t taking it very well. Don’t mean to dump that on you too, you’ve got enough to deal with but…” Merle looked away and shrugged. “When she wakes up, I can get Cretia and Barry to try to talk to some sense into her.” Taako looked at him quizzically and Merle sighed, looking up at him. “She’s going back in the morning to finish off the traitor and the boss, supposedly.”

“She can get in line,” Taako muttered, scowling at the floor. “Great minds think alike, I suppose.”

“Taako, kiddo, you can’t.”

“Why not?” Taako fired back. “They almost killed Kravtiz, Merle. Almost killed Lup. You think I can stand by while my boyfriend is bleeding out in my tub and my sister thinks it’s her fault? No, I won’t. I can’t just, ” He waved his hands around helplessly. “Can’t just sit around, you know?”

“I think you can sit long enough for your boyfriend to get better because if he isn’t getting the care he needs, he’s gonna get worse. You know that- I sure as hell know you do. I don’t need to get the finger puppets to explain this, do I?”

“Fuck off, that was one time.”

Merle chuckled and put a hand on Taako’s shoulder, stretching a bit. “I know you get it, son. Cool off a little, I know Barry’ll help. I’ll come back in the morning with the rest of the crew to visit. Kravtiz will be awake by then, promise.” 

“Fine. I trust you Merle, but if we don’t have a plan to take those guys out in 48 hours, I’m doing it myself.” Taako said, smiling down at him a little, his expression not matching his words.

Merle nodded solemnly. “Better get on it then, huh? Maybe I’ll wake everyone up a little earlier than intended...”

                                                       ~

Taako sat on his counter, fidgeting quietly. He sat with his head leaned back onto his mirror, kicking his legs, waiting for Kravtiz to wake. He was peacefully sleeping in Taako’s tub, still, but now with a pillow behind him and blanket wrapping him up. Taako blew a puff of air out, trying to move a stray piece of hair, escaped from his ponytail through all the ruckus. It didn’t move, and he sat there, trying to move this piece of hair for a while as Kravtiz, freshly awake, watched in amusement. 

“Having a good time there, T?” Kravtiz asked, voice raspy from disuse. 

“Having a wonderful time Kravtiz.” Taako said instinctively, then looking up in amazement, he said, “Wait- what the fuck?” He leaped from the counter, rushing over, kneeling to inspect him. Kravtiz struggled to get up, wincing at the wound.

“Morning- night? Afternoon?” He shook his head, closing his eyes. “Hiya, though.” Taako laughed gleefully, leaning over the tub to kiss Kravtiz, cupping his face. Kravtiz, however weak he was, kissed back, one hand in Taako’s hair, the other supporting him. 

“H-how are you feeling? Let me look at the wound, I gotta rewrap the bandages I think?” Taako said, breaking away, looking around. Kravtiz nodded, sinking back into the tub.

“Maybe I can get out of the tub first?”

“After, if any blood gets on my couch I’ll stab you myself.”

“Topical.” Kravtiz said, smiling as he leaned his head back. Taako grabbed the blanket covering him, pulled it away gently, apologizing softly as Kravtiz swore because of the cold. Kravtiz inspected the wound, wincing again as Taako pulled the bandages away.

“Yuck.” Kravtiz said, biting his lip and looking away. 

“Merle did his best at 2 am, with you bleeding out in my one good tub.” Kravtiz hummed in assent, keeping his eyes on the ceiling until Taako was done. He looked down again, before reaching for his shirt, then realizing it was on the floor, covered in his own blood. 

“Super yuck. Was it really that bad?” 

“Yeah…” Taako said, handing him one of his own oversized shirts. “It was pretty bad. Merle said something about,” he hunched over, lowering his voice, “‘narrowly missed a vital organ, could have been super duper bad, whatever will I do with you punks’” he straightened out, “So the usual.” 

“Ah, obviously…” Kravtiz trailed off, arms poised to hoist himself out of the tub, looking at Taako. “A little help please, dear.”

Taako bit his lip, chewing nervously. “You sure? I can get more blankets so you don’t have to move, I don’t, uh…” He looked down, unable to meet Kravtiz’s eyes. “I don’t want you to get more hurt.” 

“Oh, darling, come here- I’m gonna be okay, promise.” He added as Taako trudged over, still not meeting his eyes, sitting cross-legged near the tub. Kravtiz relaxed back into the tub, reaching a hand out towards Taako, who took it silently. They sat in silence a bit, Kravtiz squeezing Taako’s hand comfortingly. 

“Krav, darling, I love you, but when I saw you bleeding out, I-I didn’t know if you were gonna...you know?” Taako said, breaking the silence of the bathroom. Kravtiz looked up at him, eyes soft.

“I just- I needed to protect Lup, you know? It would have killed her, I knew I was gonna be okay.”

“That’s the thing though, love, you didn’t. You didn’t know and if it had killed you, what-what could I have done?” Taako let the question linger in the air before saying, “I’m so, so grateful but god, Kravtiz, what would I have done?”

“You would have been okay, but,” he sighed, looking back up to the ceiling. “I know I would have been a bit disgruntled, that’s for sure.” Taako laughed, scratching the back of his neck and shrugging in assent. “I promise you, Taako, whenever I go on missions, my top priority? You. Coming back to you, that’s all I want, all I need. Someone I can come home to, someone who can be my home.”

Taako, clearly holding back a smile, looked off to the side. “You’re a huge fucking sap, you know that, right?” Kravtiz laughed loudly, wincing slightly as it disturbed his newly stitched skin. Taako was at his side in an instant, worried, hands hovering over the wound. Kravtiz held up a hand, closing his eyes and breathing deeply before nodding to Taako, who very, very carefully helped him up, draping his arm under Kravtiz’s, helping him out into the hallway where they bumped into Barry. Barry locked eyes with Kravtiz, shocked at his appearance so soon. A look of understanding and gratefulness passed between them, before Barry took his other side, helping Kravtiz to the couch, where he, and Taako, slept for the rest of the night.

                                                       ~

“Kravtiz, you absolute dumbass,” Magnus announced after barging into Taako’s apartment, Lucretia, Merle, Angus, and Dave closely behind, who were all clearly trying to keep him from doing so. “I can’t believe you got yourself stabbed- your whole thing is stabbing other people.”

Kravtiz scrunched up his face, sitting up. The four staying at the apartment had all changed and cleaned up, and Taako and Lup were in the kitchen cooking a feast for everyone, Barry sitting with Kravtiz and entertaining him with card games, chess, and whatever else they could get their hands on. At the moment though, he pushed his hair back and rolled his eyes at Magnus.

“Haha, what is it you do again?” Kravtiz smirked up at Magnus who laughed.

“I’m a tank, clearly,” he said, flexing and winking at Kravtiz, who chuckled. Lucretia rolled her eyes and patted Magnus’s shoulder. 

“Sure thing- how’re you feeling Krav?”

“Like I got stabbed, Cretia, how are you?”

‘Get stabbed once and become a comedian, huh?’ Dave signed, sitting next to Barry, looking over the chessboard where Kravtiz was getting thoroughly beaten. 

“Hey! I was a comedian before I got stabbed, thank you very much.” He said to Dave, who was mute- he had been at the B.O.B. pretty much longer than almost everyone there, so they all had to pick up ASL pretty quickly to understand what he was saying. Dave raised an eyebrow pointedly at him.

 “No love, you never were.” Taako said, emerging from the kitchen with an apron that said, “Kiss the Cook” in curly red letters. He greeted all the visitors, fist-bumping Magnus, an elaborate handshake for Angus, (who was very excited for it), a wave for Dave, (which he said out loud), and a hug for Lucretia and Merle, (who was surprised, but seeing as Taako’s hugs towards him were somewhat limited, he hugged back, no questions asked). “Can’t believe it took my boyfriend getting stabbed for everyone to actually come to my apartment.”

“Hey, sir, wait-” Angus started. He came over to the apartment once or twice a week since he was Taako’s apprentice in all the weaponry and sneakery. He was a new recruit at the B.O.B., and when he was first assigned there after trying to go after once of their assignments before they had even figured out who it was, everyone was a little apprehensive at having a literal child, (ish), on the team, but he had grown on them, especially Taako. While Lucretia taught him the more...subtle ways of being a spy and Magnus taught him hand-to-hand combat, Taako taught him how to handle weapons, and then invited him over for dinner, and now he was more like a father to Angus, though he’d never admit it.

“Not you Angus,” Taako said, waving away any thoughts to the contrary, “You’re an angel and I’m thrilled to have you here.”

“Why thank you.”

As this happened, Merle had walked over to Kravtiz, lifting his shirt up and examining the bandages. “Hmm…” he said, rubbing his chin. “Looks good, but I don’t want you moving around too much.” He glanced over at Taako. “Bed rest, alright?”

“Yes, sir,” Taako said, mock saluting. “I will keep him in my bed, thanks.” 

Merle rolled his eyes, pulling down Kravtiz’s shirt. “Have you had anything to eat yet?”

“Some bread and water- I’m waiting for the famous Enno breakfast, hopefully, I can keep that down.”

“‘Scuse me, but I’m an Enno-Bluejeans, thank you very much,” Lup said, brushing her hands on her short black skirt, (it was actually Taako’s, borrowed this morning, so Taako looked very offended), untying another “Kiss the Cook” apron, this time with light blue cursive letters, as Barry beamed with pride at her words, straightening slightly and smiling widely. She blew him a kiss as Taako gagged at their PDA behind her back. She, without looking behind her, flipped him off over her shoulder and said, “Anyway, breakfast is ready, everyone help me bring it out here. Except you, Krav, Jesus-” she added, as Kravtiz made to get up. 

“Damn, I wanted to get away from this game.” He muttered, looking over the board. Barry laughed and patted him on the shoulder. 

“I’m telling you, bud, I was president of the chess club back in high school.”

“Now I know this doesn’t mean much coming from me,” Lucretia said, putting a platter of cut fruit on the table in front of them, which was quickly getting filled with other food, “But you, Barold, are a nerd.” 

“Lu, I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever told me.”

‘You know, I don’t think that’s true’ Dave signed after bringing the last of the food over as Magnus held literally enough chairs for everyone, thinking. ‘Lucretia is a very nice person.’

Lucretia signed thank you to him and sat with the rest of them, digging into the feast the twins prepared. They talked about everything and anything- except last night’s mission of course. There was plenty of other things to talk about, like Angus’s training, gossip from the office, (Carey and Killian finally started dating, how Magnus’s wife, Julia, and her team was doing, the other department’s drama, etc.) and other stuff until there was a comfortable lull in the conversation, filled with the scraping of forks, and content sighs. 

“Uh, sirs? And ma’ams?” Angus said timidly, putting his fork and knife down. Everyone looks up expectantly at him. He took a deep breath and said. “I’ve been thinking about what happened last night, and it has led me to believe that, um, something is up. In the Bureau itself.” They all looked shocked as he continued. “We know you got the information from an informer, who probably works for the Bureau- but what if it wasn’t the informer? What if someone in the Bureau wanted this to go wrong?” 

“Listen, kiddo, I know mysterying it out is your thing but, uh, how do you know?” Merle asked, waving around a piece of waffle.

“Because this is the second time an agent has gotten hurt on an informers tip- but there’s no way the informers were related.” Everyone swiveled to look at Magnus who put his fork down with a clatter. They knew Angus was talking about a recent incident that had left his wife and her father in the hospital. Julia had managed to pull through, though with serious injuries, but her father hadn’t. Magnus looked down at his plate, processing. Then he looked up, jaw clenched, at Angus.

“You think it was the same person?”

“Yes, sir. I’m sorry I didn’t detect foul play before.” He said, looking at Magnus and then Kravtiz, slightly guilty. Lucretia put her hand on Angus’s shoulder, reassuring him.

“Alright, kid,” Taako said, putting his fork down too. “Let’s get to work.”

                                        To be continued

[crackimagines]

Marianne and Ashe heart to heart (FE: Three Houses Short Fic)

Marianne reflects on something Ashe said that has stuck to her mind for quite some time.

That girl seriously needs a hug

also no im not salty that their A support happened post time skip instead of during the academy, nope definitely not, SHUT UP

Inside the Cathedral, it was midnight and dead siilent. No one was present except a blue haired girl, praying in front of the statue.

Once Marianne was done praying she looked behind her, expecting someone to be there. 

Unsurprisingly, there wasn’t anyone. It was very late at night, who’d even be here besides her?

Well...Ashe would’ve been.

Ever since their last conversation, she had been actively avoiding him since he kept trying to talk to her. She felt guilty, making him go through all of that trouble for someone as worthless as her.

He stopped showing up at the Cathedral about a week ago, at first it gave Marianne some peace of mind that he wouldn’t have any more trouble, but after the deafening silence she went through each time, she could only think about Ashe.

Not necessarily what he said about using her crest for good, she didn’t believe a single word of that, honestly.

What she was thinking was more on the lines of ‘How bad is he feeling, thinking he upset me?”

She took a deep breath and looked behind her again, some small shred of hope that he’d be coming through the door.

Five minutes passed, and nothing happened.

What a shock.

She considered going to bed, but she wasn’t tired physically as much as she was mentally. This had been plaguing her mind for a while, so if she were to lay on her bed, she’d be tormenting herself the entire time. She might as well do it where there was a good breeze.

She walked out towards the right wing of the Cathedral, and sat down at the bench, looking over the monastery.

The only thing Marianne could think of was how guilty Ashe must’ve been feeling. This is why she was a curse, she’d cause nothing but grief for others trying to help her. She was better off alone no matter what anyone said.

“...You shouldn’t have come to me, Ashe...”

“AGH! Y-You knew I was here?!”

...Why was there a response?

She quickly turned her head near the stairs, and to her surprise, Ashe was standing right there.

“A-Ashe?!”

“S-Sorry I didn’t meant to startle-...Wait a second...If you weren’t expecting me then...”

Marianne realized that she spoke aloud, and that made her flustered.

“N-No, I didn’t mean it like that! I’m sorry, if you’ll-” 

“Hold on a second!”

Marianne was about to get up, but she stopped herself when Ashe came to the bench with her. It was then she noticed he had a blanket on him.

“Um, why do you have that?”

“Well uh...It’s for you.”

He gestured it towards her, using one hand to awkwardly rub the back of his neck.

“It’s pretty chilly tonight and I figured you’d be out here so...I don’t want you to catch a cold or anything.”

Marianne was shocked that he did this for her despite the fact she had been treating him like a stranger everytime they talked. She mustered out a quiet ‘Thank you,’ and wrapped herself around in it.

They both remained quiet, not saying a word to each other. The silence wasn’t tense, awkward or anything really. They both just stared out, letting the wind be the only noise around them.

It stayed that way for about three to four minutes until Marianne broke the silence.

“I’m sorry, Ashe.”

“Huh?”

“I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you. You were just trying to encourage me and I...I made you think that you were to blame for my actions.”

“No, it’s alright. I should be apologizing. I’m the one who never really asked you why you felt the way you do, and butted into something I didn’t know. And what was that bit earlier about me coming to you?”

“...Everyone that I meet I end up driving off. You’re a very nice person, Ashe, but you’re better off not associating with someone like me.”

She looked downwards, her eyes somehow looking heavier than before.

“I’m not worth the trouble. Please forget we ever had this conversation.”

“You realize I’m not doing that, right?”

She looked back slowly to him, his face no longer filled with any anxiety, but now determination.

“Marianne, I don’t know why you say these terrible things about yourself! When has anyone in our class regretted meeting you ever since the Professor brought you in?!”

He was almost shouting, but he quickly lowered his voice, and she noticed it was starting to shake now.

“B-Besides...we’re all a little bit of trouble ourselves. Sylvain with his skirt chasing, Felix with...well being Felix, and the list goes on. Heh, and here’s me, pestering you about this...Marianne, you’re such a kind person. You take your time to check the wounded after our battles, you help people with their studying, you take care of the animals with such gentleness and...”

His eye began to water as he tried regaining his composure.

“...And I can’t stand to see someone I care for talk about themselves like that.”

Marianne’s mouth was slightly open in shock, no one had ever been this passionate talking about her before. Sure, they’d say the things Ashe were saying, but no one had been moved to tears and shouted it at her before.

That last sentence, she could truly see how much she meant to him.

Her eyes began to water up as well, and she began shaking in her blanket, her nose sniffling.

“M-Marianne...?”

She started crying, the tears falling from her face couldn’t be stopped anytime soon. Her chest was tight, and her heart was burning now, barely able to process everything he just said. 

Ashe didn’t know what to do, so on instinct, he hugged her, letting her head rest on his shoulders as she cried it out. The sob became louder once he did, and she started hyperventilating, which caused Ashe to hug her tighter, hoping the tighter he did, the calmer it would make her.

Slowly but surely, it worked. After a brief moment, she slowly stopped crying, and spoke up.

“...I’m sorry...T-Thank you, Ashe.”

“It’s okay...”

He gently patted her back, letting her slowly start breathing normally.

Saying nothing again, they both stared out towards the dorms, Marianne’s breathing slowly getting calmer and calmer.

“Are you okay now, Marianne?”

“...Yes.”

She looked up at him at the same time he looked down at her, their faces very close to one another.

The first thing that came to both their mind was ‘They smell nice.’ 

The second thought was ‘Wait, just how close are we?!’

They both bolted upwards, completely flustered and cheeks burning bright red.

“I-I’m sorry!”

“N-No it’s okay, I didn’t really think, I just-”

Before Marianne could respond, they heard a third voice bringing them back to reality.

“Hey, what are you kids doing down there?!”

They both turned around and saw a Monastery guard looking over the railing above them.

Another voice they couldn’t make out seemingly came from behind him, and the guard turned back to them.

“You two stay there! Greetings, Professor! There’s something to report, actually!”

Ashe widened his eyes upon hearing him.

“P-Professor Byleth?”

“...I see.” The Gatekeeper said. “I was making my patrol and then I heard...Oh, those are your students? What did they say? Well...Alright then.”

The gatekeeper looked over the railing and motioned his head while speaking.

“Your professor wants a word with you two, don’t worry you’re not in trouble. Sorry for the scare!”

As they both walked up, they saw Professor Byleth in a casual outfit instead of his uniform, and looked at the two. Ashe was the first one to speak up.

“I-I’m sorry sir, I didn’t mean to cause you trou-”

Byleth raised his hand up and gestured for Ashe to be quiet.

He looked at Marianne and noticed her eyes were red, and the blanket over her. He pretty much deciphered what was going on by that one glance.

“It’s no trouble. I know that guardsman so it’s fine. Next time you come, just be a little quieter and let me know beforehand so you don’t give a knight a heart attack, alright?”

They both nodded.

“Alright. And before you ask, Ashe, I’ve been following you ever since I noticed you were carrying that blanket and started walking quickly to the Cathedral when you thought no one was walking.”

“...I-I see.”

“I’ll walk you back to your rooms. Get some rest, I don’t want you falling asleep during the lecture after all.”

Byleth walked both of them back to their dorm rooms, and both drifted off to sleep. Ashe was happy to help Marianne, and Marianne held the blanket closely to her as she slept.

BONUS EPILOGUE -

Once lectures had ended for the week, everyone packed up their belongings and started making way.

Ashe organized his papers until he heard Byleth calling out to him.

“Ashe, come here for a moment, would you?”

He nervously gulped, and walked towards Byleth who was standing with his arms crossed and standing behind his desk.

“This...is about last night, right?”

Byleth nodded, and reached into his desk and pulled out a small pouch.

Ashe had no idea what it was, and when he looked back, Byleth was smiling.

“Gatekeeper told me what you two were talking about, cause apparently there was some shouting last night. So on that note, you plan to treat her to something nice tonight, right?”

Ashe’s brain cells collectively halted their thinking process upon hearing that last part.

“...Seriously? Tch, good thing I talked to Dorothea about this kinda thing...Anyways, treat her to something nice in town. Nice little joint called ‘The Shepherds’, ran by a girl named Anna. Tell her I sent you, she’ll treat you two nice.”

“...U-Um, thank you so much professor!”

Byleth smiled and before Ashe turned around, he said one more thing.

“They’re open late, and since tomorrow’s a free day, I’ll make sure not to schedule anything for that. Weather should be pretty, so ask her at the Cathedral tonight.”

Ashe nodded and excitedly ran back to his room.

Byleth shook his head still smiling as he heard a girl’s voice in his head.

“That was quite a bit of your personal funds. Was that really wise to do?”

“Meh, it’s pocket change really. Plus it’ll get them motivated for class, and thats the main reason.”

“You say that, but I can hear your thoughts, you know?”

Byleth said nothing as he continued to smile and began grading papers.

Later that night...

Ashe stood in front of the doors, his heart gently pounding like a drum, and opened the door to see Marianne.

“Hey, Marianne!”

“Oh, Ashe...!”

“Were you praying just now?”

“No I...was waiting on you, actually. I wanted to say thank you.”

His heart stopped when he saw Marianne smile with the moon shining on her face perfectly.

She looked heavenly, so much so he almost completely forgot what he was going to ask beforehand.

“Ashe? I-Is something wrong?”

“Huh?! N-N-No! Not at all it’s just...your smile was...really pretty.”

“O-Oh...”

They both looked down in embarrassment before Ashe cleared his throat and finally mustered up the words.

“Well if you were waiting for me...Would you like to have dinner with me?”

[fortheheavenssake]

💟💟 PG MM Anon(II) 💟💟 Interpretation Collection - 7

43. June 10

MM ANON … Gone……………everything is now B&W…………… “ but’ tomorrow is another day”………… “ but old thing, I look like bloody Bela Lugosi” ………… “ shutup Philip”……… “ just Take the bloody picture “.………”they’ve hardly ever been on a train William “………… “ yes , they’d be very excited 😜 “ ………… 🎼we’re all going to the zoo tomorrow 🎼…………… she lies for exposure……… yachting’ secret exposure !! …………… this time it’s explosive!! ………… “ great scoop Beth.”

*Entertainment purposes

💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻😊😊THANK YOU DEAR MM ANON😊😊🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜

JUNE 10/2020. RIDDLE #43

Gone…….everything is now B&W…………… “

OUR WORLD HAS COMPLETELY CHANGED. I DO NOT HAVE TO TELL YOU THIS, YOU ALL ALREADY KNOW THIS.MANY ARE ARE FEELING IT, FEAR, ANXIETY, WHAT HAPPENS NEXT? GONE, IN A FLEETING MOMENT, BOTH SIDES OF THE ATLANTIC. STATUES HAVE BEEN DESECRATED AND TAKEN DOWN. OR WORSE YET A LONDON BASED AMERICAN MUSEUM COORDINATOR HAS TWEETED WHAT CHEMICALS TO USE TO DESTROY STATUES AND THE LIKE. OK WHERE WILL THIS GO? THERE IS NO GREY ANYMORE, ITS AS CONCRETE AS IT GETS BLACK AND WHITE. BUT LIFE IS NEVER SO SIMPLE. LIFE IS NUANCED WITH A ZILLION SHADES OF GREY.

“but’ tomorrow is another day”…………

THE LAST LINE IN GONE WITH THE WIND, AFTER RHETT BUTLER SAYS TO THE GORGEOUS VIVIEN LEIGH PORTRAYING SCARLETT OHARA, FRANKLY MY DEAR I DON’T GIVE A DAMN. CONTROVERSIAL LANGUAGE AT THE TIME. THEY TOOK FOREVER TO CAST THE ROLE OF SCARLETT BECAUSE THE BOOK WAS SO POPULAR THEY NEEDED AN ACTRESS THAT PEOPLE HAD ENVISIONED.I USED TO HAVE THE MOVIE POSTER THAT I BOUGHT AT AN ANTIQUE SALE, NOW I HAVE NO CLUE WHAT HAPPENED TO IT. SHE SHRUGS HER SHOULDERS AND SAYS AH WELL TOMORROW IS ANOTHER DAY. GREAT FILM. IN NO WAY GLORIFIES THE OLD SOUTH. SHOWS HOW CUNNING AND RUTHLESS FEMALES HAD TO BE TO SURVIVE.

“ but old thing, I look like bloody Bela Lugosi” ………… “ shutup Philip”……… “ just Take the bloody picture “.………”they’ve hardly ever been on a train William “………… “ yes , they’d be very excited 😜 “ …………

PHOTOS RELEASED TODAY ARE MARVELLOUS, NOT TAKEN BY CATHERINE BUT BY STEVE PARSONS. THIS TOOK PLACE DURING THE PHOTO SESSION. HIMSELF THINKS HE LOOKS LIKE THE FABULOUS BELA LUGOSI. CLASSIC HORROR STAR FROM THE 1930’S. HMTQ IS HAVING NONE OF HIS BEHAVIOUR TODAY. TYPICAL HIMSELF JUST TAKE THE BLOODY OR IS IT F****** PICTURE🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂😂.

HMTQ IS TALKING TO WILLIAM, ANTICIPATING THE ARRIVAL OF THE CAMBRIDGES. THE CHILDREN HAVE NEVER TAKEN THE TRAIN. I AM CERTAIN THEY WILL ALL HAVE LOTS TO TELL GAN GAN AND HIMSELF. WILLIAM IS CHERKY IN HER WINKY REPLY THAT A TRAIN RIDE IS MORE EXCITING THAN TIK TOK OR WHATEVER THE YOUNG ONES FANCY.

🎼we’re all going to the zoo tomorrow 🎼……………

CLASSIC CHILDREN’S SONG. I BET EVEN LITTLE LOUIS WILL BE ABLE TO TAKE PART IN THE BIRTHDAY TIK TOK PERFORMANCE FOR THE BIRTHDAY GENTLEMAN. HOW I WOULD LOVE TO SEE THAT VIDEO💜💜💜💜💜💜.

she lies for exposure……… yachting’ secret exposure !! …………… this time it’s explosive!! ………… “ great scoop Beth.”

WELL WELL WELL, WE ALL KNOW MADAM IS A LIE MACHINE. CONSTANTLY GRINDING THEM OUT. SOMEONE HAS BOTTEN INTO WHAT FORMERLY HAS BEEN SCRUBBED OFF HARD DRIVES, THE INTERNET. OR IS SOMEONE TALKING, A CAREFULLY CURATED SOURCE? SOUNDS LIKE THIS TIME IT WILL GO PUBLIC AND IT WILL BE EXPLOSIVE. EVERYTHING IS EXPLOSIVE THE LAST FEW WEEKS. SO WHO IS BETH THAT GOT THE GREAT SCOOP, MEANING A GREAT STORY FOR PAPERS OR OTHER MEDIA IE ONLINE OR MAGAZINE. ELIZABETH HOLMES HAS BEEN WRITING ABOUT THE ROYAL FOR YEARS. SHE ALSO SPENT A DECADE OR SO WORKING AT THE WALL STREET JOURNAL. I WONDER IF THIS IS THE “BETH” IN QUESTION WHO MAY HAVE SUSSED DETAILS ABOUT DINO YACHTING EXPLOSIVE DETAILS.

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦🇬🇧🇦🇺🇳🇿

——————

44. June 11

MM ANON …… dib dib dib……… one metre before July …………care-ing monarch online ……… 🎼What picture,what a photograph 🎼………… DOC museum of photography ? ………. Columbus falls……… “ I shall insist it’s the best TTC old thing “ …………a trace race. ………… Sunday Balmoral?? ………… “ plenty of fresh air for them” ……… “ in the lodge” ……… “C&C can stay here” ……………” your good at this zoom lark old thing “…………… “Group Of eight, a dinner party “

*Entertainment purposes

✝️✝️🌈🌈🌈💟💟THANK YOU DEAR MM ANON💟💟🌈🌈🌈✝️✝️

JUNE 11/2020. RIDDLE#44

I CANNOT BELIEVE IT IS 44 RIDDLES ALREADY!☺️

dib dib dib……….

DIB DIB DIB IS DO YOUR BEST. BOY SCOUT CODE. ROBERT BADEN-POWELL STARTED THE WELL KNOW ORGANIZATION IN 1907. THERE IS A STATUE OR A SITUE REALLY, YOU CAN SIT NEXT TO IT IN POOLE. THERE WAS REAL CONCERN THAT PROTESTORS WERE GOING TO DESTROY IT. I POSTED THAT EARLY THIS MORNING HOW THE LOCALS STOOD UP AND AROUND HIM PROTECT8NG THE STATUE. NOW THE COUNCIL HAS PROVIDED SECURITY UNTIL IT CAN BE REMOVED. HOWEVER, AN ONLINE PETITION HAS ALREADY 15,000+ SIGNATURES TO KEEP IT. TIME WILL TELL. THE PROTESTORS HAVE A PREMADE LIST OF STATUES AROUND THE WHOLE COUNTRY. THIS HAS BEEN RESEARCHED FUNDED AND PLANNED FOR QUITE SOME TIME.

one metre before July …………

THE HOPE AND PLANS ARE , ALL THINGS BEING EQUAL AND THINGS CONTINUE, THAT PHYSICAL DISTANCING GUIDELINES WILL DECREASE FROM THE TWO METRE IT HAS BEEN TO REDUCED TO ONE METRE BY JULY. OH WON’T THAT BE MARVELLOUS. THEN 🤗 HUGGING.

care-ing monarch online ………

TODAY HMTQ AND THE PRINCESS ROYAL HAD A ZOOM MEETING CALL WITH HEALTH CARERS, THE EFFORTS OF VOLUNTEER WEEK. IT WAS HMTQ’S FIRST ZOOM CALL MEETING. THE CARERS WERE EXPECTING PRINCESS ANNE AND WERE BEYOND GOBSMACKED DELIGHTED THAT HMTQ WAS THERE AS WELL! JUST IMAGINE THAT! BIG EXCITEMENT FOR SURE.

🎼What picture,what a photograph 🎼………… DOC museum of photography ? ……….

OUR CATHERINE HAS BEEN SHOWING US SOME OF THE PHOTOS IN THE VARIOUS PRE DETERMINED CATEGORIES, FOR THE HOLD STILL, PHOTO EXHIBIT. IT IS TO DETAIL HOW ENGLAND HAS DEALT WITH THE PANDEMIC FROM DIFFERENT VIEWPOINTS. THE TIC TAC TOE ONE THROUGH THE GLASS WINDOW WITH A CHILD PLAYING ON ONE SIDE AND A SENIOR ON THE OTHER IS VERY TOUCHING. THERE IS STILL TIME TO SUBMIT SHE SAID YESTERDAY. THEN THE TOUGH JOB OF PICKING THE 100 PHOTOS FOR THE EXHIBIT. I HAVE SAID THIS BEFORE, I HOPE THEY MAKE IT INTO A BOOK.

Columbus falls………

ANOTHER VICTIM. THE STATUE OF CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS IS BOSTON WAS BEHEADED LAST NIGHT. NO RESPECT. WILL THEY GUARD EACH PUBLIC PLACE IF POLICE ARE DEFUNDED? THE MAYOR HAS ORDERED AN INVESTIGATION AND DISCUSSIONS ON WHETHER THE REMAINING PART SHOULD BE REMOVED.

“ I shall insist it’s the best TTC old thing “ …………

TWIN TRACK CANTILEVER RAIL TRAVEL. HIMSELF IS INSISTING THIS IS THE BEST WAY TO GO TO BALMORAL. CAR TOO LONG, PLANE TOO SHORT. PLUS SHE HAS HER OWN TRAIN!

a trace race. …………

IT IS HARD TO KNOW THESE DAYS IF YOU ARE REFERRING TO THE U.K. OR AMERICA. I SHALL PICK THE U.K. ON MAY 29/2020, , U.K. LAUNCHED ITS TEST-AND-TRACE SYSTEM. EVEN PEOPLE WITH NO SYMPTOMS AT ALL WOULD HAVE TO QUARANTINE FOR 14 DAYS. SAID TO BE VOLUNTARY BUT IF PEOPLE DID NOT COMPLY THEY COULD BY LAW BE MADE TO COMPLY. AS OF ONE HOUR AGO, AN ONLINE REPORT SAYS 31,000 CONTACTS AND 85% OF THOSE HAD BEEN CONTACTED TO ISOLATE AND 8,000 HAD GONE ON TO TEST POSITIVE FOR COVID-19.SO IT REALLY TRULY IS A RACE TO TRACE.

Sunday Balmoral?? ………… “ plenty of fresh air for them” ……… “ in the lodge” ……… “C&C can stay here” ……………” your good at this zoom lark old thing “…………… “Group Of eight, a dinner party “

THE BEST PART OF MY DAY, FOREVER ALWAYS DEAR MM ANON💜💜💜. HIMSELF AND HMTQ IN THE SITTING ROOM. THEY ARE NOW BINGE WATCHING, MY SUGGESTION OF BOARDWALK EMPIRE. FOR THE CLOTHES AND MUSIC ALONE ITS FABULOUS. SOUNDS LIKE THEY HEAD UP TO BALMORAL ON SUNDAY. LOOKING SO FORWARD TO THE CAMBRIDGES COMING, PLANNING STUFF THE LITTKE ONES TO DO.ENJOY ALL THINGS OUTDOORS. SOUNDS LIKE THE CAMBRIDGES WILL STAY AT THE LODGE. CHARLES AND CAMILLA ARE COMING AND THEY CAN STAY RIGHT IN BALMORAL PROPER. HIMSELF IS GIVING HMTQ GOOD COMMENTS ON HER ZOOM MEETING, HER VERY FIRST. WHAT A MODERN QUEEN WE HAVE!! DINNER PARTY OF EIGHT OK LET’S SEE HMTQ, HIMSELF, CHARLES, CAMILLA, WILLIAM, CATHERINE, TWO MORE?? HARRY AND ????😁😁😁😁

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦🇬🇧🇦🇺🇳🇿

——————

45. June 12

MM ANON …… my BFF , sacked……… mr President,welcome ……… on mental health ‘ goal……… “they’ll still turn up old thing “………… “ they won’t see anything Philip “ ……… Boris,incandescent!! ……… “🍕 Pizza night children “………… “ thecrown old thing “ ……… “ NO!!” ………… “ we haven’t finished peakyblinders” ……… “ bloody brummies” ……… “ PHILIP!!………… Sydney ‘ we’re out of your refreshment sir “ ………… WHAT!!

*Entertainment purposes

✝️✝️🌈🌈🌈💟💟THANK YOU DEAR MM ANON💟💟🌈🌈🌈✝️✝️

JUNE 12/2020. RIDDLE#45

my BFF , sacked………

WELL WELL WELL, THE SWORD OF JUSTICE HAS BEEN WIELDED, AND SHE DID IT ALL BY HER OWN ARROGANT SELF. MADAM’S BFF JM, I KNOW YOU ALL KNOW THIS ALL SO I WONT GO INTO EVERY DETAIL. BUT ALAS POOR 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂😂I CANNOT HELP MYSELF, YOU SEE GOD GAVE US FREE WILL, SHE MADE HER OWN CHOICES. SHE CHOSE TO GO AFTER A FELLOW FEMALE CANADIAN, 🇨🇦, WOC, RELATIVELY UNKNOWN, SASHA EXETER. HEY DEAR, LADYKINRANNOCH, YOU HAVE BEEN THINKING EXETER IN YOUR RIDDLES, HERE IS GODS SENSE OF HUMOUR AND AFFIRMING YOUR INSTINCTS THAT EXETER WOULD PLAY A MAJOR ROLE!!!! THE COURAGEOUS BLOGGER WENT PUBLIC, GOT A FAUX WRITTEN SM APOLOGY FROM THE WOKE JM LOOKING AFTER HERSELF. LITERALLY MINUTES LATER JM MESSAGED HER ABOUT “Liabele suit”. I GUESS THAT IS A NEW LAW 🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂. SO SHE WENT PUBLIC AGAIN, SASHA I MEAN, SHOWING THE MESSAGE THE TIME OF IT AND CORRECTING QUEEN JM ERROR ON LIBEL. WELL SINCE THE, JM HAS BEEN SWIFTLY DROPPED BY EVERYONE. NO MORE PUBLIC SHOWING OFF, HER INSTAGRAM FOLLOWERS DROPPING LIKE FLIES. YESTERDAY I SAID MADAM WOULD GHOST HER. CHECK THE DM. SHE HAS DISTANCE BUT ONLY IN PUBLIC. WHAT KIND OF TOMFOOLERY IS THAT? HOWEVER THEY HOLD MANY SECRETS BETWEEN THE TWO. ITS COMING RACHEL, TICK TOCK. CLOCK 🕰. I WONDER IF SHE HAS BLOCKED HER ON HER PHONE 📱?

mr President,welcome ………

NEXT WEEK POTUS IS HAVING HIS FIRST RALLY IN TULSA, OKLAHOMA. A STATE WHERE HE IS VERY POPULAR. THERE IS A DATE IN AMERICA AND ACTUALLY A HOKIDAY IS SOME PLACES CALLED JUNETEENTH, I HAD NEVER EVER EVER HEARD OF THIS BEFORE BUT IT IS ON THAT DATE. THERE WAS THE END OF SLAVERY CENTURY OR MORE AGO A VIOLENT MASSACRE TOOK PLACE. ESPECIALLY IN THE SWIRLING GLOBAL TIME THIS WOULD BE SEEN BY MANY AS NOT A GOOD PLACE AND TIME. HOWEVER HE IS BEING WIDELY AND HIS SUPPORTERS ARE WIDELY ENCOURAGING HIM TO COME. TIME WILL TELL.

on mental health ‘ goal……… “

THIS COULD GO ANYWHERE. BUT ESPECIALLY NOW, MENTAL HEALTH IS LOW ON THE RADAR DESPITE ALL THE GOOD WORK DONE. HEADS TOGETHER FULLY PUT SUPPORT BEHIND BLM ON JUNE 2/2020 BUT THAT HAS BEEN LOST. ONCE THINGS SETTLE DOWN, WE WILL BE NEEDING MENTAL HEALTH FORMAL AND INFORMAL HELP. BY THE WAY, THERE STILL IN A PANDEMIC. CASES IN THE NORTHWEST AND SOUTHWEST AMERICA ARE INCREASING VASTLY IN THE LAST TWO WEEKS. PROTESTS IN ENGLAND, WATCH FOR CASES TO SKYROCKET WITH THESE PROTESTS.

“they’ll still turn up old thing “………… “ they won’t see anything Philip “ ………

WORRY BY HMTQ, HIMSELF REASSURING HMTQ. SHE IS SO WORRIED THE CAMBRIDGES MAY NOT BE ABLE TO COME,DUE TO THE STATE OF THE WORLD. HIMSELF REASSURING HER THAT THEY WILL BE SHIELDED FROM THE NEDIA BY THEIR PARENTS, AND ARRIVE SAFELY AND SECURELY.

Boris,incandescent!! ………

SO MUCH FOR THE PREVIOUS PLANS TO HAVE THE SOCIAL BUBBLE INCREASE THIS WEEKEND. THE WORLD IS ON FIRE, QUITE LITERALLY IN SOME PLACE. THE WORD INCANDESCENT , MM ANON, IS PERFECTO, TO DESCRIBE BOTH HIS RAGE AND THE FIRES, MAYHEM, ANARCHY TAKING PLACE.NOW A CURFEW IN LONDON. HIS PMSHIP HAS FACED SO MUCH DIFFICULTY. COVID, HIS COVID NEARLY DYING, CAME BACK TO WORK SO SOON, THE DOMINIC CUMMINGS CONTROVERSY WHICH SEEMS YEARS AGO NOW, THE PROTESTS MAYHEM, DESTRUCTION , ERASING OF HISTORY. BY THE WAY, RACHEL, YOU’RE ERASING FROM PHOTOS , IN BRITISH HISTORY IS ALREADY IN PROCESS. THE LEGAL PART IS IN PROCESS. TIFK TOCK. CURFEW, STATUES BOARDED UP AND METAL SHIELDS AROUND THEM, TWO SEPARATE ROUTES FOR PROTESTERS TOMORROW IE BLM AND THOSE THAT WANT STATUES PRESERVED AND WANT THEIR VOICES HEARD. MARCHES CANCELLED FRIDAY BUT SATURDAY TWO SEPARATE ROUTES WILL BE POLICE CONTROLLED SND NO VIOLENCE WILL BE TOLERATED. EXPECT HUGE CROWDS AND A HUGE POLICE AND POSSIBLE MILITARY PRESENCE TO MAINTAIN CIVILITY.

“🍕 Pizza night children “………… “ thecrown old thing “ ……… “ NO!!” ………… “ we haven’t finished peakyblinders” ……… “ bloody brummies” ……… “ PHILIP!!………… Sydney ‘ we’re out of your refreshment sir “ ………… WHAT!!

WELL SEEM THE CAMBRIDGES HAVING PIZZA NIGHT AS SO MANY DO ON FRIDAYS.

WINDSOR CASTLE SITTING ROOM. HIMSELF AND HMTQ ARE DISCUSSING DVD’S. HEY I TOLD YOU YESTERDAY THAT THEY WERE BINGE WATCHING BOARDWALK EMPIRE PER MY SUGGESTION. WHAT HAPPENED TO THAT?? SYDNEY, SYDNEY YOU ARE IN TROUBLE WITH 💜💜PG💜💜😁😁😁WHERE ARE MY DVD’S😁🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂😂. I KNOW THE UK IS IN DIFFERENT DVD ZONE BUT YOU MUST HAVE ALL THE ZONE DVD PLAYERS RIGHT??

WELL HIMSELF ASKS IF SHE WANTS TO REWATCH THE CROWN BUT SHE REMINDS HIM THEY WERE STILL ON PB BORROWING FROM CATHERINE’S COLLECTION. HE IS MUTTERING THE NICKNAME FOR THOSE FROM BIRMINGHAM, WHERE PB TAKES PLACE BASED ON A BIRMINGHAM STREET GANG IN THE EARLY 20TH CENTURY.HMTQ DOES NOT LIKE THE USE OF THAT TERM SCOLDING HIM. OH MY STARS, BEVVIE TIME AND THEY ARE OUT OF BODDINGTONS😮😮😮😮😮😮😮 🍺 🍺 🍺. NOW THIS RIGHT HERE IS A NATIONAL EMERGENCY FOR HIMSELF.

PLEASE STAY SAFE AND CALM DEAR HMTQ AND SIR, MANY ARE DEEPLY IN PRAYER 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦🇬🇧🇦🇺🇳🇿

——————

46. June 14

MM ANON …HMTQ was social distancing ……… beautiful in blue……… “ amazing bloody parade “…… to Broach the subject …… “ you looked magnificent old thing”. ……… KHAN GET IT RIGHT …… a WEE disturbing …… hugs 🤗 not bugs……… the China syndrome ……… open market 😱😱😱………… won’t ring Beijing …………… “ Ahhh, Sydney, you refreshed the refreshments “ ………” ignore him Sydney “………… “ I found an old vidio TTC , 1975 Old thing, our favourite hits” ……… “ those were ones days” ………” we looked the mutts-nuts old thing

* Entertainment purposes

✝️✝️🌈🌈🌈💟💟THANK YOU DEAR MM ANON💟💟🌈🌈🌈✝️✝️

JUNE 14/2020 RIDDLE WAS FROM JUNE 13/2020

RIDDLE#46

HMTQ was social distancing ……… beautiful in blue……… “ amazing bloody parade “…… to Broach the subject …… “ you looked magnificent old thing”. ………

THE PARED DOWN TROOPING THE COLOUR WAS MARVELLOUS. HMTQ WORE AN OUTFIT FOR THE THIRD OCCASION, LAST WORN WAS BIG BROO HAHA IS IT GREEN IS IT BLUE. I SAY SHE WAS BEAUTIFUL IN EITHER COLOUR, MM ANON IS SIDING WITH BLUE. SOCIAL OR PHYSICAL DISTANCING WHILST SEATED FOR SURE. I THOUGHT WHEN THEY WALKED BACK INSIDE THERE WAS NOT QUITE TWO METRES APART BUT HEY SHE IS THE QUEEN!!! HOW GORGEOUS DID SHE LOOK THOUGH, MY MY MY. I HAVE THE PLEASURE OF OWNING THE VINTAGE BOOK, QUEEN ELIZABETH ll JEWELRY COLLECTION BY LESLIE FIELD. I GOT IT FOR MY BIRTHDAY LAST YEAR. IT WAS PUBLISHED IN 1987. IT CONTAINS SO MUCH INFORMATION AND PHOTOS. I KNOW MANY OF YOU REMEMBER THIS BECAUSE I WENT ON AND ON ABOUT HOW EXCITED I WAS AT THE TIME.🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂. THE WELSH GUARDS WERE ON DISPLAY, AS TRIBUTE TO THEM, SHE WORE HER WELSH GUARDS LEEK BROACH. NOTHING EVER EVER GETS LEFT UNDONE BY HMTQ. I AM CERTAIN IT WAS A BLESSING HAVING ANGELA KELLY WITH HER AT WINDSOR WHILE ISOLATING. SHE IS HER EVERYTHING GO TO, DRESSER , SHOE WEARER INNER, 🤣🤣🤣🤣NEW WORDS. ANYHOW I ALSO HAVE THE PRIVILEGE OF HAVING ANGELA KELKY’S MOST RECENT BOOK. A GIFT AGAIN FOR CHRISTMAS.

KHAN GET IT RIGHT …… a WEE disturbing …… hugs 🤗 not bugs………

DESPITE THE BEST EFFORTS THERE WERE SOME VERY SCARY MOMENTS IN THE U.K. VARIOUS CITIES CONTENDING WITH BLM, OTHER GROUPS AND THEN THE FAR RIGHT,FOOTBALL HOOLIGANS, EDL, ENGLISH DEFENCE LEAGUE AND OTHERS. THE OFFICIALS HAD DONE WELL TO CREATE BARRIERS AND DIFFERENT ROUTES FOR OPPOSING GROUPS BUT THE RAGE AND ANGER CAUGHT THE POLICE IN THE MIDDLE. I SO SO HATE SEEING BENDING OF THE KNEE. THIS POLICE SHOULD NOT BE REQUIRED TO GET ON THEIR KNEE EVER!! I BEND MY KNEE FOR NO HUMAN, CHRIST AND GOD ALONE, TO MY DEATH. THE CURFEW OF 1700HRS OF COURSE WAS NOT COMPLIED WITH. SO MUCH CRITICISM OF LONDON’S MAYOR KHAN. I FEEL LIKE SINCE HE HAS BEEN MAYOR HE HAS BEEN CRITICIZED GOING BACK TO HIS RESPONSE TO THE FIRST LONDON BRIDGE TERROR INCIDENT AND MANY SUCH THINGS SINCE THEN. I MUST SAY HE CANNOT GET IT RIGHT AND I AM EXTREMELY GLAD THE PM HAD STATUES PROTECTED BECAUSE I CAN SAY WITHOUT A DOUBT, I DO BELIEVE SOME WOULD HAVE BEEN DESECRATED OR DESTROYED. THIS IS SO UPSETTING.

I INCLUDED HUGS NOT BUGS IN HERE BECAUSE THERE WAS NO PHYSICAL DISTANCING AT ALL, LOTS OF SCREAMING, BLOOD, ETC, VERY FEW MASKS, NONE ON POLICE OFFICERS AND CERTAINLY ABSOLUTELY NO HUGGING. THIS IS A CESSPOOL FOR THE CORONAVIRUS TO LIVE, THRIVE AND SPREAD.

the China syndrome ……… open market 😱😱😱………… won’t ring Beijing ……………

GREAT MOVIE BUT THIS IS , SADLY, NOT A MOVIE. THE LARGEST MARKET IN BEIJING HAS BEEN CLOSED DOWN AND LOCKDOWN HAS BEEN IMPOSED AFTER COVID-19 DISCOVERED. THIS IS SO SCARY BECAUSE TIL NOW THE ONLY COVID IN CHINA WAS IN WUHAN , AT LEAST THAT IS WHAT WAS TOLD. WUHAN WAS SHUT DOWN BUT SOMEHOW IT STILL SPREAD ALL THOSE MONTHS AGO. YEAH BEST NOT RING BEIJING JUST NOW, THEY HAVE A MAJOR CRISIS. HOW LONG HAS THIS BEEN THERE? AS CASES IN THE UNITED STATES SOUTHWEST AND FLORIDA INCREASE, THERE IS TALK OF THE SECOND WAVE OR THAT BEING PART OF THE FIRST WAVE. OH DEARIE ME.

“ Ahhh, Sydney, you refreshed the refreshments “ ………” ignore him Sydney “………… “ I found an old vidio TTC , 1975 Old thing, our favourite hits” ……… “ those were ones days” ………” we looked the mutts-nuts old thing

OH DEARIE ME, THANK GOD SYNDEY FOUND SOME BODDIES FOR HIMSELF😁😁😁😁😁😁 CRISIS AVERTED!!! HMTQ TELLS SYDNEY TO IGNORE HIMSELF’S COMMENTS. SOUNDS LIKE HE FOUND AN OLD VHS OF TROOPING THE COLOUR FROM 1975. GREAT MEMORIES, FAVOURITE HITS AN D THOSE WERE THE DAYS, A LINE TO MEAN REMINISCING BUT ALSO A TV SHOW, GREAT SHOW. DID YOU KNOW ARCHIE BUNKER, ALL IN THE FAMILY WAS AN AMERICAN REMAKE OF THOSE WERE THE DAYS?? I DO NOT HONESTLY KNOW WHY OR HOW MY BRAIN STORES THIS INFORMATION BUT IT DOES COME IN HANDY😁😁🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂. HIMSELF COMMENTING HOW THEY LOOKED, I THINK MUCH BETTER THAN HIS THOUGHTS. HE IS QUITE THE GENT,🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂🥰🥰

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦🇬🇧🇦🇺🇳🇿

—————-

47. June 14

MM ANON …… Adeleville……… Westfield?? ………… Charlottes delivery …………… 🎼grab the cash with both hands🎼………… another scam charity …………… she’s a race… ist ………… she publishes the book ………………… we will destroy her, we have the tapes…… “ no more Mrs, nice ma’am!! “ ………… “ ones gloves are orf Christopher ………… “ it was a very good year,old thing “.

ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY

✝️✝️🌈🌈🌈💟💟THANK YOU DEAR MM ANON💟💟🌈🌈🌈✝️✝️

JUNE 14/2020. RIDDLE#47

Adeleville……… Westfield?? …………

SIX BLOCKS OF SEATTLE HAVE BEEN TAKEN OVER BY A VARIETY OF ANTISOCIAL INDIVIDUALS THE AREA WAS CALLED CHAZ, CAPITAL HILL AUTONOMOUS ZONE, NOW IT IS CALLED CHOP, CAPITAL HILL OCCUPIED PROTEST. SO MAYBE MADAM HAS SOUGHT SOLACE IN AN AUTONOMOUS TERRITORY ENTITLED ADEL WITH ADELEVILLE OR WESTFIELD WITH KANYE AND KIM K🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂😂. MADAM HAS SWITCHED HARD FROM THE ARCHEWELL FOUNDATION TO FOCUSING ON SUPPORTING BLM, WHILE OF COURSE STILL GIVING 110% OF HER ATTENTION TO COVID.

Charlottes delivery ……………

ONE OF MY FAVOURITE COSMETICS LINES IS CHARLOTTE TILBURY. I HAVE SO MUCH ITS CRAZY!!! SHE HAS BEEN PURSUED BY MULTI BULLION DOLLAR COMPANIES AND SHE HAS A COMPANY WORTH ONE BILLION AND A BIT, WHICH SHE OUTRIGHT OWNS 50% OF . SHE HAS FINALLY SOLD TO AFTER WEEKS OF SPECULATION TO PUIG, A SPANISH COMPANY. I AM SO EXCITED FOR HER. SHE WILL LIKELY CONTINUE GREAT CREATIVE CONTROL. THIS IS PUIGS FIRST VENTURE INTO COSMETICS. WOWZA ALL IN FOR OVER A BILLION POUNDS OR DOLLARS. I PRAY QUALITY DOESNT CHANGE AS SO OFTEN HAPPENS WHEN BRANDS ARE SOLD. SHE HAS SUCH A LOYAL FOLLOWING I KNIW GIRLS ARE ALREADY STOCKING UP ON HER MAGIC CREAM BECAUSE THEY ARE AFRAID THE FORMULA WILL CHANGE. CONGRATS CHARLOTTE!!!! https://www.glossy.co/beauty/what-puigs-acquisition-of-charlotte-tilbury-means-for-beauty

🎼grab the cash with both hands🎼…………

CHA CHING CHA CHING. MM ANON I HAVE BEEN WAITING JUST WAITING FOR YOU TO RETURN TO ONE OF YOUR FAVOURITES, PINK FLOYD, MONEY. SMASH AND GRAB. ANY AND ALL THINGS TO GET MONEY. NO LIMITS AND LINES , ANYTHING, DO ANYTHING FOR MONEY, POWER AND PRESTIGE. THIS DESCRIBES MADAM ABSOLUTELY TO A T. CHA CHING. I CAN HEAR THAT BASE LINE AND THE CASH MACHINE SOUND FROM THE SONG AS I TYPE THIS.

another scam charity ……………

MADAM HAS SAID NOW THE ARCHEWELL FOUNDATION WILL BE PUT ON HOLD UNTIL 2021. CAN YOU RUN A FOUNDATION IN AN ORANGE JUMPSUIT? THERE HAS BEEN WORD IN A ARTICLE TODAY THAT MADAM IS STILL MOST DEFINITELY INVOLVED WITH SMARTWORKS. HOW MANY PIES CAN YOU HAVE YOUR FINGERS IN? SW, MM, BLM, SUSSEX, ARCHEWELL, COVID, MERCHING, AND EVERYTHING ELSE WE HAVE NO KNOWLEDGE OF, BUT BET YOUR BOTTOM DOLLAR THERE IS A WHOLE LOT MORE!!

https://www.thesun.co.uk/fabulous/11861898/meghan-markle-prince-harry-archwell-delay-black-lives-matter/

MADAM HAS NOW STATED THAT HERSELF AND HARRY😂😂😂😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣🤣, WILL FOCUS ON BLM AND COVID. TELL ME WHAT SHE HAS DONE FOR COVID? FAKE DELIVERIES BY HIRED ACTORS. WOW HOW DEDICATED YOU ARE RACHEL. SO STARTING A BLM CHARITY, WHERE WILL THE FUNDS GO, WHO WILL MONITOR ETC ETC ETC??

she’s a race… ist …………

JM HAS COMPLETELY LOST EVERY SINGLE THAT SHE FEEDS ON, PUBLIC ATTENTION, INSTAGRAM, GMA, CITYLINE, ETC ETC AND SHE DID IT ALL HERSELF. STORIES ARE COMING OUT OF THE WOODWORK FROM MODELS, PROFESSIONALS, WOC, HOW SHE TREATED THEM COMPARED TO WHITE WOMEN. SHE ALLEGEDLY HAS HAD A CONTINUED PATTERN OF THIS. SO SHE IS SCREAMING HER BEST FRIEND IS A WOC AND SHE HAS WATCHED HER BE TREATED IN A RACIST MANNER. YEAH RIGHT ESPECIALLY HARD TO SEE SINCE MADAM LEGALLY ON PAPER HAS SELF IDENTIFIED AS WHITE, AS CAUCASIAN. WOC ONLY ONCE IT WAS USEFUL AFTER JOINING THE BRF. BUT SHE NEVER REALLY TRULY JOINED THE FAMILY. JM’S REPUTATION IS IN THE GARBAGE AND IN THIS SEASON THERE IS NO COMING BACK FOR HER. I HOPE BEN HANGS ON TO MORNING CANADA AND ETALK. HAVE NOT HEARD A PEEP FROM HIM. GOOD THING DADDY IS A BILLIONAIRE EH JESS?? HER PARENTS ON THE FRONT PAGE OF THE DM WITH THE CHILDREN. SHE IS AT HOME SCREAMING, DRINKING PINK WATER.

she publishes the book ………………… we will destroy her, we have the tapes…… “ no more Mrs, nice ma’am!! “ ………… “ ones gloves are orf Christopher ………… “ it was a very good year,old thing “.

HMTQ AND HIMSELF MEETING OR PHONE WITH LG, LORD CHRISTOPHER GEIDT, ABOUT WHERE THINGS GO NOW. IF SHE , MEANING MADAM PUBLISHES THE BOOK, MIO AND DURAND WROTE, THEY WILL CRUSH HER WITH THE TAPES THEY HAVE. LG NO MORE MR NICE GUY MEANING THE GLOVES ARE OFF, THIS IS THE ENDGAME NOW. HMTQ SLYLY SAYING IN THE FIRST PERSON AS MONARCHS SPEAK, STATING CLEARLY HER GLOVES ARE ORF, CHEEKY WAY OF SAYING OFF. SHE IS READY TO RUMBLE. ENOUGH IF FLIPPING ENOUGH. GOOD ON YOU MA’AM. IT WAS A VERY GOOD YEAR IS A CLASSIC SONG. AND THE LINE FITS BECAUSE FINALLY SEEING THAT SEAHAG WHORE WILL FACE JUSTICE AFTER DRAGGING THE ENTIRE FAMILY, COUNTRY, COMMONWEALTH, ROYAL LOVERS THROUGH ABSOLUTE HELL, AND OF COURSE OUR HARRY. OH I CAN HARDLY WAIT FOR THAT DAY. WE HAVE JM DEALT WITH PUBLICLY NOW SHE WILL FACE WHATEVER LEGAL ISSUES ARE TO COME. SYDNEY BRING THE DRINKS PLEASE, A TOAST IS DEFINITELY CALLED FOR 🥂 🍻 CHEERS.

✝️✝️🌈🌈🌈💟💟PG💟 💟 🌈🌈🌈✝️✝️

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦🇬🇧🇦🇺🇳🇿

——————-

48. June 15

MM ANON ……… Shetland lift-off……… LIZA with a ‘ don’t know em……………” it’s shopping Jim, but not as we show it……… “ matter of fact it’s all dark” …………… first jet easy ………… Brexit,old white guys drinking a lot. …………… a moment of reckoning ……… a virtual Wimbledon?? ………… Catherine to the rescue …… “ Ahhh , a relaxing night old thing “ …………… “Sydney’s provided a new box set” …… “Boardwalk Empire” ………“ bit violent old thing” ……… “ Epic Philip!!”…… “ones usual Sydney “………… “great!! No bloody tic toc.

*Entertainment purposes

✝️✝️✝️🌈🌈🌈💟💟💟THANK YOU DEAR MM ANON, THIS IS AN ESPECIALLY MEANINGFUL RIDDLE FOR ME, I THANK YOU FROM THE TOP OF MY HEAD TO MY TIPPIE TOES FOR INCLUDING BOARDWALK EMPIRE💕💕💕💕💕💕💟💟💟🌈🌈🌈✝️✝️✝️

JUNE 15/2020. RIDDLE#48

Shetland lift-off………

SHETLAND ISLANDS WAY WAY IN THE NORTH OF SCOTLAND. AMAZING TODAY FOR THE VERY FIRST TIME, A ROCKET WAS LAUNCHED THERE SUCCESSFULLY. I NEVER EVEN KNEW THERE WAS SUCH A PROGRAM THERE. THE SKYLARK NANO ROCKET WAS LAUNCHED FOR EDUCATIONAL PURPOSES. GATHERING DATA OF A METEOROLOGICAL NEED, GATHERING DATA ON WIND PATTERNS. I THINK LIKELY FOR FUTURE WIND FARMS POSSIBLY. SKYRORA IS BASED IN EDINBURGH. IMAGINE THAT! 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿

LIZA with a ‘ don’t know em……………

RUMOURS HAVE BEEN SWIRLING, HEAVEN ONLY KNOWS WHY BUT THAT MS MINELLI HAS BEEN CHUMMING WITH FAKE HARRY AND MADAM, AS IF!!! WELL TODAY, LIZA CAME OUT CATEGORICALLY PUT THAT LIE TO BED STATING COMPLETELY NO TRUTH TO IT.

“it’s shopping Jim, but not as we show it……… “

MM ANON LOVES THIS STAR TREK REFERENCE OF DR MCCOY TALKING TO CAPTAIN JAMES T. KIRK IN THE SCENE OF THE FILM SEARCH FOR SPOCK, WHEN THEY FINALLY FIND HIM, IT IS SPOCK, BUT NOT AS THEY KNEW HIM TO BE. STORES OPENING IN THE U.K. FIRST TIME SINCE LOCKDOWN. LONG QUEUES DUE TO THE RESTRICTIONS IN PLACE. PHYSICAL DISTANCING, CERTAIN NUMBER OF CUSTOMERS IN A STORE BASED ON SIZE ETC.

matter of fact it’s all dark” ……………

PINK FLOYD SONG ECLIPSE. MM ANON, FAVOURITE BAND, YOU HAVE USED THIS SONG PREVIOUSLY. Matter of fact, it’s all dark. The only thing that makes it look light is the sun.

HOW WE ARE PERCEIVING WHAT IS HAPPENING WITH ALL THESE RIOTS, PROTESTS, ANARCHY IN AMERICA. THERE IS LOTS OF DARK. BUT FAR FAR FAR MORE GOOD. GOOD IS ALL AROUND US. GOOD IS HERE ON TUMBLR. GOOD IS EACH OF US CARING FOR ONE ANOTHER. WE HAVE TO SHINE OUR LIGHT WHERE WE ARE.

first jet easy …………

EASY JET FLEW ITS FIRST FLIGHT IN ELEVEN WEEKS TODAY. MASKS WERE MANDATORY, NO ALCOHOL SERVED. A SMALL FLIGHT OF 51 PASSENGERS FLEW FROM GATWICK TO GLASGOW. I RECKON THAT IS A VERY VERY SHORT FLIGHT. THE CREW AND PASSENGERS WERE ALL CHUFFED😁😁😁

Brexit,old white guys drinking a lot.

CLUBS AND INSTITUTIONS IN LONDON AND ENGLAND ARE SEEN AS THUS. PRIVATE ALL MENS CLUBS OLD WHITE WEALTHY MALES DRINKING AND SMOKING CIGARS, NO WOMEN ALLOWED. I CANNOT RECALL THE CLUB NAME BUT THERE IS ONE WHERE ALL THE MEN ARE CALLED THE SAME NAME. A RETURN TO THE WEALTHY PALE MALE AND STALE AS MADAM WAS SO DESIRING TO HAVE. WAS THAT THE HOPE OF MANY TO BRING ENGLAND BACK TO THE WAY IT HAS BEEN FOR CENTURIES?

…………… a moment of reckoning ………

WE TRULY ARE IN A GLOBAL MOMENT OF RECKONING. THERE IS SO MUCH PENT UP RAGE AND THE LOCKDOWN JUST FUELLED IT. LOST JOBS, LOST PEOPLE, FEAR, JUST THE PERFECT STORM. THERE WILL AT SOME POINT NEED TO BE SOME DIALOGUE AND DISCUSSION AND A LOT OF LISTENING AND ACTUALLY ALL SIDES HEARING WHAT THE OTHERS ARE SAYING. AT THIS POINT IT SEEMS BURNING DOWN AN INNOCENT RESTAURANT IS THE THING TO DO AFTER A POLICE INVOLVED SHOOTING AND DEATH. MORE LOST JOBS. INNOCENT RESTAURANT OWNER AND WORKERS. THIS MAKES NO SENSE. TAKE YOUR OWN STUFF INTO THE STREET AND BURN IT IF THAT IS YOUR THING.

a virtual Wimbledon?? ………… Catherine to the rescue

OUR CATHERINE, THE DUCHESS OF CAMBRIDGE IS THE ROYAL PATRON OF WIMBLEDON. SHE ALSO LOVES PLAYING THE GAME AND IS VERY GOOD AT IT. IS SHE COMING UP WITH SOME IDEA IN STEAD OF THIS YEARS MISSED WIMBLEDON. VIRTUAL MATCHES?? EVEN JUST A FEW MATCHES FOR FUN, OBVNOT FOR THE TITLE. PEOPLE COUKD WATCH FROM HOME OR ON THEIR DEVICES. I THINK THIS WOULD BE MARVELLOUS. YET AGAIN, CATHERINE, THE WOMAN WHO CAN DO IT ALL, WHILE IN HEELS, TO THE RESCUE!!!

…… “ Ahhh , a relaxing night old thing “ …………… “Sydney’s provided a new box set” …… “Boardwalk Empire” ………“ bit violent old thing” ……… “ Epic Philip!!”…… “ones usual Sydney “………… “great!! No bloody tic toc.

OH I AM ECSTATIC, SYDNEY YOU FOUND MY BOARDWALK EMPIRE DVDS YAY!!!THEY FINALLY ARRIVED!!! THE MUSIC, SETS, CLOTHES AND THE STORIES AWESOME. SO BACK IN THE SITTING ROOM OF WINDSOR CASTLE. NO NEED FOR A BIG FIRE, ITS NICE AND COZY. HAVE WE GOT A FEW CORGIS TONIGHT SNUGGLING ROUND?? HIMSELF LOOKING FORWARD TO A RELAXING NIGHT BINGE WATCHING WITH HIS 🥬 CABBAGE🥰🥰🥰🥰, HMTQ. AT LAST SYDNEY HAS FOUND AND PUT IN BOARDWALK EMPIRE. HEY SIR, NO MORE VIOLENT THAN THE SOPRANOS AND MUCH MORE DELIGHTFUL TO GET LOST IN THE ERA. SOUNDS LIKE HMTQ IS QUITE ENJOYING IT, I KNEW YOU WOULD MA’AM, THE 1920’S , MUSIC, ALL ORIGINAL FROM THE TIME, REAL LIFE CHARACTERS, SO SO WELL DONE. SYDNEY TAKING BEVVIE ORDERS AND THERE WILL BE NO CHANGE, GIN AND DUBONNET AND BODDINGTONS!! HIMSELF QUITE CHUFFED FOR A NIGHT WITHOUT TIK TOC🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂😂😂😂MM ANON, YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW IT TOUCHES ME THAT YOU WROTE IN BOARDWALK EMPIRE.

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦🇬🇧🇦🇺🇳🇿

——————-

49. June 17

MM ANON …… “she Ascot nothing on me” ………… para-thanks William ……… PC , LOST weight??…………Oxford,Oxford ……… STIR-oid ………U-Turn dinner …………… falling tragedy ………… the Paris peasants are revolting ……… ……… “ we can still dress-up cabbage 🥬 “ ………… “Anne, my yellow ensemble”……… “Sydney ‘ a photo”………… “that’s a keeper, old thing” ……… “ here we go , tic-toc, the three of them” ………… “O, and Catherine!!” ………… “ ehhhh, And William “ ………… “ make it a double Sydney “…… “ how entertaining Philip “

*Entertainment purposes….

I honestly thought I had posted this already……I have to find a better system….I will start dating it….

June 16 Tuesday

✝️✝️🌈🌈🌈💟💟THANK YOU DEAR MM ANON💟 💟 🌈🌈🌈✝️✝️

SORRY I AM A DAY LATE KIDS I HAVE PICKED UP A COLD AND IT HAS TAKEND ME DOWN.

JUNE 17/2020

RIDDLE#49

“she Ascot nothing on me” …………

DESPITE ASCOT BEING VIRTUAL, PEOPLE STILL DRESSED UP AT HOME. I AM CERTAIN HMTQ WAS THE FINEST OF THEM ALL, NO DOUBT!! NO MADAM TO TURN HER BACK ON HMTQ!

para-thanks William ………

PC , LOST weight??…………

Oxford,Oxford ………

STIR-oid ………

U-Turn dinner ……………

falling tragedy …………

the Paris peasants are revolting ……… ……

THERE HAVE BEEN RIOTOUS VIOLENT PROTESTS IN PARIS LAST WEEK AND SOUNDS LIKE THIS AS WELL.ANY EXCUSE FOR A PARTY SOME SAY.

… “ we can still dress-up cabbage 🥬 “ ………… “Anne, my yellow ensemble”……… “Sydney ‘ a photo”………… “that’s a keeper, old thing” ……… “ here we go , tic-toc, the three of them” ………… “O, and Catherine!!” ………… “ ehhhh, And William “ ………… “ make it a double Sydney “…… “ how entertaining Philip “

DAY BACK AT WINDSOR CASTLE. DESPITE ASCOT BEING VIRTUAL, THE DM YESTERDAY WAS FULL OF PEOPLE DRESSED UP AT HOME. HIMSELF USING HIS PET NAME, ONE OF THEM, FOR HMTQ, ASSURING HER THEY CAN STILL GET DRESSED TO THE NINES TO WATCH HER HORSES RACE. SHE HAS THREE OF THEM, I WAS GOING TO REMEMBER BUT ALAS I HAVE NOT. SOUNDS LIKE HMTQ HAS RANG ANNE AND WANTS TO WEAR YELLOW!! NICE BRIGHT SUNNY CHOICE. SYDNEY PLAYING CATHERINE BEING THE OFFICIAL PHOTOGRAPHER AND THE PHOTO TIRNS OUT WELL, ITS A KEEPER MEANS EXACTLY THAT. GETTING ALL WOUND UP AS THE FIRST OF HER THREE HORSES RACE. I WONDER IF CATHERINE AND WILLIAM ARE TIK TOK OR VIRTUALLY WATCHING AS WELL ALL DRESSED UP? SURE SOUNDS LIKE A SKPYE OR SOME SORT OF HELLO. DOUBLE BE VIES AND A GREAT TIME WAS HAD BY ALL

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦🇬🇧🇦🇺🇳🇿

—————-

50. June 17

MM ANON … Goal no goal, offside!! …………red zone……… rear ended,whoops!! ………… saliva sample ………… another rally?? …………… a £ 900,000 paint job. ………… madam NYC incognito …………ZOOM to William ……… mutant outbreak confirmed ……………… NDA bombshell. …………joining the UN? …………… Chile lockdown ………”how many episodes old thing “ ………… “ yes , that Nucky chappie is a tad violent” ………… “ she’s meeting at Wimbledon “……………… “ Nanny’s taking them to the zoo”

*Entertainment purposes

June 17/20

✝️✝️🌈🌈🌈💟💟THANK YOU MM ANON💟💟🌈🌈🌈✝️✝️

JUNE 17/2020. RIDDLE#50

KIDS I WILL TRY MY BEST BUT OBHAVE A HEAD COLD STUFFED UP FEEL LOUSY SECOND DAY HERE SOOOOOTRYING MY BESTEST FOR YOU ALL💟💟💟💟💟💟💟

MM ANON

… Goal no goal, offside!! …………

ASTON VILLA WINS OVER SHEFFIELD UTD IN THE FIRST PREMIER LEAGUE MATCH TODAY . THERE WAS A TECHNICAL MALFUNCTION OF SOME SORT AND A GOAL WAS DENIED. LOTS OF ANGRY FANS FOR SURE. AM I WRONG OR ISN’T ASTON VILLA GEORGE’S FAVOURITE TEAM? I AM PRETTY SURE IT IS WILLIAMS FAVOURITE.

red zone………

I DO NOT BELIEVE THE U.K. IS IN THE RED ZONE OF COVID. THERE ARE CERTAINLY PARTS OF AMERICA AND THE WORLD SPIKING. MM ANON, THESE DAYS I FIND IT EXTREMELY CHALLENGING TO KNOW IF I SHOULD GO U.K., AMERICA OR ANYWHERE ELSE WITH YOUR CLUES. . NOT COMPLAINING AT ALL. I LOVE THE CHALLENGE AND LADYKINRANNOCH ALWAYS GETS EVERY POINT SO I CAN COUNT ON HER WHEN I DO NOT GET IT. AT LEAST THE READERS GET INFORMATION.

rear ended,whoops!! …………

A FEMALE WAITRESS IN LONDON HAS HAD TO ENDURE HAVING HER BOTTOM SLAPPED BY THE CHEF. HAVING NO RECOURSE, SHE, TOGETHER WITH FRIENDS HIT THE CHEF WHERE IT HURTS, REPUTATION AND MONEY. THEY HAVE GONE ONLINE AND GIVEN HIM BAD REVIEWS!! HE FINALLY SETTLED, SHE GOT £90,000!!! SETTLEMENT!!

saliva sample …………

THE OTHER DAY, THERE WERE FRIENDS PICNICKING IN THE PARK. ONE OF THE THUGS, AS THE GROUP WALKED ACROSS THE GRASS PAST THEM HAULED OFF AND HUCKED A NOOGIE AT HER FACE. DISGUSTING AND CANNOT BLAME RACE AS BOTH WERE CAUCASIAN. ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTING “SALIVA SAMPLE”. DM HAS THE VIDEO!

another rally?? ……………

AS I MENTIONED THE OTHER DAY, POTUS WAS TO HAVE A RALLY IN TULSA ON FRIDAY. HE HAS ANNOUNCED, OUT OF RESPECT, HE WILL HOLD IT THE FOLLOWING NIGHT TO RESPECT THE MEMORIES OF JUNE 10 AND THOSE AFFECTED BY IT. THE ELECTION IS IN NOVEMBER HE HAS TO DO HIS RALLIES. KIDS THIS ARENA HOLDS 18,000 SEATS. THERE WERE OVER ONE MILLION TICKET REQUESTS, OVER ONE MILLION!!! THAT SHOULD TELL YOU A LOT ABOUT HOW WELCOMED HE IS.

I REFUSE TO USE THE WORD RALLY FOR PROTESTS, MARCHES OR RIOTS. ARE THERE MORE OF THESE TO COME?? OF COURSE THERE ARE. THE DA IN ATLANTA JUST HELD A LONG PRESS CONFERENCE, I WATCHED IT, DETAILED INFORMATION. THE OFFICER WHO KILLED MR. BROOKS HAS BEEN CHARGED WITH EVERYTHING UNDER THE SUN AND HIS PARTNER HAS TURNED STATES EVIDENCE. APPARENTLY THE FIRST TIME THAT HAS HAPPENED IN FOURTY CASES IN THAT STATE. THEY DESCRIBED BEHAVIOUR THAT I HAD NO HEARD ON THE NEWS. I AM NOT REPEATING IT HERE SUSS IT OUT ON YOUR OWN, ITS EXTREMELY DISTURBING BEHAVIOUR ON THE PART OF BOTH BUT ESPECIALLY THE SHOOTING OFFICER.

a £ 900,000 paint job. …………

BANKSY DID A PAINTING AFTER THE GEORGE FLOYD MURDER.

POWERFUL PIECE. HOWEVER, I AM WONDERING IF THIS COST IS THE COST OF CLEANING UP THE DAMAGE OF THE MARCHES AND THE BOARDING UP AND SECURING UP OF THE MANY STATUES WILL EQUAL £9,000,000.

madam NYC incognito …………

HAS MADAM BEEN SPOTTED OR SEEN IN NYC?? I HAVE NOT SEEN THAT BUT WHO KNOWS SHE HIRED HERSELF AN ACTRESS BEFORE.

ZOOM to William ………

SOMEWHERE SOMEONE UNKNOW SOURCE HAS TWEETED OR TWIITTED OR WHATEVER SOCIAL MEDIA PLATFORM THAT HARRY HAS BEEN ZOOMING WILLIAM. NO CONFIRMATION OF COURSE, SO OBVIOUSLY NOT A RELIABLE SOURCE. HOWEVER, IN THIS CASE I 109% BELIEVE IT!! ZOOM, MOBILE, FACETIME ETC ETC ETC.

mutant outbreak confirmed ………………

THERE HAS BEEN A BREAKOUT OF COVID-19? IN BEIJING OR HAS THERE HMMMMM??? IT APPEARS THE VIRUS HAS YET AGAIN MUTATED, ACCORDING TO CHINESE OFFICIALS.AND THEY ARE BLAMING THIS OUTBREAK ON EUROPEAN SALMON!!!

NDA bombshell. …………

PRESIDENT TRUMPS NIECE, MARY, HAS WRITTEN A TELL ALL BOOK. APPARENTLY SHE SIGNED A NDA BACK IN 2001!! NOT TO TALK ABOUT HER RELATIONSHIP WITH HER UNCLE DONALD. I GUESS MAYBE SHE FORGIT ABOUT THAT OR THE PUBLISHERS DIDN’T KNOW?

“Mary Trump will release ‘Too Much and Never Enough: How My Family Created the World’s Most Dangerous Man,’ on July 28, according to her publisher” DAILY MAIL

WELL HE IS TAKING LEGAL ACTION TO PREVENT THE BOOKS RELEASE SCHEDULED FOR JULY 28/2020.

joining the UN? ……………

IS THIS CHAZ OR CHOP WANTING A SEAT AT THE TABLE WITH THE ADULTS NOW?

Chile lockdown ………”

COVID-19 CASES AND DEATHS HAVE SPIKED IN CHILE AND ITS OVER 200,000 CASES NOW. THEY HAVE STERNLY EXPANDED THE LOCKDOWN AS OF A FEW HOURS AGO.

“how many episodes old thing “ ………… “ yes , that Nucky chappie is a tad violent” ………… “ she’s meeting at Wimbledon “……………… “ Nanny’s taking them to the zoo”

MEANWHILE BACK AT WINDSOR CASTLE, HMTQ AND HIMSELF ARE CONTINUING BINGE WATCHING BOARDWALK EMPIRE. NUCKY THOMPSON WAS THE MAIN CROOKED POLITICIAN MOBSTER AT THAT TIME IN THAT AREA AND THE ENTIRE SERIES REVOLVES AROUND HIM, HIS LIFE AND THE GOINGS ON THEREIN. YES LIFE WAS EXTREMELY VIOLENT HOWEVER WATCH THE NEWS AT LEAST THEN, THE MOBSTERS HAD SCRUPLES NOTHING LIKE TODAYS INDISCRIMINATE VIOLENCE.

SOUNDS LIKE CATHERINE IS MEETING AT WIMBLEDON TO CONTINUE ARRANGING SOME SORT OF VIRTUAL TENNIS/WIMBLEDON. MEANWHILE 🎼THEY’RE GOING TO THE ZOO ZOO ZOO 🎼 😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣NANNY TAKING THE TRIO OF CAMBRIDGES TO THE ZOO.

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦🇬🇧🇦🇺🇳🇿

———————

51. June 18

MM ANON ……… “NEVER………… “ ………” mon dieu” …… 🎼some sunny day 🎼……… “ good to meet again Mr President “………air corridor ……… “ to be honest,he was an obnoxious old bastard” ……… world beating 🍒……… non app- licable …… “ Bolt-hole. ………… self interest ……… BOE- more money!! …………… pepper sprayed……… “ O Philip, it’s the last one “……… “Always Downton Abbey old thing”

*Entertainment purposes

Thursday June 18

JUNE 18/2020

✝️✝️🌈🌈🌈💟💟THANK YOU DEAR MM ANON💟💟🌈🌈✝️✝️

RIDDLE#51

ANOTHER RIDDLE WITH LOTS!!! OF CLUES THAT COULD GO ANY DIRECTION. TODAY I AM GOING TO STICK WITH THE U.K.

I DO WANT TO ADD, FROM YESTERDAY, THE BOOK BY JOHN VOLTON I THINK IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN THE ONE I REFERENCED. THE FORMER NSA HAS WRITTEN A TELL ALL WITHOUT COMPLETING THE CIA AND DOJ CLEARANCE PROCESS. THEREFORE CLASSIFIED INFORMATION IS IN THE BOOK TO BE RELEASED TUESDAY. LATE LAST NIGHT THE DOJ FILED AN INJUNCTION. I HAVE NOT SEEN THE NEWS TODAY. HE IS IN A WORLD OF TROUBLE BECAUSE HE HAS LEAKED THE BOOK ALONG WITH ALL THAT CLASSIFIED INFORMATION.

OKAY, ON TO TODAYS RIDDLE.

“NEVER………… “

NEVER UPPERCASE, I AM THE ONLY ONE THAT USES UPPERCASE NORMALLY SO THIS IS OF EXTREME IMPORTANCE. IT IS THE FIRST CLUE, NEVER? IS THIS HMTQ, DUE TO COVID WILL NO LONGER BE ABLE TO GREET FOREIGN LEADERS AND CHARLES WILL HAVE TO ASSUME HER ROLE THERE? I HEAR WINSTON CHURCHILL UTTERING HIS FAMOUS LINE, “WE WILL NEVER SURRENDER” I THINK THIS IS THE MEANING. YES THINGS WILL CHANGE AS TIMES ALWAYS DO. BUT NEVER SURRENDER TO MOBS, ANTIFA FASCISTS, AND THE LIKE. THE GENERAL PUBLIC FEELS THIS WAY.

“ mon dieu” ……

EN FRANCAIS , en français, TRANSLATES TO MY GOD. WHO IS EITHER SAYING THIS IN SHOCK OR REACHING OUT TO GOD. I BELIEVE THIS IS REFERRING TO THE WWII ANNIVERSARY OF THE FORMATION OF THE FRENCH RESISTANCE TO THE NAZIS. READ THIS LITTLE LINK…..

“LONDON — French President Emmanuel Macron marked Gen. Charles De Gaulle’s famed World War II appeal to resist the Nazis on Thursday in a special ceremony intended to invoke the deep friendship between the longtime allies.

Macron traveled to London to mark the day that De Gaulle delivered his defiant broadcast on the BBC 80 years ago, urging his nation to fight on despite the fall of France.

“Your nation spearheaded the liberation of the world. It erected, against Nazi barbarism, the most beautiful of the ramparts: that of unity and fraternity,” Macron told Prince Charles. “The United Kingdom gave Free France its first weapon: the microphone of the BBC.” FROM WWW.SPOKESMAN.COM

🎼some sunny day 🎼………

WE JUST ALL SANG THIS A FEW WEEKS AGO COMMEMORATING THE WAR ANNIVERSARY. DAME VERA LYNN SANG THIS SONG THAT BECAME A NATIONAL THEME SONG THAT BUOYED A NATION AT WAR. SAD NEWS TODAY THAT SHE HAS PASSED AWAY TODAY. ANOTHER LEGACY, I HOPE SHE IS REMEMBERED. RIP DAME VERA✝️✝️✝️😞😞😞

“ good to meet again Mr President “………

FRENCH PRESIDENT MACRON HAD AN OFFICIAL VISIT TO LONDON. AS HMTQ IS STILL AT WINDSOR, PRINCE CHARLES DID THE MEETINGS IN HER STEAD AT CLARENCE HOUSE. IT IS LIKELY THAT HMTQ MAY NOT BE DOING ANYMORE OF THESE DUE THE AGE AND RISK. IT MUST BE DRIVING HER FRUSTRATION LEVEL. BYT MAKE NO MISTAKE SHE IS STILL RULING.

air corridor ………

THE TERM AIR CORRIDOR OR TRAVEL BRIDGES ARE BEING USED TO DESCRIBE PLACES THAT ARE SAFER TO TRAVEL TO WITHOUT QUARANTINE IN ORDER TO HAVE PEOPLE TAKE SOME VACATIONS A BREAK FROM LIFE ESPECIALLY NEEDED NOW, THERE HAS BEEN TALK OF HUMAN BUBBLES WHICH STARTED LAST WEEKEND IN THE U.K. THERE ARE COUNTRIES WITH LOWERS CASES IF INFECTION OF COVID-19 LIKE PORTUGAL. THERE IS TO BE A LIST OF COUNTRIES RELEASED.

“ to be honest,he was an obnoxious old bastard” ……… REFERRING HE WAS, SO THIS MAKES ME THINK IN THE PAST TENSE. SO IT IS SOMEONE WHO LIKELY PP KNOWS OR HAS DIED.

I THINK IF IT WAS DEATH IT WOULD BE WORDED DIFFERENTLY. I FIND A FORMER CONSERVATIVE LEADER, LORD HAGUE BEING VERY CRITICAL OF BORIS JOHNSON AND SIDING WITH FORMER LABOUR LEADER TONY BLAIR, HIS IDEAS OF MASS TESTING FOR COVID, BETRAYING THE CONSERVATIVES PLAN. HE HAS OTHER IDEAS REGARDING THE SAGGING ECONOMY. BUT IT SEEMS HE HAS ABANDONED THE PARTY HE ONCE LED. I COULD BE WRONG. I FOUND SEVERAL DEATHS, ONE IN APRIL OF COVID, A LORD BATH AND AN FORMER CONSERVATIVE MP JOHN MAPLES, 69. NEITHER FITS.

world beating 🍒……… non app- licable ……

THE NHS TRACK AND TRACE APP FOR COVID-19 BECAUSE WHICH WAS PROMISED IN MAY, TO BE FANTASTIC AND ALL THINGS AMAZING, AND TO HAVE BEEN READY BY NOW. BUT IT IS STILL FRAUGHT WITH PROBLEMS NOW IT IS BEING BLAMED ON APPLE, BECAUSE THE APP DOES NOT WORK ON IPHONES!!! THE TITLE OF THE ARTICLE HAS CHERRY SO I THINK MM ANON MIGHT HAVE LITERALLY BEEN CHEEKY. SO I SEE NON APP-LICABLE MEANING THE APP STILL NOT WORKING AS PROMISED OR FULLY IN USE.

https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-8435323/Delayed-NHS-tracking-app-SCRAPPED-completely-ministers-blaming-Apple.html

“ Bolt-hole. …………

BOLT HOLE IS A BRITISH TERM USED FOR A SMALL PLACE TO JUST GET AWAY TO IN A RUSH HENCE THE TERM BOLT AND HOLE. HOWEVER IN TODAYS WORLD MOST BOLT HOKES ARE MASSIVE COUNTRY HOMES FOR THE WEALTHY. THE SUSSEXES ALLEGEDLY HAD A FARM IN THE COTSWOLDS NEAR HER BESTIE VICTORIA BECKHAM. THEY WERE SAID TO BE VERY CLOSE AND SPEND LOADS OF TIME TOGETHER. ANOTHER OR LIE. SO WHOSE BOLT HOLE IS BEING REFERENCED HERE? THE BECKHAMS HAVE BEEN IN A LEGAL ROW WITH THEIR NEIGHBOURS REGARDING THEIR LONDON MANSION TODAY THEY LOST THE COURT DECISION.

I DO THINK HARRY HAS A BOLT HOLE WHERE HE HAS BEEN SPENDING A LIT IF TIME. WHERE IT MSY BE I WILL, NOT SPECULATE.

self interest ………

THIS CAN BE SEEN AS POSITIVE OR EGOIST. THE BLM CAN BE SEEN AS POC ADVOCATING FOR JUSTICE AND THEIR SELF INTEREST , THINGS THAT ARE VITAL TO THEM, THEIR ISSUES AND SURVIVAL. THE EXTREME ARE PEOPLE LIKE MADAM OR JM, WHO LIVE AND BREATHE ONLY SELF, WHATS IN IT FOR ME? MADAM IS NOW IRRELEVANT BUT STILL BREATHING PR. JUSTICE IS CLOSE. JM HAS BEEN SHUT DOWN ALL BY HER OWN EGO AND BEHAVIOURAL CHOICES.

BOE- more money!! ……………

THE WORLD, DUE TO LOCKDOWN IS RACING RAPIDLY TOWARDS RECESSION. AMERICA HAS BEEN STRONGLY REOPENING BUSINESSES AND THE ECONOMY AND JOBS NUMBERS ARE RISING RAPIDLY. COVID IS A KNOWN RISK. BOE, THE BANK OF ENGLAND, TODAY ANNOUNCED THEY HAVE “PUMPED” ANOTHER £100,000,000 YES BILLION POUNDS INTO THE ECONOMY, YIKES!! CAN YOU PRINT SOME FOR ME TOO?? 😁😁😁

pepper sprayed………

WELL I CANNOT FATHOM ANYONE SPECIFIC, MM ANON YOU ARE TOUGH!!! ARE YOU GETTING HELP WITH THE RIDDLES? MAYBE NANNY ANON AND QUOTE ANON ARE PITCHING IN AND INCREASING THE DIFFICULTY OR MAYBE IT IS JUST MY BRAIN 🧠. PEPPER SPRAY IS NOT LEGAL HERE, MANY CARRY BEAR SPRAY. IT , ALONG WITH TEAR GAS, RUBBER BULLETS ETC ARE CONSIDERED NON-LETHAL METHODS LAW ENFORCEMENT CAN IMPLEMENT IN DEALING WITH ROWDY CROWS. THIS HAS BEEN USED EXTENSIVELY DURING THE LAST FEW WEEKS. BUT MM ANON IS REFERRING, I BELIEVE TO ONE SPECIFIC INCIDENT OR PERSON, WHO THAT IS, I CANNOT FIND.

“ O Philip, it’s the last one “……… “Always Downton Abbey old thing”

ALAS A SHORT ONE BUT A GOOD ONE. THEY HAVE FINISHED MY BOARDWALK EMPIRE, YOUR MAJESTY, I DO HOPE YOU ENJOYED THE AUTHENTIC MUSIC AND COSTUMES. HIMSELF SUGGESTS THE EVER ALWAYS WATCHABLE DOWNTON ABBEY. I HAVE THE DVD’S BUT I MUST SAY I WAS VERY DISAPPOINTED IN THE FILM, ESPECIALLY THE END WHERE THERE, TO ME, SADLY WAS A VERY UNNECESSARY PLOT TWIST. REALISTIC MAYBE BUT EMOTIONALLY UNNECESSARY.

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦🇬🇧🇦🇺🇳🇿

—————-

[is-this-a-skam-account]

Shelter Chapter 4 (part 2) by Shawnie1718 ao3

Eliott took one hit and puffed out the smoke. Lucas didn’t even try to hide the fact that he watched it go up into the air. When their eyes met again Eliott offered him the cigarette.

Lucas took it graciously. He wasn’t any stranger to smoking, though he liked smoking weed more than just cigarettes. Lucas breathed in slowly, and pulled the cigarette away gently, letting the smoke settle in his mouth for just a second before breathing out. “So you smoke,” Eliott said with a dry laugh.

Lucas shrugged, “whenever it’s offered. Normally I won’t seek out a cigarette.”

Eliott nodded slowly, placing it between his lips once more. When he pulled it away he blew out a smoke ring that slowly rose into the air. Lucas felt his mouth go dry. That was the hottest thing he thinks he has ever seen. “So your parents aren’t together, huh?”

Lucas swallowed and looked down at the ground. Great, why don’t we talk about this again. “Yeah, my dad sort of...left my mom and I for some other Omega too young for him. My mom sort of went downhill from there.”

Lucas could see Eliott breathe smoke out his nose from his peripheral before saying, “fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that it was...like that. We don’t have to talk about it.”

Lucas shakes his head, eyes flitting up for a second to catch Eliott’s before looking immediately back down at the concrete. “It’s fine. My dad and I have some issues with one another but honestly at this point I don’t care about him. My mom and I had some rough patches when I was in high school, cause I was stupid and hated everyone,” Lucas paused. “Now I just miss her.”

Eliott cringed, “is she not...with us anymore?”

Lucas looked up in surprised, “oh, fuck, that’s not what I meant! I just meant that she, well she has a mental illness and she has to be kept in a hospital for it. I just don’t get to see her all the time and it hurts.” Lucas paused, scoffing at himself, “sorry, I don’t know why I’m saying all this.”

“No, no, I appreciate it, Lucas,” holy crap his name sounds so good in Eliott’s mouth. “I actually help run different organizations regarding mental illnesses. Well, I don’t necessarily run them. I more advocate for them. Like a...poster boy of some sort.” He takes another hit of the cigarette. It’s at the end of its life.

“That’s awesome! How’d you get involved in the topic of mental illnesses?”

“Well I’m bipolar,” Eliott said. He said it so nonchalantly that Lucas isn’t sure if he heard him right or not. The shock must register on Lucas’s face because suddenly Eliott paused, “oh I thought you knew. I’m pretty open about it on social media, because I hope to bring attention to the topic.”

Lucas is still trying to find the right words when Eliott’s says, “if it’s a problem, then I should probably just go.”

Lucas sees Eliott ground his cigarette into the ground, and before he could take a step backward Lucas grabbed onto his wrist, “no! No of course it’s not an issue, Eliott! Sorry, I was just sort of shocked. I’m not used to talking about these topics so openly. The only friend of mine who really knows about my moms situation is Yann. And I suppose Manon and Mika too, but only the basics.”

Eliott smiled at that, and Lucas could have sworn he saw relief flood over his face. “We have talked about this a lot, huh?”

Lucas shrugged.

“What do you say we go do something else? Maybe…go to the top of the Eiffel Tower.”

Lucas laughed, it was a good hearty laugh that made Eliott smile. “Wow, are you sure you’re French? You seem more like a tourist.”

“What? Is appreciating my country a crime?”

“No, no, not at all. Say, is this your first time ever witnessing something as grand as the Eiffel Tower, monsieur?” Lucas asked incredulously, poking fun at the Alpha.

“Haha very funny. Cmon, what French person hasn’t been to the Eiffel Tower and at least appreciated its beauty on some level?”

Lucas paused as they start walking back. The sun was setting in front of them, and it honestly looked like a view from a postcard. “I’ve never been to the Eiffel Tower.”

“What?! Are you even French?!”

Lucas gaped at him. “Am I even French?! I’m not the one acting like they want to marry the damn thing!”

Eliott laughed. There was some raspiness to his soft voice that made something inside Lucas want to intertwine their hands and never let go. “Well, I guess we're both just weird French people then, huh?”

Lucas smiled, “just a little weird.”

As they waited in line to get in the elevator up to the top of the Tower, Eliott demanded taking some pictures of the sunset from out the window.

“Just get in one!” Eliott pleases.

Lucas rolled his eyes, “never gonna happen. Especially if I know you are going to post about it on Instagram.”

Eliott smirked and took a step closer, hand bringing his camera to his side. “What’s so bad about the fact that I want to show off the awesome day I had with such a-“ he was interrupted by the workers ushering people into the elevator.

Pretty soon they were crammed into a steel death trap which was inching its way up this massive structure. The way in which they boarded made it so that Eliott stood behind Lucas. Since it was so crowded they were basically crushed together, and Lucas was so not prepared. He also wasn’t ready for the fact that it made their height difference so visible. Lucas feel Eliott’s breath against his neck. The fact that every time Eliott breathed out, a puff of air tickled his scent gland and briefly made his knees go weak was making him crazy. Lucas was pretty sure he was going to turn into putty on the floor if he weren’t careful. And Lucas wasn’t sure if Eliott was doing it on purpose, but everytime the elevator lurched he could feel the taller boy press just a tiny bit closer. Not to mention the fact that Eliott’s scent was driving him practically up the wall. The Alpha was filling all his senses and Lucas just needed out of here or else he wasn’t sure what would happen.

Lucas practically dashed out of the elevator into the open area. Allowing his sense of smell to be filled with something other than Eliott. Not that Eliott smelled bad. Actually, it was the opposite. It was because Eliott smelled so damn good that it made Lucas want to jump his bones right then and there.

“You okay?” Eliott asked and placed a tentative hand on Lucas’s shoulder.

Lucas nodded. He didn’t need to look in a mirror to know that his cheeks were flushed a bright crimson. Hopefully Eliott would just think he’s sick or something…

“Whoa!” Eliott exclaimed and ran to the nearest window, peering down. “This sight never gets old.” He practically whispered into the glass as Lucas got closer.

Lucas followed Eliott’s eyes, pushing his fear of heights to the side for just a few moments. “Oh! There’s my motorcycle! You can see it if you really squint…” Lucas commented and pointed to where he had parked his baby earlier.

“You ride a motorcycle?”

Lucas nodded, “just for a few years.”

“That’s so cool! I wish I could ride one.” Eliott said and leaned against the railing, facing Lucas.

“Well maybe I can give you a ride back to your apartment later,” Lucas offered.

“Oh you are definitely giving me a ride later,” Lucas knew that Eliott didn’t mean it the way it came across. But Lucas couldn’t stop his mind from filling with some obscene images involving a certain Omega and Alpha. In bed. Lucas bit his bottom lip to suppress a whimper from making its way out.

They stood in front of the window for what felt like hours. They were making small banter between them, though in Lucas’s opinion they didn’t even really need to talk. It could have been the most deadly silence anyone had ever come across, and it still would have been fine. Because they are fine. They’re Eliott and Lucas.

“What do you say we head out?” Eliott finally offered and nodded his head towards the exit. Lucas agreed and followed after him.

Lucas dreaded the entire walk from the Eiffel Tower to where he had parked his motorbike. Because it meant this day, this day that actually made Lucas feel like himself after months of feeling out of place, was coming to an end. They walked exceptionally close. Fireworks were going off inside Lucas every time he felt their knuckles brush or their shoulders touch. He practically gnawed a gash into his bottom lip with how he had been anxiously chewing at it.

“This is it here,” Lucas gestured towards his baby, which practically flowed in the dark.

Eliott whistled and ran a hand over the seat. “I don’t know anything about motorcycles, but this baby is sweet.” Lucas laughed. “Why don’t you get on and show me how it’s done?” Eliott practically challenged, eyebrows bouncing up.

Lucas rolled his eyes and mounted the motorcycle, hands curled around the handlebars. He let his eyes shut at the feeling. Yeah, there was nothing better than this.

Suddenly he heard a camera shutter go off and Lucas’s eyes shot open. There Eliott stood, camera in hand, looking like a deer caught in headlights. Lucas narrowed his eyes.

“Did you just take a photo of me?”

“No.”

“Eliott.”

“No!”

“Fine, show me your photos.”

Eliott frowned playfully. “Fine, okay! I did. But I couldn’t help it! You look so hot.”

Lucas felt his breath catch at the last sentence. He swallowed and urged himself to just brush it off. “Whatever, just get on?” He said and offered Eliott a helmet.

Eliott smirked, acting as if he’d won. He happily took the helmet and strapped it around his head safely. A few tufts of messy hair poked out from the front and sides, and made Lucas smile.

Lucas revved the engine a couple times before smiling over his shoulder. “You might want to hang on.” Lucas said over the humming of the motorcycle.

Eliott simply beamed at Lucas as his hands slid around the younger boys waist. Lucas nearly jumped when he felt Eliott bring himself flush to Lucas’s back and hands tighten. Eliott then placed his head on Lucas’s shoulder, peering out at the road. Without another warning Lucas took off. He heard Eliott let out a surprised “whoa!” from behind him, which made Lucas smile. Eliott was practically hollering with laughter and excitement as Lucas made sharp turns and swerved between cars. Lucas tried to take them a little out of the way of the city, and into an area where he knows there aren’t as many traffic lights or pedestrians out at night.

As the ride continued and the busy streets turned into more calm, less populated areas Eliott seemed to relax. He didn’t try to say anything to Lucas, which he appreciated. Not that he had to just concentrate on the road. Rather, Lucas was just happy to bask in the feeling of wind rushing past him and the hum of the bike. He especially couldn’t get enough of the shifting pressure of Eliott on his back. Or of Eliott’s gentle touch on his stomach. Or of how close Eliott was to his scent gland. Close enough that his nose accidentally brushed it a couple times.

Lucas had to turn around at some point though, they couldn’t just keep riding forever. Eliott had to get back to his apartment and Lucas also had to go to bed. Though, Lucas is sure neither of them would have complained if they just stayed like this until time ended.

Eliott was kind enough to direct Lucas to his apartment, since Lucas had literally no idea where he was going. When he pulled up to an old apartment building, Lucas wasn’t sure if Eliott had directed him to the right place. Did a supermodel really live here?

As soon as Eliott hopped off, Lucas immediately regretted ever taking him back to his apartment. Lucas just wanted to always have the soft pressure of Eliott on his back, and the playful twitches in Eliott’s hands pressed against his stomach. He wanted Eliott to just sweep him off his feet and carry him to their future, wherever that may be.

“Thanks for today,” Eliott said and pulled the helmet off his head, tucking it under his elbow.

Lucas smiled, he felt like he was going to cry. He didn’t want this to end, not yet. “Of course. Thank you, Eliott.”

Eliott looked like he was frozen in place. Like he was struggling to find the willpower to even move his feet. Lucas saw Eliott’s hand twitch upwards a couple times before falling limp again at his side. “Right. Well, next time then.” Eliott smiled and turned to walk away.

As Eliott was about halfway to his door Lucas called after him, “Eliott! My helmet!”

Eliott looked down at his own limbs, almost shocked that he still had it himself. He paused a second before sending a smirk over his shoulder, “you’ll get it back next time. It’ll give you a reason to come visit me.”

@lucallemant: day out with my baby.

@srodulv: come get your helmet. im missing you already