#did he see the prague possibility?

[soapfcrce]

❛  i'm trapped between two impossible choices, and neither one feels right.  ❜ || @boosterrs

He really liked to think that by now he would’ve gotten used to Booster’s vague comments and the ways he seemed to catch himself when talking too much. Apparently not.

“Christ, yer beginning t’ sound like a broken record…” A small sigh, Soap pressing a hand to his forehead—or trying to, anyways. It was currently being occupied with holding the guy to his side on the couch while Soap was busy with finishing a small sketch. Very important to get the shading on the dog just right… “Y’ know, starting ‘n stopping every single thought you get ‘s nae very healthy t’ do around curious individuals.”

Namely himself, but that part probably went without saying. One last addendum to the little skull mask on the dog, and he eventually reached over to tap Booster on the nose with the pencil end. “Assuming this is one of those things y’ don’t want me knowing about: just do the one that’s not gonna get ye in trouble. Happen to like having you around here.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Lonely Souls Club 3

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as stalking, loneliness, noncon, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Two lost souls cross, but not all those are lost, want to be found.

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Note: he back.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Bucky

Bucky sits on the bench, head hanging as his knees splay wide, the thick soles of his boots planted on the metal floor. The jet whirs loudly as it cuts through the air.

Sam lets out another unceremonious belch and covers his mouth as he clutches his stomach. He shakes it off as the other man curls his fingers before slowly unfurling them, watching the deliberate movements as if hypnotised.

"How in the hell do you get air sick?" Bucky snorts.

"The wings are... nicer," Sam shrugs, "whatever, I just had some bad street meat."

"I told you not to go to that place."

"Yeah well, some of us like to enjoy ourselves," Sam retorts. "What's gotten into you anyway? You're crustier than usual."

Bucky grumbles but doesn't say anything. He's impatient for this thing to be over. It wasn't enough to land in Luxembourg and Berlin, now they gotta head over to Prague. This wasn't in the briefing.

"Seriously, dude, I know brooding is your whole thing but you need to lighten up. Shit's getting dark," Sam reprimands.

"I'm not brooding," Bucky sits up, rolling his shoulders.

"Sure," the scoff is thick and dismissive. Sam is quiet as he checks the bulky watch on his wrist; it's really more than that, it's his command center. "Wait, what about that girl?"

"What girl?" Bucky's heart throbs as the tendon in his neck pulses.

"The one you were asking advice about. Is that it? You blew it, didn't you?" Sam snickers, "Buck, dames ain't what they used ta be," the old-timey accent has Bucky's fist closing again.

"Shut up," he snarls, "it's not a girl."

A cluck as Sam sits back and smirks, "sure, dude, I totally believe you."

"Stop."

"At least tell me what you did wrong? You know, girls don't like going to the woods with strange men, I said that before."

"Sam."

"James," Sam taunts.

"Don't," a vibranium finger comes within inches of the grinning lips, "I told you... enough." Bucky sits back and retracts his hand, crossing his arms as he grits his teeth, "I didn't blow it."

"Not yet," he partner and only friend chirps, "we'll see."

Bucky sighs and looks away. His stomach pits as he tries to hide his anxiety. He's barely been able to check in with Sam in his face and all this running around. It's been almost a week and it's killing him to be so far away. What if something happens and he's not there? He'd never forgive himself and neither could she.

"Hey," Sam taps him with his knuckles lightly, "I'm teasing. Really, I didn't mean to upset you."

"I'm not upset," Bucky protests, "I'm tired as fuck. Just wanna get this done with."

Reader

The birds nesting above your front window wake you up. The sun slats in brightly between the curtains as you roll over with effort, setting your hips straight with a grunt. You brace your pelvis as you try to stretch out what can't be stretched out. You whimper and bend your legs, one at a time, and raise your arms above your head. You don't want to get up but it's shopping day and you want to beat the rush.

It takes a while for you to get ready for the day. You don't go very far, just to the shop down the block. Their selection is limited but so is your budget.

You get your purse and strap it across your torso. As you near the door, you falter, a pang nearly sending you to your knees. You grasp the door frame and whine, taking the weight off your left leg. You're starting to think you might need to talk to the doctor about that cane. You didn't want to give in that easily but being stubborn isn't making it any better.

You lean on the wall and pull the door inward, unlocking the outer iron grate and pushing through. As you do, something clatters behind you, drawing a gaspy squeak from your lips. You turn to look down at the object as your keys dangle from your grip. You focus on locking both doors first.

You turn and stare down at the thing... you're not quite sure what it is at first. You strain as you bend to pick it up and rest it against the brick. It's some sort of shopping bag.

The handle extends up as it connects to four wheels. You unfold the metal cage lined with patterned fabric and let it stand on its own. You touch the handle, wrapped with some sort of protective rubber. How did it get there?

As you examine the misplaced cart, you see a small ribbon around the handle, dangling just inside the corner of the basket. You tug it up and find a tag on it. There, written by hand, is your name, and a short message.

'To make things a bit easier.'

You blink. Who would do this? You can only think your neighbours might have donated it but you never really talked to them. The mother was always too busy yelling at her children and her husband never said a word. There's nothing on the back, no sign-off, no name...

You wonder if you should accept it. It feels strange. You already live off of a government stipend, you shouldn't be taking handouts from strangers. Still, it's very helpful.

Your hip aches again, and you shudder. You turn the cart and grasp the handle, testing the stability. You don't know if you can make it back with your usual hot, as meagre as it may be. You're talking yourself into this, but it doesn't take much. Whoever left it, you'll have to thank them somehow.

Bucky

He watches her examine the cart. She's skeptical as she unfolds it and hesitates to do more than that. Is it too much? He thought it was such a good idea when he saw it at the store, and it's not very much at all, is it?

He lets out his breath as she twists the cart around and gives it a small nudge. She rolls it cautiously towards the alley and he puts the phone away. He waits across the street as she emerges from the alley and veers in the opposite direction. He doesn't move right away. She'll be on alert now. Little steps, not all at once.

He follows her, staying on the other side of the street, slinking like a cat as he watches her lean on the cart so that she nearly tips it. She rights herself and continues on, taking the next corner. Her gait is slow and uneven but he's patient. It means he gets to spend more time with her.

She hits the button for the automatic door and enters the small grocer. He waits five minutes before he trails in after her. He takes a basket, trying to blend in as he strolls through the bread section. It's desolate as only staff members scatter through the aisles, stocking shelves in their down time.

He grabs a loaf of rye; he'd wanted grilled cheese the other day but he was all out of bread. And cheese for that matter. He held off shopping so that they could go together.

He finds her by the canned soups. There's a four-for-three special. Given the quality, it's not a very good sale. She shouldn't be eating that acidic garbage. One day, he'll make sure, she doesn't have to. He just needs to wait.

He stays at the far end of the aisle as she picks four flavours. He peeks down at the labels; ham and pea, minestrone, Italian wedding, and classic chicken noodle. Noted.

She carries on but he lingers, fighting himself. He just wants to watch her every move, he wants to be right there beside her, going down a list as they plan their days together. 'Don't worry, doll, I'll cook tonight.'

He shakes off the fantasy and steps out of the aisle, only for something to rattle into him. He catches the basket of the rolling cart and his mouth falls open as he faces her. He didn't expect her to come back this way. Oh god.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she utters squeakily, "I didn't see you--"

"No, it's... okay," he's almost breathless as he pulls his gloved grip from the cart, "I wasn't looking."

He sidesteps her, heart racing, and quickly strides past her. He can hear her own pulse running wild. She doesn't move right away and he worries. The cart hit him hard, had it hurt her?

She rolls on and stops at the endcap, browsing the boxes of instant oats on sale. She searches and looks up, reaching for the cheaper options. A small bag which could last two weeks with a bit of rationing. She slips flat back on her soles and catches herself on the shelf. She can't reach.

He looks down and rubs his neck. He shouldn't but he has too. He crosses to her and reaches for the bag she wants. He takes it and offers it to her. She sputters out a mousy thanks. Her fingers brush his as she accepts it.

"No problem," he mutters and backs away, almost as if scalded.

He feels her looking at him, just for a moment, then she continues on to the discounted stack of tuna cans. His blood is like fire, boiling inside of him as he curses the damned gloves. He wish he could've felt her touch for real.

He has to get out of there. He rushes up to the cashier and puts his basket on the belt. He doesn't even care about it all. He just knows if he stays, he won't be able to keep his cool. He pays without thinking as the clerk packs his things in a paper bag. The crinkle makes him flinch as he picks it up. It's too noisy for him to follow her.

So he won't. He'll wait for her at her place. Just to make sure she gets back safe.

💔

When she comes down the alley, he's there, watching. The cart rattles announcing her approach and he holds his breath until she's in sight. She's limping worse than before, using the metal frame as support.

She struggles with her keys, jingling them loudly as he aims them at the slot on the iron grate. As she pulls it open, she loses her grip and it clangs violently. She's hurting, he can tell.

She tries again, this time getting between the doors to unlock the next. She turns to drag the cart inside. The inner door is left ajar as the iron one falls shut behind her.

There's a lull and he pulls out his phone to see what she's doing. She rolls the cart to the kitchen and shuffles around in a drawer. She pauses to wipe her eyes with the back of her hand. Is she crying?

She takes out a small paper pad and a pen. She scratches the nib until ink comes out then writes across it. He's confused.

She finishes and tears away the top page. She turns to hobble through the house and comes back outside. She passes through the iron door and peers around. She grips the ragged brick and bends, placing the folded paper where he'd left the cart.

She retreats inside, the door slamming louder than before. The inside door locks and he sees her on his phone screen collapse against the other side. His chest rents as he longs to burst in and scoop her up.

He can't. She's not ready. He heard it in her heartbeat. Like him, she's been alone so long, that the idea of change is scary. No, he needs to make her see that he can help her. He can take care of her.

He'll wait until he's sure she's not listening. Then he'll go see what she wrote.

[heavyhitterheaux]

The Marriage Pact Part 4 (Slight NSFW)

For Richer, For Poorer

Synopsis: You have to deal with the consequences of Jack keeping secrets from you and having to tell someone else about the pact, all while also confronting Jack about the newest member on the team and how you don't like how much time he's been spending with her.

Pairing: Fiancé!Jack Harlow x Fiancée!Reader

Read Parts One, Two, and Three first

Series Masterlist

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Ariyana was on her way to meet up with everyone in Prague, since she had to fly to Atlanta for a few days to finish up wedding planner for another couple. She actually finished earlier than expected so decided to hop on a plane to come and keep her best friend company since she knew by now that Jack and Urban were probably getting on your nerves.

She had a short layover and was scrolling through her phone when she came across the story on all of the major gossip pages on instagram and she immediately began fuming and texting you at an intense speed.

Ari- Y/N ANSWER ME RIGHT NOW. DID JACKMAN CHEAT ON YOU?

Ari- I WILL KICK HIS KENTUCKY FRIED CHICKEN EATING ASS. I WATCH ENOUGH CRIME SHOWS TO KNOW HOW TO HIDE A BODY

Ari- Y/NNNNNNN!!!!!!

Ari- What is going on? Somehow I know Urb is involved and I’m coming to kick his ass too. Don’t even warn him either. Jack got another thing coming if he thinks he can cheat on my best friend and get away with it. Who the fuck does he think he is?

Not getting a response from you, she couldn’t wait until she touched down in Prague and there would still be a few hours before Jack’s show so that would give her an opportunity to give him a piece of her mind and it was going to be anything but pretty.

You had turned your phone off once you told Jack to get out of your shared hotel room and ventured down to the spa in hopes of getting a massage and facial to relax you and take your mind off of the absolute fuckery that had popped off since this morning. You held onto the fact that Ari would be here in a few days and she would be able to keep your mind occupied off of Jack, that was unless she wanted to kill him which you knew that she did as soon as she heard what was going on.

When you finished in the spa, you decided to head back to your room in the hopes of ordering room service when you found Ari in the hallway knocking on Urban’s door with her bags in hand. She turned down the hallway to look at you and she immediately waved you over.

“You get over here now. We have a LOT to talk about since you’ve been ignoring me all day.”

“I didn’t mean to, my phone was off.” You confessed while taking it out of your back pocket and turning it on to see a slew of missed calls and text messages from different people.

The door finally opened and Ari was now face to face with Jack and she was now fuming.

“I am literally this close to kicking your ass so you better start explaining and you better start now. Come on Y/N!”

Ari pushed past Jack and Urban looked at her wide eyed when he finally saw her.

“Oh, um I thought you were coming tomorrow?” Urban asked as he went over to greet her.

“I was, but I finished early and once I saw where someone couldn’t keep his dick in his pants and possibly cheated on my best friend, I decided to make this trip a priority.”

“I…” Jack started to say, but she immediately cut him off.

“If you are about to tell me a whole bunch of lies, you can keep it.”

“But I’m not!”

“YOU CHEATED ON MY BEST FRIEND!”

“I DIDN’T CHEAT ON HER! Y/N WILL YOU TELL HER, PLEASE?!”

All you were doing was sitting in the corner with your legs crossed staring at all three of them.

“Y/N, what is going on?” Ari asked you while coming over to sit across from you.

“He didn’t cheat on me, but he might as well had.”

“Oh my fucking goodness.” Jack said as he threw his head back in frustration and Urban immediately shot him a look. 

“Jackman, you’re on thin ice so shut up, now Y/N, sweetie, explain what you mean.”

“Me and Jack made a marriage pact when we were seventeen and it was decided by the time that we were thirty that if we were both single that we would marry each other. He proposed on my birthday and told me that he had had my ring for an entire year but was too scared to say anything. He had been fucking this girl named Gabrielle and the last time he slept with her was right before he proposed to me hence, why the baby could possibly be his even though he claimed to have used protection. She is blasting it all over social media because Jackman Thomas Harlow did not give her an NDA to sign. Now can I go lay down?”

“WHAT? Hold on, there is so much to unpack with all of that. So you two literally just decided to get married?”

“Yes.” Both of you said at the same time.

“Without actually being in a relationship beforehand?”

“I said the same exact thing!” Urban exclaimed while throwing his hands up in the air. 

“I…. okay…. Not what I was expecting. But, okay then.” Ari finally said while nodding her head.

“And Jack didn’t tell her even though I told him to do it before she found out from someone else and now look what happened.” Urban said while looking at Jack who simply sighed.

“Oh, so you knew and didn’t tell her?” Ari said while looking at her boyfriend of two years.

“Ariyana! That is not my place to do that! I told him to tell her as soon as he found out!”

“And you’re obviously still talking to this girl even though you have an entire fiance? Did I get that right?” Ari asked while looking over at Jack who just sighed.

“Right before I proposed, I cut her off. It wasn’t until she found out she was pregnant that she called me.”

“I… and now Y/N is mad and upset because you lied to her, is that right?”

“And brought another so-called manager to the team behind my back and claimed that he was going to tell me.”

“Well aren’t you full of surprises, Jackman?” Ari said while looking at him.

“Now can I go lay down? You’ve interrogated us enough.” You asked while standing up and making your way towards the door. 

“Hmm, well take Jack with you because me and Urb have things to do.” 

“She doesn’t even want to be near me let alone look at me.” Jack muttered while playing with the strings on his sweatshirt. 

“Well, that’s too bad. The two of you are about to be married aren’t you? Married people talk about their problems and work them out so hop to it. We’ll see you when it’s time to leave for the venue.”

You rolled your eyes at your best friend before opening the door and Jack quickly followed you to your suite that was across the hall. Once you opened it, you simply went to sit on the couch and turn on the television without even looking at him.

“Y/N…”

“Jackman.”

“Will you please talk to me?”

“And say what? Say what exactly?” You responded while finally turning to him.

“I know I messed up, but you don’t have to flat out ignore me.”

“And you didn’t have to flat out lie to me either.”

“I… know and I should have said something to you from the beginning and I’m sorry about that.”

Just then you looked down to see Jack’s phone ringing and saw that it was Maggie.

“Hmm, I’d answer that if I were you because if you don’t she’ll be calling me next and I will tell her exactly everything that her oldest child did.”

“And what am I supposed to tell her?!”

“You have a brain, figure it out.”

Jack simply let the phone ring and all you did was roll your eyes and sigh knowing what was about to happen.

“From this point forward, no secrets and I mean it.”

“So, you forgive me?!”

“I didn’t say that. I just said there needs to not be any secrets between us.”

“We can make this work, babe. I know we can and I know the baby isn’t mine.”

“You better pray hard that it isn't.” 

Another two months or so had passed since Jack had been on tour and even though you were still mad at him, you tried not to let it show in front of other people in the hopes of not tarnishing his image. You wouldn’t say that you had completely forgiven him, but the two of you were better than you had been before finding out about the potential baby being his. There was about another month or so to go until he was able to take the DNA test, but for now you put it in the back of your mind. Jack eventually did talk to his mother and the only thing that he told her was that she was probably trying to get money out of him and left it at that. 

However, you had another problem and her name was Neelam.

She was nice… enough.

But for some reason, she rubbed you the wrong way and you didn’t like how close and comfortable she was around Jack who, being a man, thought nothing of it. Urban also saw how she interacted with him and would shoot you looks of confusion knowing that Jack knew that he was about to be a married man and that the single life was behind him. 

It had been bothering you for a while and you decided to bring it up to Jack as the two of you were now laying down in the back of the tour bus headed to the next city.

It had become harder and harder to get him alone since it seemed like she was always everywhere. You shouldn’t have to fight for a few moments alone with your fiance. 

“Bubs, can I ask you something?” You said to Jack who simply looked down at you while nodding his head.

“Of course you can, baby. What’s wrong?”

“I… it’s Neelam.”

“Isn’t she great? She’s been really helpful since Chris brought her on.” Jack answered while smiling at you and all you did was look at him with a straight face. 

“Why does it seem like I always have to fight for your attention since she’s been here?”

“Huh? What are you talking about? Fight for my attention since when? You’ve had my attention since I was eight days old. Literally no one can compete with that.”

“She is always next to you every single time I turn around and I don’t like that.”

“Babe, you’re making a big deal out of nothing and it sounds like you’re jealous. You have nothing to be jealous of because you know that I’m yours.”

“Well tell her that because it seems like she acts like the two of you are in a relationship when you know good and damn well you’re about to be married to me, so what is up with that?”

“Where is this even coming from because no she doesn’t. She knows that we’re together and has been nothing but professional and respectful this entire time.”

“I beg to differ, but whatever. Just brush me off I guess.” You said while shrugging your shoulders and it was clear to Jack that you were now pissed off. 

“Y/N, no one is brushing you off, baby. I just don’t get those vibes coming from her. You have nothing to worry about because you are literally the only person that I want and I’ve told you that time and time again. That is never going to change.”

“I don’t like her and I want her gone.”

“It’s not that simple and you know it.”

“It is that simple when she’s on your team. What are you not getting? I told you from the beginning that if I didn’t like her, I wanted her gone.”

“But I do like her and you’re coming to me with this imaginary bullshit you made up in your head about her wanting me when I know that she doesn’t.”

“Because you’re a fucking man. Girls recognize when someone is after what’s theirs.”

“She’s not going anywhere, end of discussion. So drop it.”

You had been laying on Jack’s chest and promptly turned around to face the other way so that you wouldn’t have to look at him and all you then heard was him sucking his teeth.

“Seriously, Y/N? Now you turn away from me?”

“You told me, end of discussion so there isn’t anything further that needs to be said since obviously how I feel doesn’t matter so I’ll be over here.” 

“No one said how you feel doesn’t matter so stop putting words in my mouth.”

“You agreed with me when she got here that if I didn’t like her then she would be gone, but now what changed?”

“She is literally here to help you not to have to do so much so I would think that you would be a little more appreciative towards her.”

“You know what? It doesn’t even matter anymore. Do what you want.”

“Why are you always picking fights?” Jack asked while sighing. 

“How am I picking a fight when I simply told you how I felt? You turned it back on me and said that I was jealous and delusional.”

“Because that’s what it sounds like! How are you jealous of her being around me so much when it’s her actual job when you literally have me? I am literally yours and not going anywhere. At the end of the day, you’re the one that I’m coming home to.”

“Never mind. It doesn’t even matter anymore, goodnight.”

“Y/N, come on.”

Silence.

“I wish you could see how much I love and care about you. You’re my priority and no one else, I promise you that. Let’s just see how it goes and if you still aren’t happy we’ll let her go.”

You turned back around to look at him and simply nodded before turning back around.

“That wasn’t meant for you to turn back around, I want to look at my girl. Let me see that pretty face.”

“Well you can look at the back of my head because I’m still mad at you.”

Jack sighed before he laid you on your back before climbing on top of you and leaning down to kiss you.

“Compromising is a part of marriage, baby. Is it not?”

“We’re not married.”

“Yet, so why do you have to be such a smartass?” Jack asked while starting to tickle you and you were trying to push him off of you.

“NO! Jackman! DO NOT!”

“Say you love me and I’ll stop.”

“Now you want me to lie?” You asked between you laughing.

“I… stink, stop playing!”

“Okay! Fine, fine. I love you now, get off of me.”

“Give me kisses first.”

You reached up to kiss him and he eagerly kissed back with his hand reaching underneath the shirt that you were wearing as he slowly massaged your left breast with you letting out a small moan. 

Jack then tugged on your shirt meaning that he wanted for you to take it off so that he could have better access to you. 

“How are you so perfect?” Jack whispered while leaning down to kiss you.

Once you did, his mouth quickly attached the one that he had been massaging previously while his hand reached down to rub small circles along your clit knowing that the his shirt had been the only item of clothing that you were actually wearing and was thankful for that. 

Jack heard you let out a small whimper and began to suck harder as he then inserted two fingers into you and were pumping them slowly in and out as he switched to your other breast.

“Mmm. baby.”

“Shh, we have to be quiet. Can you be a good girl and be quiet for me?” Jack whispered in your ear and you eagerly nodded before he went back to his previous task.

You wrapped your arms around Jack’s neck in order to bring him closer to you if that was even possible as he added another finger.

Since he knew that you hadn’t had sex before him, he would periodically introduce you to new things to see if you liked it or not, but also made sure not to overwhelm you. The two of you quickly came up with a safe word right after the first time.

“So wet for me, baby. I want to taste you, is that okay?” He asked while looking up at you and a slow nod was given in approval.

“I’m about to make you feel so good, spread those legs for me.”

Jack made his way down your body while placing small kisses all over it along the way and once he got to your most prized possession, he slowly looked back up at you.

“You ready?”

You said a small yes in response and Jack took one long lick across your folds without breaking eye contact with you and instant pleasure took over your body.

“Keep your eyes on me and you better not disobey me.” Was all he said before he fully dove in.

He went at a slow pace at first wanting for you to get comfortable, but as soon as you least expected it, he sped up his pace making you moan out in pleasure. You quickly put your hand over your mouth in order to muffle the moans as best as you could, but knew that some were bound to slip out. However, previously everyone had been asleep except you and Jack.

His face was covered in your juices before he slowly began to suck on your clit and that was when you lost it.

“Fuck, oh shiiiiit.” You said as you closed your eyes for one second, and Jack immediately halted his movements making you look at him in confusion.

“What did I tell you?”

“I need to keep my eyes on you.”

“So do it and don’t let it happen again.”

Jack held onto your thighs tighter since he noticed that you had been starting to move away from him and you did your best to not wake up everyone in the bus.

“Come on pretty baby, you gonna cum for me? Be a good girl and cum all over my face.”

It took less than two minutes for you to hit your peak as Jack kissed your thighs as you rode it out.

As he made his way back up your body, he left a trail of kisses and finally ended at your lips and you eagerly kissed him.

“I didn’t want to do too much at one time, you okay?”

“More than okay.” You responded while laughing and Jack simply smiled.

“Now I need to return the favor.” You said while reaching for Jack’s shorts, but he pushed your hand away.

“Next time, baby. Just wanted to make you feel good. It’s almost three in the morning so I’m going to need you to go to sleep.” Jack said as he placed kisses on your cheeks, your nose, and then your forehead.

“I love you so much and there is no one on this earth that compares to you. Got it?” Jack said as moved from over top of you and simply nodded.

“I got it, I love you too.”

You had been wedding planning with Ariyana all day and left Jack in the hands of Neelam which was the last thing that you wanted to do. But talking with Jack the other night, you felt a little more at ease. I mean it was kind of hard to compete with someone that he had known for his entire life. 

It wasn’t until you came across her instagram story which had you fuming.

Neelam Thadhani added to their story

You immediately took a screenshot and sent it to him wanting an explanation.

You- Bubs, what the fuck is this?

All you saw was the text bubble appearing and then disappearing.

You- Hmm, so much for me not having anything to worry about.

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[girlactionfigure]

THURSDAY HERO: Nicholas Winton 

The British Schindler: Nicholas Winton

He saved 669 children.

Nicholas Winton was a young British stockbroker who rescued 669 Czech Jewish children from being sent to Nazi death camps. He never told anybody of his heroism, and the story only came out 50 years later after his wife found an old briefcase in the attic containing lists of children he’d saved.

Nicholas was a 29 year old clerk at the London stock exchange getting ready for a ski trip to Switzerland when he received an urgent call from his friend Martin Blake. Known to be passionately opposed to Nazism, Martin urged Nicholas to cancel his vacation and come to Prague immediately. He told Nicolas, “I have a most interesting assignment and I need your help. Don’t bother bringing your skis.”

It is a testament to Nicolas’ sterling character and strong moral compass that he didn’t waver for a moment. It was an easy decision to sacrifice his fun and relaxing ski trip and instead travel to a dangerous place on a mysterious mission.

Two months earlier, in October 1938, Nazi Germany had annexed the Sudetenland It was clear that the Nazis would soon occupy all of Czechoslovakia. When he reached Prague, Nicholas was shocked by the huge influx of refugees fleeing from the Nazis. In early November, the Kristallnacht pogrom occurred in Germany and Austria. Jews were killed in the street and hundreds of synagogues burned down, as well as Jewish-owned businesses. This horrifying event shocked the Jewish community in eastern Europe, and thousands were now desperate to flee.

Born to Jewish parents, Nicholas was actually Jewish himself. However, his parents changed their name from Wertheim and converted to Christianity before he was born. Nicholas was baptized and raised as a Christian, and he didn’t consider himself Jewish (although was doubtless aware that Hitler would.)

In Prague, organizations were springing up to help sick and elderly refugees, but Nicholas noticed that nobody was trying to help the children. In his words, “I found out that the children of refugees and other groups of people who were enemies of Hitler weren’t being looked after. I decided to try to get permits to Britain for them. I found out that the conditions which were laid down for bringing in a child were chiefly that you had a family that was willing and able to look after the child, and fifty pounds, which was quite a large sum of money in those days, that was to be deposited at the Home Office. The situation was heartbreaking. Many of the refugees hadn’t the price of a meal. Some of the mothers tried desperately to get money to buy food for themselves and their children. The parents desperately wanted at least to get their children to safety when they couldn’t manage to get visas for the whole family. I began to realize what suffering there is when armies start to march.”

Nicholas knew something had to be done, and he decided to be the one to do it. He later remembered, “Everybody in Prague said, ‘Look, there is no organization in Prague to deal with refugee children, nobody will let the children go on their own, but if you want to have a go, have a go.’ And I think there is nothing that can’t be done if it is fundamentally reasonable.”

Nicholas decided to find homes for the children in the UK, where they would be safe. He set up a command center in his hotel room in Wenceslas Square and his first step was to contact the refugee offices of different national governments and see how many children they could accept. Only two countries agreed to take any Jewish children: Sweden and Great Britain, which pledged to accept all children under age 18 as long as they had homes and fifty pounds to pay for their trip home.

With this green light from Great Britain, Nicholas did everything possible to find homes for the children. He returned to London and did much of the planning from there, which enabled him to continue working at the Stock Exchange and soliciting funds from other bankers to pay for his work with the refugees. Winton needed a large amount of money to pay for transportation costs, foster homes, and many other necessities such as food and medicine.

Nicholas placed ads in newspapers large and small all over Great Britain, as well as in hundreds of church and synagogue newsletters. Knowing he had to play on people’s emotions to convince them to open their home to young strangers who didn’t even speak English, Nicholas printed flyers with pictures of children seeking refuge. He was tireless in his efforts and persuaded an incredible number of heroic Brits to welcome the traumatized young refugees into their homes and hearts.

The office in Wenceslas Square was manned by fellow Brit Trevor Chadwick. Every day terrified parents came in and begged him to find temporary homes for their children. Despite Nicholas’ success in finding places for the kids to stay, British and German government bureaucrats made things difficult, demanding multiple forms and documents. Nicholas said, “Officials at the Home Office worked very slowly with the entry visas. We went to them urgently asking for permits, only to be told languidly, ‘Why rush, old boy? Nothing will happen in Europe.’ This was a few months before the war broke out. So we forged the Home Office entry permits.”

The first transport of children boarded airplanes in Prague which took them to Britain. Nicholas organized an amazing seven more transports, all of them by train, and then boat across the English Channel. The children met their foster families at the train station and Winton took great care in making the matches between children and foster parents.

The children’s transport organized by Nicholas Winton was similar to the later, larger Kindertransport operation, but specifically for Czech Jewish children. Nicholas saved an astounding 669 children on eight transports. Tragically, the largest transport of all was scheduled for September 1, 1939 – but on that day, Hitler invaded Poland and all borders were closed by Germany. Winton was haunted for decades by the remembrance of the 250 children he last saw boarding the train. “Within hours of the announcement, the train disappeared. None of the 250 children aboard was seen again. We had 250 families waiting at Liverpool Street that day in vain. If the train had been a day earlier, it would have come through. Not a single one of those children was heard of again, which is an awful feeling.”

Nicholas joined the British military and spent the rest of the war serving as a pilot in the Royal Air Force, attaining the rank of Flight Lieutenant. After the war, Nicholas worked for the International Refugee Organization in Paris, where he met and married Grete Gjelstrup, a Danish secretary. They moved to Maidenhead, in Great Britain, and had three children. Their youngest child, Robin, had Down Syndrome, and at that time children with the condition were usually sent to institutions. However Nicholas and Grete wouldn’t consider it and instead kept their son at home with the family. Tragically, Robin died of meningitis the day before his sixth birthday. Nicholas was devastated by the loss, and became an active volunteer with Mencap, a charity to help people with Down Syndrome and other developmental delays. He remained involved in Mencap for over fifty years.

Humble – and perhaps traumatized by the children on the train he wasn’t able to save – Nicholas rarely talked about his wartime heroism and his own family didn’t know the details. It was only in 1988 that Nicholas Winton became widely known. His wife found an old notebook of his containing lists of the children he saved. Working with a Holocaust researcher, she tracked down some of the children and located eighty of them still living in Britain. These grown children, some with grandchildren, found out for the first time who had saved them.

The BBC television show called That’s Life! invited Nicholas to the filming an episode that became one of the most emotional clips in TV history. With Nicholas in the audience, the host told his story, including photos and details about some of the children he’d saved. Then she the told Nicholas that one of those children was the woman in the seat next to him! They embraced, teary eyed, and the host announced there were more grown children in the audience as well. She asked everybody who owed their life to Nicholas Winton to stand up. The entire audience stood up, as Nicholas sat stunned, wiping away the tears.

After that, Nicholas was showered with honors, including a knighthood for services to humanity. Known as the British Schindler, he met the Queen multiple times and received the Pride of Britain Award for Lifetime Achievement, both for saving refugee children and working with Mencap to improve the lives of people with cognitive differences. There are multiple statues of him in Prague and the UK, and his story was the subject of three films.

Nicholas Winton died in Britain in July 2015, at age 106. Today there are tens of thousands of people who owe their lives to Nicholas Winton.

For saving hundreds of Jewish children, we honor Nicholas Winton as this week’s Thursday Hero.

[cosmicpiracy]

Despair in the hotel lounge

The concert had been over for a few moments and his head hadn’t stopped pounding. Alex stood near his wife in the hotel’s private lounge as Matt’s girlfriend loudly praised them for their performance. God, he loved to see his mate happy, but was she annoying sometimes!

Specially now, when his head was pounding and he could feel all of the contents in his stomach swirl like a devilish soup. He felt lightheaded.

“Are you alright?” He heard his wife whisper in a worried voice. “Al?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He waved her off. “I’m good.”

Truth is: he wasn’t good, at all. His head had started bothering him a few minutes before the concert, but he would be damned if he was gonna cancel on such a short notice. Being married to a doctor had its perks: you learn a thing or two. And one things he learned from his wife’s notes and case reports was how to use light painkillers and antiemetics to completely abolish pain and nausea. He also got those two kinds of medication from her purse, although he refused to tell her about his state and worry her when she had just flown over. Which he would start to regret halfway through, when the music became too loud and he thought he would pass out from the pain.

“Are you sure?” She pressed further, and it felt like she really was testing his patience. His concert wasn’t what he thought it was gonna be and now, his wife was worried.

Great. Wonderful. Fucking fantastic.

“God, woman, not everyone around you needs your worry all the time!”

There was a certain silence in the room, a sort of shock. Alex had never raised his voice at his wife. It was new.

“That was so uncalled for, Alex.” So was her calling him Alex.

Ever since they met, she refused to use what she deemed to be his “fame name”. It was always Al, or Alexander, or Turner. Never Alex - everyone called him that.

So he felt a pang in his chest the moment that word left her mouth, and the hurt intensified as he watched her walk towards Katie, Jamie’s wife, who looked at her with a puzzled expression before glaring daggers at him.

As time went on, his situation got worse. He was more and more lightheaded and doubted he could walk to the hotel room if he tried. Matt was talking his ear off yet he couldn’t understand a word.

And Alex deeply wanted his wife to take care of him. Moved by the idea of telling her what was going on, apologising and going upstairs, he got up to walk towards his wife.

Only to come crashing down to the floor.

“Alexander!”

“Mate!”

He could barely make out sounds or figures, but he knew his wife’s hands enough to know she was the one examining him. And telling the boys to help her carry him upstairs.

“He’s dehydrated. But his pulse is fine, it’s probably just low blood pressure or his blood sugar. Has he eaten?” She fired off, before scrunching her forehead and whispering while looking at Nick. “Has he taken any drugs?”

While Matt would hide any information he possibly could from her, she knew Jamie and Nick would never. So when Jaimie shook his head, she knew that this could be ruled off. “Good. What about his sleep schedule?”

“I wouldn’t know, Doc, I’m not a grown man’s babysitter!” Matt snickered and Alex was sure Helders had absolutely no idea what his missus looked like when infuriated, which is why when he went quiet for a second, Alex assumed she gave him the glare while they lowered him on the mattress.

“Tour’s been hectic.” Nick told her. “Al’s been working nonstop for a few days. He wanted to be free when you got here, since you are only staying till Prague.” Alexander could feel his wife’s guilt from the bed when she saw the boys off, thanking Nick and Jamie for the information, telling Matt to take it out of his arse in a playful manner.

“Al, my love, what happened?” She stroke his cheek affectionately, starting to undo the buttons of his shirt. “Can you talk? Jesus, you are sweating too much. What are you feeling?” Alex did not have the strength to say it, but pointed at his head. “Headache?” He nodded before feeling her sit him up to take off his shirt. Alex took the moment to inhale her scent from her skin, while his weakened arms held on to her when she tried to move away. “Alexander, I’m going to take off your pants.”

With a lazy smirk, he gathered all his strength to snort. “Take me out first.” His wife just rolled her eyes.

“Oh, I will, Mr. Turner.” She said. “I’ll get you some medicine and give you a hot bath for your muscles, ok? Hang on in there.”

And she did. She gave him medicine and waited, to make sure it was going to stay inside and directed him to the bath. It’s was warm, but not enough to make his skin red with the heat. Just pleasantly warm.

Alex admired his beautiful wife, her hair in a bun, her focused eyes as she stripped to her underwear, got a bottle of liquid soap and sat behind him.

“I’m sorry for being such a dickhead to you.” He sighed as she dispersed the soap on his back and squeezing his sore neck muscles in the process. “You were looking out for me and I screwed it all up.”

“C’mon, Al, we’re good. Everything is alright, love.”

“It isn’t! It really isn’t!” He was getting worked up, she could tell. After a few years together, she knew him like the medical schemes she memorised through medschool. “George told me about the horrible shifts you had been havin and the awful cases in the morgue and how you were so tired you were taking the train instead of driving and all I wanted was for you not to worry when you were here!” He sighed, and she rinsed the soap from his skin, kissing his head lightly as he winced at his own volume. “To spend your time with me and rest.”

“Al, you are too sweet!” His wife nestled her face in his neck, kissing a bit of the skin. He intertwined their fingers. “You have absolutely no idea of how good it is just to be around you. How refreshing it was to get on that plane and know I was going to be in your arms soon.” She whispered in his ear, smiling like an idiot. “Thanks for taking care of me. Really. I could just see how tired you were, and wanted to take care of you too.” She got him out of the bathtub, drying his torso sweetly. “Isn’t that what marriage is? Two people caring for one another?” He smiled as she bopped his nose before sealing their lips together.

“But-“

“No buts, Alexander. You bought the flights, I shoo away your headaches, you sing me to sleep and I shower you in all my love and affection in the morning.” She laughed lowly as they layed in bed, his head resting in her chest. “You have no concerts tomorrow, right?” He just nodded. “Then, I proclaim bedrest for you for the whole day.” He hummed and she carded her fingers through his hair lovingly. “You are sentenced to a whole day in bed with me.”

“Clothes or no clothes?”

“Your choice.”

He hummed, as if analysing his possibilities.

“No clothes it is.” He declared. “Can you sing me to sleep today, love?”

“Close your eyes and I’ll kiss you, tomorrow I’ll miss you…”

@mywritingonlyfans @ohladymoon

[silvyysthings]

So Armie was in Prague at the end of September and at the beginning of October (refer to the pictures with flowers and with Armie on Marina account) during the same period when Timothée was in Paris 🤔. Nothing to see, obviously. I still don't understand why my boys think it's a good plan, why they're feeding shallow people whit content? I've only been here a year and a half and I feel like I'm going crazy. From a brilliant movie I started watching this non-stop soap opera. I went through all possible states, love, shock, crying for Armie, shock again, crying again for Armie, and shock, crying for Timothée, hope then again shock, shock, shock, and I ended up crying for both. But yes, what can I say, I'm staying here until the end, even if I don't like what's happening. Maybe I'm delusional because I still believe in their love, but at least it's a beautiful delusion. Because what I see in them is exactly what I would like, I don't have something like that with my husband even though we love each other and I haven't seen it in anyone else. It's the kind of connection that gives you goosebumps. One more thing, you can delete this part, one day I had a dubious curiosity and I counted how many charmie accounts Ramsey follow. I made it to 19! maybe there are more because I got bored at some point. At least 19! why? for fun? I don't think so, maybe it was funny in the CMBYN era, but now after the scandal I don't see why he would follow these accounts. And one of the accounts writes fanfic😬. Maybe he is your anonymous dude 😉 ​ I hope I did not bored you, have a nice day!

Why deleting the last part? All can see this . Sending hugs to you for your beautiful message ❤❤

[ghostinthelibrarywrites]

Say her name like an elegy

Here's a small-ish fic for Dead Boy Detectives Appreciation Week. You can read it below or here on AO3.

Prompt: hugs

Rating: T

Relationships: Edwin & Crystal

Warnings: canonical major character death (RIP Niko)

Word count: approx. 3k

Summary: When Edwin finds Crystal distraught and reading a book on necromancy, it doesn’t take much detective work to figure out what’s wrong. Providing comfort is a much more challenging endeavor

***

Edwin thinks he is acclimating well to having not one, but two additional members of the Dead Boys Detective Agency. After thirty-five years, he and Charles have learned to work together nearly seamlessly, with Charles accepting Edwin’s many idiosyncrasies with grace and Edwin coming to appreciate his friend’s occasionally chaotic way of doing things. However, he has not built such an effortless rapport with Crystal or the Night Nurse.

It would be easier if people would stop rearranging his damn bookshelf.

He’s explained his exact organizational system to both Crystal and the Night Nurse twice. He even labeled things at Crystal’s request. But the Night Nurse had barely been part of their agency for a month when she rearranged everything to a system she found more efficient, an offense he may never find it in himself to forgive. He’s just gotten everything back to precisely how he likes it again and now his bookshelf is out of order once more, with multiple books lying on the floor and others replaced haphazardly on the shelf. Several are missing altogether.

It’s almost enough to make him reconsider if the torments of Hell were all that bad.

Upon closer inspection, he sees that the out of order shelf is filled with tomes about witchcraft. The culprits could be Charles or the Night Nurse, who are in Prague investigating the cause of a particularly nasty bloodline curse. But Charles has been scrupulous about putting all of Edwin’s books in the right order since the Summoning Circle Catastrophe of 1993 and Edwin doesn’t believe his friend would let the Night Nurse anywhere near his bookshelf.

That means there’s only one possible culprit. He’s disappointed; save for a few hiccups, Crystal has mostly been respectful of his organizational system. He thought they had come to an understanding after Port Townsend. She also dislikes the Night Nurse even more than Edwin does, never having forgiven the woman for what she did to Charles at Point No Point. He thought they were allies against a mutual enemy.

Clearly, boundaries must be drawn. Edwin pivots and steps through the mirror, reappearing by the front door of Crystal’s flat.

“Crystal.” He doesn’t try to keep the bite from his voice. “I told you, I am happy for you to use my collection to aid you in researching your powers, but all I ask if for a little consideration and—”

He falters upon catching sight of Crystal, sitting cross-legged on her couch with one of his books open on her lap and a circle of crumpled, used tissues around her. Her eyes are red-rimmed and her face blotchy and tear-stained.

“Ah.” There is a crumpled tissue resting on the page of his book. He would like to request its removal, but can hear Charles’s voice echoing in his head, telling him to have a little sympathy. “Are you quite alright, Crystal?”

She glares at him fiercely, which he prefers to the crying. “What did I say about just showing up unannounced?”

“You clearly showed up to my office unannounced when you plundered my bookshelf.” Edwin puts his hands on his hips. Sympathy is getting him nowhere. “If you’ve gotten snot on that book, so help me, but I’m taking your spare key and—”

Crystal bursts into tears.

Edwin backs up a step, like the unseemly display of emotion is contagious. “Has something… happened?” he asks carefully. Could she and Charles have had a quarrel? No, Charles has been in Prague for the past two days and besides, whatever the state of their arrangement is at the moment, they both seem content enough.

“It’s alright,” Edwin says, when she just keeps weeping and doesn’t respond. “I won’t take your spare key. If I did, Charles would just replace it anyway.”

Her only answer is a sniffle. Frantically, he thinks back to yesterday morning, when he last saw Crystal. She said something about attending some event, perhaps an art exhibit. Ah, of course. Crystal’s parents are artists, are they not? He’s instantly awash with the satisfaction of having just deciphered a particularly tricky clue.

“Have you been to see your parents?” he asks, only a little smugly.

Crystal blows her nose, crumpling up the tissue and dropping it on top of the book. Edwin reminds himself that he spent decades being hunted down and consumed by a giant spider made of doll heads over and over again. He can endure this.

“They hate me.” Her voice sounds small, matching her hunched posture. He forgets sometimes that she’s a true teenager—not frozen in time like him and Charles—but right now she looks very young, sad, and uncertain.

“I’m certain that’s not true,” he says, since that seems like the right thing to say.

It apparently is not. “Are you, Edwin? Are you certain? Because I touched my mom’s hand and all I felt was… annoyance. I was trying to tell her about Port Townsend without telling her about the witches, ghosts, and demons, but she didn’t care. She was just ready for me to go so she could get back to all her admirers and stop being burdened by my problems.”

Gingerly, he goes to sit next to her on the couch, out of range of the circle of tissues. “Without knowing all the details, she cannot truly understand what happened in Port Townsend.”

“She wouldn’t understand anyway, because she doesn’t want to.” Angrily, she dashes away her tears. “The minute I stopped being their perfect little princess that she could show off to her friends like another piece of art, she stopped giving a shit. You don’t know what that’s like.”

Edwin opens his mouth to ask if he truly seems like the product of a happy, healthy family to her, then hears Charles’s voice in his head, reminding him that this isn’t a competition and Crystal is distraught.

“My parents were similar,” he says. “They weren’t artists, but they cared very much about appearances. I was their only son and they had a vision of what I would grow up to be. When it became apparent I wouldn’t live up to their expectations, they rather lost all interest in me. They sent me to St. Hilarion’s hoping I would learn to make something of myself.” His lips quirk into a smile. “I suppose I did, just not in the way they envisioned.”

Crystal’s voice drops to a whisper. “I was trying to tell my mom about Niko. How I made a friend, probably the best friend I’ve ever had, and then she died right in front of me.”

“Ah.” Edwin has to take a moment to compose himself, pressing his fists together tightly. Before that terrible day in Esther Finch’s house, he almost forgot how grief could dig its claws in you and never quite let go. When he’d returned from Hell, he’d found that everyone he’d ever known—parents, grandparents, sisters, the chubby-cheeked nephew that had been born the summer before he was sacrificed—was long gone. He could still remember the sting of losing his favorite Uncle Freddie, the only relative who ever indulged his chatter about his detective stories, when he died in the trenches during the Great War, but that old hurt had faded with time. He had grieved Charles while he watched him slowly freeze to death in that attic, but that was mitigated when Charles chose to stay with him.

Suddenly, he has a terrible suspicion why he’s found Crystal sobbing over a book after having a conversation about Niko with her mother. He peers over and his stomach drops when he sees the familiar illustrations under the tissues. “Crystal, please don’t tell me that’s Craven’s Book of Necromancy.”

She says nothing, but the guilt in her expression is answer enough. Edwin draws himself up to deliver a lecture, because how could she honestly be so foolish, so thoughtless? She saw what Esther Finch became when she toyed with the laws of nature. Is that the path she wants to take, and after Niko died for her?

Crystal looks at him, eyes filling with fresh tears, and the lecture dies on his tongue. With a sigh, he pinches the bridge of his nose. “She wouldn’t be Niko anymore,” he says. “She would be a monster wearing Niko’s face. That’s not what she would want and it would bring you no peace.”

“I know.” Her knuckles go white from gripping the book. “I read the book and I saw how much pain it’s caused.”

“It’s the last copy I know of,” Edwin says. “If that helps. And Charles and I have only used it to banish those revived through necromancy.”

“I had to look. It’s all I’ve been able to think about since I saw it on your shelf. And then I went to see my parents and—” She sucks in a breath, squeezing her eyes shut. “It’s not fair. Niko had a mom who loves her. Mrs. Sasaki is grieving her whole family now. Niko died for me. I’m still alive and for what? So I can go visit my parents and watch them wish I would fuck off back to Port Townsend?”

Bloody hell, Edwin is not qualified for this. Charles should be here, with his warm smiles that always seem to make the world seem a little kinder. Niko, who was kind and sweet and had such a big heart, should be here. Even the Night Nurse would probably do a better job of consoling Crystal.

“You are still here because Niko cared for you,” he says. “And because if Esther had killed you, Niko would have been next, and Charles and I would still surely be trapped in that house. You saved us and you were only able to do that because Niko—” The words catch in his throat as he remembers the blood blooming across the front of Niko’s white blouse, the way her eyes went wide with surprise. The living never truly appreciate how easily they can die, not until the worst happens. “Because she loved you.”

Crystal makes a ragged noise, pressing a hand to her mouth.

“If you must blame someone, blame me,” Edwin says. “She came to that house to save me. She knew the risks and she still came. I wish she hadn’t.”

“Of course she did,” Crystal says. “Because she loved you too.”

Edwin’s vision blurs. It takes him a moment to realize that his own eyes are filled with tears. Now he remembers why he spent thirty-five years keeping out of the affairs of the living. Loving mortals means losing them eventually. He just thought that he would have decades more before he had to feel the sting of losing Niko, who was so vibrant, so alive that it seemed impossible that death would ever touch her. He should have known better.

Someday, they’ll lose Crystal too. She’s young and healthy now, but she won’t always be so. She will age and she will weaken and then, eventually, not even modern medicine will be able to help. It’s a thought that makes him feel like he’s sucked in a lungful of icy air, though it’s been well over a century since he needed to breathe.

“I am so sorry for Niko.” His voice came out a rasp. “But I’m not sorry that she saved you. And I know she wasn’t sorry either.”

Her lower lips trembles and she sets the book aside. “No one’s ever cared about me like that before, before Niko and Charles. My parents wouldn’t have jumped in between me and Esther or fought David for me. Neither would any of my old friends. And I don’t know if I even deserve it.”

Edwin remembers feeling the same guilt the first time Charles was badly burned by iron trying to protect him. Sometimes, he still doesn’t understand how someone like Charles could consider him worth saving over and over. “They think we do. That’s what matters. Niko died knowing she had saved you. That has to matter.”

She’s quiet for a moment, visibly struggling to contain her tears. “I just wish there was a fix for this. It seems like such bullshit that Esther Finch got to cheat death for centuries, but Niko is just gone.”

“There’s no real cheat for death,” Edwin says as gently as he can manage. “I tried searching, right after Charles. Some things simply can’t be fixed.”

Crystal loses the fight against tears, sobbing quietly into her hands, and Edwin wonders what Charles would do if he were here. He thinks of all the times that Charles has comforted him: the warm smiles, the reassuring hands on his shoulders, the way his brown eyes go soft with affection. Edwin isn’t a warm or comforting presence. He doesn’t know how to be.

But then he remembers hugging Charles after that fiasco of a case with the two American football players, the way Charles melted into his embrace, like there was nothing more comforting than Edwin’s arms around him.

“Crystal?”

She looks up with wet eyes. “What?”

“Can I hug you?”

She tries to scowl at him, though the tears streaming down her cheeks ruin the effect. “What happened to ‘a handshake will suffice.’”

“You’ll need to get better at mimicking my accent if you insist on doing it repeatedly.” He draws back. “And it’s fine. I just thought I’d offer. I thought it might be… comforting.”

She lets out an incredulous little laugh. “Comforting?”

“I see now that I was mistaken,” he says stiffly. “I apol—”

She surges forward, sending both the book and a shower of tissues sliding to the ground. Before Edwin can protest the treatment of a one-of-a-kind text, her arms are around his middle and her face is buried in his shoulder. For a moment, he’s perfectly still, hands hovering over her back. Then, he tentatively wraps his arms around her, closing his eyes. He can almost understand what Charles meant when he said he couldn’t feel kissing Crystal, but could feel it in his head. Edwin can almost feel the tickle of her hair against his nose and the dampness of her tears soaking through the front of his shirt. It’s not entirely unpleasant.

“I miss her too,” he whispers into Crystal’s hair. “So much. But I have to believe that wherever she is, she’s happy. She deserved nothing less than paradise.”

Crystal sniffles.

“And if you’d ever like to talk about her, I’m happy to,” he adds. “I’m sorry if you’ve felt alone in your grief. I don’t find talking about these things easy.”

That gets a wet little laugh out of her. “I had no idea.”

“I have grown to value you.” Christ, why is talking about his feelings so challenging? He would rather be facing down a hellhound. “And I’m not only saying that to get you to stop crying. I see you as a…”

“A friend?”

“Yes.” He nods. “A friend, like Niko was to me. For what it’s worth, you say no one has ever cared about you like Niko and Charles. I do. Well.” He pauses, considering. “Not precisely like Charles. I will object if you try to snog me.”

Her shoulders begin to shake and for a terrible moment, he thinks he’s hurt her feelings. Then he realizes she’s laughing. “Oh my God,” she says through giggles. “I love you too, Edwin.”

He feels a reluctant smile tug at the corners of his lips. “And I… hold you in very high regard.”

“We’ll work on it.” She lets him go, wiping her eyes. “I’m sorry about your bookshelf. I was in a hurry. I didn’t want you to find me looking through the books on necromancy.”

“I forgive you.” Grimacing, he looks down at the book on the floor. “However, must I reiterate that this book is one-of-a-kind? I have to object to the amount of snot-stained tissues that are touching it right now.”

She bends to retrieve the book, shaking her head and smiling. For now, the tears seem to have stopped. He knows there will be more where that came from later. Their grief over Niko won’t go away with a single conversation. There will be other dark days, though hopefully Charles will be around to provide his own kind of comfort. It will never feel fair that they had to lose Niko, who still had so much to live for.

But right now, Crystal isn’t crying, is even smiling. And to Edwin, that feels enough like what Charles would call a job officially jobbed.

***

If you enjoyed it, please consider letting me know on AO3!

[romanoffsbish]

Something Sweet

Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Wanda’s absolutely infatuated with the baker in the city, and Natasha, the bakers bestie, knows about the mutuality, and she teases them relentlessly for it.

Warnings: Dead Parents.

Yesterday at the ungodly hour of six in the morning you'd heard incessant knocking on your door, opening it up to see the red masked spider boy dangling upside down before you. Muttering a quick, "Miss Y/L/N! Get to the high school," before he was swinging off to continue in his evacuations, and you moved around to collect your most important things; the box labeled 'in case of another disaster', and your baby boy—Mr. (Murder) Mittens.

Another attack on New York, it was almost as if it was becoming a biannual event at this point...

————

But just like every single time before 'Earth's Mightiest Hero's', the Avengers, swoop in to handle the bad guys; destroying half of the city in the process, leaving mostly ash and rubble behind in their wake, and the many an average Joe heartbroken upon learning they had to rebuild—again.

The Avengers normally would remain scarce during this time of the aftermaths effects, leaving behind an unending set of emergency funds for all those in need of assistance to rid themselves of their guilty consciences, and releasing the perfectly crafted PR statement to focus on the victory over the carnage of it all.

Fortunately for you money has never been much of a problem, your late parents being rather prominent CEO's as you were aging. They were beyond loaded, and after graduating high school they wanted to help you on your journey to fulfilling your lifelong dreams of owning your very own bakery. Putting you through the finest of culinary school's, and after the two years it took for you to obtain your Pastry Chef certification they gifted you with a shop of your own; they were filthy rich, and you were their pride and joy so really it made sense—they'd have given you the world if possible, and lord knows that they had tried.

You went to public schools over private, played outside with the neighborhood kids until the lights came on, and spent your days reading in your room, and learned how to play the keys from the internet instead of with a trainer. Throughout your childhood your dad would spend every available weekend indulging your genuine interest in the kitchen, and once you got to your teens your mom taught you how to manage a checkbook all in preparation for your future business endeavors.

The capitalistic world never fully consumed them like it did their colleagues, sure they had the luxury cars, and the villa in Prague, but they never overindulged in anything, and you were grateful for it. Being self made humbled them, and in turn kept you much the same. They'd always been your compass, guiding you through any struggle that came your way, and instilling a strong set of morals in you that were meant to last a lifetime.

Then, after their untimely death back in that first tragic attack in 2012 they literally left you with both everything, and nothing all at once. They had been trapped on the top floor of their office's skyscraper, fighting for their life while you were happily sipping on endless cocktails under the West coast sun. Nothing had felt real to you when you had returned to the city from California where you'd been helping an aunt. The cracked, and soot covered three foot neon pink cupcake lying at your feet, along with the refreshing list of names of all those lost made it impossible to ignore though.

•~~~~~~~~•-•~~~~~~~~•-•~~~~~~~~•

You were absolutely gutted, unable to fathom going on without them at the ripe age of twenty one, let alone having to plan out their funeral. Everything about the funeral felt far too stuffy, unrecognizable, snooty people in posh suits giving you their well wishes; their loud sniffles and crumpled tissues nothing short of cringeworthy.

The whole endeavor felt like one of the boring meetings they'd always complain to you about. Their words fell on deaf ears though, and you avoided them as best you could by hiding in a corner. It wasn't until a flash of red disguised beneath a grey hood had caught your eye that the event became a bit more interesting, you followed the hooded figure outside, and she was quick to pull you into an alleyway once your chase down wasn't appearing to relent. Nimble fingers pulled the hood down, and a fresh wave of anger rolled through you when her identity was revealed.

"What are you doing at my parents funeral?"

Something was off when you locked eyes with the woman, there was a clear layer of sadness in them, and the mask you expected was intentionally dropped. This vulnerability truly threw you off too because you'd read about the woman, after the attack that took your parents you had stayed up all night reading about all of them. The so called protectors that brought their fight to the Big Apple, the heroes of a generation, and the one's who left far too many to perish.

There was the noble man from the 40's with his precious shield of patriotism, the big oaf with the hammer who's vengeful brother took a joy ride through your city, the playboy with a God complex and stacks of cash, the green giant with anger problems, and then the two secretive government agents with no known enhancements that turned into the worlds heroes overnight.

Natasha had been rather captivating in your research, just the way there was hardly anything to know about her at face value. There were deep web forums that deemed her to be a cold, ruthless killing machine, only to then be countered by the city folk they interviewed who spoke of her in complete opposites. Plus the clips that were obtained showing as she held her own while guiding civilians to safety, it had actually inspired the little girl in your heart; then you remembered your parents, and it was back to an ensemble of emotions primarily fueled by grief.

"I-Um, I'm sorry for disrupting the service, I'll be on my way so you can get back."

She didn't really strike you as the stuttering type, so you found yourself too intrigued to allow her to just run off, "Natasha right?"

"Look, I don't want to cause any problems..."

"It's a bit late for that, so how about you answer my question...," You bite, feeling a tinge regretful when you notice her flinch at your harsh, but painfully honest words.

"I wanted to pay my respects, I'm sure you're not exactly a fan of mine, but it wouldn't feel right to me if I didn't see the pain we inflicted. I'm truly sorry for your loss Miss Y/L/N, and if I could've stopped what came I would've. This will stay with me for the rest of my days, our mistakes shouldn't be swept under a rug, your parents, and all those caught in the crossfire deserved better. I'm just sorry we'll live on as the monsters of your story, it's a fair juxtaposition. I do hope you manage to find peace on your journey though."

After only five minutes with the woman, and the previously overwhelming evidence to the contrary, you knew the redhead wasn't a monster. A misguided hero with immense baggage, maybe, but definitely not a monster.

"You know, my parents always told me that the true monsters hide in the shadows, and continue down a path that brings only pain. But that the people who make mistakes, and spend every day going forward trying to make it right aren't truly monsters at all. Natasha, I know that you're intentions were good, and it's a fair bet to say that when it is six up against hundreds of aliens there's bound to be casualties of circumstance. Forgiveness is an important part of life, I'm shocked I've already reached that stage, but I want you to know I don't hold you responsible here, and that for your sake I forgive you." Natasha stares at you wide eyed, a stray tear falling that she swats away instantly, but the soft smile, and eyes radiating forgiveness only makes her need to cry worse.

"Y/N, I hope you know I didn't come here seeking out your forgiveness." Her wet eyes bore into yours as she speaks, "Oh, I know that, but I'm telling you it's all yours to have." Natasha, unexpectedly, pulls you into a tight embrace, and you melted into the stranger, feeling safer with her than you did in the room full of your parents colleagues.

You mumble against her jacket, "Now that that's over, would you like to go get a drink with me? I feel like we could both use a friend about now, and definitely a shot or three..." The redhead pulls back with a smirk, nodding firmly as her hand slips into yours to drag you across the city to her favorite spot.

•~~~~~~~~•-•~~~~~~~~•-•~~~~~~~~•

After your brief moment with the woman you realized it was best for you to take a step back.

Selling off their mansion in the Hamptons, and all of their excess belongings, and donating the profits to all those affected / displaced by the recent happenings. Then you took off on a long hiatus from the world of baking, and  city life. It was a whole three years before you'd even returned, and when you did you planned to rebuild, only to find it had already been done for you, and a note on the counter of your apartment led you to the Avengers compound.

•~~~~~~~~•-•~~~~~~~~•-•~~~~~~~~•

A rather beaten up Natasha was perched on a step with a pensive expression on her face, eating a cupcake with a grimace to follow, and her eyes pleaded for you to save her.

"Thank God you're finally back, I'd kill to have a decent pastry, the current ones are just so processed, and yours never were."

With an accomplished smirk on your face you approached, "Oh, I never knew you'd been a fan of mine," you playfully mused as you settled on the step beside her.

"You were the only bakery in town that ever offered a variety of pastries, whenever I was in need of a pick me up I'd come in for a slice of the Russian delicacies you'd offered."

"The honey and apple cakes?"

"Yes! Please just promise me that they'll be on the menu Y/N!"

"Never in my days did I expect to see The Black Widow pleading with me, but seeing as how you got my shop back in working order for me it's the least I could do."

Natasha squeals, forgetting her public persona for a moment as she wasn't usually this giddy, but your budding friendship lended to her not really caring, especially not when you offered her such good news.

"Actually..." you teasingly drag the word out, hand slowly reaching into your bag as her eyes lock onto your face, "... I have something for you..." Natasha's once excited face drops when you pass her a "I ❤️ France" keychain, and right before she could shove you, you settled an entire cake tin on her lap.

"You are the absolute best, and if I wasn't happily engaged to Maria I'd be asking for your hand in marriage." You giggle as you watch the reformed assassin shovel a whole entire slice into her mouth via a nimble hand., "Well, how about instead of marrying you I just cater your guys wedding?" You playfully offer with a nudge to her shoulder, and the redhead violently nods her head in genuine approval causing you to chuckle, and realize you'd missed the woman so much more than you ever thought possible.

Natasha fills you in on all that's gone down while you were away, and she playfully fills in the gaps in your own stories, letting you know that she'd been with you the whole entire time. The conversation had flowed so naturally, and unbeknownst to the both of you it had lasted for hours, so it shouldn't have shocked you when someone came outside to interrupt the both of you, but you'd practically jumped out of your skin at the additional voice.

"Sorry to interrupt Natasha, but it's time for training, and Steve asked me to collect you."

The most beautiful woman you'd ever laid your eyes upon had made her way outside, peering down at the both of you from about ten steps up, bouncing from her left to her right foot, and the shy smile she offered had you at a loss for words., "Wanda, I'd like you to meet my good friend Y/N Y/L/N, she's a local baker who just got back into town." Wanda Maximoff, you remember Natasha mentioning her earlier on, and she's far prettier than you'd been led to envision.

Wanda cautiously makes her way down the stairs, meeting new people had never exactly been her strong suit; it apparently becomes all that much harder when you're in a foreign country, and it also doesn't help if the person you're meeting is beyond gorgeous.

Wanda stumbles over the last step, and you’re quick to catch her, causing the witch to freeze., “Sorry, it was just you were about to fall.,” Wanda shakes her head at your apologies., “No, thank you! It just sorta shocked me is all.” Wanda’s close to swooning when you smile.

“Of course, we can’t have a pretty girl falling down the stairs.,” You tease, and the witch chokes on air, but manages to cover it up as a sneeze, even if it is the dead of Winter.

“Anyways, you two have training to get to, and I have a bakery to reopen.,” You turn to the brunette., “It was lovely to meet you Wanda, and I hope to see you around.” Wanda smiles at you., “Yeah, I will see you.” You chuckle as you descend the stairs, side hugging Natasha as you do, and waving back once more as you make your way back down the dirt path.

Natasha knowingly smirks after witnessing the beyond awkward encounter, a mental note made to work her supposed magic and hopefully bring the both of you together.

•~~~~~~~~•-•~~~~~~~~•-•~~~~~~~~•

Natasha Romanoff had become your very best friend much to your own shock, but after the last five years you'd most certainly never wish to change your circumstances, especially not when the beautiful Sokovian came along with the former assassin on most occasions.

•~~~~~~~~•-•~~~~~~~~•-•~~~~~~~~•

There was a rather large crowd of people stood outside of your shop on the first day of Fall, there was a subtle breeze that had you jonesing to get into the back and start baking. You were almost certain the crowd had formed due to your menu changes that came with the upcoming holidays.

Cinnamon rolls were enhanced with the taste of pumpkin, green apple and sausage stuffing bites were made for the savory fiends, and festive ghost and pumpkin shaped donuts were added to the shelves. Your set out pies were interchangeable by your mood, one week it would be spiced apple, the next pumpkin, and for consistency there'd always be pecan.

Once you finally pushed through the crowd, reminding them that you didn't open for another two hours you entered the building. They dispersed with loud sighs, and promises to return throughout the day, and you sent them off with recommendations for the coffee shop on the corner to bide their time.

While baking in the back you heard a crash in the shop, “No, not again…” You groan in fear of another attack, but what you find instead is almost worse., “Natasha, what the fuck?”

“Good morning to you too Y/N/N, I couldn’t wait for you to open, Wanda and I here have to leave for a mission in an hour, but we also need sustenance.” She teases, and it’s only then that you notice the gorgeous brunette stood behind her wearing a sheepish smile.

“A text would’ve also worked out Romanoff…” The former assassin simply shrugs, and you shift your focus to the nicer of the two women., “Hi Wanda, what can I get for you darling?” Wanda continues to look down, attempting to hide the blush on her cheeks from the chosen term of reference., “My usual is fine.” Natasha rolls her eyes at the witches struggles, then she moves forward to hover over the counter.

You moved behind the counter to put together their usual, for Wanda: an orange scone, a block of Sokovian fudge, and a green drink; for Natasha: half a honey cake, half an apple cake, a berry streusel, and a dry cappuccino.

“Well, here we are ladies, your before we even open breakfast.,” Natasha slips you a hundred with a wink as she collects hers, and Wanda hesitates before reaching out to grab hers, the shake in her hand unnoticed by you as you worked overtime to regulate your breathing., “Thank you Y/N/N… Oh my gosh I’m sorry.,”

Wanda rushes to grab any napkin she could, rubbing aggressively at your chest, and only spreading the green stain across your top, so you resort to grabbing her wrist., “Wanda, it’s fine, I’m a baker, I have a surplus of shirts in my office. Let me just remake your drink, and you’ll be good to go.”

Wanda nearly stops breathing as your hand covers hers, paired with that gorgeous, reassuring smile of yours and she’s nearly falling to her knees, but she manages to nod. Natasha holds back her laughter at the painful debacle, but she’s not a monster, the relentless teasing will just take place on the Quinjet.

•~~~~~~~~•-•~~~~~~~~•-•~~~~~~~~•

On your walk into the city you had a wagon full of freshly baked pastries that you were handing out to all of your unfortunate shop neighbors. When you eventually walked up to your shop you were stunned to say the least, for some odd reason the freshly patched up Avengers were stood outside of your shop, all adorned in the type of attire one would wear to do yard work.

Each one of them holding a varied expression, most of the men looked relaxed, wearing sheepish smiles while Tony looked completely uninterested, and Thor was beaming with energy. Natasha was smirking your way, eyes trailing with clear intent from you and over to Wanda who wore a bright smile, and you fixed her with a glare before softly smiling back at the Sokovian who sort of owns your heart.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the band of superheroes that seem to hate my pastries..." You tease, pointlessly reaching to unlock the door because as soon as your key taps the lock the door falls in, glass shattering everywhere, and you squeal as your body is yanked back by tendrils of red., "Y/N/N, honey you have to be more careful, you could've gotten hurt."

Wanda's arms tightly holding you had you unable to string together a sentence, and the environment had become awkward the longer the brunette held onto you., "Jesus Wanda, it was just a little glass, let the girl go now, the danger is gone." Tony finally pipes up, and just like that Wanda's releasing her hold on you, and if not for Natasha's quick thinking by pulling you into a hug you would've collapsed.

"So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit from my favorite band of destructors?"

"Well, witchy over here threatened us, saying that if we weren't here bright and early to help you rebuild she'd make us all rue the day." Tony admits, and you can't fight back the smile associated with the care of the beautiful witch. "Wanda, honey, is this true? You're too kind." You softly ask, pulling her into a grateful hug, and she truly savors the moment, "Yes..." Neither of you can see the other's wide smiles, or the reddened cheeks of one flustered witch, but everyone else there can.

Tony clears his throat, and you want to rip him apart every time he seems to ruin the moment, "Listen lovebirds, this weird flirting ritual is cute and all, but some of us have life's to live, so can we get this show on the road?"

"Stark, what could you possibly need to be doing right now? Applying a tenth layer of mouse to that mane of yours?" Wanda giggles as she pulls back, settling next to Natasha once more and avoiding her teasing gaze.

Tony scoffs, looking at you as if you'd bored him, "So anyways, there's too many of you for my tiny shop, but I do think it would be nice if some of you helped the Wong's across the street, they're elderly and their kids are out of country currently, so it'll take them a lot longer to rebuild without help. Here's my black card, swipe it for anything they need—."

"Why would they need your help, we set up funds for these events. Also, how do you even have a black card, you own a bakery..."

"For a smart guy you really are quite dense." The group of Avengers stifle their reactions., "Your funds, though helpful for many, don't help lower end mom and pop shops that much. The application process is lengthy, and the processing time for many leaves them without income for nearly three months, which isn't helpful when another attack is on the horizon by the time they finally reopen their doors." Everyone present shifts about awkwardly as your words sink in, finding out that the help they provide isn't really worth that much in the long run kind of feels like the purpose was defeated.

"Secondly Stark, though my finances are none of your business, I, like you am a trust fund baby. My parents had died in that rebuilt skyscraper over there back in 2012, they were pretty prominent CEO's, they'd actually been to a few of your company's events, Thomas and Eliana Y/L/N." You note the exact moment all of them put your loaded words together, Tony's brows furrow as he starts to see the resemblance in your features, and the sarcastic demeanor he'd shown up with fades.

"Anymore questions, or are we ready to get to work my mighty men and women? I brought my famous pastries, feel free to grab one." Natasha inappropriately smirks as the rest of the groups faces fall when you enter your building with the wagon full of food, leaving them all to ponder their next moves.

"Well, you heard the woman, Wanda and I will stay to help her out, the rest of you go help the Wong's, and Tony, swipe your card—not hers!"

Wanda groans upon hearing Natasha's words, being alone with you is hard enough, but add Natasha to the mix and it becomes painful. Natasha, ever the meddling spy, has been working tirelessly for the last two years to get you two together, but you're both painfully oblivious to the others infatuations, and it leaves the former spy bewildered every time she sees the looks of longing exchanged, or the hugs and touches that linger beyond normalcy.

Wanda's completely in love with you, she has been infatuated with you since she saw you for the first time sat on those steps, and every interaction since has left her heart a mess. Teasing asshole that the redhead is, she knows this whole ordeal will become a spectacle now. After taking in a deep breath she enters your destroyed establishment, and is met with quite the sight, leaving her in a state of amusement.

"Natasha! For the last time, no!," You shout., "But Y/N/N! This fridge was untouched in the chaos, and the cake says it only expired like two days ago.," In a state of desperation you slap the cake from her hands, but she's too quick, diving straight into the rubble to save it., "That's it! I'm checking you into rehab!"

"There's no such thing as rehab for cake...," She grumbles, settling herself down uncomfortably into the rubble, hand going to open the plastic container, but Wanda's red tendrils put a halt to her movements., "Little witch, don't forget I know where you sleep...," Wanda chuckles at her empty threats, because in a duel between the two, Wanda would have the upper hand.

You continue to watch the two Avengers bicker, moving around your shop you begin to sweep up the rubble., "Oh no, you drop that broom!," Your eyes widened, her voice laced with clear annoyance and being directed towards you was unfamiliar territory, and to be honest it was truly terrifying. Wanda noticed the uncertainty in your eyes, her resolve instantly softening, "Dorogoy, there's just no reason you should be sweeping, leave it to us."

Your grateful, lopsided smile instantly melts her, and Natasha holds back a gag at the sight., "To her, leave it to her, if I can't eat then I clearly wasted my time coming down here." Wanda slaps the assassin upside her head, then runs in your direction for protection, but really it's her perfect excuse to hold you from behind.

Natasha jumped up so fast that the cake had gone flying which left her even angrier, "You!" She seethes, finger pointed at the witch behind you, but she falters in her anger when she sees your hands outstretched before your smiling face, a fresh slice of the honey cake plated up, her mouth instantly salivating, and her body lunged forward to snatch up the plate.

Maybe she was addicted... Oh well...

Wanda spun you around so fast, and pulled you into a tight hug, "Y/N, you're my hero..." She lightly teases, whole body warming as she's able to pull a sweet laugh from you, and to be able to feel as your body shook within her hold. "I wonder if the boys are having any better luck with the Wong's restaurant, because so far all we've done is stop Natasha's tantrum..."

"Well that just won't do at all now will it? The guys ego's will inflate if they're ahead of us.," Wanda muses as she reluctantly pulls away from you, then with the snap of her fingers, and the most adorable crinkle of her nose your bakery is blanketed in a mist of crimson. Wanda intently watches your face, the way that your eyes light up and mouth falls open at the sight of her magic fixing the entirety of your building brings her so much joy, and peace. That the magic she's always been so hesitant to use in front of you in fear that you'd be scared does the exact opposite settles her soul.

"Wanda, this is fucking amazing, you're so cool.," Natasha snorts., "Cool? Yeah right.," The assassin effortlessly avoids the object thrown at her face as she makes her way over to you for a hug., "Did you see the googly eyes? The little witch could be all yours for the low price of you growing a pair and finally asking.," You knew she had an ulterior motive here, but you'd also never deny the woman a hug, they're rare as can be, and her hold is always calming., "Tasha, you're beyond blind, there's no way she's into me...,"

"No, you're the blind one..." Natasha groans, because once again you act as if the witch hadn't been staring at you like you hung the moon and the stars less than a minute ago, not to mention the unnerving glare Wanda's taken up since you've entered the current embrace., "Wanda! Stop glaring, and just ask this nitwit out already! You're both aggressively oblivious, and it's pissing me off! I want to do the double dates, and stop this third wheeled nonsense."

"Natasha Romanoff!" You shriek in total embarrassment, shoving the cackling assassin away from you, and your weak glare does nothing to the woman who just slips out of the room in the hopes that the forced solitude will cause some much needed progress here.

Wanda's heart was beating wildly in her chest, exactly what she feared would happen did, but deep down she was also a bit grateful that the information was at least out in the open now, and judging by your peaked heart rate and drooping head Natasha definitely wasn't lying about just how oblivious you both had been.

Wanda cautiously approaches you, her fingers under your chin to lift your head, but your eyes stay shut, obvious tears settled on your lashes., "Y/N, honey, can you please look at me?," Wanda's heart constricts when she sees the fear in yours, while you suddenly feel rather small under her softened gaze, and the panic of an impending rejection completely takes over., "I'm sorry about Natasha, I-I hope this doesn't change anything between us, I do really, really like you Wands, and I don't want to lose you just because you don't feel the —."

Her finger settles over your lips, effectively cutting your panicked speech off., "Who said I didn't feel the same? Goodness Y/N, I've been all over you since I got here, is my love for you not obvious? I was just worried that you would never feel the same." You snort beneath her finger., "Wanda, I drop off Sokovian treats weekly just to see your smiling face, I have sat there for hours if you're not readily available. Actually, I did months of research just to be able to perfect those treats, and you're worried about me not feeling the same?"

"Well, you make Natasha her Russian treats.," She reasons, and you look up to her seriously., "Yeah, because I value my life." Wanda rolls her eyes, but then she nods in understanding, her hands move about to cup your cheeks, she smiles when you lean into her touch, and she just admires your face while the room falls silent.

"So, you love me then?" You lightly tease, and she groans at her previous slip up, her head falling against your shoulder., "Let me tell you a secret Wands, I might kinda love you too." She quickly pulls herself back upright, her eyes searching yours for the truth, and finding it.

"We're idiots.," Wanda giggles as she realizes just how oblivious the both of you'd been this whole time, and you laugh along with her as you settle into her warm, welcoming embrace. Natasha re-emerges, ruining the moment with a slow clap., "Yeah, you guys really are!," she dodges Wanda's zap of red., "I'm going to tell the guys how great we did over here, you two don't stay out too late, and use protection!"

"Remind me, why do we keep her around again?" You whisper to the giggling witch., "Because I'm fun, and you both love me!"

—

After reluctantly departing from one another you'd both gone off to plan for the first date. You wanted everything to be perfect, so you had picked Wanda up a bouquet of gardenia's, and booked one of the nicest restaurants in the city to hopefully impress her. Meanwhile Wanda had planned for something far more intimate, and so after you gave her the flowers, and shared a delicious meal, she dragged you to her car with promises of a continued night.

After an hour of driving you began to wonder if she had a good time., "Wanda, was dinner ok?"  Wanda's hand settled on your thigh, followed by a light squeeze of reassurance. "Yes detka, everything was lovely, why do you ask?," Sighing you shift to face her, nervously you play with her fingers "It's just, I wanted this to be perfect is all, and I was scared it wasn't."

Wanda pulls over into a random parking lot, shifting to face you with a sweet smile.,"Detka, it was perfect to me when you agreed to the date, everything else is just extra noise. The flowers were beautiful, the conversation was perfect, the food delicious, and the woman sat across from me was a sight for sore eyes. Now, stop worrying your pretty head, and come on."

Wanda escorted you out of the car, and into a vacant field, a blanket in her hand, and a wide smile on her face., “Thought we could watch the sunset, then lay under the stars for a bit.,” Her pure, unwavering excitement had your heart thumping out of beat., “Sounds perfect.,” You settled down onto the blanket, then she sat down right behind you, and wrapped her arms around your waist, you momentarily forgot how to breathe, but you shortly found yourself melting into her embrace.

—

Wanda was staring up at the stars, a hand lying over her abdomen, while the other was lightly laying over your hip., "Wands, where do you see this going? I mean, you're this badass superhero, and I'm just a silly little baker." Wanda squeezes your hip, gently readjusting herself on the blanket until she's hovering over you, and smiling down at your pouting face.

"Y/N, honey, you're far more than a silly little baker, and we both know that. I'm all in here, I didn't just say I love you for a chance to get in your pants or something like that. I want you, my sweet girl, every last bit of you is perfect." Wanda leans down to quickly peck your nose., "The way you take care of everyone around you without even a second thought for yourself; you're thoughtful, kind, loving, and selfless."

Wanda's heart skips when she sees you crying., "You're also hilarious, I've never laughed with anyone else like I have you, not even Pietro, and don't get me started on your laugh, it's literally my favorite thing in the world to hear. I'm hopeful that us together will be forever, because it's only been my wildest dream since I met you, and I like to think dreams come true."

"Plus, the Avengers would choose you in the divorce, your pastries are out of this world." Wanda beams when your unfiltered laughter fills the space between your bodies, and she watches as your entire body shakes with happiness, her whole body warms knowing it was her doing, and in the high of the moment she leans down to captures your lips in an overdue, heated kiss, and after a brief state of shock your lips move against hers, and your hands were quick to pull her that much closer. 

"I'm all in Wands, the whole entire shebang; traveling, marriage, kids, you name it, I want it all with you. It'll be us against the world." You breathlessly whisper against her lips., "Yeah?" You nod, and she leans back into you for a much softer kiss., "I love you Y/N/N.," you smile against her lips, "I love you too Wands..."

Wanda nuzzles into your neck, you run your hands through her hair, and over her back. After only a few minutes you feel her slacken against you, so you wrap her half of the blanket over the top of you, and sigh contently as you settle with the idea of sleeping under the stars with the woman of your dreams.

————————————————————

"Y/N Y/L/N! Natasha and I will Rock, Paper, Scissors to death for the last slice of the cake!" You snicker at your best friend's little sisters antics while doing your afternoon restocking, "Or, if you'd both be patient, I'd have a couple more honey cakes on the shelves in less than five minutes."

"Well Y/N/N, she didn't even get your name right, and as your best friend of a decade I think I overrule her anyways..." Natasha chimes in while sat anxiously at the counter of your shop, "That's not fair! She can't always pull the best friend card!"

"I'm going with Natasha on this one, we've been married for three years now, and yet she continues to use Y/L/N as if it's a placeholder for Maximoff, it's downright offensive." You turn abruptly at the sound of your wife's voice, beaming when you see the stroller and the bags in her hands.

So you drop the last slice onto the counter, abandoning the bickering Russian's, and make your way over to her. Wanda settled the bags down on a table so she could catch you in her embrace, giggling as she spins you, and absolutely loving how clingy you always are even if it'd only been an hour spent apart.

"I'm here to make some chicken paprikash for your customers." She proclaims as she settles you back down, then pecks your waiting lips. "You're simply the best." You coo, pulling her in for a much deeper kiss before the dinging of the door interrupts you both.

Wanda kindly smiles at your customer, then moves to the kitchen while you remain behind to greet the regular, and after fulfilling her order you scoop up your now awake infant. Bouncing the sweet angel on your hip while you wipe down a few tables around the shop. Her head comfortably rested against your shoulder, droopy eyes telling you she's still tired, but it's unlikely she'll go back to sleep when she smiles at you the way she just did.

Natasha taps your shoulder as you glide by., "Yo, give me my niece, you have work to do.," She teasingly proclaims with outstretched hands, but before she can manage to take Lilliana from you Yelena cuts her to the chase., "You got the cake, so I get the baby!"

The oven beeping pulls your attention from the sisters who were once again bickering, your daughter's giggles filling the empty shop warms your heart, as does the sight of your wife's focused face through the window into the back as she stirs up the pot of deliciousness. Mouthwatering smells suddenly fill the space around you as a new spread of pastries fills the shelves and they meld perfectly with your wife's home country’s cuisine. 

You slightly jump, but can't fight the bright smile overwhelming your face as your wife wraps her arms around you from behind., "Paprikash is almost done moya lyubov'.," your hands settle over hers as you lean back into her hold, “Smells absolutely delicious baby.,”

Wanda spins you around and into a sweet kiss., “Thank you honey. Now, care to tell me what’s going on over there?” You chuckle when you look over her shoulder to see Natasha with a giggling Liliana in her arm, but with her other arm securely wrapped around Yelena’s neck., “You know Wands, I honestly don’t know, but Lili looks content enough.”

Wanda hums., “You know, business is going to likely be slow for another hour, if you were interested, I might have something sweet for you in your office.” Her lips gently touch to yours once more, then she’s gone just as soon as you blink., “Yelena, watch the shop!” You shout out to the pouting younger sister, but wink to Natasha so she knows you really meant her before running off to find your wife.

You’re smiling the whole way there as you reminisce on all the ways that this little shop has made your life the dream that it is today.

It even makes it worth it that you have to rebuild it every six to eight months…

————————————————————

6,548 Words

[hathorneheiress]

Alright, so I think we found, (Or more @riddles-n-games found) the surprise for tomorrow.

I am so thrilled I can't tell you how happy I am. I was not expecting this. I thought the next book for TGG not a complete book for the original characters?! It's a dream come true.

Anyways, we have information that we are going to get 5 stories and 2 novellas in the book! Like wow!!

It seems to suggest each story is for one couple. (Which is lovely) So, here is what I think each story will enfold and for what TIG couple.

A night in Prague. Definitely Avery and Jameson. No questions asked. This is going to be a novella so I expect it to have quite a bit. We know in TBH that Avery and Jameson were travelling together, but what made him come back like that? We know at the beginning of TBH they seemed to be having some couple trouble. Is it possible they had a fight and Jameson left in his anger? Is that why he didn't come back late? Not sure, but I'm sure it will be answered in the book.

The same backwards and forwards. Toby and Hannah. Another novella. We know a little bit of how it was for them through the letters, but I hope we can see more of their romance. Personally, I hope it's through Hannah's POV. I think it would be more special and Toby doesn't remember much anyways. We know Hannah hated him, but when did she start to love him and when did he start to love her?

The cowboy and the goth. Nash and Libby. And the one I am most excited for. I don't think it's going to be their wedding. I really hope that is in TGG. maybe it will be some sweet moments between them we hardly ever got to see.

Five times Xander tackled someone. (And one he didn't) Xander and Max. I'm guessing it's going to be a fun little read of Xander being Xander. I feel like the one person he doesn't tackle is Max. But why didn't he? What led up to it? Who else did he tackle? Probably each of his brothers, but was the fifth another person? All questions running through my mind.

One Hawthorne night and What happens in the tree house is most likely from the other books so I won't go into my theories on that. I will say there might be some additions JB could add to it, but I highly doubt it.

Secret Santa. Okay, this is really tricky. I think it could either be Grayson and Lyra OR maybe Alice and Tobias. I'm leaning toward the latter. BUT... we have no idea if we are going to even get that, but the theme seems to be for this book is about how a Hawthorne loves is like no other. We have each brother and their girls. Toby and Hannah's love story. So maybe this could be about how the great Tobias met his future wife. Maybe he was her secret Santa and they hit it off. Him realizing how much he loved her? Maybe, but I'm not positive.

Pain in the right gun. Possibly Grayson and Lyra. Partial credit to @riddles-n-games for this idea. Not exactly sure what it will entail, but maybe some sweet moments between Gray and Lyra. Maybe they talk about their rough lives and how they want to make it better. As I said, I'm not too sure so if you have ideas feel free to let me know.

Thanks for listening. I enjoyed writing it out and I'm so excited for tomorrow!!! Really hoping we are right. (Even though I'm positive we are) Maybe Jb will give us more information on the book. That would be lovely.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Does oddduck know that Bruce is Batman or is he just a billionaire helping out Superman? Bc if not it would be adorable for oddduck to go on one of her rabbit holes and gush about Batman meanwhile Clark’s eye is twitching.

I mean she knows but she knows because Clark accidentally let slip the truth- here's his eye twitching anyway

"It was fine, Clark- I just went because-"

"Fine. Right," Clark huffed, watching you pick up a box off your doorstep. "So what did-"

He breaks off and watches you for a second, watching you open the box carefully and pick up a card from the top, biting your lip as you read it before tucking it carefully aside and untying the string that held the brown paper in place. "Did you get an advance on something?" Clark asked, peering over your shoulder to see a leather-bound copy of a book.

"No-"

"It looks pricey," he said, feeling annoyed. Bruce didn't have any idea what he was doing. He couldn't. You were going to think- well. As he watched you open it carefully, skimming your fingers over the words, it was hard to tell what you thought. But, it didn't make him less annoyed.

"Y/N he's dangerous," Clark said softly.

"And you're a space Alien," you point out, "Basically any time we went out in the woods we were one laser blast away from living in ET."

"Y/N-"

"He doesn't even like me that way it's just- I talked about this book a lot when we were in Prague- and he's being nice."

"You like him," Clark said folding his arms.

"Is there anyone who doesn't? I mean isn't that-"

"No, you really like him," Clark said, straining to keep the distaste out of his voice. "But I don't think-"

"Well. Ultimately it doesn't matter what either of us think. It matters that he's just being nice and I'm a way to pass time-"

"Y/N he's not-"

"Pick a struggle, Clark. Either you want me to be happy or you want me to be bubble wrapped but those two things aren't possible at the same time," you sigh, carefully closing the book.

"The last time-"

"Is also not your business," you tell him. "I didn't ask you to interfere-"

"He was a piece of shit," Clark said, "And you just-"

"I didn't 'just' anything," you sigh. "Can you please-"

"If he doesn't treat you right-"

"We're not in a relationship!"

"Well he sent you a book so, if you're not you're the only one who doesn't know yet."

"Clark."

"Just pointing it out-"

"Well don't," you snap. "I don't interfere with you and Lois-"

"Since when?" he snorted.

"Knowing things against my will isn't the same as seeking the information out," you tell him. 'You both tell me everything. All the time. And fuck-"

When your voice breaks off and you walk away from him to get your composure back Clark stops and looks at the box on the table. "Y/N- I don't-"

"I love you both but fuck," you snap, "do you know how fucking lonely it is when your only two friends are a married couple? And every time-" You stop yourself and shake your head, wiping away frustrated tears. "You know what? It doesn't matter. Thanks for your concern but- I don't think it matters."

"Y/N-"

"I'm not talking about this anymore," you tell him. "I'll get the banana bread for you to take to Lois so you don't miss dinner."

Clark nodded silently felt quietly furious with himself as he listened to you rustling around in your kitchen. Of course you were lonely. And of course you were annoyed. And worse you felt like you couldn't say anything. "I'm sor-"

"No."

"Y/N."

"Extra no. Just take your banana bread and hug Lois for me."

"Call Ma," Clark scolded, letting himself be herded out the door, "She misses you."

"I will," you answer.

"Hey," Clark said gently, squeezing you against his side and kissing the top of your head, "I love you, kay? You're my favorite weirdo."

" 'kay," you murmur, hugging him back briefly before letting him go and stepping back into your house.

[rhaenella]

You & Me - Rhys Montrose x Reader - Part 22

Part 21 | Masterlist

Summary: What happens when reader assassin is tasked with killing the possible future mayor of London; Rhys Montrose. Politician by day, Eat the Rich Killer by night. But he isn’t the only person wearing different masks. 

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Violence, murder, immoral sociopathic behaviour, mentions of alcoholism, drug abuse and neglect, smut

Word count: 4.7k

A/N: another Rhys pov! (to make up for the long hiatus lolol) Enjoy <3

Song: And so It Begins – Klergy 

“The disappearance of Tom Lockwood, sir.”

Bloody hell.

Even in death, the bastard managed to find a way to disrupt Rhys’ life and well-crafted plans one way or another. 

He felt a surge of adrenaline, but whereas most other people would succumb to the nerves, start sweating and rambling, make mistakes. Rhys didn’t. Instead, it only sharpened his focus, making him that much more dangerous. 

The reporter had used the word disappearance, meaning Lockwood’s body hadn’t been found, meaning there was no physical evidence that could potentially link him to the crime, which ultimately meant that he was in the clear. At least for now. If he played it right, perhaps Rhys could even turn this little hiccup into a story that would reflect him positively in the press.

The mob of journalists and cameramen were waiting with baited breath for him to comment, silence befalling the crowd once more. The only sounds that could be heard were that of the bustling city around them—the honking of a double-decker bus, London’s never-ending construction noises, and the screeching of a police siren a mere two blocks away. 

Rhys allowed a mixture of emotions to pass over his features. Initial shock—which hadn’t involved much acting—followed by a hint of grieving sadness, before he settled on a more calm, compassionate look. Because, like any good psychopath who studied the intricacies of human emotion, Rhys knew that that’s what the public needed to see in a leading figure. Someone who showed the appropriate level of feelings and compassion, but ultimately was able to offer reassurance and take action if need be. 

“Mr. Lockwood…” Rhys shook his head, unfolding his clasped hands to convey a subliminal message of openness and sympathy. “I must say that I am deeply shocked by this news. Is there any more information regarding his disappearance?”

“News surfaced after an anonymous tip was made to The London Dispatch, a spokesperson for the T.R. Lockwood Corporation has just released a statement that they are and have been aware of the circumstances and are working on an internal investigation, the Met Police have also just reported they are launching their own investigation,” the same reporter summarised, reading off of his phone. “Any thoughts on what could have happened, Mr. Montrose?”

Any thoughts… Oh, he had plenty, alright. 

An anonymous tip. To The London Dispatch. That could only be from one man: Jonathan. 

Did he seriously have the balls to go to the press, knowing full well that Lockwood’s disappearance could be traced back to him? Rhys hadn’t thought he would raise the alarm after revealing that detail to him, but it seemed Jonathan was keen to call his bluff.

On the upside, Lockwood’s employees had tried to keep the whole thing under wraps, just like you and Rhys had predicted. But now that it had come out, the peace and quiet would come to an end, especially with the police’s involvement as well.

“I could not say at this time, I’m afraid,” Rhys stated, schooling his actual thoughts. “I think, as of now, the best course of action is to allow all parties involved to conduct their investigations without adding unnecessary speculation that could potentially hinder their job.”

That prompted an immediate response from the crowd.

“You don’t think Lockwood’s partners should’ve been upfront about their CEO going missing?”

“Lockwood was last spotted in Prague–”

“Hasn't his staff already been hindering the police?”

“–over two weeks ago, what are the chances that–”

“Considering these suspicious circumstances–”

“–could this be another murder?”

“I understand,” Rhys interrupted, raising his hands in an attempt to quiet the masses. “I understand the demand for answers. I do. But we have to let them do their jobs. The Met Police will get to the bottom of this and find Mr. Lockwood, I have every faith.”

Lukas stepped up to the press then, drawing their attention with a wave of his hand. “That will be all for today, everyone. Please, step aside to let Mr. Montrose pass.”

They did so begrudgingly, some ignoring his campaign manager as they kept shouting questions left and right. Rhys walked past them, thanking them for their time. His head of security met him halfway, guiding him the last couple of metres to the car.

“Where’s Y/N?” Rhys asked.

“She’s waiting in the car, sir,” Reggie answered.

“Mr. Montrose!”

“One final question, please!”

Rhys easily picked up on the thinly veiled exasperation in Lukas’ voice as he tried to reason with The Telegraph. “No can do, sir. Mr. Montrose is already late for his next commitment. If you have any follow-up questions, please feel free to send them to our office.”

But the seasoned reporter wouldn’t just let it go, following Rhys all the way to the kerb.

“Mr. Montrose! What about his family?”

Reggie had already opened the passenger door, but Rhys paused, turning back around. He had to give it to the guy, no politician in their right mind could ignore that type of question.

He wetted his lips, a mournful smile flickering across his face. “Ofcourse, I give my deepest sympathies to Mr. Lockwood’s family during these uncertain times. I hope he will soon return in good health, and be reunited with his loved ones.”

Rhys dipped his head, pouring all the sympathy he did not actually feel into a final smile before he slid into the back of the car, where he was greeted by you, sending him an amused but troubled look. 

Reggie shut the door as Rhys leaned forward to speak to the driver. “Take us back to Primrose.”

“Yes, sir,” the driver nodded. “We might hit some traffic, though. There’s been an accident on Holborn and City Road.”

“That’s alright. Nothing we can do about it. Get us there as quickly as you’re able.”

“Straight away, sir.”

Rhys raised the soundproof, glass divider between the front and back of the car, giving you the privacy to talk about all that had just transpired without the driver being able to eavesdrop. 

You turned to face each other as the car pulled into the stream of ongoing traffic.

“So. Deepest sympathies, huh?”

“Why yes, ofcourse, darling,” he grinned.

You snorted. “Liar.”

He was about to retort when his phone started ringing. Rhys checked the caller ID, and sighed. “Excuse me, this won’t take long,” he said, accepting the call. 

“I don’t want to hear a word about Cynthia, Luke,” Rhys announced, wanting to move past his indisputable error in judgement quickly. “Go back to the office, coordinate from there. We need to get an official written statement out ASAP, one that is based on all the facts known at present.”

“Agreed, sir. I’ll fetch Brian to–”

“No. No, have Sam write it, she’ll need the experience. Just make sure to double check it before you post it online.”

“You don’t want to read it yourself? Are you not coming to the office?”

“No, I’ll meet you there later. There’s another pressing matter that requires my attention first. I trust you to handle the situation while I’m out.”

“Yes, Mr. Montrose.”

Rhys ended the call and pocketed his phone before resting his head against the headrest. What a day this was turning out to be. And it wasn’t over yet. Not by a long shot. 

He must have involuntarily let out another sigh, for he felt the softness of your touch, your slender fingers wrapping around his hand. 

“How is that patience of yours doing?”

“I won’t lie, it’s hanging by a thread.”

“Figures,” you smiled, squeezing his hand.

Your smile was quickly overshadowed by that same troubling look from before, one which you didn’t have to hide anymore.

“That anonymous tip… it must be–”

“Jonathan? Yes, I think so, too,” Rhys finished. “Unless you called The London Dispatch and failed to inform me of a new tactical move.”

You shook your head no as the car slowed to a stop, now officially stuck in the busy rerouted traffic. “Nope, it definitely wasn’t me,” you said, looking out the window to catch a glimpse of St. Paul’s looming presence.

It was a cloudy day, ten a penny for London, even during the summer time. The storm front may have passed, but the uncertainty of what was coming still lingered in the air.

“Whilst you were giving your statement to the press, I kept thinking, why?” You looked back to Rhys. “Why would Jonathan do this now? He knows that we put the account that was used to bribe the pilots in his name. That was supposed to keep him quiet, at least for a little while longer. So, what’s his angle?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, the same question dominating his thoughts. “Jonathan’s calculated. But also rash, and unpredictable, as today has clearly demonstrated… We need to act quickly before he goes from being a liability to a full-blown threat.”

You chewed your lip. “You know who else can become a threat?”

His eyes flickered between yours, trying to find an answer there as he mentally went down the long list of possible enemies he made along the way. The ones that were still able to draw breath, that is. 

Only one name came to mind.

“Marcus Atkinson.”

The man who conspired with Lockwood to have Rhys removed from the upcoming elections, by categorically trying to erase him from the face of the earth. 

“Atkinson,” you agreed. “So far, he’s been quiet, but there’s no telling what he’ll do now that the news of Lockwood’s disappearance has been made public.”

Rhys hummed, affirmative. “You’re right. We need to prepare for every possibility.”

“Is that why we’re going home?”

“No,” he said, a little reluctant. 

You frowned, not following. “Then why did you tell the driver to take us back to Primrose Hill?”

He sighed. “Because you’re going home, whilst I go and pay dear old Jonathan a visit.”

You paused, slowly letting go of his hand as the meaning of his words landed.

“You’re what?”

“You heard me.”

Rhys set his jaw, his decision already made and final, but that didn’t stop you from glaring at him.

“And you’re sidelining me because…?”

He looked away, something flicking over his expression. “It’s the only way I know how to keep you safe.”

“Excuse me?” you scoffed. “What about me and what I do for a living gives you the impression that you need to keep me safe?”

Rhys winced. He’d anticipated this reaction from you. But there was no way in hell he would allow you and Jonathan in the same room ever again. It wasn’t that he didn’t think you could fend for yourself, because, as more than one occasion had attested, you certainly knew how to throw a punch or two. And make it hurt. He himself was privy to the knowledge. 

However, he didn’t trust Jonathan and what he would do… Especially now. Besides, as far as Rhys could tell, Jonathan still didn’t know anything about your true identity. And he’d very much liked to keep it that way. 

“He’s a psychopath, Y/N,” Rhys stressed. 

“Right,” you drawled. “Do you want me to look up the exact definition? Because I’m pretty sure it would also include present company.”

He smiled, bitter. “I’m not planning on hurting you. Jonathan might. You know the things he was mixed up in across the pond. If he figures out how important you are to me…”

His forehead creased with genuine concern, and even in your anger, your eyes softened a little at the admission.

“I know you can take care of yourself,” he amended. “But that doesn’t take away from the fact that I want to keep you as far away from him as I possibly can.”

You nodded thoughtfully, still far from happy with his decision. But Rhys wasn’t going to change his mind, and you knew it as well.

Once again, the sound of a phone pinging interrupted your conversation. Privately, Rhys hoped it would put an end to it as well, although you quickly relieved him of that illusion. “We’re not done talking about this.”

“A man can hope,” he muttered.

You shot him a warning look as you retrieved your phone, effectively making him shut up.

He looked around, noticing they were still motionless. No. That wasn’t right. They had moved about three car lengths in the last five minutes. Progress, he thought, clocking his inner voice’s sarcasm with a wry smile. At least the extended travel time would give him a little more time to prepare for his surprise attack on Jonathan. Although, that twat was likely already waiting for Rhys to show up after the shit he pulled earlier today… 

Rhys gritted his teeth as he thought of Jonathan. How he must have watched the press interview live on tele, probably thinking he’d won this game… Well, Rhys would make damn sure that his victory would be short lived. 

A startled noise came from your side of the car, and his eyes shot back to you, jerking him from those thoughts. 

Your wide eyes were scanning whatever message had appeared on your phone’s screen, four times over, as if making sure your eyes weren’t deceiving you. A wave of worry careened through him as he watched the colour drain from your face.

“Y/N?” he said, alarmed.

“Oh my god…”

Frantically tapping the screen, you brought the phone closer to your face. “Oh my god.”

Before Rhys even got a chance to ask what the hell was going on, you’d already pressed the device to your ear, fingers now tapping restlessly against the car’s interior door.

“Y/N,” he said, firmer this time, clasping your hand in his. You looked at him, panicked, uncertain… terrified. Rhys felt his own stomach drop. “What happened?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out.

The call went straight to voicemail, and you groaned in frustration. “Damnit, she’s not answering her phone.”

“Is it Zoe? Sadie?” Rhys tried, concern slipping into his voice. 

He softly squeezed your hand to garner your attention. It worked. You refocused on him, visibly swallowing a tang of adrenaline before shoving your phone into his hands. Rhys read the ID: Zoe. He was right—there were only so many people that could pull this type of reaction from you. He could probably count them on one hand.

His eyes slid down to read the most recent incoming texts, and he sucked in a breath, immediately understanding your nervousness.

>>> mum’s back

>>> please come

Your mother… 

Alarm bells went off inside of him, his concern slowly getting replaced by something sharper, harder. 

You’d both known the day would come, yet the words on the screen still shocked him to silence, the only thing he could muster a feeble, “Fuck…”

“Yeah…”

Rhys closed his eyes. Another person who had completely disappeared—albeit not by your doing—resurfacing. It had been quite the mystery as to what had happened to her, and you had spent many a night trying to figure out where she could have possibly gone. Without much success. But now she had seemingly returned.

The timing could also not have been better. Apparently Murphy’s Law always lurked around the corner somewhere.

“Where did she come from all of a sudden?”

“From hell, likely.”

He huffed a strained laugh. That was certainly one possibility. Rhys met your gaze, then. The initial shock had lifted, and now the fire he’d grown to love glowed bright in your eyes.

“I’ll kill her,” you whispered, unyielding. “I swear to god, if she’s hurt them… I will kill her.”

You snatched your phone from his hands, your thumbs flying over the keyboard as you typed out a series of messages in quick succession.

“Hey,” Rhys said, pitching his voice into a soothing range. “They’re gonna be okay. Just like their big sister, they can fend for themselves.”

“I know they can,” you said, still holding your phone in an iron grip. “But after what happened last time, I can’t help but worry.”

He couldn’t stop himself. “I know the feeling...”

You dropped your phone, turning to him with a look that made it abundantly clear that now was not the time to test you. 

“Rhys,” you warned.

“Sorry…” he muttered, squeezing your hand again. “How do you wanna tackle this?”

“I’m going over there.”

“Right now?”

“Yes. Right now. I have to make sure they’re okay. Besides, it’s not like I have anything better to do,” you shot back, eyes narrowing.

Rhys pursed his lips. Yep. He deserved that.

You looked outside to find that you were, still, stuck near St. Paul’s. And it didn’t look like that was going to change anytime soon. Sighing, you clasped the door handle, but before you could sprint out, Rhys tugged you back to him.

“Whoa, wait a second,” he said, worry seeping back into his voice. He didn’t want to part like this. “Are you sure you want to do this by yourself? I can help.”

You looked at him evenly. “This can’t wait. And neither can the Jonathan situation.” 

Damnit. 

No, it couldn’t.

“I’ll take care of my mother while you take care of our professor,” you offered, running your thumb over his hand in an attempt to persuade him. However the grim look on your face wasn’t helping.

He held your gaze for a long moment, equally grim, before nodding once. There was no other way. 

“Be careful, and call me when you need me,” Rhys implored, already cursing himself for agreeing to this plan. “Promise me.”

“I promise,” you said, purposeful, determined.

And with that, you were off, shutting the car door with force. 

Rhys watched you go, worry now mixing with guilt. By trying to protect you from one situation, he was now the sole reason you were diving head-first into unknown danger all by yourself.

Although, you would have gone either way. No matter the circumstances. You were just like him in that respect. Once you’d made up your mind, there was nothing anyone could do to dissuade you. Rhys had to let you go. Leaving you the space to deal with problems the way you saw fit. He didn’t like it, but if he wanted to keep you by his side, there was no other choice. 

As far as he was aware, your mother wasn’t a cold-blooded killer. But even so, she’d come pretty close to manslaughter with the Hackney house fire. Rhys also knew for a fact that you hadn’t yet told him about all of the harrowing things you’d endured during your childhood. Some details, yes. But definitely not all. He hadn’t wanted to push you too hard, you would tell him when you were ready. Just like with everything else. 

Rhys shook himself. Dwelling on this wasn’t going to do him much good either. He had his own headache to deal with. After that, he would work to make things right with you.

He pressed a button, lowering the glass divider. “Change of plans. I need you to take me to South Kensington.”

—

An hour later, after trudging through London’s busy traffic, the car parked in front of Kynance Mews. The driver hastened to open his door, and Rhys slid out, glancing left and right. 

“Give me twenty minutes,” he said, adjusting his suit.

“Yes, sir.”

The ride over had given him plenty of time to consider his options, which in the end boiled down to two simple objectives: kill Jonathan, or not. 

As tempting as the first option was, Rhys had to accept that it wasn’t the most prudent one. Now that Lockwood’s disappearance had become a public affair, and the police were conducting their own investigation, there would be a lot of heat bearing down on the case. Sooner or later, the police would find out about the bribe money, and once they’d successfully trace the money and start making connections, ‘Professor Jonathan Moore’ would be the subject of a lot of scrutiny. 

Like with Atkinson, the risk would be too great. If either of those two were killed right now, people would surely start asking questions. Questions Rhys didn’t want to be asked. 

Therefore, with a tinge of annoyance, he opted that the best course of action was to keep the professor alive a little longer. 

However, Jonathan couldn’t continue on like this. He had to be reined in—reminded of who was in control here. Good thing Rhys had one more trick up his sleeve, and now was the time to use it.

He made his way inside the building, taking the stairs two at a time, determination edged in his pace. Once he made it to number ten, he lifted his fist, landing a series of powerful knocks on Jonathan’s front door. He didn’t have to wait long before it swung open. 

Rhys bursted into the flat, the door nearly hitting Jonathan in the face. 

“You’ve been busy, mate.”

Jonathan recovered quickly. “So have you.”

His dark eyes tracked Rhys as he strode around the flat, making sure there were no unwanted third parties present. Once he made sure there wasn’t, he stopped in front of Jonathan, meeting his gaze.

Rhys took a breath and nodded. “Tell me about it. It’s hard work, winning these elections—making sure all possible threats are dealt with accordingly.”

Jonathan looked him up and down, measured. “Is that why you’re here?”

“Among other things... I was starting to miss our fun little chats.”

“I wasn’t,” the professor sneered.

“Oh, pray tell,” Rhys said, light.

Jonathan appeared calm, but the tightness around his eyes told Rhys all he needed to know. A single, disdainful head-tilt cinched it.

So, this would be fun.

“You’re a cold-blooded psycho.” 

His mouth twitched. “Ah, one that needs to be taken down? Is that why you tipped the press?” 

“I’m done with your bullshit and your fucking mindgames,” he hissed. “And I’m not going down for your sins whilst you become mayor of this godforsaken town.”

“And yet here you are,” Rhys snickered, waving a hand at him. “Digging your own grave. Or did you forget that Joe Goldberg helped cover-up Lockwood’s murder?”

“I’ll tell them the truth about you,” Jonathan promised. “You’re not getting away with this.”

“And who do you think they’ll believe?” Rhys returned, tilting his head, a challenge. “A suspected murderer who faked his own death, or the man that’s working tirelessly to strengthen their police force—making sure their kids will have access to a higher education, someone who’s battling corruption and fighting for what’s right. You tell me.”

Jonathan shook his head. “No… No, you will go down for your crimes.”

Rhys couldn’t help but laugh. “And what crimes are those? Do you have any proof? Or will this be another case of your word against mine?” he taunted, stepping up to the fuming American.

Jonathan stood rigid, frowning in contemplation. He took a moment to mull over whatever thoughts held him before he looked at Rhys askance. 

“There has to be proof. People always seem to mysteriously disappear or die around you. Like last night.”

Rhys remained entirely unfazed. “That Fernsby bloke, you mean? Well, if you’d listened to the news, you would know he died of natural causes. Very unfortunate but it happens,” he said, inscrutable, picking a piece of lint off of his suit. “Besides, I have an alibi.”

“Of course you do,” Jonathan mumbled, more to himself. “Your girlfriend?”

Anger simmered under Rhys’ cool facade at the mention. But he couldn’t let Jonathan see it. 

“She serves many purposes,” he smirked, lewd.

Jonathan’s face twisted in disgust. “You’re using her.”

He shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “It’s all she’s good for anyway. A pretty face for the cameras, and an excellent shag at night.”

Jonathan looked away, uncomfortable despite his own nature. He took a beat, his eyes locked in an endless stare, seeing seemingly nothing. Then he blinked, once, and looked up to Rhys again. 

Something in his eyes had changed. Like he’d made up his mind about something. Rhys couldn’t tell what it was, but it didn’t sit well with him, at all. That much was clear.

His smile faded, it was time to get down to business.

“Alright,” he exclaimed, delightfully startling Jonathan in the process. “Enough chit-chat. I think it’s about time I remind you of a few things…”

Jonathan stiffened, but didn’t respond. Rhys sauntered over to the window, the one providing a perfect view into the flat of one Miss Kate Galvin. The flat was dark, and it didn’t look like anyone was home.

“Do you know where she is?” Rhys asked, peering through the window.

He didn’t need to specify who he was referring to. Not to a seasoned stalker like him.

“At work,” Jonathan said, clipped. 

Rhys glanced back over his shoulder, clocking Jonathan still standing in the exact same spot, shooting daggers at his back. Rhys’ lips curled. 

“Remember this feeling, Jonathan,” he said as he zeroed in on the fireplace, bending to pick up the fire iron. “Remember how it feels to know where she is. To know she’s safe…”

He twisted the metal object leisurely, feeling the weight of it in his palms. “But above all, remember how I can take all of that away, in the blink of an eye.”

If possible, Jonathan stiffened even more, nails digging into his palms as he clenched his fists. 

Rhys’ eyes sparked with amusement. Jonathan hadn’t wanted to play any more of his ‘mindgames’, but unfortunately for the professor, he was only just getting started.

“Now, we wouldn’t want her to meet the same fate as her father, would we?” Rhys mused, using the metal tool to prod at some charcoal remains. “Because speaking of unfortunate things, I’d say that would definitely qualify as such.”

Jonathan glared at him, not even attempting to cover the hatred he felt for the man daring to enter his home like he owned the place—and threaten him, his girlfriend, and everything he had tried to rebuild for himself. 

“Stay away from her,” he said, voice as cold as ice.

“Come now, Jonathan. There’s no need to get snippy,” Rhys tutted, eyes flicking to him. “You and I both know that whatever happens to her, it’s entirely up to you.”

The sound of metal scraping against the fireplace's stone surface caught Jonathan’s attention, his eyes flying to where Rhys was still playing around with the rod. He relished the look on Jonathan’s face, a sweet mixture of trepidation and rage. It meant he was listening carefully. 

“Fun fact about fire,” Rhys went on, off-kilter. “Which, correct me if I’m wrong, I believe you may be familiar with,” he added jokingly, stabbing at a larger fragment of unburned wood. 

“Nothing ever truly vanishes. There’s always something that remains. And what’s so amusing about this fact is that you never know which pieces are left behind… or when they might resurface.”

This was it. The last card Rhys could play to keep Jonathan silent—short from killing him, ofcourse. 

To threaten him to complete the framejob by planting Lockwood’s other hand that you and Rhys had kept as a backup, and call in the cavalry. Physical evidence tying Jonathan to the crime, in combination with the paper trail already set up in his name, would ensure Jonathan’s arrest and indictment. And he knew it.

Jonathan swallowed. “Lockwood?”

Rhys walked up to him, eyeing him steadily. “You better stick to our first agreement, and keep quiet,” he warned, tapping the fire iron against Jonathan’s chest. “Otherwise, I’ll make sure you’re going down for all of it.”

Defeat flashed over Jonathan’s face. He was still angry, no, livid would be the better term… But the growing apprehension and doubt was unmistakable.

Satisfied that his message was received loud and clear, Rhys dropped the metal rod to the floor. The loud clang of the object hitting the wooden floor caused Jonathan to flinch back, much to Rhys’ pleasure.

He turned his back on the American, gleefully making his way towards the front door where he paused, resting one hand on the handle, the corner of his mouth lifting.

“It’s all about who holds the power, mate,” Rhys smirked, looking back to Jonathan, whose jaw was clenched tight. “And at present, that isn’t you.”

–––– 

A/N: FINALLY a Joe and Rhys meet… I know it’s been a long time coming 🙈 I had a lot of fun writing this particular scene, I hope you enjoyed it as well. Now let’s see if Jonathan will heed Rhys’ warning or… not. hehe

––

Tags: @artaxerxesthegreat

[soraviie]

spending holidays together.txt

━ type: bts x gn! reader  ━ masterlist

━ about: fluff, some angst if you squint  ━  pictures taken from Pinterest

━ a/n: I tried to make this as vague as possible but obviously coming from a country and a family that celebrate Christmas, I was a little bit biased, either way however you celebrate this time or if you're just chilling, I hope you can enjoy this little reaction regardless. Also, there might be a little continuity from previous reactions for some boys

━ previously posted on soraviii

NAMJOON: “Monie! Come here, boy! Monie!” 

Seeing only the rushing colours of the uncaring crowd, you waddled to the side and began to weep uncontrollably. Monie will get lost and die, and Namjoon will hate you forever. This was your first holiday together and you couldn’t even do this one simple thing.

And perhaps, yes, it was the three cups of Svarak talking which you’d drunk while wandering the Christmas market in Prague and perhaps yes, it was the horrid jetlag clouding your emotional state to the point where light inebriation was the least of your worries. Oh, why did you pressure Namjoon into bringing Monie abroad? Who brings a dog to a romantic getaway abroad anyway?

“He’ll get lonely,” you whined, placing your palms against Namjoon’s chest as you adjusted yourself in his lap. 

“He doesn’t understand that emotion,” Namjoon had snided, hands reaching up to grab your hips. “Or any emotion for that matter.”

“Dogs can feel emotions!” you pouted in the poor thing’s defence whilst Namjoon brushed his thumb over your lower lip. 

“I know, baby,” he affirmed. “I’m just saying he specifically doesn’t have them.”

“You’re so mean.”

Well, this idiot of course. Maybe you should have been meaner too, maybe then Monie wouldn’t think it as funny to rip away from his leash and go running off in between vendors selling gingerbread cookies and hot wine. And now be lost forever. 

“Baby?” 

Seeing Namjoon, trying to hold onto the thousands of gift bags to send home, running towards you, only made you weep all the harder, snot falling onto your jacket. 

Tossing the paper bag into the slushed snow, Namjoon took a hold of your face and fretted, like he always did, a million miles per second. 

“Are you hurt? Are you in pain? Did someone hurt you? Are your bones broken?!”

“You’re going to hate me!” you cried, earning nothing but a confused frown and prolonged worrying. 

“Why would I hate my baby?” he cooed but you fervently shook your head, evading his kiss. 

“I lost Monie! I-I lost him and they’re gonna sell him, Namjoon! Oh god, they’re gonna sell him to some mean kids as a holiday present who are going to pull on his tail and ears! Oh, God, what have I d-done?!”

“You mean this Monie?” Namjoon asked with a smile as he stepped aside and lo' and behold without the slightest hint of shame in the eye stood a white dog, his leash stretching to tie around Namjoon’s wrist. 

“Oh my God, you bastard!”

The little dog was rather displeased by the callous and unrefined way of your hugging but you paid it no attention. 

“I found him some five minutes ago,” Namjoon explained, more than a little bewildered at your outburst. “Trying to steal some poor guy’s chicken kebab.”

“And all the trip you fondled him more than me. I was but a decoration.”

“Okay, I get it.

“I mean, I bring my wonderful partner halfway across the world to the top 1 spot to celebrate winter holidays in Europe and what do I get? Nothing. They spend the entire time not admiring the splendour of a city with more than a thousand years under the belt, no, they spend that time buying dog treats.”

“Would you shut up?” you pressed a palm against Namjoon’s mouth, feeling the vibrations of his laughter against your skin. “It was our first holiday together, sorry for being emotional about failing you.”

“You could never fail me baby,” he muttered softly, taking your hand away. “Happy holidays. May we spent fifty more together.”

With a kiss against your temples, Namjoon tucked your legs closer into his lap. His apartment might not be a city with a thousand years under its belt and perhaps it did not smell of hot wine, but it was warm and comfortable, standing strong against the harsh weather of this year's winter and you were perfectly content on spending the holidays quietly in your lonesome. Either way just like he did in Prague, Monie slept the night away, only waking when needing to beg for some food.

YOONGI: “So which one is yours?”

And because it made sense, your mother removed her glasses, squinting at the TV. 

“The second one on the left.”

“What, broad shoulders with a nice smile?”

“No, mom, that’s Jin! I’m with Yoongi.”

“Is it the little one?”

After a partially amused albeit exhausted sigh, you affirmed. 

“Yes, it’s the little one.”

“He looks…nice.”

“He is nice,” you smiled softly to yourself. The broadcast ended and Yoongi’s face was replaced by a soft strumming of generic winter music. Looking out the window with a tangerine twirling between your fingers, you hoped he was at least warm somewhere in Seoul, warm and resting. As it was yesterday and as it will be tomorrow, there was a sunken pang that came when thinking of Yoongi. In times like these you wished nothing more for him to be normal, or at least a little less remarkable, for it to be ordinary enough to sit here with you, awkwardly nodding to whatever your mother said, holding your hand in his and gorging on these tangerines that you subconsciously bought for him. 

But well…life was what it was and you had to accept him. All of him. 

A ring at the door. 

“Oh!” your mother jumped, startled by the jarring sound perturbing the otherwise mellow evening. “It’s probably those damn singers!” she cursed, rolling up the newspaper as if a bunch of mitten-cladded carolers could be thwacked on the nose like a misbehaving dog. 

“I’ll get it,” you sprang to your feet, rushing to the door. “Hey, listen,” you yelled at the ringing stranger, battling with the rusty lock. “This is not a festive house so don’t expect any - oh.”

“Oh,” Yoongi echoed softly. His might be freezing red, along with his nose and his hat was perhaps so big it seemed to envelop his head as a whole, and he just might be covered in snow from head to toe as though he’d tripped and dove face down into a big pile, but to you, he was nothing but a vision. 

“Happy holidays,” he whispered and stretched out a small parcel towards you which you clutched, head pounding away thoroughly dazed. 

“You don’t even celebrate,” you muttered but Yoongi only shrugged. 

“I’m here to celebrate you, nothing mo - wow!”

Wrapping your arms tightly around his neck you began to truly ponder if wishes could indeed come true in this harsh and unfair world as someone liked to say. 

“You’re choking me here, lil’ heater,” Yoongi gasped for air but you didn’t listen, smelling in his faint cologne and breathing a heavy exhale of relief. 

“Deal with it.”

He hummed lowly, with one palm reaching to pat your back. It might have been freezing but you didn’t even notice. Unbeknownst to you neither did he. 

JIN: “It’s fine, Jin.”

Nervously, he exhaled, still twiddling with the reindeer print of his singing tie in the front seat of the car.

“I need to be perfect,” he muttered, peering through the dark at your childhood home standing in the distance like a menacing shadow of an oppressive rock face. One he had chosen to smash his head against this night. 

“You don’t need to be,” softly, you denied, kissing his cheek. Even with the ring on both of your fingers, he blushed. “But you still are. Don’t worry. As heinous as you are, you're an angel compared to my relatives.”

Because of the panic-filled tremor running up his spine it took a whole two minutes for Jin to truly register your words, during which you’d already climbed out the car, taken the largest bulk of presents in your arm and knocked on the door, fully awaiting to be greeted warmly back home for the holidays. 

“Heinous?” Jin muttered absent-mindedly before shaking himself out whatever terrible spell besieged him. It wasn’t your mother he was so afraid of - 

“Oh, Seokjinnie! How’s my favourite son-in-law doing?!”

No, it definitely wasn’t your mother, though he would appreciate she’d pinch his cheeks just a tad less. 

“So, you’re the fiance that they divorced once already.”

It was your judgmental aunts that had him sweating in consecutive nightmares for many months now. 

“Auntie A, please, let’s be civil,” you pushed yourself in front of the slowly brewing conflict. “Not on the holidays.”

“So, Seokjin, we wanted for you to be more included so we…tried to make some of your home foods.”

Jin didn’t know much of this nice woman who spoke kindly to him. She might be your second cousin twice removed on your father’s side, or your aunt thrice removed on your mother’s side… Either way, the spread on the table indeed looked far more eccentric than he was used to. And ever since you’d entered his life, it had been nothing but eccentric.

With bated breaths, the nice lady and your mom waited for his approval and cringing inside, he gave a hollow, polite smile. 

“I like it,” he vomited a bit in his mouth. 

As soft music travelled from downstairs, muffled multicolour of lights glimmered from the small window of your bedroom behind which stretched vast slopes of snow covered by dark. 

“What are they talking about?” Jin whispered, stroking your hair as you laid on top of him. Usually, he’d never liked it but you’d been more of his firsts than he’d ever thought. He could hear just the end of the conversation but the drunken drawl made the words nearly incoherent. 

“About how much they love you,” you muttered in reply, tracing absent-minded patterns on his chest. 

“Liar, liar, ugly pants on fire.”

“Hey, these pants are not ugly,” you whined and Jin hummed. “And I wouldn’t lie. Not on this season of goodwill.”

“Good will, my ass, are you not grinding against my crotch?”

HOSEOK: “Would you sit still?” 

“Sorry, my nose was just itching.”

“Well, do you want it green?” 

“No, ma’am.”

You smirked slightly before focusing back on the work at hand. Or should you say on the hand. 

Hoseok really shouldn’t be looking this good in nail polish. Especially how immediately much you wanted these fingers up in your…Well, either way the polish would be destroyed then. 

With the lights twinkling in the background and the fireplace burning, the night was swimming away into the late night with gracious, almost lulling ease. And while you drew the golden stars one by one, there might still be that treacherous minuscule pang of discontent in the lower pits of your heart, but you pushed it away. Ironically, the first night you painted matching nails it was a time much like this - winter holidays, here in snow-dusted Seoul. 

“Just say you’re disappointed,” he had sighed. 

“And what would that change?” you mumbled grimly, focusing on dragging the brush with near perfection, coating the nail slowly in all black. 

Hoseok didn’t say anything, only drew yet another heavy sigh, before laying his head in your lap. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. You knew this would happen - no couple shirts, no photos, nothing shared in public, nothing to ever prove that this, whatever that even entailed, was real. You knew all that but if only knowing would hurt the hollow ache taking root. You felt the weight of his stare but rather than confronting it you decided to be a coward and focus solely on painting your nails. Because that’s what mattered when the love of your life had to tuck you away in his home like a dirty sock otherwise you’ll be harassed until mental breakdown. You knew he carried that ceaseless guilt all around, so much so, that even his ever-present smile was cracking at the seams like vinyl in a cold room. 

“Maybe you can paint my nails?”

That at last had you glancing sparsely towards his side.

“You mean…like matching designs?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged, the tone sounding completely casual. Almost too casual. “I don’t mind painting my nails and…

“And I’ve never stopped wanting to have a little bit of you with me everywhere.”

“As cute as it is, I think Baloo just farted.”

Hoseok threw a heavy glare towards your old, over-fattened Grinch of a Birman only to have it returned back tenfold. 

“He hates me.”

“Just a bit. All done.”

Blowing on his nails, Hoseok glimpsed outside and you watched as his stare turned wistful, seeing the many rows of families, friends and couples all enjoying outside, trading easy laughter and intoxicated cheer. 

“You don’t regret it, do you?” he muttered, almost incoherently. “Being with me?”

You brushed a hand over his knuckles with a sad smile. 

“Our family might be small and our home might be a little quiet but it’s a good one. I don’t need anything else.”

For a second, Hoseok almost appeared stunned before his eyes softened in the glimmering lights and he brushed his forehead against yours. 

“Happy holidays, baby.”

JIMIN: As the years began to pile up, more and more you began to understand the unceasing back pain all adults seemed to complain about and even more so the sentiment behind Grinch standing on a hilltop and yelling down upon the entire city “I HATE YOU!” The hatred for you came shockingly easy, hey, maybe you were just a bad person but what was not easy was to remember that you’d lost your best friend and the man of your dreams all in one well-coordinated swoop.

Forever didn’t seem so stable when it could be killed by a few petty, anger-driven words. The only forever would be the ceaseless taunting.

If only you would have spoken more; if only he would have listened more. If only you had been brave enough to finally tell your best friend you loved him. If only you were just bold enough to believe that his jealousy was out of fear and not some chauvinistic sign of unspoken ownership. If only you’d have the guts to crawl back and apologise. If only…

If only you’d crashed into him harder and cracked your own skull in the process. Then you wouldn’t have to be standing here, in the middle of a snowing open-air ice rink, with children skating amok, evading the pleads of their exhausted parents; you wouldn’t have to be standing here looking at the stupid face of stupidly endearing Park Jimin, of his stupid red eyes that hinted at not so long before finished crying session, of his stupid mismatched hair, growing dark in the roots and still blond at the tips and most of all you wouldn’t have to be feeling the unmistakable sensation of sheer joy as you were faced with someone whom in anger you swore to hate forever. 

Guess that forever didn’t last either. 

His hands, red and roughened from the cold, shuttered to a halt, previously occupied with dusting off your coat as he’d bumped into you on the ice, hurtling you painfully through the air.

He wet his dry lips and gently ghosted those dry-ass hands of his over your elbows, wanting to trap you? Hug you?

Either way, you were pissed and the crowd as it turned could be extremely lonely. Snowflakes fell in large clumps from the blackened sky, behind which sprawled the infinite Cosmos. Infinite Cosmos! With planets and galaxies and universes beyond your comprehension so why? Why, oh why, did this man hold so much power over you?! 

“Don’t come near me,” you growled. “I don’t want to forgive you!”

Jimin being an obnoxious, catty bastard of an angel leaned into your face, so close you could feel the warmth of his breath on your nose, his own expression marred with sheer spite. 

“So I’m forgiven now?”

There were many things to hate about Jimin. How he made your heart quicken and how well he was aware of that fact. The cocky smile he wore as your face hued in unflattering shades of red. You hated how sad he looked when he was down and how it made you want to ruin the entire world for ever daring to upset him. You were supposed to be unflappable, unapproachable and yet slyly like a creeping cat he had pushed past all those finely built walls to make a home in your heart. 

“I’m angry at you!” you curled up your fists only to receive a harsh scowl in return. 

“I’m angry at you as well!” Then he smirked because, despite all your talk when his arm wrapped around your waist, you made no effort to remove it. 

“Stop doing that!”

“Oh, I’m sorry that my face makes expressions,” he rolled his eyes, pushing you closer.

Ask anyone and they’ll tell you that winter lights were pretty but they were cold, much like the sun at certain longitudes of the Earth, but currently, you couldn’t possibly get any warmer. Your back was positively sweltering acutely aware of his stable touch and the fine line you so inappropriately were skating on. Friends. Not lovers. Friends. Just friends. Not even friends now, ex-friends! Strangers! But the way he was holding you was of no strangers. Of no friends. 

Standing here in this stupid, overpriced ice rink with its stupid golden lights, you felt yourself falter, succumbing to weakness. It was all his fault! So why could you not stop the smile blossoming upon your lips?!

“Park Jimin,” you shoved an accusing finger into his chest that definitely hadn’t been getting more toned as of late. “Will you hold yourself responsible when I experience emotional malfunction?”

“Do you mean feelings?” he clarified, eyebrows wrinkling in confusion. “Because if you do, I've been experiencing emotional malfunction for a long time already. I’m the victim here!”

“And what do you want me to do about it?” 

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, but you knew that glint in the eye that had nothing to do with the glimmer of the decorations.  “Kiss it better why don’t you.’Tis the season of kisses.”

“It’s not.”

“It is now,” he growled and pushed his lips upon yours.

TAEHYUNG: Honestly, of all the crazy moments within the last year, it was this one that made you fully grasp just how wild one’s life could get. Here you were on this shaking metal box, after much snivelling and snarling to get a little piece of paper, cramped in between two sweaty dudes and travelling hundreds of miles per hour just to see someone’s son. Embarrassing. And yet you were trembling inside.

Catching a taxi, you tried not to get overwhelmed by the bustling of this foreign city and instead focused on perfecting the tied ribbon, praising the heavens that it didn’t get too smushed in your carry-on luggage. Your family were more than a little concerned and more than greatly disheartened by you skipping away across the world on winter holidays of all time but anyone with eyes could see - your heart was already long gone to that stranger in your phone.

Naturally, you didn’t enjoy seeing Taehyung so glum but the miserable reply of “Doubt so” to your misleading little “Happy Holidays, dear!” did grant you a bit of selfish cheer. He was missing you.

As the decorated trees and many overrun shops breezed past the car windows, you smiled to yourself, nuzzling into the red scarf he’d gifted you. Though when the time came to rap at his door, after getting through the apartment security, you found a sudden knot forming in your throat. What if he didn’t want you to see you? The plans after all had been seemingly set in stone - you return back home and spend the time there. What if he’d been preparing to go out with friends? What if he wasn’t even home? You’d look even more foolish after going through all this trouble. 

Shaking off the nerves, you gathered yourself and knocked before the sliver of cowardice could nestle once again. You could hear Tannie bark on the other side which was a rather good indication he was home and just a second after were elatedly greeted by the sound of slippers shuffling across the floor. You threw a wink at the camera showing his doorstep, barely having the time to jump out of the way when light speed they were thrust into your face. 

“You might get stuck that way,” you teased as Taehyung stood in the doorway, floundering for air like fish out of the water. 

“I thought you were going home for holidays.”

“Well, I couldn’t leave you all alone,” you shrugged. “Don’t say that you’re not - oof!” 

With the gentleness of a raging rhinoceros, Taehyung yanked you into his arms, swaying around as though he was hearing his favourite song. 

“You didn’t even look at your present,” laying on the bed next to him, you pointed at the still-wrapped gift perched on the nearby bedside table. With an elbow braced against his head, he didn’t even glimpse at the gift or attempted to deny the accusations. 

“I will tomorrow,” he promised quietly and you hummed, twirling the button of his loose cardigan that truthfully sat too low on his chest for your mental well being. 

“I’m sorry this probably wasn’t the best winter holiday -”

“It is,” he interrupted without blinking, tone gaining such a lilt of fierceness, you raised your head in astoundment. 

“Did your wish come true or something?”

“Yes, it did,” he answered simply. 

JUNGKOOK: Perching the laundry basket on your hip, you tilted your head to the side, curiously inspecting the green thing attached to the ceiling. You knew Jungkook had his fair share of quirks but putting herbs in the doorway… Shaking your head, you gave a resigned sigh and decided to leave your boyfriend be. But the green thing seemed to haunt you like the world’s shittiest ghost. It wasn’t enough for it to be shoved in a random corner of Jungkook’s own home but soon it invaded yours as well. Waking up, with one cheek pressed against his chest, you shook Jungkook awake, pointing concernedly at the vegetable hovering on the lamp above your head. 

“What is that for?” you inquired, confused but he merely smirked, wagging his eyebrows in nothing but the most annoying fashion.

“Why don’t you tell me?” 

“How would I know?” you grumbled, kicking a leg out of the covers, missing the affronted look Jungkook threw your way, when you missed his puckered up lips. 

As the month dragged on, you grew increasingly perplexed at how Jungkook’s green celery seemed to simply appear wherever your eyes strayed to. You were growing half convinced he had these things half a dozen shoved down his pants. 

“Yes, mom, I got the correct size,” you defended, trying to spot Jungkook’s car in the underground car park of the hellsite that was a shopping centre during the holiday rush. A black car…in a shopping parking lot...like looking for a needle in a stack of needles. Finally, seeing the correct licence plate, you drew a heavy sigh of relief.

“I’ve got to go, talk to you later!”

Upon getting in, you threw the many bags in the backseat, ready to yap Jungkook’s ears off with some overdue complaining only to fall promptly silent when seeing that piece of kale hanging from the car mirror. 

“Ehm…I don’t think it’s an air freshener, Koo,” you gently informed him and he scoffed, lips jutting out in a deeply offended pout. 

“What did I do?” you whined, receiving a dirty glare as an answer. 

“Do you hate me or something?” he glowered after turning his head to the other side and laying his chin on the steering wheel. 

“Why would you say that?”

“You’ve not given me any kisses,” he pointed glumly at his spinach.

“Why would…why would a bundle of herbs equal kisses?” you frowned, failing to see his logic. It wasn’t like it was rare but you’ve never been this confused, especially given how resentful he appeared. 

“Herbs-?” then all of a sudden he broke out in roaring laughter, startling you immediately. Clutching at his stomach, Jungkook threw his head against the seat. “Oh my god, I’m in love with a dummy.”

“Don’t call me a dummy!” you insisted. “Explain why artichoke equals kisses?”

Whatever you said set him off even further and loudly clapping, it would seem Jungkook would commit suicide by choking himself with laughter. 

“ᵃʳᵗᶦᶜʰᵒᵏᵉ,” he gasped, tears streaming down his cheeks and blissfully ignoring your budding irritation. 

“Fucking Elmo laughing ass,” you groused, turning up your nose and hissing when Jungkook pressed a wet kiss against your cheek.  

© soraviii/soraviie 2022-2023

[aeide-thea]

beautiful & also terrible to have the sort of brain where you find yrself at 4:30 AM looking up intersections between jewishness & arthuriana. like. fucking amazing rabbit hole but. why am i not asleep. my head hurts and my eyes are sandy.

however. some cool things (that probably some of you knew abt already, but i did not!):

King Artus – "a 'Hebrew Arthurian Romance of 1279… Judaized and transformed.' […] Although the story in 'King Artus' is fairly straightforwardly Arthur’s as we know it today, there are little touches that tie it to Jewish literature. When, for example, Arthur’s mother, the Duchess, learns that her husband is dead and she has been deceived by the shape-shifting Uther Pendragon, she tries to figure out how that could be possible. 'No sooner had he gone more than a bow-shot’s distance away from the castle than the messenger came straight to my chamber.' That bow-shot’s distance comes not from Arthurian legend but from the story of Hagar, who sits a bow-shot’s distance away from her son Ishmael when Abraham casts them out and she does not want to see her son die."

Bovo-Bukh – "a chivalric romance adapted in 1507 by Elye Bokher (Elijah Baḥur *Levita) into 650 ottava rima stanzas in Yiddish from a Tuscan version (Buovo d'Antona) of the early 14th-century Anglo-Norman original, Boeuve de Haumton. This tale of the heroic adventures of the noble Bovo, exiled from his homeland by the machinations of his murderous mother, his wanderings through the world (as far as Babylon), and the love story of Bovo and Druzyana, their separation, his triumphant return home, and the final reunion with Druzyana and their two sons, proved to be one of the most beloved tales in the Yiddish literary tradition over the course of more than two centuries."

Vidvilt – "anonymous 15th–16th-century Yiddish epic. This Arthurian romance of the chivalric adventures of Sir Vidvilt (and his father Gawain), based on Wirnt von Gravenberg's 13th-century Middle High German Wigalois, proved to be one of the most enduringly popular secular narratives in Yiddish literary history, with numerous manuscript recensions, printings (the first in an extensively expanded version by Joseph b. Alexander Witzenhausen, Amsterdam 1671), and reprintings, in rhymed couplets, ottava rima (Prague 1671–79), and prose, over the course of three and a half centuries. The anonymous poet of the earliest Yiddish version composed more than 2,100 rhymed couplets (probably in northern Italy), following Wirnt's plot rather closely through the first three-quarters of the narrative (abbreviating much and generally eliminating specific Christian reference), before offering quite a different conclusion."

Sir Gabein – "from 1788-89, a tale in which the Arthurian knight Gabein does not return to Camelot but – via Russia and Sardinia – reaches China and ultimately ascends to the Chinese imperial throne as the new emperor." slow blink.

also this is getting beyond arthuriana into just epic poetry generally but. literally all of this sounds fascinating.

anyway. literary scholar manqué.e hrs as always here at k dot tumblr dot edu obviously! however. my ear is open like a greedy shark, &c.

[heavyhitterheaux]

The Marriage Pact Part 3

For Better of For Worse (Slight NSFW)

Read Part 1 and Part 2 first

Synopsis: Urban urges for Jack to tell you a secret that he's been holding onto, but of course someone else tells you before he does and all hell breaks loose

Pairing: Fiancé!Jack Harlow x Fianceé!Reader

Series Masterlist

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Jack had now been on tour for two months and it was around 12 am when all of you were on the plane heading to Prague. Jack and Urban were the only ones awake as you were currently laying on Jack's chest on the couch that was perched in the back of the plane. He was currently scrolling through his phone looking for a necklace that he wanted to buy you since he noticed that you had been eyeing similar ones when Urban came and sat across from him and simply looked at him before saying anything.

"Did you tell her yet?" Urban asked and Jack looked over at him with wide eyes and gestured to you sleeping on his chest.

"Cut the shit. She's sleeping so I know she can't hear us." Urban said in response as he rolled his eyes.

"To answer your question, no I haven't told her."

"Are you? Are you fucking serious? The two of you have been engaged for almost five months! Don't you think that's important to let your future wife know!?"

"Of course I think it's important! I just… didn't think she would actually say yes when I proposed to her."

"You still should have had a plan in place! Like come on, did you really think she was going to tell you no? It's Y/N we're talking about."

"I know, I know! I'll tell her soon."

"You need to tell her like today when we land. She's probably going to be so pissed at you. No not probably, she definitely will."

"I just…. We're in a good place right now and I don't want to do anything to mess that up."

"You not being honest with her is messing it up. Now what if she suddenly decides to go public with it? Then what? And once again did you forget about your future wife being your manager? She could make this go away with the snap of her finger since it's not true. You haven’t seen her since last year, right?"

Jack didn't say anything in response and Urban simply hung his head.

"Sooo since you're quiet there's a possibility that it could be true!? What the actual fuck?"

"I saw her a week before I proposed."

"You… you cannot be serious? And you fucked her knowing that you were going to propose!? What the hell is wrong with you!?" 

"And I haven't met up with her since. I completely cut her off."

"Yeah until she sent you that sonogram pic."

"It's not mine."

"And how do you know exactly? You fucked her didn't you?"

"But I used protection. I'm not stupid."

"I beg to differ. Y/N is going to kick your ass about this. That's why I was so concerned when you told me that you two made a marriage pact.. Ain't no way in hell she would have said yes if she knew this beforehand. All your one night stands are about to come out as soon as you announce that you’re engaged. It’s literally only a matter of time."

"Just don't tell her."

"It's not my place to tell her but you better prepare yourself before you do. We've all seen Y/N pissed and it's never been directed at you and now it will be."

All Jack did was look down at you sleeping on his chest and simply sighed.

How was he supposed to tell his soon to be wife that there was a chance he could have a kid on the way? Deep down, he knew it wasn’t his, but he also knew for a fact that you weren’t going to be satisfied until there was a negative DNA test put in front of you. 

And since he was now on tour, who knows how long it would be until he was able to get one. 

Her name was Gabrielle and Jack was floored when he first laid eyes on her. She wasn't anything compared to you, but for a one night stand she would have to do. He met her at one of his shows in Atlanta and they eventually went out on a date that was actually set up by you so Jack would be able to avoid paparazzi or anyone seeing him.

You met her and thought that she was a nice girl, and didn't think anything else of it. Jack had hooked up with her numerous times with the last time being a week before he proposed to you and the next day he told her that they couldn't see each other anymore. He thought that she took the news well because she didn't seem fazed by it. It wasn't until last week when he was with Urban and got a text from her saying that she was pregnant and that it could be his. His heart immediately jumped in his throat knowing that there was a good possibility that you would leave him once he told you, but at the same time it happened when the two of you weren't even together.

So he thought to himself that you couldn’t be but so mad at him.

On the other hand, since he knew you so well he knew that as soon as he told you that shit would hit the fan and this was about to be hard for him to wiggle out of.

His main thing was breaking your trust. He had told you once he had proposed to you that getting hurt in relationships would be a thing of the past, but the two of you didn’t even make it down the aisle yet and this was happening. 

He knew that he had to tell you and soon before you found out from someone else that wasn't him.

That was literally the last thing he wanted. 

"Before the day is over, you need to tell her."

“I don’t know if it’s that simple.”

“It won’t be because she’ll probably want to murder you. And I am all for letting her at you because what you did was fucking stupid. You know I always have your back, but right now you’re on your own. Oh, and you better hope that she doesn’t tell Ari.”

Jack had been on edge since all of you touched down in Prague and you couldn’t put your finger on as to why. He typically didn't keep anything from you and your plan was to get it out of him one way or another because you always did. Between you and Urban, he couldn’t keep anything from the two of you for very long. 

The two of you were currently in your hotel room resting before he had his show tonight when you cornered him as he was sitting near the window staring off into space. You could tell that he was upset no matter how hard he was trying to hide it. 

"Babe."

"Yes?"

"What's wrong?" You asked as you came over to him and started to play in his curls.

"I'm fine. Just a little tired, that's all." He replied while shrugging but you weren’t buying it. 

All you did was cross your arms and look down at him.

"How long have I known you?"

"My entire life."

"So don't you think I know when you're lying to me?"

"I promise that I'm fine and that you have no need to worry."

“Easier said than done. But I’ll let it slide for now. I’ll get it out of you sooner or later because I always do.” You answered while kissing his cheek and he smiled at you. 

"I love you more than anything and don't ever forget that." Jack quietly said and it left you wondering what he was getting at.

"I love you too and why would I ever forget it?"

"No reason, but just in case. No matter what happens your happiness is always going to be my priority."

"And the exact same goes for you. Did you want to sleep for a bit before your show and then we can get food after?" You asked and Jack quickly nodded his head.

"Will you lay down with me though?"

"Of course I will."

You got comfortable on the bed with Jack following suit and laying on your chest as you played in his hair in order to get him to fall asleep faster. 

About fifteen minutes had passed when you noticed that Jack’s breathing had slowed down so you took the opportunity to set an alarm on your phone and drift off too so that you would have energy for later. 

Jack's second show out of three was currently underway in Prague as you were watching from the side of the stage. You had always admired his confidence and was in awe every single time that he performed.

There was only about fifteen minutes left in his set when you heard him say something that caught you off guard.

"Hold on. I'm almost done, but I want to brag a little bit and for good reason. So, I finally got my shit together and did something that I wanted to do for years. Yall know my best friend Y/N who is also my manager? I mean Urb is my best friend too but this isn't about him and needs to wait his turn." Jack said while laughing and the crowd erupted in screams as you looked to Urban to see what was going on, but all he did was shrug his shoulders.

"She's been in my life literally since I was eight days old and has always been there for me and as we grew older, my love for her did also. So, what did I do? Buy her an engagement ring and held onto it for an entire damn year because I was scared that she was going to say no. But, I finally grew some balls five months ago on her birthday and asked her."

"Oh shit. I had no idea he was going to do this." Urban thought out loud and for good reason, because he knew something that you didn't.

"I didn't either, but is it really a bad thing?" You asked Urban as you turned towards him and all he gave you was a tight lipped smile. But however,  you didn't think anything of it

"Oh, I'm keeping you in suspense aren't I? Well she also decided that she wanted to wake up next to me for the rest of her life so come next year, I'm about to be a married man. I'm not asking her to come out here because she hates being the center of attention, but Y/N…" Jack said as he turned to look at you on the side of the stage as you stood next to Urban.

"I love you and thank you for saying yes for marrying me. You've made me the happiest man on earth."

You quickly mouthed the words 'I love you too.' Before you heard someone scream in the crowd.

"And it's about fucking time!"

"I know, I know and I agree!" Jack responded and laughed.

"But for now let me finish so I can go and love up on my future wife. I'm never going to get tired of saying that." 

By the time all of you got back to the hotel it was around one in the morning and Jack could tell that you were fighting to keep your eyes open seeing as you had to be up in about six hours. One thing that happened while Jack was touring was you not being able to get a lot of sleep. You embraced it however seeing as not many people got an opportunity like this and the last thing you wanted to do was take it for granted.

Once the both of you were in your shared hotel room, you slipped off your shoes along with your jewelry, except for your engagement ring and simply sat on the edge of the bed and stared at it for a few minutes before starting to play with it and twist it around your finger. Jack took notice of this and also how quiet you were being and was concerned that something was wrong.

“Umm, babe? You okay over there? Why are you just staring off into space like that?”

“I’m okay.”

“Wait, you’re not pissed at me right? Because of what I did earlier? I should have asked you before I did it but I figured that it’s almost been five months and….”

“Jack, calm yourself. I’m not mad. I swear that you always stress yourself out over the tiniest things.” You said while laughing as you took note of how much he had started freaking out. 

“Well I had to make sure, but you’re obviously thinking about something so what is it?”

You took a deep breath before answering him and you felt like it was the right time since you had been thinking long and hard about it since the night of your birthday when he proposed. 

“I’m ready.”

“Ready for what?” Jack answered you while looking at you with a confused look on his face. 

All you did was stare at him until it finally clicked.

“Oh…OH! Oh… are you… are you absolutely sure? Because the last thing I want to happen is for you to regret it.”

“Why would I regret it if it was with you?”

“I just want for you to be…”

You immediately cut him off and grabbed his hand as he sat down next to you.

“I am and I wouldn’t say anything to you until I was. That’s what you told me to do right?”

“Yes, but…”

“But what?”

“I don’t have any condoms with me because I thought that you were actually going to wait until we were married.”

“I’m on birth control so that isn’t a problem.”

“And you’re sure that you’re ready?”

All you did was nod in response and you loved how thoughtful and caring that he was.

“Shit, I told you that I was going to make this extra special, but now…”

“It’s going to be special because it’s you. End of.” 

All Jack did was smile at you before leaning over to kiss you as you felt your heart begin to flutter. Once he had broken apart from you, he motioned for you to move towards the top of the bed. When you were he simply went to hover over you as he leaned down to kiss you once more.

“And at any time you want me to stop, just tell me, okay?” Jack quietly said to you as he began to stroke your cheek. Once you nodded, he leaned down to kiss you again and slowly started to make his way down your neck and to your cleavage that was poking out of your dress. Jack didn’t say it to you out loud, but he had been eyeing you in your dress since the moment you put it on.

“May I?” Jack politely asked and as soon as you had given him the okay to do so, he slipped the dress from over top of your head and took in the sight before him as you didn’t wear a bra with it and only a black thong.

Jack then went back to placing kisses along your body and as he got lower, your heart rate then began to increase knowing what was about to happen.

He played with the band on the side of your thong before looking up at you and making sure that it was okay before going to slide it off. Once he did, he threw it across the room and simply peered down to look at you.

“You’re beautiful, baby. Inside and out. I’m about to get you ready for me, okay?”

“Okay.”

Jack then slowly inserted two of his fingers inside of you while kissing you at the same time. Feeling how wet you were only made his erection start to become painful seeing as he hadn’t been with anyone over the past five months and simply waited for you to be ready for him. 

“And now why am I the only one who doesn't have any clothes on?” You curiously asked as Jack smiled before he leaned up away from you and reached down to pull his shirt over his head to throw it in the same direction that he threw your dress in.

“Now, we can’t have that, can we?”

“No we definitely can’t.”

Jack then hopped off the bed in order to take off his jeans and boxer briefs along with them and you were amazed at the sight as Jack quickly began stroking himself. You could see the precum leaking from the tip, but your focus was on how he was going to fit.

Jack saw the look on your face and immediately knew what you had been thinking as soon as your eyes had gone wide.

“Yes, baby it’s going to fit. That’s what you’re thinking isn’t it?”

All you did was nod before answering him.

“But how?” You quietly asked not 100% believing him.

“I’m going to go slow and take my time, that’s how.” He answered as he once again got on top to hover over you.

“Now, are you ready?”

You simply nodded as Jack told you to spread your legs a little bit more in order to give him room.

When he first inserted himself into you, it felt weird and didn’t hurt, but once he began to move further, you felt that first sting.

“Shit.” You muttered as you tightly squeezed your eyes shut.

“It’s going to be uncomfortable for a minute, but if you want me to stop, all you have to do is tell me.”

“No, keep going.”

“Just a little bit longer, baby. I’m almost there.” Jack said as he began to kiss you to take your mind off of it.

Once he was, he stopped moving in order for you to breathe for a second since he could tell that you were in pain.

“Whenever you’re ready for me to move, let me know.” He said as he placed kisses all along your neck and down the valley of your breasts. Another minute or so has passed when you felt as if you were ready for him to continue.

“Okay, I’m good now.”

“Now let me show you how much I love you and how much you mean to me.” 

You woke up wrapped in Jack’s arms as he was lightly snoring in your ear and turned to your left so that you could get your phone and check for any messages that might have been sent to you after you fell asleep. It was around eight in the morning and you knew that you had a full day ahead of you and wanted to get an early start no matter how much you wanted to lay and stay in Jack’s arms.

Since Jack had announced your engagement last night at his show, the notifications had been flooding in, but there was a particular one that caught your eye. Your heart rate ended up increasing and you were trying to steady your breathing as you shook Jack awake. Because he needed to explain this and explain it now.

“Jack, get up.”

“Hmm, you want to go for another round? Give me five more minutes.”

“Jackman, NOW.”

“Okay, okay. Damn, so impatient this morning. I’ll eat you out for as long as you want so I can get rid of that attitude.” He replied while laughing as he turned to look at you and by the look that you were giving him, he knew that something was wrong.

“What’s…. Wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“So you’ve been lying to me?” You asked quietly while Jack was looking at you confused. 

“Baby, lying about what? What do I have to lie to you for?”

“Then who the fuck is Gabrielle and why is she saying that you are her baby daddy and tagging you in a sonogram picture of her baby?”

Jack then sat up and turned towards you and tried to take your hand, but you immediately snatched it away from him.

“Hold on, babe. I can explain.”

“Then start fucking explaining and this better be one hell of a good explanation in order for me to not kick your ass.”

“We hooked up a few times and I….”

“When was the last time you saw her?” You asked while wrapping the sheet around you and looking at him for an explanation. 

“Um…”

“Jackman, you better not lie to me because I will find out sooner or later and you know that I’m good for it so out with it.”

“A week before I proposed to you.”

You immediately looked away from Jack and simply peered down at your hands in your lap and didn’t bother to respond.

“But, I didn’t know if you were going to say yes or not! And….”

“So you had sex with her knowing that you were getting ready to propose to me without protection and want me to be okay with this? Did I get that right?”

“I wore protection and there is no way that the baby is mine, I promise. You have to believe me baby.”

“Well, didn’t you have sex with her?”

“Yes, but I wore protection like I said!”

“Condoms are only 99% effective so there is a chance that the baby could be yours and you had still been in communication with her so you knew about this shit and didn’t bother to tell me? Your best friend? Future wife? And your FUCKING MANAGER?”

“So, what was I supposed to say? Hey baby, I think I got a girl pregnant who I had a one night stand with?”

“Yes! That is literally exactly what you say! So you were about to just show up with a baby at our house one day and say this is my kid?!”

“For you to throw the ring at me and leave me? I…..”

“You know me better than that and I’ve put up with your shit for how long? The fiance in me might kick your ass and leave you, however manager me is going to try and save your career!”

“I’ll just get a DNA test and this can all go away.”

“Didn’t you make her sign an NDA then why the hell is she posting all of this?”

“Um…. about that….”

“HAVE I TAUGHT YOU NOTHING SINCE YOU’VE BEEN IN THIS INDUSTRY? WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK JACKMAN?!”

“I know it looks bad, but….”

“That’s putting it lightly! You take my virginity one night and the next day I learn that my future husband has been lying to me, possibly has a baby on the way, and also doesn’t get his one night stands to sign NDA’s so that they can embarrass me on social media!”

“Why are you making this about you?! It’s my career that could get tarnished over this! And we weren’t even together when I hooked up with her!"

“So, you obviously don’t care how this affects me? Got it. My last name is about to be Harlow in case you fucking forgot and your career? The career that I MANAGE in case you forgot about that part too. We might have not been together but you knew that you were going to propose to me so make it make sense!" 

“Okay, baby I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that but… I’m sorry for keeping this from you.”

“This is what has been bothering you since we landed isn’t it? And I gave you plenty of chances to tell me but you decided not to.”

“Because I didn’t know how you were going to react!”

“So, you let me find out by her tagging me and you in the sonogram pic on instagram? You could have told me this before you had sex with me. I just feel used and disgusted. I thought I knew you better than that but I guess not. The fact that you know that I always have your back and do anything for you but you decide to hide this from me? We're supposed to be a team, Jackman."

“I….”

“Do me a favor. Listen to me and listen to me good. I do not want to see you, hear your voice, or even be around someone that simply utters your name for the rest of the day while I try to do my best and be a good manager and fix the mess that you created because you wanted to get your dick wet. Get out and go to Urban's room.” 

“But, babe….”

You simply shook your head at him and made your way to the bathroom as you slammed the door behind you while locking it. 

Jack sighed and ran a hand through his curls as he could hear you start to cry in the bathroom not knowing how in the world he was about to fix this. He gathered all of his things while sliding on his sweatpants before making his way towards Urban’s room. He knocked a few times and Urban finally opened it while looking confused.

“Why are you over here?” He asked while moving to the side and letting him in and seeing that he had all of his bags with him.

“She found out through an instagram post and told me that she didn’t want to see me for the rest of the day.”

“About Gabrielle?”

“Yes.”

“I told you to tell her when we landed! Why did you wait so long in the first place?!”

“I… I don’t know.”

“How are you supposed to get out of this one? Because it is literally all over social media.” Urban said as he scrolled through his timeline on instagram. 

"The only thing I can think of is doing a DNA test but I'm not back in Atlanta for another two months."

"And you know good and damn well not to ask Y/N to fly her out here in order to get it or have you fly back just for a test."

"I broke her trust and I have no idea how to get her to forgive me."

"She probably wouldn't have been as mad at you if you had been the one to tell her and not social media."

"And not to mention she finds out after we had sex for the first time last night."

"This literally just keeps getting worse." Urban responded as he hung his head.

"But that's not the worst part."

"How!? How is it not?!" 

"Because that was her first time ever so she told me this morning that she felt used."

"You are such a dumbass. And I can see why she felt like that! You had literally been fucking Gabrielle up to the point where you proposed."

"I guess I'll just give her space but how is that even possible? She literally always has to be around me."

"You better get her a lot of expensive gifts in order for her to forgive you."

"I literally just bought her a car. And besides you know that isn't her thing. I'm better off actually making her something."

"Well get her a private jet next. Shit, I don't know. But if you make something that better be one hell of an arts and crafts project. That shit better be good enough to put in a museum. See I don't have these problems because I'm not a dumbass like you."

"I beg to differ, but okay."

Meanwhile, once you had gotten out of the shower and had gotten dressed, your phone alerted you to a text from Chris who was also Jack’s manager but taught you everything you knew in order to be able to handle things without him and be with Jack full time per Jack’s request.

Chris- Meet me in the lobby of the hotel and grab Jack

You- Is something wrong? Why are you even here?

Chris- I know you've seen it trending that's why I'm here

You- It literally broke less than 24 hours ago so you aren't even about to let me do my job?

Chris- Just meet me downstairs so we can talk

You rolled your eyes at his response and sent a quick text to Urban to tell Jack to meet you downstairs in the lobby. Once you got down there, you saw him conversing with Chris and a woman who you had never seen before. Once you reached them, Chris smiled at you.

"Y/N! Okay good everyone is here so we can go to the restaurant in the hotel to talk and Y/N this is Neelam and I'm bringing her on to manage Jack as well."

"Hi, it's nice to meet you." Neelam said, but you as well as Jack looked at Chris in disbelief.

"Uh, you too but um what? So you think I'm incapable of doing my job?" You questioned Chris as your arms were crossed.

"Y/N that isn't it at all. I know you can do your job well since I taught you everything that you know. I just figured you could use extra help since…."

"Since what?"

"Well since you two are now engaged, I don't want anything clouding your judgment as it relates to Jack’s career. I mean you two were close before, but now it's completely different."

"What does that even mean? My judgment has never been clouded before. His career is just as important to him as it is to me. I will always do what is best for him." You fired back and Chris simply sighed as Neelam was standing there awkwardly while Jack was scratching the back of his neck.

"Y/N, it's just to give you help."

Despite you not wanting to speak to him, you turned to Jack for an explanation.

"Did you know about this?"

"Me and Chris had talked about it, but I didn't…."

"So no one wants to be an adult and communicate around here? And tell me things that are going on? Okay, got it. Wonderful."

"Babe…." Jack started to say, but you simply held up your hand. 

"Y/N, just come on so we can talk about this. I didn't mean to blindside you, but I thought Jack had at least mentioned it."

"Clearly all of the talking was done without me so it can continue to be done without me. Why would he mention that when he didn't even mention the possible baby he has on the way? You know what? Yall can figure it out while I take a personal day."

Once you walked away from them, you went back up to your hotel room and simply sat on your bed and the tears that you were holding were starting to come down your face at a rapid speed all while Jack and Chris were blowing up your phone.

Future Hubby- Babe, please just come back down here so we can talk. I admit that it slipped my mind and I forgot to tell you. I did it to put less pressure on you so we can plan for our wedding. I know you’re pissed at me with good reason but please talk to me. 

Chris- Y/N, I'm only doing this because I want to help you. Please understand that.

All you did was place your phone on DND as you tried to even your breathing. The calls and texts were coming in left and right including from your parents, Ari, Urban just to name a few and you just needed a second to breathe.

About ten minutes had passed before you heard a knock on the door and went to look to see that it was Jack and immediately rolled your eyes before opening it.

"Can I help you?"

"Baby please just talk to me."

"And what am I supposed to say? You left me in the dark about two things and I'm just supposed to be okay with it?" You asked while moving to the side so he could fully come into the room. 

"No and I admit that what I did was wrong and I'll try to fix it the best way I can. Neelam seems nice and I think you'll like her."

"She has one time and one time only to get on my nerves and if she does I want her gone. I don't need to be micromanaged."

"I know you don't, but this is just to have an extra set of hands and that's it. I promise."

"Hmm you've been promising a lot of things lately and have broken each one."

"And it won't happen again."

"I'll believe it when I see it but for now, I'm not believing anything else that comes out of your mouth. I never thought I would ever say that. You have literally broken thirty years of trust in a matter of three hours. You tell me everything and I do the same exact thing to you. Still can't believe you thought that you could hide an entire HUMAN BEING from me."

"I wasn't trying to hide her."

"Her? Oh, her. It's a girl then huh?"

"Well she told me that the baby was a girl. I was just saying." Jack quietly said and all you did was eye him.

"I still mean what I said. I really don't want to see you for the rest of the day."

"But…. You've never missed one of my shows."

"I can still come to your show and not look at you. It’s called being backstage."

All Jack did was sigh.

"What can I possibly do to make this better? I don't like when you're mad at me."

"Pissed and hurt is more like it and truth be told… I don't know. But tell your little baby mama to stop tagging me in shit on instagram. You can start there. As for now, I am going to the spa to relax because I know my blood pressure is through the roof right now. Also, you better hope and pray that the DNA test is negative."

"Wait! You aren't going to leave me if the baby is mine are you?" Jack asked and was low key starting to panic. 

All you did was stare at him.

"Hold on, I know you’re pissed and I shouldn’t have been having sex with her up until the point that I did but like I said earlier we weren’t even together. And I don't want to be with anyone else."

"And like I said before, you planned on proposing and you told me that you had my ring for a whole damn year. And if it's yours that's not the problem. I'll even throw you a fucking baby shower. My problem is you lying to my face about it. For now, I'm done talking about this so go find Urban and bother him."

"Baby…"

"No. You don't get to call me that right now. And Urban knew about this didn't he?"

Now Jack was quiet.

"Yeah, you definitely aren't sleeping in the same bed as me tonight. Get out."

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[girlactionfigure]

Chiune Sugihara was a Japanese diplomat in Lithuania who put his family and career at risk by issuing thousands of hand-written transit visas to Jewish refugees fleeing Eastern Europe.

Chiune was born to a middle class family in Mino, Japan on the first day of the 20th century – 1/1/00. In elementary and high school he was a top student, and his father wanted him to become a doctor. Chiune’s own dream was to enter the foreign service, and he deliberately failed the medical school entrance exam by writing only his name on the test. Instead Chiune attended Waseda University and majored in English. He also joined a Christian fraternity to practice his English.

In 1919, Chiune passed the Foreign Ministry Scholarship exam, and served in the Japanese Imperial Army as a 2nd Lieutenant stationed in Korea. He resigned his commission in 1922 and trained for the Foreign Ministry, learning Russian and German in addition to English. He aced the qualifying exam and was sent to work in the foreign office in Harbin, China.

Chiune’s strong moral compass led him to resign his post as Deputy Foreign Minister in Manchuria because of rising Japanese violence against the Chinese (just two years later was the horrific Rape of Nanking by the Japanese Imperial Army.) Chiune returned to Japan, where he married Yukiko Kikuchi. They later had four sons.

Next Chiune went to Helsinki, Finland, where he worked as a translator for the Japanese delegation. In 1939, Chiune became vice-consul of the Japanese embassy in Kauna, Lithuania. Part of his job was to find out if Germany planned to attack the Soviet Union, and to relay any information about this to his bosses in Berlin and Tokyo.

In 1940, the Soviet Union occupied Lithuania. At that time, approximately 1/3 of Lithuanians were Jewish, many of them Torah scholars. The USSR viciously persecuted Jews, especially religious ones, and the Jews of Lithuania were desperate to escape the country – especially because Nazi Germany was occupying more and more of Eastern Europe and would soon be in Lithuania. Hundreds of them, mostly Orthodox, visited the Japanese consulate to beg for exit visas to Japan. The official Japanese policy was that candidates for visas must go through elaborate bureaucratic procedures and pay significant sums of money. Chiune contacted his superiors at the Japanese Foreign minister to ask if the rules could be relaxed to help Jewish refugees. His request was denied, as were his next two requests.

Chiune could have thrown up his hands and told the Jews there was nothing he could do for them, but instead, as he did in China, he was governed by his strong sense of right and wrong, rather than soulless bureaucrats. He ignored his orders and started issuing ten-day visas for Jews to travel through Japan on their way to safe havens like Shanghai, China, where 20,000 Jews rode out the war safely.

As word got out about the Japanese visas, Jews from all over Lithuania as well as Poland began to swarm Chiune’s office. He simply wouldn’t say no to anybody, and spent 18-20 hours a day (!) painstakingly writing visas by hand. He created a month’s supply of visas every single day from August to early September 1940, providing an escape route for thousands of Jews. On September 4, the Japanese consulate in Kauna was closed and Chiune had to leave the country. He was determined to create as many transit visas as possible, and continued doing so up until the last minute. At Kanuas Railway Station, a crowd of Jews gathered to say goodbye. Right before boarding the train, Chiune bowed deeply and cried out, “Please forgive me! I cannot write anymore. I wish you the best!” Someone in the crowd shouted, “Sugihara! We’ll never forget you! I’ll surely see you again!”

Chiune was reassigned to East Prussia, then Prague, and then Bucharest, Romania. When the Soviet Union occupied Lithuania in 1944, Chiune and his family were imprisoned in a POW camp for a year and a half. Finally they were released in 1946 and returned to Japan, but the foreign office had heard about his unauthorized visas, and he was forced to resign. At about this time, the Sugihara’s youngest son died of leukemia at age seven.

Unemployable in Japan, Chiune made use of his excellent Russian language skills and spent the next 16 years working in the Soviet Union while his wife and sons stayed in Japan. Chiune’s exceptional heroism was unknown for many years, until 1968, when he was contacted by Yehoshua Nishri, an attache working at the Israeli consulate in Tokyo. Nishri spent his youth in Poland, and heard stories of the legendary Japanese hero. Nishri made it his mission to publicize Chiune’s heroic acts, and the next year, 1969, Chiune traveled to Israel as an honored guest of the Israeli government. Jews he’d saved lobbied for him to be recognized as Righteous Among the Nations by Israeli Holocaust Memorial Yad Vashem, and in 1984 he received the honor. At that time he was too sick to travel, so his wife and son Nobuki accepted the award on his behalf.

Chiune was asked why he risked everything to help thousands of strangers. He answered, “You want to know about my motivation, don’t you? Well. It is the kind of sentiments anyone would have when he actually sees refugees face to face, begging with tears in their eyes. He just cannot help but sympathize with them. Among the refugees were the elderly and women. They were so desperate that they went so far as to kiss my shoes. Yes, I actually witnessed such scenes with my own eyes. Also, I felt at that time, that the Japanese government did not have any uniform opinion in Tokyo. Some Japanese military leaders were just scared because of the pressure from the Nazis; while other officials in the Home Ministry were simply ambivalent. People in Tokyo were not united. I felt it silly to deal with them. So, I made up my mind not to wait for their reply. I knew that somebody would surely complain about me in the future. But, I myself thought this would be the right thing to do. There is nothing wrong in saving many people’s lives… The spirit of humanity, philanthropy… neighborly friendship… with this spirit, I ventured to do what I did, confronting this most difficult situation – and because of this reason, I went ahead with redoubled courage.”

Chiune Sugihara died in Japan on July 31, 1986. Despite being a hero in Israel, and among Jews worldwide, he was completely unknown in his own country. Even his own children didn’t know what he had done. A huge delegation from around the world attended Chiune’s funeral, and only then did he become known in Japan.

Chiune received many awards and accolades, most of them posthumous. Among them are Sugihara Streets in Vilna, Lithuania, and Jaffa and Netanya in Israel. There is a Sugihara House Museum in Kaunas, and a park in Vilna where 200 trees were planted on his 100th birthday. There is a life-sized statue of him in Little Tokyo in Los Angeles, featuring a plaque with a quotation from the Talmud, “He who saves one life, saves an entire world.” In 1998, Chiune’s widow Yukiko traveled to Israel and was warmly received by survivors who’d been saved by her husband. There is a Sugihara park in Jerusalem, and he was featured on an Israeli postage stamp in 1998. The Lithuanian government declared 2020 “The Year of Chiune Sugihara.” He has been the subject of multiple works of art, including books, films and a play.

It’s estimated that over 100,000 people are alive today because of the brave actions of Chiune Sugihara.

[thedarkmongoose]

there’s a lot of discussion on whether logan roy loved his children or not, but i genuinely think he did. it’s possible to love someone and still have complicated feelings about them. to add, we know that logan himself came from a broken family; a physically abusive uncle who carved the scars on his back, a tenuous relationship with his brother ewan, and a sister named rose whose death he feels responsible for. he mirrors his uncle’s cruelty and is jealous of his own children’s success (as kendall pointed out in the family therapy session in prague), but when logan said, “everything i've done in my life, i’ve done for my children” — there is truth to that statement. it’s similar with shiv who loves her siblings and tom (to some degree) but will still “kick just to see if it comes back.”