#full disclaimer i got all of the actual text from other text posts on here but they were not from buffy ones

[rachelsdamhairbrush]

btvs textposts pt.1

[swallowerofdharma]

Yashiro’s Cruel God part one

Disclaimer: this post contains a detailed and straightforward analysis of chapter 25. Doumeki isn’t the villain, if you were worried about that. Actually I must apologize because I wanted to talk about him too, but as usual I started this meta with Yashiro and got carried away. This is also why I am dividing it in parts to avoid having a very very long post. So other parts will hopefully follow to fully elaborate the premise I made. Thank you for understanding. And please take care of your wellbeing, if mentioning Yashiro’s stepfather upset you, maybe skip this one.

Premise: not a matter of perfection but of balance

This person I followed reblogged the Declarations of healthy adulthood by David Richo in big big font and - having only one thought on my mind apparently - I read all that text in Yashiro’s POV. I actually don’t think that this is a perfect model or anything, and I am generally skeptical of self help books (I only assume this is something like it), but why not use this as an example, while considering something that I find interesting about Yashiro and Doumeki? During the discussion about the latest chapter, I said something along the lines of Doumeki representing young love, while Yashiro’s approach has been more mature, and I meant it thinking about Yashiro being aware and cautious about hurting others [and being intentional when he does, since he put a bullet in Doumeki’s leg] and being quite self reliant, and yes I know that he is also afraid of being hurt/loved! in previous posts here, I have mentioned that Yashiro’s acceptance of his past is only-in-part denial or downplaying of trauma, because it has been also a strategy and an impressive sign of his maturity and determination to live in the present. Isn’t it exceptional that Yashiro doesn’t seem all that resentful of his parents? That he openly says that he doesn’t blame others? We have to confront his words always mindful of the fact that he usually is an unreliable narrator, but in many instances he says the truth or half truths and his demeanor confirmed that he did some of what David Richo proposes: I accept full responsibility for the shape my life has taken; I accept that I may never feel I am receiving - or have received - all the attention I seek; One by one, I drop every expectation of people and things; I let go of blame, regret, vengeance, and the infantile desire to punish those who hurt or reject me; No one can or needs to bail me out. I am not entitled to be taken care of by anyone or anything, I let go of control without losing control.

I thought that it was very interesting to consider the Yashiro/Doumeki dynamics from different angles, like older/younger, or even realist/romantic, for example. The point of this experiment isn’t to make a comparison of merit nor to talk about a character in better light than another. Maybe those differences need to be confronted or balanced: for example the realist maybe needs some of the romantic’s idealism to soar and not be stuck on the ground. Yoneda-san might be onto something so human and amazing here. An important clarification is due before saying anything else. As characters that are written as full human beings, with their complexity and contradictions, Yashiro and Doumeki can’t be put neatly into the opposite categories I proposed. The story is much more dynamic, so I ask you to take a further step and put those opposites at the ends of a spectrum and to move our characters freely in both directions. Yashiro tends toward being effectively the older and more realistic one but he has traits that make him move down towards the other end too, even to the extreme of being childish. Consider for example these other statements, from the Declarations of healthy adulthood: I need never fear my own truth, powers, fantasies wishes, thoughts, sexuality, dreams, or ghosts; When change and growth scare me, I still choose them. I may act with fear, but never because of it; I am still safe when I cease following the rules my parents (or others) set for me; If people knew me as I really am, they would love me for being human like them. These points clearly demonstrate Yashiro’s unresolved problems, where he is stuck if you want, and why probably nobody believed me when I pointed at him as being mature (eh, he has his moments tho, you can’t deny that).

I challenge everyone to consider that those four points in particular are quite challenging for most people in general, but particularly so for someone who has fear/betrayal as the foundational principle in their childhood instead of a normal amount even a scarse amount of parental love/safety. And I want to underline childhood here, not teenage years or later.

I need never fear my own truth, powers, fantasies wishes, thoughts, sexuality, dreams, or ghosts. Yashiro here is a mix of contradictions, because he outwardly seems to own those things, even making them a point of his persona, but most of those things are based on the lies he told himself, or his stepfather told him: see this other point

I am still safe when I cease following the rules my parents (or others) set for me. Isn’t this statement extremely helpful to understand Yashiro’s situation? To feel safe he had to build his personality according to the rules of the one who had all the power over him and had already taken away any sense of security from him. This is probably one of those things that can be hard to understand when you have never been there. Most notably, not only in the manga this has been pointed out, but it has been pointed out by Yashiro himself. He is self conscious of this, he knows that he lied to himself as a child, that he had to, and he is constantly choosing to continue lying because that is still the only foundation he has. There was no familial love, no other relative safety. Letting go of the lies actually means going to pieces and breaking down.

This isn’t different from what happens to people who are tortured. Yashiro’s father completely took away any sense of security and safety. The aggravating circumstances were that Yashiro as a child didn’t have any other point of reference or knowledge to understand what was happening with his body and in that state of mind what his father told him had to be the only truth possible. Parents who abuse their children most often don’t even realize what they are doing to its full extent. That’s the immense cruelty of these types of situations. The rules are lies, but the lies are rules to follow to be safe:

You like it when it hurts, right? If it doesn’t hurt, I can’t get into it.

What happened in chapter 25: why now?

Yashiro didn’t want to have sex with Doumeki and said so repeatedly. Doumeki has grown on him, behind liking his physical appearance or using him as a substitute for Kageyama: Yashiro truly liked this person and he liked that Doumeki was impotent. Thanks to that, Yashiro grew comfortable around Doumeki and with comfort and safety comes familiarity. When Yashiro discovered that the impotence was gone, he was angry and terrified. They had become too close and now the premise has changed and Yashiro couldn’t trust Doumeki or himself anymore. I won’t analyze here the scene in the shower but I’ll skip to the point. Doumeki only understood that his love was required, that he was wanted and stopped thinking. He acted passionately like any young person who had a normal foundation in love would. He didn’t understand anything that Yashiro asked or why there were mixed signals and what it all meant. He pushed and hurt and broke without being aware of what he was doing.

And Yashiro was trapped in a situation he had tried to escape from his all life: with a person who felt familiar, a person he loved and relied on, in the safety of a home, who wanted sex and was going to do what he wanted regardless of what Yashiro had to say. Yashiro desperately tried to control what was happening through usual patterns, making it hurt, asking Doumeki to do from behind, detaching the sex from his emotions, but he couldn’t and for the first time in his life sex was different from what he knew, because while Yashiro had loved his stepfather, his father didn’t love him and he didn’t treat him like Doumeki did. And every lies built around his father’s abuse came to the surface. Including the fact that his father never loved him. Doumeki broke him indeed because he broke through the lies/rules upon which Yashiro had intentionally built his entire personality/safety. And he wasn’t ready for it, he specifically said he didn’t want it, he had known all along, he already knew when men before Doumeki tried to make love to him and when he built a strategy to specifically avoid being confronted with those lies/rules. He didn’t love those men. He did love Doumeki though. But once again Yashiro didn’t have a choice. And he was physically hurt and recovering after being shot and knowing his life was in danger outside of that room. He had just discovered that Doumeki lied about being impotent the previous time he touched him in the car and before that. It was probably the worst timing possible for making love. At some point Yashiro grew resigned and even reciprocated a little, reaching for Doumeki, caressing his face, and he even reassured him before he fell asleep. There were words that Doumeki said that Yoneda didn’t disclose fully, choosing instead to immediately took us in the flashback with Yashiro. I think it is probable that what Doumeki said was something that Yashiro’s father had said and that we are going to confront before the end of the manga. I personally want to know these words more than what Yashiro said while an airplane passed by and Doumeki was unconscious. Morbid maybe on my part.

I have stated that I am not going to make Doumeki a villain here. The point of this analysis is just to see where Doumeki was in terms of maturity. To be continued…

[kimbapisnotsushi]

here are some more miscellaneous post-ts headcanons but this time we're not going pro teams we're taking a walk on the side of your average working adult let's go!!

okay let's be real do we REALLY think lev is in charge of his own social media accounts bc i feel like that's a dumpster fire waiting to happen

i'm going to say yes because it's funny as hell

he tweets things like "lol i worked with [insert older veteran actor here] today i had no idea he was such an asshole" and gets frantic phone calls from the pr team like three seconds after posting

his instagram is also full of like. really blurry casual pics and just doesn't look professionally curated at all but the fans love him for it

i'm actually super curious as to whether he gets typecasted a lot and if so i'd love to know what it is

i want to say goofy comic relief side character?? so when he gets selected for a serious drama role nobody is expecting him to blow it out of the water but he does!!!!!!

also another thing lev does that gives his pr team a heart attack is when he posts anything vaguely related to his love life. which funnily enough are the only quality non-shitposts he does himself

like you've got the aesthetic silhouettes against a wall, the hands intertwined on a candlelit table, the vague tweets of "so lucky to wake up next to you. wish it would never end <3" and everyone's going WILD trying to figure out who it is

(and, well, nobody is going to notice shibayama yuuki liking the posts amidst all the other pro volleyball players who do, right?)

shirabu's got a rep in med school for having the worst fucking bedside manner of all time

well not really i think he's like. the kind where fellow/older colleagues and such judge him for it and they think that he could stand to be a LITTLE bit nicer but if he works with kids or whatever i bet the kids would actually really like him.

he's dry and straightforward and calm and takes them seriously and treats them like adults. the only thing he does to baby them is dumb down the medical jargon into an explanation they can actually understand

ugh shirabu actually makes me really soft for what an asshole he is

oh but if you're a bitch ass bastard for no reason he'll try to be as snarky as he can be without like. getting reported to hr or whatever

sorry i know this probably isn't how medical professionalism works irl once again i just think it'd be really funny

also can i just say that i think it's the funniest fucking thing that komi became an actor. like where the hell did THAT come from

i feel like he got thrust into doing a role for a class play during cultural festival season and got hooked on it probably? because literally when else would he have the time to get into/practice that kind of shit

that's probably a fun fact he drops during a magazine interview or something LMAAAAO

"yeah volleyball practice took up most of my time, and i never really thought about doing anything else. but then things changed in my third year of high school when i got cast for cinderella . . ."

speaking of fukurodani. yukie and kaori my beloveds

i skipped out on them during my managers post which i regret deeply and dearly so here they are!!

full disclaimer i don't know how sports promoters actually work i'm assuming they promote whatever sports games they are assigned instead of just sticking to one sport only? which means that whenever kaorie gets her hands on something that isn't volleyball she gets a dozen texts from bokuto moaning about betrayal and treason and all that

when kaori gets with someone she meets through work (so someone on a pro sports team) the rest of fukurodani are like "okay but he's a BASEBALL PLAYER" as if being a baseball player is the most atrocious thing a person could be

kaori's like "guys come ON i told him all of you were cool!" and everyone's like "now why in the world would you tell him that"

yukie has a decently popular cooking channel that is loved not for her yummy recipes or her aesthetic filming but because none of her kitchenware matches

she just collects whatever she likes + a bunch of shit that's been gifted to her and while it should make her kitchen look cluttered it's all just very cozy and lived-in

like. all her pots and pans are different colors and themes. no pair of chopsticks are the same. she has a ladle shaped like a dinosaur and a teapot glazed with magnolias on the side

her recipes DO slap tho she and osamu collab a lot

UGH i love them living nice fulfilling adult lives i wish that were me

[soundslikediamonds]

Rescuer (part 1)

Summary: (I'm not very good at summaries but!)

This whole concept came to me after watching Butler's interview with Josh Horowitz. Just seeing him in his hoodie and with his scruff just in that cold apartment over zoom made me think of this whole concept, yet it's super long, so I'm writing it in parts. I also got inspired seeing all those pictures with fans on the set of Bikeriders.

This is a fic where while walking alone at night, reader is being followed, but fortunately before anything can happen Austin saves reader.

Word Count: 4291

Disclaimer: This is my first time using Tumblr and first story posted here. I hope everyone enjoys!

Warnings: uncomfortable topic of being followed late at night, family dysfunction...

Hope you enjoy! (y'all I am SO nervous to put this out there lol)

_________

You close the front door and seal it with the lock. It's pitch black outside, a swollen full moon out with distant clouds. The air you breathe is cold and fans out little fog clouds each time an exhale escapes your mouth. It's no later than 12:00 am and you just finished all that you were taking for the night.

You would be back in a few days, when you were sure your Dad would be out. He was away this night, working a long night shift and you knew that. That was the reason why you managed to sneak back into the house and take some more of your belongings without your dad knowing you were here. It was clear he didn't want you back, not after that explosive argument last week that the two of you had which left him kicking you out.

You had no problem with leaving. Actually, it was something that tempted your mind for quite some time now. Somewhere between dad's anger, and the two of you fighting all the time, it was so exhausting. He made you get out of the house and made it very clear that he didn't want to see you again. You grabbed some extra clothing and toiletries for the night and your backpack before you called your friend Ava asking if you could sleep over. She was obviously awake and wasn't one who would take much to persuade.

You didn't go into detail of why you needed to be over there. It was late and the last thing you wanted to do was tell her that you, a college student, was officially homeless, having no real thought-out plan of what you would do. You just kept it simple; you were at the campus library studying into the night and by the time you headed back, you realized you forgot your keys and no one was in the house.

'just need somewhere to sleep for the night and then i'll be out tomorrow morning. kinda crazy how this is my life rn ahahaha'

You had texted Ava those words, to which responded in laughing crying emojis.

'dww!! it's life. it happens. i'll make sure to give you some of my clothes'

Shoot. The clothes. Although you did have a set of pajamas for the night, it would probably make more sense that you would burrow Ava's clothes. After all, you were locked out of your house. Where would those clothes come from if otherwise?

You placed everything you gathered in your backpack and took the bus to get to the other side of town. On the bus there was practically no one and as you had the back seats to yourself, you took this time to really think about what this meant for you.

You didn't have a home. You had class in the morning, and then two more in the afternoon, but you didn't have a home.

If you wanted help (which you probably should have asked for), that would require you telling the whole story of what happened, which was something you didn't want to go through.

If you took time to really think about it, you would probably cry. It was a surprise that you haven't done it yet, but it was probably because you haven't had the time, in retrospect. It was only the sound of your dad's tone that rung your ears, telling you to "leave and never come back" that made you scurry to your room, take what you needed to take and leave without saying another word, or giving eye contact to your parents. Your body moved quickly than what your mind could even process and now that you were sitting still since this pressing hour of chaos, you allowed your eyes to close, resting your hand on the top of your head as a small sigh escapes your breath.

What would you do now?

You stayed in that position for only a little while before deciding on opening your phone and choosing to listen to the song you thought would suit the moment best. As you looked out with window, you allowed for the duration of the melody to give you a sort of comfort and you told yourself deep down inside that everything was going to be okay. You were going to be okay.

That was last week.

Now, as you start down the stairs throwing one more glance over your shoulder at your old house, you tread down the street. For these past few days you've just been keeping yourself in an small Inn. It's been okay, mostly you were out for the day and so the Inn only did its thing and helped you out at night with a bed to lay down on and rest. But tonight was your last night and you had no idea what you were going to do afterward.

You were sort of on this plan of just going to a 24/hour coffee shop and stay there "studying" for the night. You've looked it up and there are a couple of places in the area. So, you considered that at least for the night you'd stay at the coffee shop to think things through.

You aren't alone as you walk. You glance down at your phone and notice that you have 15 more minutes before you'd reach the bus stop. The sounds of footsteps are distant behind you and, just because, you look over your shoulder just a little bit, but a chill runs through your arms when seeing that it's a man wearing all black with a hood over his head. He looks right out you and you whip your head forward, feeling your chest heave in a mini-gasp.

Now, you tell yourself, there's no need to overreact.

That would usually help you, but it is late and dark, and no one else is out. Plus, he's walking pretty slow, and has no problem with walking and staying behind you. Curiosity now takes over you as you decide to lessen the pace of your walk just a tad, and suddenly you hear his footsteps slow its pace as well.

Frowning, you now pick up the pace, to which this man does the same. Your heart starts beating fast and you check your surroundings, realizing the neighborhood you're in is dark and the lights to the houses by the streets are all out, indicating that everyone is either asleep or away.

You take a breath and decide to cross the street, just going at it because there aren't any on-going cars, but once you reach the sidewalk, you look down at the silhouette that's casted from the orange streetlight and see a distant but present shadow still trailing behind you.

You are officially. Being. Followed.

You've heard of stuff happening like this, and it's absolutely horrible. No one should be able to feel their own life being threatened just by walking down the streets at night. You just never thought of it happening to you, yet right now, your chest rises and falls as your hands collect sweat.

You have to stay calm.

If you start running, chances are he'll take off after you. You need to lead him someplace where there's people, yet you don't know this area half as well, and it's hard to make up places in the dark.

Silently praying that nothing happens, you take a risk a turn a sharp corner to another block which at this intersection you would normally continue to walk straight, but your legs aren't in control of what's going on and move out of fear and in search for desperate help.

Your eyes luckily find a light and you realize that you're coming to a gas station. The lights are open, so you knew that there has to at least be someone in the corner store. If you just casually walk in, the man following you would have to leave.

You start to hear footsteps from behind you pick up and your heart starts pounding within your chest. For some strange reason, although you are ridiculously scared, you aren't running. You aren't screaming for help. You're managing to speed walk with your head held high although trying to focus on your breathing and steady yourself. It's crazy how you're not looking back, but only walking faster, keeping your eyes straight on the blaring lights.

The Gas Station is right across the street from you and- without even clicking any buttons at the intersection which you should- you walk down the street and go up the small hill, and as your eyes avert to the station, you notice a tall man in a Carhartt jacket over black jeans, walking out of the corner store. He's looking down at the receipt in his hands as he walks to the pump. You're relieved to see someone at least, and you know that you're just seconds away from safety. However, as you're walking, you're scared when you see now in the corner of your eye, the man who is following you, starts jogging in your direction.

Without thinking you start making a light jog, no longer to the corner store, but to the man who's right in front of you, who has no idea of what small chase scene is in front of him as he looks at his receipt. By the sound of nearing footsteps, the man in front of you looks up just in time for you to greet him loudly before wrapping your arms around his neck, holding on to his tall frame. The man stumbles backward, but you turn your head to whisper in his ear.

"The man behind me is following me, please help me," You whisper, and that's all it takes before you feel strong arms wrapped around your waist.

"Hey, babe, sorry, I was just about to text you. Didn't mean to make you walk over to me." He says, the low tone of his voice vibrates your forehead as your head rests against his chest.

You're squeezing him now, thankful that the security in his voice and the tightness in his hold makes you feel safe right here in the Gas Station parking lot, right where some creep has followed you to. You don't even know if he's still there, or walking closer, and you don't want to know. You're not lifting your head up from being buried in this man's chest.

"Hey, the funniest thing happened at work today, but I'll tell you all about it once we go home. And you get to pick the movie tonight, but I gotta tell ya, if it's those cartoons again, I might just cry." The man says, a small chuckle coming out. A breath escapes your lips, almost like relief in itself. You'd smile if you could, if you weren't so scared.

Now, as you're still in the hug, you can't really hear anything. It's quiet and you're not sure what's happening in the world where your face is not against the fabric of a fall jacket, where you're not heavily breathing with tears stinging your eyes. You'd like to hear what's going on, or maybe you don't, but you can't, because all you hear is the sound of your heart pounding through your ears.

Finally after what seems like the longest seconds of your life, you feel the pad of a thumb stroke slowly through your hair just barely, just enough that you can tell it's within intent. To soothe you. You begin to match your breathing, your chest rising and falling, to the thumb strokes against your hair. You suddenly feel a lift of the hand and arms start to loosen just by a little bit.

"He's gone." You hear this man whisper in your ear.

Those words suddenly break you and now all of the emotion from the following to the chase catch up to you as hot tears slide down your cheek.

The man in your arms now holds you tightly once more and starts swaying you in his embrace.

"I am so sorry. I truly am, I...I'm so sorry." He says, with a deep and genuine ache in his voice. You nod, even though he did nothing but save you from what could've been, and just the thoughts of how the night could've turned out entirely worse, sobs now bubble and pour out as you begin crying on his chest.

"Do you wanna sit in my car?" His voice asks, and you hear the decibel of his voice raise just a little bit higher as it coats with soft and gentleness. You realize he's asking you that way because he wants you to decide. He wants to make it clear that whatever it is, he's not the one telling you to do anything. Not after this horrible experience.

"Okay." You choke out, nodding once again, before you slowly pull yourself away from where you nestle in his chest. You blink back to reality and look around you, seeing that the creep indeed is gone and you're standing outside in the parking lot of the Gas Station, while this tall man, who looks just a few years older than you, stares at you with kindness and grace. This is the first time you actually look into the eyes of your angel of the night. He has golden hair, a hint of scruff on his chin and around his pink full lips, with piercing baby blue eyes that sparkle even in dim light.

You try to smile, though you're wiping your eyes at the same time, and you can't help but feel like you look rather like a mess.

"Thank you so much." You say above a whisper.

The man doesn't comment on what he did, instead takes your arm gently and leads you to his car, a black vehicle near the last pump nearest to the car wash. While one hand still rests on your arm, you watch as this man digs up his car keys from his jacket pocket and unlocks the doors. He opens the passenger seat for you, to which you whisper thanks before he closes the door and walks around his car, leaving you only a few seconds to truly absorb everything that just happened in what seems to be in slow motion and in a flash at the same time.

You sit in silence for a moment, leaning backward in your seat as you try to look back and see if the creepy man would just pop out from nowhere. You're subconsciously doing it. You don't even realize that's what you're doing, looking at the back window until his hand is planted on your arm, bringing you back into reality. You turn immediately, looking at your rescurer.

"You're safe here." He says.

You nod. You believe him, but you don't even realize your hands are shaking until he looks at them, and you notice his jaw clench. You hug yourself, trying to remove the attention from your shaking hands and you feel his hand touch your shoulder. You try another smile as you turn to look at him.

"Thank you. I don't know what more to say but... thank you so much." You say, feeling like there are not enough words to express the true gratitude your heart.

He nods before he looks down in his lap, letting out a big sigh. You shake your head in response, now using your hands to massage your forehead in small circles. The two of you are silent in the car, but the both of you are thinking of everything that went down.

"My mind wants to think about how...he could've done anything to me. I've just been saved, and that's what I'm shook up about- the fact that it could have happened." You say, wondering what's even wrong with you.

Sure, you almost had something terrible happen to you. But someone came to your rescue just before it did. And instead of focusing on that and being grateful, you're still thinking of what it was that could've happened. Is that normal?

"I would be more concerned if you weren't thinking about the "what ifs". That's completely and totally valid." The man sitting beside you says. He then takes another breath.

"But I'm so glad nothing happened. And I'm proud of you for doing what you did. You know, you saw someone and immediately went to them when you felt in danger." He expresses.

You're sort of blocking that amount of praise that's trying to enter in, just because you don't believe you did anything out of braveness but out of fear. You were trembling in this man's arms, for crying out loud. He could have someone, or maybe he didn't want to get involved, or anything of that matter. But, you were grateful nonetheless.

"Thank you for going along." You say in a small voice. And he really was amazing. There was something about what he said, there was no hint of never knowing you before this. It was like you both were together. It was like you were truly going home with him. It was like you were going to pick the movie. With no hesitance he was able to get into this character and save you just by how he held you.

He shakes his head now, folding his arms as he looks ahead. "I was, uh...I was supposed to go to the other gas station, a few miles away from this one. There was too much traffic, and I decided to go here, even though I was complaining because the prices here are more expensive. But I realize that there was a reason why I was here."

He turns and looks at you, an actual scared look on his face. "If we were just seconds from each other, who knows what could've happened?"

You close your eyes. Your mind is going there, but you don't want it to. You don't want to go there. Based on the fact that you're not answering, the man breaths out a sigh.

"What happens now? Is there somewhere I can take you? Are you going home?" He then asks.

Your eyes then flicker open. How are you going to explain this?

Somehow in the midst of everything going on, you haven't thought of the fact that there was no place to stay. That your friends' places couldn't be used, or that your time at the local Inn was up. You couldn't think of anything when that creep was after you, but now that it's all over, you have to face the reality of the scary revelation.

"I, uh..." Your eyes flicker down, and you look at your shoelaces. You then look over at him. You're about to tell him, but your throat gets caught and you bring a hand to your head and close your eyes, slowly rubbing your forehead in small circles.

"You can just take me to the coffee shop. The one on Berden." You reply, your voice small.

He blinks at you, before giving a little nod, and you watch as his fingers mindlessly strokes the bit of scruff his has on his chin.

"Oh. Sure, yeah, we can stop for coffee if that's what you'd like. And then after that where will I take you?" He asks.

"Well..." You let out a breath. "I'm going to be staying there. I have, um...I have a lot of studying I need to do. That's where I was going, anyway. To the café...before...y'know, everything happened. Before I met you. I was on my way to the coffee shop." You ramble on.

You mentally kick yourself. Why do you have to sound so awkward when you're lying? I mean, sure you actually do need to study, but you're not really planning on it.

The man's eyebrows furrow as he turns and looks at you. You can tell just by the look in his eye that he's confused, and that he doesn't believe you.

"You can't study now. Not after everything. You need to rest somewhere." He argues.

You shrug, not meeting his eyes. "I'll be okay."

"I won't be able to sleep knowing that I had a chance of taking you home and refusing it. It's no problem driving you, really. Even if you live an hour away." The man says.

"It's okay, really." You try and persuade.

"It's just..." You watch as the man sighs, drawing his fingers to the scruff of his chin. He scoffs. "I don't know, it's so dangerous here."

He looks over at you in seriousness. "Is there no where I can drop you off?"

You nod. "Yes, the café on Ber-"

"No, no." You watch as the man shakes his head. He lets out a sigh and closes his eyes. When he finally looks at you, you swallow the guilt of not being able to tell him the whole truth. In this stranger's eyes there's a look of wanting to keep you secure.

"I have this feeling...you don't want to be home right now." He guesses, his voice a whisper.

That causes you to look down at your shoes. You feel his eyes on you and you know you're done. With that instant motion of not being able to look him in the eye, you're sure he can tell that his assumption is right.

When you finally look at him, you shoot a small smile. "You know...I can take the bus or something. You've done so much for me already, and I thank you. But, you probably have family waiting for you at home, or someplace to be." You say.

There's a silence as the man leans back, his back touching the seat. He slowly smiles, looking down at his hands.

"I uh...I live by myself in a lowly apartment, so...it really is no problem to-"

Suddenly, the man stops talking and then turns to look at you. He looks at you with a puzzled look on his face and you're wondering just what it is that he's thinking.

"I could propose something, but it might be strange." He starts, his fingers going back to resting on his chin.

He tends to do that a lot more than he's conscious of, you think to yourself.

You look at the hesitance on his face and blink. "What is it?"

"Well," He sits up straighter in his seat. "What if you just crashed at my place for the night?" He asks.

You blink. "What?"

He shoots a gentle smile. "Yeah, I mean...it's late, and it's obvious you don't want to go home. My apartment's close, and..." He holds you arm gently.

"I'd be completely out of your hair, there's a room that's completely secluded, you wouldn't see me at all, and there's office space if you dare wish to study...even though, I personally feel like with everything that's happened, going to sleep would be the best option, um...but I...I could make you some tea, uh...and I have these scented candles that I find always helps me, just feel better after a long tiring day...of course, I've never been through what you've just gone through, I mean that's absolutely terrifying, but-"

You then touch his arm. The poor man is rambling without even taking a breath. And he looks so apologetic, almost like it was his fault.

"What's your name?" You ask, changing the subject completely.

It takes him aback, for sure, and you find yourself start to smile. He blinks, chucking a little bit.

"I guess we haven't really formally introduced each other. I'm Austin." He says, extending his hand out.

You look at his eyes. Austin. It wouldn't be the first name you would guess, it's sort of unexpected, but looking at his face, you don't know if there's any other name you would give. It's charming, which is one of the words you would use to describe him.

You smile, reaching over and shaking Austin's hand as you say your own name. He gives a friendly smile laughs.

"Nice to meet you." He says shyly, which causes you both to laugh awkwardly.

"Nice to meet you, Austin." You smile. Then Austin looks at you with a serious look.

"Hey, um...I really am offering for you to stay at my apartment. Just for the night if that's easiest, and then," He shrugs. "And then, whatever you want to happen next, I'll allow." He says.

You nod. You know his intentions are good. You know, and it doesn't take much to know- that he is a good man. You almost experienced what wasn't a good man, and it scared you. It scares you to think that somewhere that man, and other people like him are out and about, roaming innocent streets to do sinful deeds for humans that don't deserve anything like that.

A chill runs down your spine as you think back to what could've been. Right now, however, there is nowhere else you can go. You'll admit you're in a very vulnerable state. You're mind isn't the best that it can be. You're still shook up. You're scared, and you know deep down that if you are anywhere away from Austin this time of night, you'd be even more afraid.

So with that, you look at Austin, who's been looking at you this whole time. You take a deep breath and then nod.

"Okay. I can go to your place for tonight. Thank you." You say in a small voice.

Austin nods, giving your arm another reassuring touch before he starts the car. And without another word he's set and soon you both are off, driving into the empty streets of night.

[wander-wren]

wrt to the “adam shouldve been a visionary” dreamer trilogy/greywaren post i’ve seen a few times (possibly reblogged?)….well, maybe, but also no.

it’s not that i don’t have my own gripes with tdt (namely, yes, not enough adam), but i just…i can’t get behind visionary adam. not canon visionary, anyway.

like. you’re telling me ronan “the choice was death or hurting adam, which wasnt a choice at all” lynch would have handled it with ANY amount of grace if adam “i will be your hands. i will be your eyes” parrish was given the ultimatum “hurt others every time you have a vision and live, or turn the visions inward and quickly die horribly”??? no!!

and maybe in this alternate version of tdt that’s the whole point, yknow. if that’s what you want, ABSOLUTELY go ahead, dream on about it, write the fic, send it to me i’d love to see. etc etc etc

but the point of the dreamer trilogy is that it’s about ronan. so if we’re keeping with that vision (ha), and with the basic premise of the series, then no, i don’t think visionary adam is a good idea.

which begs the question…what WOULD i have adam do?

[disclaimer i read each book as they came out and havent done full rereads since so my memory is spotty, pls correct anything i get wrong]

in all honesty i would keep call down the hawk essentially as it is bc i think it was good. it takes place during november, no? so potentially add in/exchange a shorter adam moment for thanksgiving break. he can help scry and figure out psychic things and be distrustful of bryde.

have winter break be during part of mister impossible. seriously where are adam’s school breaks lmao. adam is relentlessly practical and cares about ronan and he should be here to sow doubt and try to curb some of ronan’s more ecoterrorist tendencies. ronan can sneak around and hide from him and there can be tension and worry and anger. but also a lot of good pynch feelings still, ofc, bc its Them.

but don’t worry! they can still have a big fight/falling out over the ley lines/bryde/the ecoterrorism before adam leaves for school again. as silly as it is that ronan freaked out over an unread text when adam was literally napping, maybe this time it’s deliberate. or maybe adam really was napping again, or driving, or whatever. the rest of mister impossible can play out from there, or a condensed/reshuffled version of it to accommodate adam being there for a while.

greywaren can start the same, but for the love of god let ronan get out faster it is HIS BOOK. i do like henessey helping him do that i think its an important part of her character, and adam’s part in all that was very good and angsty so i wouldnt change it, but i would have it happen in the first half. ronan and adam make up and go off to do whatever was happening by the end of greywaren tbh i got confused. or something totally different! who knows.

also i just want to see adam interact with the actual visionaries and with carmen and henessey more and with bryde i think it would be very cool. very fun.

i also think gansey/blue/henry shouldve shown up literally ever at all but idk how they fit in so shh

[bad-science]

yo wait ur sister was arrested?? On your birthday??

🤪🤪 lol yUP. She’s… yeah. “A mess” doesn’t even begin to cover it. There’s a massive amount of detail spanning years that I can’t even put in a single post but I have no issue putting her on blast here LMAO. A bit of a vent I guess, Warning for mention of suicide, abuse, and sort of domestic violence

I’ll put it under a cut sjdhsj but the TLDR is she fought with her shitty bf and threw an empty soda can at him, threatened to kill herself and all the cops, and now has a charge for domestic violence.

Happy birthday to me!!!!! My life is a divine comedy and I am not laughing <3

The summary is that she’s a shit tier person who’s dating another shit tier person and they abuse each other until she threatens to kill herself, which she has done for basically the last 10 years if anybody tells her no about anything at all and if she doesn’t get her way. It’s always just a threat and she uses it to get attention and manipulate everyone around her - and I would NOT say this lightly. She is legitimately a sick and horrible person who has mistreated and abused me and my mother to the point of our own mental health reaching a very seriously bad state. I do believe she has some sort of mental illness which could be influencing her actions but my god she refuses to get any help and nothing we do or offer her is ever good enough. When she was a teenager a psychiatrist diagnosed her as a narcissist?? But nothing ever came of that and she never got treatment. (Auto-disclaimer that people with NPD are not automatically abusers, but my sister absolutely is one lol). She is also a compulsive liar and has made up outlandish lies since she was a literal toddler (another thing the psych pinpointed immediately, but again nothing was ever done about it since she outright refuses treatment unless she can abuse or sell prescription drugs.) Back then it wasn’t as big of an issue. But now I see it as a red flag.

Today at 6am I woke up to a call from my mom and learned that my sister had finally been arrested for “domestic violence”. According to her, and this may not be the full story, her boyfriend accused her of cheating (again) (she is a cheater but to my knowledge has not cheated on Him specifically). They fought. She threw an empty soda can at him?? And then he called the police who apparently drug her out and arrested her. They said she was resisting arrest, she says she wasn’t. Acab per usual but my sister is the type to actually fight the cops when she’s in this mental state.

She did in fact threaten to “come back and slit (the cops’) throats”, they asked if she knows that threatening an officer is a felony, and she said “well then I threaten you with everything EXCEPT that,” which is a normal thing to say… and then they put her in a straight jacket bc she was acting out and threatening everyone. Lol.

My mom went to bail her out, $1,300 later my sister was screaming bloody murder in the car, yelling FUCK YOU in my mom’s face over and over, and got even more angry when my mom would not drive her to her bf’s house “to kill him”. Somehow she has decided that all of this was our mother’s fault? Bc she cannot ever be wrong ever and flips out when she doesn’t get her way. She is 24 years old.

They came home, I heard her scream outside, she came in screaming the same typical fuck you’s and all at my mom, I was honestly trying not to laugh bc I’m so desensitized to it by now and everything she says is ridiculous. Then she stormed out and started walking barefoot down the road claiming to be going to her bf’s house. Refused to get in my dad’s car when he found her. Then she stopped at the lake, texted a picture to her bf, told him essentially “it’s ok, you’re setting me free.” The picture was of his shoes by the lake; her intention being that she thought it was perfectly horrible to leave his stuff in the place where she “planned” to kill herself. Specifically to manipulate him and scare him. Bc guess what! She didn’t do anything. She just wanted him to think of having to go to the place where she “died” to retrieve his shoes and feel like everything is all his fault. Again… she didn’t do anything and it was all a threat to guilt trip him.

Bf called the cops AGAIN not even 12 hours into her bail djdgjd but this time the cops did nothing. She is now as okay as she can be I guess, and… we’ll just have to weather the aftermath storm bc she takes a long ass time to stop treating all of us like shit. NEEDLESS TO SAY, if they don’t fuckin break up after this they’re both lost causes and they can drive each other crazy for all I care.

We are all exhausted and stressed and I put up my own birthday decorations… but I do have a lemon cake. So that’s nice.

[potetopro]

I Used Artificial Intelligence on Japanese Voice Actor (Seiyuu) Content

TL;DR Seiyuu fansubber rambles too long about how Whisper and other AI go *BRRRR!!!!* and the future of humanity is at stake. Actual TL;DR OpenAI's Whisper gives us a sneak peek into just how much automatic transcription and translation by artificial intelligence has improved. I wouldn't say it'll completely replace human translation just yet, but it's definitely something industries will have to adapt to.

Introduction

Let's start why I even decided to make this blog. I woke up today and noticed a message on The Seiyuu Stage Discord server that had a very interesting link to a reddit post. According to OP, they used OpenAI's Whisper to create a collection of English translated subtitles on the popular TV show "Tokyo Encounter", which is hosted by the famous Japanese voice actors (seiyuu) Nakamura Yuuichi and Sugita Tomokazu. OP claims that Whisper has "quite good translation" and was "roughly ~90% accurate". That's a pretty big claim if I do say so myself.

Although the link led to one of those shady pirating sites, curiousity got the best of me and I decided to download it like an idiot. Fortunately I didn't get hit with a trojan or anything, and the file was just a zip full of .ass files (subtitle files similar to .srt files). Before I jump into the main content of this blog post, I'd like to provide some important background information that is required to understand just what I'm talking about.

Disclaimer: I am not an expert in the field of artificial intelligence. I am also not a native Japanese speaker.

Background Information

Even if you've been living under a rock for the past year or so, you've probably at least heard of the crazy fast advancements in artificial intelligence (AI) within the past few months. You've probably heard of Stable Diffusion, ChatGPT, and many other AI that have begun to revolutionize the world. Today I'll be doing a quick review of how well OpenAI's Whisper works on a certain type of niche content. For those of who are not yet unware, OpenAI is famous for it's AI "ChatGPT". I literally asked ChatGPT to explain what ChatGPT is here below.

What is OpenAI's Whisper?

So what about Whisper? What is its purpose? According to OpenAI's official blog post,

"Whisper is an automatic speech recognition (ASR) system trained on 680,000 hours of multilingual and multitask supervised data collected from the web."

To put it simply, Whisper is like a supercharged Google Translate for videos and audio or a better YouTube auto-captions.

Like YouTube's auto-captions feature, Whisper can transcribe human speech and even translate it into other languages. The one downside is that Whisper cannot auto transcribe and auto translate in real time, so you cannot watch a video/listen to audio at the same time. That leads me to the next section of this horribly organized post.

OpenAI's Whisper Vs. Japanese Voice Actor (Seiyuu) Content

Ok, with all of the background knowledge that's required to understand is now out of the way, I can finally jump into the main purpose of this blog. The main things I'll be exploring are listed below

Just HOW GOOD is Whisper AI at transcribing and translating Japanese? More specifically, speech from professional voice actors in Japan, who are usually known for having some of the most clearest enunciation in the country.

How does Whisper compare to other machine transcribers/translators such as YouTube's Auto-Captions feature and Adobe's Speech to Text feature for Premiere Pro?

Is Whisper AI even worth using?

Whisper AI - Transcribing & Translating

Due to some issues with my PC not cooperating with them, I am currently not able to actually use Whisper myself. Therefore, I will be using Whisper outputs that I got from other people.

Let's start by looking where Whisper messes up.

CLIP 1

Nakamura: How about you set it to today? Hanae: It's the 9th.

So in the clip above, Nakamura suggests Hanae to set the date on the game to be the day the episode airs/is recorded, which is on the 9th of the month. For some reason, Whisper completely messes up the translation. This is about 1 minute and 30 seconds into the episode, and until then there were no obvious mistakes from Whisper.

CLIP 2

There are two lines in the clip above that stand out to me.

花江 「出た！懐かしい」 Hanae: I remember this 杉田 「ちょっと声が若い」 Sugita: He's a young man

While the translation for Hanae's line isn't outright wrong, it lacks some nuance. I would've translated it as, "There it is! This brings me back!"

Whisper leaves out the nuance of Hanae being surprise when it suddenly appears on screen, and also him expressing his feeling of nostalgia.

With Sugita's line, Whisper straight up incorrectly translates the line. Sugita states that the voice of speaker in the game sounds like he's young (implying that the voice of the speaker sounds a lot older in the present day).

CLIP 3

In this 3rd clip, I'd like to praise Whisper for accurately transcribing the input controls that Hanae is reading out loud. There were no mistakes in this particular clip, and it didn't make any mistakes when Hanae was reading the input controls before this scene as well.

If I had to nitpick, Whisper seems to really push back the timing of each subtitle line way too much. You can clearly see that the line appears before anyone actually says anything, and this issue persists throughout the rest of clips I'll be showing. Obviously, this is something you can manually fix and is rather simple.

Also, Whisper seems to not care about pauses within a sentence. Hanae laughs, causing him to not complete his sentence smoothly, however Whisper doesn't take that into account. This ties into the next clip.

CLIP 4

In this next clip above, there are no mistakes. I would say that Whisper did a pretty good job here correctly translating what was said, and there's not really much to complain about.

However, I would like to note that Whisper lacks a sense of "spice" to all of its outputs. I can't say, "It's almost as if a machine made this", because well... a machine basically did. Whisper lacks that special feeling that a human took their time to think about and translate each line. It is quite literally robotic at times.

CLIP 5

So in this clip above, you can clearly tell that the issues I mentioned earlier are all kind of compounded.

The timing of the subtitle line is way too early.

"He's not doing anything." is not what Nakuramura said.

Whisper completely ignored what Sugita said.

CLIP 6

In this final clip from the show, I'd like to include it because what's happening on screen is just kind of funny.

Whisper mistakes Hanae saying すね毛 (sunege), which means leg hair, for the word "sneaky".

I would like to praise Whisper for properly indentifying that Sugita is the one actually controlling the character in this clip though. Japanese is a language where simply saying a verb can be considered as gramatically correct, which means that they can leave out pronouns like "I".

PIKA CLIP

Let's look at a clip that includes both human translation and Whisper translation. This clip was made by Pika Can't Sub, a fellow seiyuu fansubber and the one who originally linked the reddit post I mentioned earlier. They set up Whisper locally on their PC and tested it out themselves.

In the clip above, the WHISPER translated subtitles are the white ones on the top, and Pika's manual translation on the bottom. You can clearly see that Whisper is REALLY GOOD. Both Whisper's and Pika's translations work really well and there's practically little to no unnatural English.

One thing to note here is that this is appears to be a Japanese news show. Narrators must speak very clearly in order to convey the informaton to the viewers, so that probably helped by making it far easier for Whisper to accurately pick up on what was said.

Comparing Whisper to Other Audio Transcribers

YouTube's Auto-Captions Feature

With my limited test of Whisper I would say it is far, FAR, more accurate compared to YouTube's auto-captions. I'm sure most of you reading this blog have at least used YouTube's auto-captions feature before. Whenever you're watching on YouTube that doesn't have manually added captions, you can turn on this feature. It will transcribe what is spoken in the video, and can even automatically translate it to your desired language.

The biggest downside is that this feature tends to make mistakes, and I mean A LOT of mistakes. In my opinion, it works pretty well for English, but for other languages such as Japanese it tends to be really iffy. Mileage may vary. When using YouTube's auto-captions feature to translate from English to Japanese or the other way around, you'll most likely get very unnatural and odd translations.

If you've ever studied a foreign language before, you'll also know that languages like English and German drastically different from languages like Japanese and Korean. I believe that's the reason why so much gets lost in translation when using machine translation like YouTube's auto-captions. Sometimes the top comment on a YouTube video is just about laughing at the mistakes that the auto-captions makes.

It's almost as if Google Translate was just slapped onto YouTube and they called it a day.

Adobe's Speech to Text for Premiere Pro

I will using the video I created above as a reference for this section~

You may have also heard of Adobe's "Speech to Text" for Premiere Pro. Like YouTube's auto-captions and OpenAI's Whisper, it uses AI technology to transcribe human speech into text. As far as I'm aware though, Adobe's version does not have any translation feature, and also has a far more limited amount of languages that it can transcribe. In my personal opinion, it is far better than YouTube's auto-captions. Since Premiere Pro is a software application for video editing, the Speech to Text integration is really nice. One major downside is that this Adobe feature, along with the rest of their suite, is not free and you have to pay a monthly subscription just to use it.

Like Whisper, you give the AI an audio file that it will read. The AI will then spend a certain amount of time, which varies depending on the length of the audio file, and then spit out the transcription of what you originally fed it. What's nice about Adobe's Speech to Text is that you can literally select it word for word and it'll start playing the timeline from the exact point the AI picked up that word. With Whisper, it only gives you a completed file with timestamps. I believe Whisper gives you an SRT file and that's about it.

My Experience With Adobe's AI

The video is a snippet that I translated and edited from the Bocchi the Radio!, which is the official radio for the TV anime Bocchi the Rock!. The speakers in this clip are the voice actresses for Gotoh Hitori and Yamada Ryou. In this particular episode, 青山吉能 (Aoyama Yoshino) AKA Yoppii, has just physically moved away from her microphone in the studio in order to grab the mail that they have received from listeners of the radio. She is now rushing back to her seat and trying to make it in time to read the segment title and explanation before the music ends. You can also hear 水野朔 (Mizuno Saku) AKA Sakupi, laughing as she is confused as to why Yoppii is frantically running around the studio.

Adobe's version is definitely not perfect by any means. Below, I have provided a small snippet of the raw output I got from it after giving it a wav file (mp3 files work just fine as well). This is about 0:10 in the YouTube video above.

If you can understand Japanese and English, you can immediately tell there are some discrepancies in what Adobe's AI outputted.

Adobe's Speech to Text Output

Yoppii 「その割合こちらの。」 "Here's the proportion."

Yoppii 「コーナーリスナーさんから用件はこういうことをしているという最新四家情報を送ってもらうコーナーです。」 This is a corner where listeners send us the latest information about the latest four houses that are doing this kind of thing.

My Manual Transcription Fix

Yoppii 「ああああ！！！！間に合え！！」 "AHHHH!!!! MAKE IT IN TIME!!!!"

Yoppii 「こちらのコーナー！リスナーさんから陽キャはこういうことをしているという最新ら陽キャ情報を送ってもらうコーナーです。」 "It's a segment~~! This is a segment where we get listeners to send us the latest extrovert information about how extroverts are doing ____."

For those who don't understand Japanese I'll try to explain some common issues I have with this feature, and elaborate more on the mistakes that the AI has made in this particular case.

One of the many issues I've had with Adobe's Speech to Text feature is that it tends to split lines at an odd place in the sentence. Not quite sure why that is, but I suspect it has to do with how this feature tends to split English speech. Sometimes the AI will spit out a line that is just a huge blob of text and you have to manually split it into multiple lines.

Sometimes Adobe's Speech to Text just leaves out entire words and/or completely transcribes the wrong word. I've noticed this happens whenever there's music that plays at the same time, and/or the audio of the speaker isn't clear. This occurs with YouTube's auto-captions as well and I can't blame it. Error 1: Yoppii is basically doing that fake "AHHHH!!!!" scream, and also yells "MAKE IT IN TIME!!!!" as she tries to get back into her seat in time. The AI obviously did not transcribe this part at all. Error 2: The slang term 陽キャ (you-kya) in Japanese refers to someone who is rather bright, cheerful, and outgoing. I translated it as extrovert in the clip. The AI picked it up as 用件 (you-ken) which means "business; things to be done; errand". It also picked it up a second time as 四家 which is literally four houses lol

In conclusion, with all the bashing I've done on Adobe's Speech to Text feature, I think it's actually really great. The particular example I showed above is usually a tough one for most AI/machine transcribers anyway. It ends to do really well, and far better than what YouTube's auto-captions usually outputs. Although I still have to manually retime all the subtitle lines and manually fix transcription errors, this AI has been an amazing tool in bringing my content creation to the next level.

I would say as a fansubber, timing all the subtitle lines is one of the most time consuming parts of the process, aside from actually translating all the lines. With Adobe's Speech to Text, it actually speeds up the process. With all the AI I've used so far, which isn't just limited to transcribing and translating AI, I've realized that they're best used as a sort of launching pad. With Adobe's Speech to Text, it gives me a rough mold (starting point) and then I can reshape it to how I want, which is a lot faster than starting with nothing at all.

Some other things that make Adobe's Speech to Text feature better than OpenAI's Whisper

You can choose whether or not to distuingish between mulitple speakers, and you can even manually rename or add more if you like.

After the trancription process is done, you can even convert all of it to captions. Since Premiere Pro 2022, Adobe has added a dedicated captions layer and other updates to make the editing process a better experience. I personally don't use this, because I tend to split each line in a very specific manner that's not possible with the current settings.

I also used Adobe's Speech to Text to help me create this video below.

Please check out the rest of my YouTube channel~

DeepL Translator

I'd like to just mention DeepL really quick. Like Google Translate, you can give it some text in one language and it will translate to one of the many other languages that are available. I would say DeepL gives far better translations than Google Translate.

DeepL also tends to do really well when translating single sentences. It is pretty good at keeping the nuances and that special human "spice" in slang. That's just my experience with Japanese to English and English to Japanese though.

Unfortunately, DeepL doesn't seem to have a video/audio transcription model or service. That means you would have to manually input each sentence if you were to do a video, and that would an absolute pain. DeepL does seem to have a feature that allows you to upload word documents and PDF files, but I have not tested that out.

Final Thoughts

If you actually read this far, you are a mad man and I truly appreciate you for taking time out of your day to do so. Thank you so much.

How should I conclude this blog...?

To put it simply, this is a game changer.

I started using Adobe's Speech to Text around the end of 2022, and at the time I thought it was an absolute game changer. I had seen some posts about OpenAI's Whisper on TikTok, but didn't think it would be better than Adobe's model. However, after doing some research and writing this blog, I think Whisper might be just as good, if not better than Adobe's. Of course, YouTube's Auto-Captions doesn't even compare. As for DeepL, I would say DeepL is way better for adding in that human "spice" and sounding naturally. Unfornatutely as of writing this blog, DeepL doesn't seem to be working on any video transcription service (that I'm aware of).

So is OpenAI's Whisper worth looking into and using it yourself? ABSOLUTELY. It's open-source, which means its free and the results it gives are without a doubt one of the best out there. AI such as Whisper aren't quite developed enough to completely replace transcribers and translators such as myself just yet, but I'm not sure how much longer until it will. As of right now, these types of AI can be used as a very powerful tool to accelerate your work and actually provide positive changes!

I can't wait to see how much further AI will improve within the next couple years!

Please check out the rest of my channel! I create japanese voice actor (seiyuu) subbed content, mainly on YouTube!

[the-letter-horror-lover]

90%

BuruRaven

Summary:

“I don’t recall any power overriding clauses in our agreed contract.”

The demon sobered immediately. There was a long pause during which they both looked into each other’s eyes with equally intense poker faces. Sebastian uncharacteristically seemed to be at a loss for words.

“I wonder how many non-specified exceptions are there to our agreement.”, Ciel stated in a conversational tone of voice, “Like you trying to consume my soul before conceding my wish.”

Sebastian frowned.

“I have never…”

He blinked. Suddenly, his expression softened.

This fic was originally posted on my tumblr on July 6th, 2015, here.

Notes:

Disclaimer: I don’t own Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler. Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler is the property of Yana Toboso, and is not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this, nor will any be sought. This is for entertainment purposes only.

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

A short intake of breath in the darkness and soon the boy was quietly seating up in the middle of his huge four post bed. No nightmare had forced him into consciousness, only the uncomfortable feeling of darkness engulfing him. He imagined it this time, but he could not forget the searing, familiar, hungry darkness, crawling over his limbs, trying to reach his mortgaged core a bit too soon.

Never had Ciel feared that darkness. Sometimes, he actually longed for it to come and end him. What was leaving the young earl on edge, especially in his lighter stages of sleep, was the treason of his soul’s almost theft. Ciel had never truly trusted the demon but, until the recent events in Germany, he had trusted that Sebastian would always respect their contract above all. Now, he wasn’t so sure.

Don’t kid me. You’re the one I can trust the least.

Ciel looked through a small uncovered space between the curtains of his window. Outside, the clear starry sky of a spring night, eerily illuminated by a glaring full moon, dripped over the quiet building and its surrounding grounds.

Quietly, the boy got out of bed. He needed some milk, but he didn’t want to call for Sebastian. So, he would do something he hadn’t done in a long while - pay a visit to the kitchen.

Walking barefoot through the dark, cold corridors of the sleeping manor, Ciel fully expected Sebastian to pop out at every corner and sarcastically inquire about his quest and attire. He knew the demon was awake and most probably perfectly aware of what Ciel was doing. Right now, the advantage of that part of their connection felt suffocating, like the dark embrace at the Green Witch’s. Ciel absentmindedly fiddled with his nightgown’s collar. A self-preservation instinct was trying to arise from deep inside, inciting him to find a way to insure the demon’s compliance with their contract. But Ciel had always known he could never fully control the creature. All the power the earl had over the demon was but a temporary illusion and Ciel had always been perfectly aware of that. He would never admit it, but maybe an obscure, naïve part of him had tried to believe otherwise, especially after the events at the Campania… How shamefully foolish of him.

In the kitchen, clearly illuminated by the moonlight coming in through the short and wide windows near the ceiling, the oven was still slightly warm to the touch. Ciel wondered if Bard or Sebastian had been cooking something beforehand for next day’s luncheon. A shiver run through him when he remembered that Sieglinde and Lizzie would be meeting each other for the first time then.

The boy looked around himself and sighed irritably. He had no idea where the milk might be. Trying to be quiet about it, Ciel opened some of the cupboards he could easily reach, but his search came out fruitless.

“Where is it?”, he murmured to himself.

Mindful of the need to make as little noise as possible, the boy used a chair to try and reach the taller cupboards. All that those cupboards held were glasses. If only they had cups, at least… He stretched further in his precarious perch on top of the battered chair to try and take a better look at the tallest shelf of the cupboard, but the thing creaked ominously, giving a little under his feet. Ciel lost his balance momentarily and almost fell, regaining composure at the last second. The earl exhaled a small sigh of relief and stared reproachfully at the chair under him, deciding that tomorrow he would have it burn.

Suddenly the boy remembered that milk came in glass bottles that were stashed in metal crates. Wouldn’t those be kept at ground level? He took a careful look around, noticing what could very well be a metal crate by the sink. On approaching it, though, the thing ended up being what looked like three cooling racks on top of each other.

An instinctive wish to call for Sebastian was starting to arise from his milk-driven frustration, but Ciel strong-headedly stomped on it.

He decided to give up on the milk and simply drink a glass of water from the water jug standing unsuspectingly on the counter top. He came closer to his new goal but… there was no glass in sight for him to pour the water into. His eyes slid upwards to the tall cupboard full of glasses he had so difficultly opened just some minutes ago. Then, they slid to the untrustworthy chair and a protuberant vein angrily pulsated on his temple. Exasperated, Ciel turned to return to his bedroom, where Sebastian always kept a glass of water for him on the nightstand, should he need it during the night.

“Nightmares, Young Master?”, came a familiar deep voice from behind him.

Ciel turned on his heels, trying to hide his surprise as he saw Sebastian standing right where he had been just seconds ago, beside the water jug.

“No. I just wanted some milk.”, he answered truthfully.

Sebastian cocked his head to the side.

“Why didn’t you call for me?”

“I felt like walking.”

Sebastian’s eyes flashed red.

“Barefoot?”

“This is my house, I walk around it like I very well please.”, Ciel answered irritably.

Sebastian smirked.

“Why don’t you go back to your room, Young Master? I will take the milk upstairs in a minute.”

Ciel hesitated. His mouth opened and closed.

His eyes slid to Sebastian’s shadow, stretching through the kitchen floor towards him. Without thinking, he took a step backwards. His hand flew to his uncovered right eye. He had forgotten the eyepatch upstairs. His hand dropped as he tried to rein in on the recollection of the uncomfortable smothering feeling Sebastian’s shadow had just provoked in him. When he looked up again to give Sebastian some bratty reply, the demon’s face stood at eye level, just a few centimeters from his own.

“Is there something the matter, Young Master?”, he asked with a mischievous smile. His gloved hand lightly touched the cheek under Ciel’s marked eye. Ciel moodily batted it away.

He had to distract him. In no circumstance could he ever show weakness to Sebastian.

“Is there some sort of social hierarchy to your kind?”, Ciel blurted suddenly.

Sebastian blinked.

“I beg your pardon?”

Ciel tsked impatiently.

“Is there some kind of social construct or organization in the demon society? Is there even such a thing as a society? Or are you just disconnected beasts, all roaming about aimlessly?”

The demon stared at him inexpressively. Somehow, Ciel felt like Sebastian knew full well Ciel was trying to distract him. Strangely enough - or actually, maybe not strangely at all -, after a pause, he seemed to decide to play along.

“Even you must know there is a king.”, he stated calmly.

“Yes. But what are all the others? Minions? Are you all equals?”

“No.” Sebastian raised to his full height and smiled innocently down at Ciel. “Maybe we should end this conversation elsewhere.”, he beatifically suggested.

Ciel raised a questioning eyebrow at Sebastian’s sudden demeanor - which looked somewhat disturbing on him - and discreetly looked around the empty kitchen. No one could be seen.

“Wha-…?”

A snake quietly slithered through the doorway and towards the still slightly warm oven. Oh.

“Well, bring the milk to my room. And be quick about it.”, Ciel haughtily requested as he walked out of the kitchen.

Chapter 2

Chapter Text

“So…?”, Ciel promptly asked after sipping once at his milk with honey. He held the cup on top of his bent knees, ignoring the tray dish on which Sebastian had carried the cup upstairs.

The butler grasped both hands to the little tray dish and held them elegantly behind his back, standing by the bed.

“We are not all equals. There is a social hierarchy, even though it is less based on our material possessions or bloodline - like in the human world - and more on our relative power, seniority and original form.”, he explained.

“And I take it fallen angels are the oldest and most powerful?”, Ciel interjected.

“Correct. Minions, like you called them, are the lowest on our rankings, they originate from twisted human souls, usually kept from procedural soul processing due to some unnatural event, rotten so deeply they cannot be consumed. They also cannot take a form of their own in the human world, therefore they usually resort to possession.”

“You are not a minion.”, Ciel stated matter-of-factly. Sebastian had a body of his own.

“No. I am what you would understand better as an earl.”, the butler replied with an amused tone of voice.

Ciel took another sip from his cup, positioning himself more comfortably on the bed. Black feathers and high heels permeated the back of his memory.

“But your liege doesn’t seem to exert any active power over your activity, like mine does…”, he stated with a thoughtful expression, “Do you follow his orders?”

“If he sends them my way.”

“And they supplant mine?”

“Naturally.”, Sebastian replied with a little chuckle.

Ciel laid back against his pillows with a sigh. He was getting sleepy. Suddenly, he remembered what had made him walk downstairs that night instead of calling for Sebastian.

“I don’t recall any power overriding clauses in our agreed contract.”

The demon sobered immediately. There was a long pause during which they both looked into each other’s eyes with equally intense poker faces. Sebastian uncharacteristically seemed to be at a loss for words.

“I wonder how many non-specified exceptions are there to our agreement.”, Ciel stated in a conversational tone of voice, “Like you trying to consume my soul before conceding my wish.”

Sebastian frowned.

“I have never…”

He blinked. Suddenly, his expression softened. So that’s what this is about.

“I was only 90% serious.”

Ciel tsked.

“As per contract, you really could not.”

Sebastian chuckled again. Ciel simulated a kick in the butler’s general direction. This was a serious conversation.

“I was 90% serious about dragging you out of the state you were in, the way Tanaka had sagely advised me to.”, he smirked.

Ciel smirked back.

“Maybe you had a bit too much fun at it.”, Ciel stated mockingly-reproachfully.

Something akin to relief permeated his chest. He took another slow sip from his cup while trying to make sense of his emotions. He knew he could never fully trust the demon, but trusting their contract was really the only thing he had most days. Ciel suddenly felt much less tense by Sebastian’s presence. He was also feeling increasingly sleepier. Still, he had to ask.

“What were the other 10%, then?”

“Failing to drag you out.”

“Eating me then would still not satisfy the parameters of the contract.”, Ciel quipped usefully, while discreetly rubbing his drooping eyelid. He suppressed a yawn.

“If I had failed to bring you back, you would most probably succumb, as you were injured and weren’t even eating. Once you were dead, the contract would be void. I could still have your soul, like I could any body-less soul, outside of any contract.”, Sebastian explained quietly. As long as I was fast enough to grab it before the Shinigami did. And, believe me, My Lord, I would. He discreetly licked his lips.

Ceil’s tired eyes closed and opened sluggishly.

The butler reached for the almost empty cup still in his master’s loose grip and rearranged the covers so they would be more snuggle-y around his sleepy charge. Ciel sighed softly.

“Is it anything like what you did to me? Eating a soul?”, he asked in a sleep-garbled murmur.

“No. It is nothing like that.”, Sebastian murmured back. It’s worse.

“Good… that was unpleasant…”

Ciel’s eyes closed and his breathing pattern slowed and deepened. Satisfied, Sebastian left his master’s side, softly closing the bedroom door after himself.

[stayarmytinyzenmoa-l]

Prominence [WCh. 2.46]

Social Media AU ; Idol AU ; Added Unit AU CW/TW: Language Genre: Comedy, Romance Pairing: NCT x Idol!Reader, Seonghwa x Reader Y/N Pronouns: Female (She/Her) Word Count: 4.1K

(46/80) [First] | [Previous] | [Next] [NCT Masterlist] | [Other Groups Masterlist] | [Prominence S1 Masterlist] | [Prominence S2 Masterlist]

Notes: I was debating on posting this but... fuck it. Better sooner than later, more time for me to develop things hehe Disclaimer: Please remember that this is an AU and a work of fiction, obviously the idols mentioned/written about in this story would never partake in these actions. The idols mentioned in this work are meant to be seen more as face claims rather than the actual idols themselves.

Feedback is greatly appreciated!! Thank you for reading!

20 February 2022

Everything felt hazy.

His vision blurred and his ears ringing, it was a strange experience and all he was doing was slumping against a bench. The side of his face was pressed up against the cold glass of the bar window with one leg was extended across the bench and the other stretched out off the side. He was so tired. Where did Yunho go? Or Yangyang for that matter? He could've sworn he was just getting into the taxi before someone dragged him out and placed him on a bench.

Maybe he was dreaming. He'd just close his eyes and wake up in the dorms, hopefully. Yes, definitely. He was ready to have the best sleep of his life. Tour's back on track, ATEEZ's career is going well, his relationship's fixed and on temporary hold. Life's great. He'll probably call you tomorrow, catch up on things, maybe he'd get to see Mars again, hm, he can hear him barking away now. His face began to heat up, thoughts of you bouncing around his head. He's so glad. You're both talking again, you're both on good terms again, he just has to wait for a few more months and it'll be like you never broke up in the first place.

But... he still has a few things to tell you. He has to apologize for that text still. He still can't believe he typed it out, what the hell was he thinking? Treating you like that? He'd hate him too.

"Wow... I really lucked out with her..." he mumbles. He truly did. And he had yet to tell you about what Juliet had on her phone. Oh, no, his head was spinning, just thinking about it all stressed him out so much. He just got you back, is he ready to risk it all again?

He had to tell you.

He wished you were here.

"Seonghwa?" It was like he could hear you anywhere if he put his mind to it. "What are you doing here?" Your voice is what convinced him to pry his eyes open again. Still, the world was fuzzy around the edges, but you were in full focus. The ringing came to a stop, and all he could see and hear was you. A small smile settled on his face.

"You're here," his words slurred together and your brows furrowed.

"Hey, Park Seonghwa!" Despite the sternness in your voice, it was still soft. "I thought you went home."

"I am home..." he mutters. Your shoulders slumped.

"You're literally passed out against a bar window, Hwa, this isn't home. In fact, you are far from it."

"Home... is wherever you are..." his eyes slip closed again and he hears you sigh. He'll tell you in a bit, he's so tired right now.

"Geez... hold on, okay?" You moved his leg and sat next to him on the bench. "Come on... pick up..." you mumbled.

"(Y/N)!" He heard Yangyang's voice over the phone. "Surprise~"

"How much did you drink, jackass?!" Seonghwa snickered, you could be so cute when you're angry.

"Like... two...?"

"Two shots...?"

"Two... two-teen?"

"Oh my god... well you and Yunho left Seonghwa here."

"No, no, that was intentional."

"What do you mean 'intentional'?!"

"I dunno, it was Yunho's idea."

"So you just left him in the cold, on his own, in public- Oh my god, you're impossible when you drink." Seonghwa felt something drape over him. He opened his eyes slightly. Looks like his coat, that's weird, he handed that to you earlier.

Oh, wait, you're right in front of him. He chuckled to himself and shut his eyes again.

"You're the one to talk! You cling onto the closest person to you like a koala and you won't let up until you pass out!"

"That's not true!"

"Yes it is..." Seonghwa mumbles.

"Shh, don't encourage him," your voice continued. "At least tell me you're at the ATEEZ dorms."

"Yeah, yup, mmhmm. 'Cept Yunho's getting lectured by Jonghoong now."

"Hongjoong."

"That's what I said."

"Okay, well, I'm coming to drop Seonghwa off and pick you up, so you'd best prepare yourself because I swear I'm gonna give you a piece of my mind, we have an early schedule tomorrow, are you out of your mind?! It's midnight! It's midnight and I'm going to have to deal with your complaining tomorrow-"

"Yes, I'm out of my mind. I set my three-year crush back up with her fairy tale boyfriend who's so head over heels for her he stayed in his room for two weeks straight while she repeatedly cried 'Love is over!' 'I was a horrible girlfriend!' 'I will never date again!' and, my personal favorite, 'my super hot boyfriend, oh shit, ex-boyfriend, is gone for-."

"Okay, stop!" You groaned.

"Don't listen to him, you're a good girlfriend, bestest ever," Seonghwa yawns. "And I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere," he shakes his head.

"I know, honey, I know, and I need to get you home," you squeezed his leg and returned to the call. "But... You stayed in your room for two weeks straight?" He felt you grab his hand and squeeze it before letting go.

"Mmhmm..." He moves his hand around his lap absently, looking for yours to hold. When he doesn't find it, his arm drapes over his chest instead.

You must hate him.

His lips tugged into a frown.

"Geez... Was Hongjoong even allowed in?"

"Uhh... dunno, just heard from Seoyang."

"Yeosang."

"That's what I said."

"Oh my god... you're going to get us fired. When you're hungover during schedule tomorrow don't cry to me," you grumbled. Seonghwa assumed you hung up the phone. "Okay, I need you to cooperate with me here," you placed your hand on his shoulder and squeezed it. He opened one eye to look at it.

"Hm?"

"I don't know if this is going to work... I'll just drive extra slow," you muttered. You pulled one of his arms over your shoulder and slowly guided him to the motorcycle. "Are you awake yet? Seonghwa?"

"Yeah."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Because I'm going to need you to hold onto me, yeah? I don't want you to fall off."

"Okay, I can do that," he nods his head up and down, the world beginning to spin when you held the sides of his face.

"Don't do that, you're going to make yourself sick," you said. "And as much as I like you," you like him. Seonghwa's lips tugged into a smile again, "I will never forgive you if you throw up on me," you finished.

"Okay," he nods his head slightly now. You climb onto the seat first and hand him the helmet, once he was ready he climbed behind you, essentially slumping his weight on you and holding you close.

"Alright, ready?"

"Mmhmm," he hums against your shoulder. You revved the engine. "Wait!"

"What?" Your shoulders tensed. He didn't mean to frighten you.

"Nothing, I just love you."

"Oh my..." Whatever you said next was masked by the engine. You pulled his arms tighter around you and took off, slowly, of course. He looked around, the city lights molding together and the chatters muting. He was tired, his eyes heavy. But you said not to sleep, he had to hold on. When would be the next time he gets to have you this close anyway? Your helmets knock together and he groans.

"Great... another obstacle..." He sighs. It's like the world's against you two.

"Huh?" He didn't answer, just tightening his arms instead. This was nice, he liked this. He sighed, leaning more of his weight against you. He liked this, he missed it. It was so cold, but you were so warm. If he could make this moment last forever he would. When was the last time he held you like this? He's made so many mistakes, so many, when was the last time he held you like this? He couldn't remember, but to be fair, he couldn't remember how many drinks he's had either.

Much too soon, you pulled over again, pulling your key out of the engine.

"Seonghwa, we're here," you said. "Hwa, you... you can let go now."

"Five more minutes."

"That's not how this works, Hwa," your voice was still as soft as it was earlier, "we have to get you inside."

"No..." He holds you closer, if that was even possible.

"I'm going to need backup, aren't I?" You muttered. He could hear the dial tone from your phone.

"(Y/N)! Hyung was just about to call you, your friend's here!"

"Yeah, I know. I have Seonghwa with me and I'm outside, can you give me a hand, San?"

"You have San's number?" Seonghwa asks.

"I have all of your numbers," you answered.

"Oh, shit, is he as hammered as Yunho and Yangyang are?!"

"Probably? I just need some help getting him up, yeah? He doesn't want to let me go."

"I don't blame him."

"Hey! I can hear you, Choi San!" Seonghwa leans forward, trying to speak into the phone.

"Yeah, yeah, I hear you, hyung. I'll be right down, (Y/N). Want me to bring Yangyang?"

"If you can, I'd appreciate it. But if not I'll just come back up with you."

"San you'd better not be trying to steal my girlfriend!" The sentence was just barely understandable.

"Oh, god, he really is drunk. If he was sober he'd never say that out loud, haha! I'll be right down."

"Seonghwa, come on, let's get you inside," you tried to encourage him again. "It's cold out, it's so you don't get sick."

"But if I let go..." he squeezes you. "I won't be able to hold you like this again..." Again, your shoulders relaxed.

"Just a few more months," you muttered.

"Exactly..." he responds. Somehow, you pry his arms off of you and climb off the bike. You held onto his hand and tried to tug him off the seat. "No."

"What do you mean 'no'?!"

"I don't want to."

"I wonder if I'm this difficult when I'm drunk," you sighed.

"Never fear, Choi San is here!" Seonghwa whipped his head to the side and San walks out of the complex.

"You've got coffee spilled all over you!" Seonghwa's eyes go wide.

"I know," you responded. "Think you can help me out here?" You turn to San.

"I got it," he walks over to Seonghwa. "Hyung, we gotta go, Hongjoong's going to flip if you don't come inside."

"No, no, I don't want to," he shakes his head again.

"Why not?" You and San both ask.

"Because... if I go inside... I have to wait a few months to be with (Y/N) again..." he crosses his arms.

"Oh my god, this is rich," San bellows. "Yangyang should've come down with me, he'd eat this up!" He laughs.

"That too!" Seonghwa points at particularly nothing. "That... that guy... ugh... gave me so many headaches back then, he's going to give me more now," his speech slows down and his head starts nodding off.

"Think we should just wait for him to pass out," you ask.

"Nah," San takes his phone out. "Hyung, I'm serious, we should go upstairs."

"No..." he shakes his head again. San looks at you. He places his hand on your shoulder.

"If you don't come upstairs with us right now, I'll take (Y/N) on a date," San smirks.

"No! Absolutely not! Are you insane? Why would you do that?" Seonghwa stumbles off the motorcycle, slowly making his way to the entrance of the dorms and pushing on the door that clearly says 'pull.'

"I should've done that first," you snapped your fingers.

"Always works, as soon as we mention you this guy is on it," San laughs. "Alright, let's go." You walk past Seonghwa and pull open the door for him. San, meanwhile, leans Seonghwa's body against his so that he could have support. You both enter the elevator.

"I hope Yangyang hasn't been too much of a problem," you say.

"Eh, he's been fine. He's filling us in on all the details right now, drunk, of course, but it's kind of interesting," San says. "Before I came down he was just telling us about how he'd been pining for you since 2018."

"Oh my god, that's so embarrassing..."

"You should see him! He's more embarrassed than you, we didn't have time to tease him because he started begging Yeosang to let him back into the Investigation Team group chat," he chuckles, but then quickly stops when he realizes what he said.

"It's okay, I know about it. Mark told me," you reassured him.

"Cool, even better. What did you think about my theories?"

"They were way far from the truth, but I appreciate the creativity," you laughed. Like music to his ears, Seonghwa absently reached for your hand. But when you crossed your arms over your chest instead, he could only pout.

"Wish Wooyoung was here to see it, though, that guy would've gone feral laughing as hard as we are," he says.

"Where's Wooyoung? I was looking forward to seeing him."

"He went out with a friend, he should be on his way back soon though," San says. The elevator opens and you walk into the next hall, the ATEEZ dorm in sight. The sound of the other members laughing was barely audible.

"I swear he'd better not be saying shit about me, he knows too much," you snickered.

"I'm sure it's all good things." The sound of keys against a lock and then a door opening. The sounds of everyone's voices got louder. "The missing member has returned!" San announced. Seonghwa smiled, they all care about him.

"(Y/N)! Our missing ninth member! Thank god! The world is healing!" Mingi shouts. Seonghwa frowns. They don't care about him.

"Tatertot! It's been so long I forgot what you sounded like!" Yeosang cries.

"Aww, come on, I was just one phone call away," you said. "Hey, is Hongjoong here?"

"Yeah, he's in his room," Yeosang answered. "Yunho and Yangyang are there too."

"Got it, I'm just going to do a switcheroo and be out of your hairs."

"No! Stay! This is the most relaxed we've seen hyung since the whole thing," Jongho insists.

"Aw, I'm sorry guys, I have a schedule tomorrow morning, I'll come visit soon, Seonghwa will explain things when he's sober, I'm sure," you continued. Seonghwa wanted to add on, really, he did, but for some reason he was too tired to even walk right. San readjusted his grip on him and they started walking again, even the voices around him seemed to mute out. Soon, he was placed in his bed, or what he assumes to be his bed, and everything felt comfortable, too comfortable. He dozed off as soon as he felt someone run their hands through his hair.

~

"Hongjoong, hey," you nodded your head to him once San pulled the door open. He was seated at his desk with Yunho and Yangyang standing in front of him. San sat Seonghwa down on his bed and the latter collapsed against the pillow, passing out immediately. "Poor guy, doesn't even have the energy to change into something more comfy," you shook your head.

"Hey, (Y/N), long time no see, here to grab this guy, right?" Hongjoong motions to Yangyang, who sends you a small wave. Looks like he's sobered up a bit before you entered.

"Yeah, but, I wanted to talk to you too, actually," you admitted. "I wanted to apologize to you," you stood between Yunho and Yangyang. "I'm sorry for causing so much trouble to you all, it really wasn't my intention, but intentions have nothing to do with effects, right?"

"Apology accepted," Hongjoong stands up. "Are you two okay now?"

"Wait... just like that?" You ask.

"Of course? What, do you want me to make you pay for dinner or something?" Hongjoong laughs. "I'm just glad you and Seonghwa made amends, this is the first time he's looked so peaceful while asleep," he points to Seonghwa. "Honestly, he told me everything from his end, and to me it sounded like a series of unfortunate and unpredictable events. What matters now is that you talked things through, and you can begin to move on from it all," he says. You hear sniffling next to you and you look at Yunho, who wipes a tear from his eye.

"Yunho? Why are you crying?" You ask.

"It's just... it's so moving," the tears slip down his red-tinted face. Next to you, Yangyang sniffles too and you and Hongjoong both sigh.

"And you?" You ask.

"I just lost ₩120,000..." he frowns.

"What?!"

"Mark bet me that you'd be getting back together with Seonghwa and I bet against it," he groaned. "I just remembered that bet now," he frowns.

"And here I thought you cared," you teased him and rolled your eyes. "Oh well, what can be done, right? I'll see you both soon," you said. "Yangyang, let's go."

"Yes, ma'am," he follows behind you, head hanging low.

"Bye, (Y/N)! Drive safe!" Jongho calls out.

"I will!" You waved goodbye and walked out, Yangyang in tow. You were both quiet for a while, but you couldn't stop your curiosity. Once you were both in the elevator, you spoke up. "Yangyang."

"(Y/N)?"

"Why did you try so hard to get me and Hwa back together?" You leaned against the back wall of the elevator. Yangyang just points at your reflection on the metal doors of the elevator.

"You're smiling," he says. "Last time you had that resting face was when you were dating. After you broke up, you either looked sad or pissed all the time so... figured I'd at least try to help you out," he says. You looked at your reflection now, true to his words, your lips were settled in a subtle upturn, and you hadn't realized that they looked like that until now. "Figured I'd do one last good deed before I head back to China, you know?" He shrugs.

"You always act like we're just going to stop being friends when you move out, seriously? I'm still going to nag you nonstop, you know."

"Yeah... I know," he shrugs again. "Just... the dynamic's different, you know?"

"I know, but we still have a whole month together, the three of us."

"Not sure about that."

"Why?"

"I'm about to go on the death machine again while drunk."

"Oh my god, you're not going to die!" You pushed him lightly.

"I had a good life, good fans, good career..."

"You're so dramatic! At least I know you'll sober up soon," you groaned. The three stages of Drunk Yangyang, as you put it. First, untouchable happiness; second, unavoidable honesty; and third, unbearable dramatics. After those three stages he either passes out or sobers up, and you hoped that you'd be at the dorms by the time he hits either of those stages. You both step out of the elevator and he darts off towards the restrooms. "You couldn't have done that up there?!"

"No!" He shuts the door and you complained. You shifted your weight onto one leg and waited for him.

"Oh! Jung (Y/N)!" Wooyoung called your name from the entrance. He waved his hand so you could see him and you waved back. "What are you doing here? I mean, don't get me wrong, I love when you visit, but, like, you know," he rambles.

"I just dropped Seonghwa off. There was a bit of a mixup and somehow Yunho and Yangyang came here instead and left him at the bar, so... yeah," you explained.

"Oh... oh! Does that mean you two are back together?!" His eyes light up.

"Well... not exactly," you shook your head. "We're on good terms now, but we agreed to wait until we're both free to properly restart things," you say.

"So you're both still technically single then?" He asks.

"Yeah, pretty much," you nodded. "Nothing wrong with that though," you quickly added. "Hey, I heard you went out with a friend, how was it? You guys don't usually have time to go out."

"Yeah! Ah, I had so much fun! He's on his way in, actually, it's late and his dorms are pretty far from here so Hongjoong is letting him spend the night, he'll probably head up in a second, but I gotta make sure my room is clean!" He says, knocking the side of his head with his palm. "It was nice seeing you! I'll talk to you later!" He rushes into the elevator and is off.

You glanced toward the hallway, he's been in there for a while, and something told you that he wouldn't be out for a bit either. You should probably at least start the engine so you could get home quicker, you'd just wait for Yangyang outside. You pulled your phone out to check the time while you opened the door, not noticing that you dragged someone with it, and finally realizing it once you walked right into them.

"Whoops!" You exclaimed, dropping your phone and grabbing onto his wrist with one hand and the door frame with the other to catch his fall. "I am so sorry, I should've been paying attention to what I was... doing..." your voice trailed off when you noticed just who it was you ran into. You gasped and your hand slipped for a moment, which he responded to by grabbing onto your wrist instead and you tugged him up without thinking about it, leading him to crash into you this time. He grabs the door frame and holds you steady. "Sorry..." you apologized again.

"Don't worry about it," he laughs. "Are you alright? You look pretty worried," he pulls away from you, and you both step back inside.

"I'm good, sorry for bumping into you, I can't..." you cleared your throat. "Whoa, I could've gotten into so much trouble," you huffed.

"I'm serious, it's fine, you're not hurt, are you? I might've grabbed onto you too hard," he looks down at your wrist.

"Yeah- Wait, no, no it's okay, I'm fine," you waved your hand in front of him and he chuckles.

"I'm glad then, I'm just here because Wooyoung offered, so I'll head up," he says. "He told me to wait outside but it's freaking cold so I figured I'd just wait in front of the dorm until he was ready. Told me he had to ask Hongjoong but I know he's actually shoving everything into his closet right now," he shakes his head. Right as he said it, the elevator opened again and Wooyoung bounded out.

"(Y/N)! You're still here!" He says, but he quickly redirects his attention back to his friend. "Sorry for leaving you outside, just had to do something really quick, ready to head up?" He asks. He looks between you both and knocks the side of his head with his hand again. "Ah! Where are my manners? I don't think you two have ever actually met, huh?"

"I mean, I know of him, at least, hard not to know who he is," you rubbed the back of your neck awkwardly.

"I can say the same about you, actually," he winks at you and you tried to ignore the sudden rush of heat in your face. Wooyoung's eyes dart between you both.

"Anyway... (Y/N), this is my best friend Yeonjun," he says. "Yeonjun, this is my close friend (Y/N)!" He introduces you both properly.

"Well, it's a pleasure to finally meet you, I'm a huge fan of ANiMA," Yeonjun says.

"(Y/N)! I'm ready to go home!" Yangyang stumbles out of the restroom, holding his head in one hand. "I think I've sobered up enough to go on the death machine."

"Quit calling it that! No one's died on it!"

"Yet."

"Ugh, sober my ass," you shook your head. "Sorry to cut this short, but it was nice meeting you too. I'll head out, see you soon, Wooyoung!" You waved at him and Yangyang linked his arm with yours, tugging you out with him.

Yeonjun, meanwhile, stayed for a little while longer, his hands in his pockets and his body leaning back to watch you go. Wooyoung held the door open button on the elevator.

"Hey, let's go!" He says.

"Huh..." he shrugs, letting his gaze linger on the door a while longer before following his friend into the elevator.

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If you want to be added to either tag list or removed just send me a reply to this post, and ask, or a DM and I’ll add you as soon as possible!

[nashibirne]

Gimme Shelter - 7

Here it is, the last chapter of Gimme Shelter. It took me a while to write it, I kinda had a hard time to let Kat and Henry go... I'm going to miss them. I hope you like the ending I chose for these two. If so, please let me know by leaving a comment, reblog or like. Feedback is much appreciated. 💜

Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC (Kat Spencer)

Words: ~ 4.5 k

Summary: Henry has to deal with a personal crisis and he finds shelter with his old rugby mate Sam and his sister Kat. She used to be Henry’s best friend a very long time ago. Will they be able to become friends again or maybe even more? Chapter 7: An important conversation, a celebration and lots of love.

You can find the previous chapters and my other fics on my masterlist!

Warnings: RPF, mention of mental health issues, smut, sex (p in v), vanilla, unprotected sex, nsfw, 18+, fluff

UNBETA'ED! English is not my mother tongue, so expect bad grammar, wrong spelling, chaotic punctuation and clumsy language. All mistakes are mine…

I got a little help with a certain paragraph, thank you so much @sillyrabbit81 for your advice and your support. Love ya 💕

Credits: Pics for the moodboard from Pinterest. Face claims: Kat = Jennifer Connelly

Disclaimer: I don’t know the real Henry Cavill or anyone who's related to him in any way, this is pure fiction and a lot of wishful thinking.

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or removed)

@lunedelorient @inlovewithhisblueeyes @willkatfanfromasia @hell1129-blog @mis-lil-red @agniavateira @kebabgirl67 @omgkatinka @legendarywizarddetective @summersong69 @taebfada @xxxkatxo @artandotherdelights @notabronte @littlefreya @luclittlepond @eldarwen333 @meowpurrbooks @marantha @liliumdream @enchantedbytomandhenry @greensleeves888 @witcherfan @margauxmargaux07 @radaofrivia @m07belzen @a-little-counter-esperanto @starstruckkittyangel @mary-ann84 @sillyrabbit81 @emelinelovesjc @wheretheriversrunintothesea @lam0ureuxq @kingliam2019

Let the grand finale begin....

***********

"There's no need to be nervous, Kat."

Henry gave her a smile before taking a sip of his coffee.

They were sitting at their gate, waiting to board the plane that was going to fly them to Jersey.

"I know", Kat sighed, shaking her head slowly, "but I still am. I haven't seen your family in years, there will be so many people I don't know…"

"And they will love you. Look, Kitty, today is gonna be relaxed. You'll meet my parents, my brothers and their families and that's it. Just a casual dinner. Tomorrow there will be the celebration and I promise you it's gonna be great. My folks know how to party," he winked at her with a grin, "and on Sunday everyone except for my parents will be gone and we have a whole week to relax and just enjoy the island and our time together. Okay?"

"Okay," she smiled at him and took a bite of the muffin she had bought at one of the airport cafes, "I'll try to relax. Just distract me, tell me something... anything."

"That's the text for Instagram. The open letter to my fans and followers."

"Well, actually there's really something I want to talk to you about", Henry said reluctantly. He grabbed his phone and opened his google docs. "I need your opinion on this." He gave her his mobile.

Kat saw that the display showed a long text. "What's that?"

"I see," Kat chewed on her lip, looking him in the eyes, "and you want me to proofread it?"

"I want to know what you think about it."

"Alright. Let's see."

She stared at the words on the screen with a beating heart. Henry had been working on this statement quite a while now and she knew it would include his plans for the future. They had talked about different scenarios but she didn't know what he'd finally decided to do with his life and his work. She was curious but at the same time she was scared because many of these scenarios meant that he was going to leave St. Ives and her life. She took a deep breath and started to read.

The statement was deep and of unabashed openness. The way Henry described what he had gone through in the past year was very touching and she had to fight back tears several times. Relief flooded her when she read that he was asking his fans to give him a little more time to reorientate and that he intended to remain in the background for a little longer, stating that he was very happy at the sanctuary he had found and that good friends had given him shelter. What left her completely amazed was the last paragraph.

"Kal is going to take over your Instagram?"

Henry grinned sheepishly.

"Yeah. For a while. I think it's a good solution. I'm going to post pictures of him with captions that let people know what I'm doing without giving up my privacy until I'm ready to return and face the public again. It's my way of letting my fans be a part of my life although I'm not really present. I want to share what I'm up to but not the way I used to do it. I want to do more than promotion and I want to be more than a thirst trap, Kitty."

"You're much more than that, Hen", she took his hands in hers, looking at him with a frown, "so much more."

He gave her a grateful smile.

"I know that but many people don't and that's my own fault. The way I've presented myself on social media was very one-sided in the last year and it will be interesting to find out how many of my 17 Mio followers still like me when all they'll get to see in the next weeks is my dog. The ones that remain are the ones that count and in the future I want them to see who I am and what's important to me. I have picked three topics I want to concentrate on. First: conversation and protection of species in cooperation with Durrell. Second: mental health, focusing on problems men often face. I want to found a charitable trust that helps and supports men with mental health issues and that raises awareness of that topic. Thirdly: Fitness, because it's such an important part of my life. I want to show how good moving can make you feel but I also want to show the risks of overdoing it and that even very fit people can still have body issues and how I deal with these issues myself."

"First of all I think the statement you want to post is great. It's so sincere and you open up so much... It's a risk because you expose yourself but I think people will appreciate your honesty and I'm sure many can identify with what you've been through. And your plans sound fantastic, Henry. I know how important these topics are to you and you're going to be a great ambassador for all of this because it's authentic. This is you, people will notice and appreciate that." She couldn't help but give him a spontaneous hug. "God, Henry, I'm so happy for you."

Henry let out a sigh and shrugged, looking at Kat with an expression full of doubt and insecurity.

"What do you think?"

He hugged her back, pulling her into a tight embrace. "That's such a relief, Kat. I was worried it might sound stupid."

"Not a bit! It sounds perfect. But what about work? Do you already know where to go with your job?"

He took a deep breath.

"Yes. I want to return to filming but I want to leave my comfort zone a bit and try to get different kinds of roles. I'll have to talk to my agent and hope that he can find some interesting projects for me. I also thought about going on the stage again. Back to the roots, maybe I will find a theater that is willing to give me a chance. But that's just an idea, I'm open to anything. I just know for sure that I love my job. I want to be an actor and I'm ready to work again."

"And you will work again. I'm sure. Are you going to tell your family about your plans?"

"Sure. It will be a great relief for them to see that I'm back on track."

"Of course. It's a relief for me too."

"I know…"

They were interrupted by the announcement that boarding was about to start and so they got on the plane, heading to Jersey with a pretty good feeling.

****

36 hours later Kat was still feeling pretty good. The garden party was in full swing and she really enjoyed the jolly atmosphere, the food, the drinks and most of all Henry's company. His family had given her a very warm welcome and so she had a very good time. The garden was beautifully decorated and lit by countless torches, candles and chinese lanterns. A local band was playing cover songs on a little stage and a clown was entertaining the children.

It was almost midnight when Henry turned to her with a smile.

"Time for the big surprise."

"Can't wait. You've been such a mystery-monger lately."

"I know, but you'll soon know why."

"Well, you want to surprise your mum. Isn't that the reason?" Kat was visibly confused and Henry gave her one of his perfectly imperfect winks.

"My mum and...you. Maybe?"

He went away with a grin and left Kat with a beating heart. What kind of surprise could he possibly have for her? On his mother's birthday? She smoothened out her plain black dress with a nervous gesture before she followed Henry with her eyes, her arms resting on the cocktail table right in front of the stage. When he grabbed the microphone, Kat assumed he wanted to hold a speech, maybe telling his family and friends about his future plans but when he turned to the band leader for a whispered exchange she knew there was more to it. Henry nodded at each of the band members and Kat could tell he was nervous by his body language.

"Hello everyone," his deep voice echoed through the speakers, "I'm sorry to interrupt, I know everyone is having a great time and don't worry, I'm not going to bore you with a speech, but I still have prepared a little something. A surprise."

He flashed a bright smile at his mother, ignoring the teasing cheers and whistles coming from his brothers.

"Mum, I racked my brain over a special present for weeks. What would make you happy? What would surprise you? Eventually I had this idea I knew you'd love but that really got me out of my comfort zone. I worked hard on it and I hope you and everybody else will like the result." Henry cleared his throat with a sheepish smile.

"Come on man, spill it." That was Henry's younger brother Charlie and Kat couldn't help but chuckle when his older brother Simon joined in.

"Yeah, Hen, the suspense is killing us."

Henry shook his head, laughing and Marianne Cavill shushed her sons with an amused smile.

"Okay, well... I'm going to sing for you."

"Oh please, spare us. You can't sing." Charlie again, he'd always been a cheeky guy and obviously he hadn't changed a bit. Henry laughed out loud, pointing his finger at Charles.

"Right, brother, that's why I took lessons. I spent many, many hours at our neighbour's who is a vocal coach. Kat is my witness."

All eyes turned on her now and she couldn't give them much more than a shrug, a nod and a smile to confirm his words. She wasn't able to say anything, but her mind was racing. He had been taking singing lessons with Mel, who had been a music teacher and vocal coach before her marriage. The revelation hit her hard and unexpected, flooding her with relief and a hint of shame. She had been so suspicious all this time without a reason. Nothing had been going on between Hen and Mel, nothing inappropriate, nothing intimate. He had been telling the truth.

Henry's voice interrupted her thoughts and she took a deep breath, turning her attention to what was happening on stage.

The band started to play and Kat immediately recognized the song, Green, Green Grass of Home, and when Henry began to sing she was completely captivated by his full, warm and dark voice. He did great up there and it didn't take people long to pull out lighters and smartphones to wave them in the air to the slow rhythm of the song, creating a sea of lights that illuminated the garden.

"Well...I better get started before I chicken out and change my mind." He nodded at the band with a grateful smile.

"We only had the chance to rehearse two times so please be lenient with me. Thanks guys for playing along and allowing me to take over... Anyway, I've prepared three songs. Enjoy."

Kat looked at Mrs Cavill, no, at Marianne -it still felt strange to call her by her first name- and she was beaming, tears of pride and joy sparkling in her eyes. Kat was incredibly happy and proud too, it just felt so good to see Henry perform, completely at ease with himself, confident and charming as ever.

The next song seemed to be some kind of family hymn. After only a few lines of Neil Diamond's Sweet Caroline everybody was singing along, even the kids, and Kat joined in, soaking up the jolly atmosphere and the good mood that was so infectious. Henry obviously had a great time too. He was smiling all over his face and it made Kat glad to see him so relaxed and happy. Before he began singing the last song, he spoke softly into the microphone.

"The next one is for everyone who's in love. Grab your loved ones and get on the dancefloor, it's time for slow-dancing", and after a little pause he added, "this one's for you, Kat."

I know that you've been hurt before

He looked her straight in the eyes and his words sent shivers down her spine. She noticed the curious glances people gave her and she knew she was blushing but she did her best to pretend to be cool, calm and collected, taking a sip of her red wine. When the music set in, Kat easily recognized the song. It was a slow version -Henry's version- of a Curtis Stigers song and she already loved it after the first few words. She knew the lyrics by heart and thinking about them awoke the butterflies in her belly.

Happy couples filled the dancefloor looking lovingly at each other, dancing slowly to the music. Henry's full voice was perfect for the song and he kept looking at Kat. Their eyes were locked and to her it felt like no one else was around, like Henry was singing just for her.

But that won't happen anymore, no no

Just give your heart to me

And I'll guard it with my life

I don't know what I'd do

Baby, without you

His words found their way right into her heart and for the first time in 22 years she felt ready to finally let go of the past, to completely trust him again, to believe him and to forgive him.

You're all that matters to me

The ground that you walk

The air that you breathe

Someday you'll discover

I don't want no other, believe me

You're all that matters, baby

All that matters to me

She realized that a teardrop was rolling down her cheek and she wiped it away hastily. Concern was showing in Henry's eyes when he saw that she was crying but the smile she gave him showed him it was a tear of joy and relief flooded him. He couldn't wait to finish the song now, couldn't wait to dance with Kat, to hold her in his arms.

Loud applause followed his performance, accompanied by calls for an encore that he declined politely with a shy smile. Henry made sure to tell the band to continue with some ballads and after receiving some very tight hugs and kisses from his extremely happy and proud mother he finally joined Kat at their table.

"Fancy a dance?" He offered her his hand with a charming smirk.

She nodded and took his hand, following him to the dance floor where he pulled her close. They swayed slowly to "You Are The Sunshine of my life" for a while without saying anything, content with just looking at each other, before Kat broke the silence.

"You were great up there."

"You liked it?"

"I loved it, Hen. You have a wonderful voice. Mel seems to be a good coach." Kat gave him a sheepish smile.

"Yeah, she is. Once she'd realized that I wasn't interested in more than singing lessons she was very professional and pretty strict."

Henry grinned at her, gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"It was supposed to be a surprise and I wanted you to trust me." He shrugged, giving her a tender smile.

"And I didn't. I let you down. I was such an idiot, Henry. I should have believed you, I am so sor…"

"No, Kitty, please... don't apologize, okay?" He looked at her with a frown, seriousness showing in his eyes. "You had every right to be mistrustful, I understand that. Just tell me that you think you will be able to trust me again some day."

"I already do. I…"

They bumped into another couple and it wasn't the first time. The dance floor was crowded and everyone was keen on congratulating Henry on his performance. It felt like every single party guest was watching them.

"Wanna leave?"

"Yes," Kat nodded with a smile.

****

"It's so peaceful, isn't it?"

"It is. It's beautiful." Kat squeezed Henry's hand before resting her head against his shoulder. They were walking down the beach along the dark shore, that was romantically enlightened by a bright full moon hand, in hand. The sea was calm, just giving off its soothing sounds and a cool breeze that made Kat shiver. Henry took off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders.

"Thanks", Kat said with a smile, "not only for the jacket but for bringing me here and for this wonderful night."

"Did you enjoy the party?"

"Of course, it was so much fun and I loved your performance. Especially the third song."

Henry stopped walking and turned to her, taking both of her hands in his, looking her deep in the eyes.

"Every single word was true, Kat. I meant it. I'd never hurt you again. You're really all that matters to me. I know you find it hard to believe me, but…"

"I believe you," Kat cut in, "I felt it. I feel it now."

Henry stared at her. "You do?"

"Fuck, yes, I do!" Kat threw her head back, laughing out loud, feeling incredibly happy and light-hearted all of the sudden. "And I feel the same, Hen. Exactly the same."

She cupped his face with her hands and did what she had been longing to do for so long. She kissed him. It was a gentle kiss, almost shy and when Henry felt her mouth on his, her soft lips united with his, skin on skin, no tongue, just tenderness and love, he was beyond happy and savoured every single second.

When Kat pulled away reluctantly he rested his forehead against hers taking a deep breath.

"I feel like 17 again", he whispered.

Kat laughed softly at his words. "So do I. It feels great."

The next kiss started off just like the previous one, innocent and sweet, but when Henry pulled Kat close to deepen the kiss all the bottled-up sexual tension and energy, all the suppressed passion and desire of more than 20 years erupted and they started to make out hungrily, starving for love and intimacy. After a while things really heated up and Henry was the one to put the brakes on when Kat started to fumble with his fly.

"If you don't want me to take you right here we better take it to the bedroom, Kitty", Henry sighed, his voice thick with arousal and desire.

"Well, I've never done it on the beach…", Kat smirked, biting her lower lip.

"Seriously? Here?" Henry took a look around checking if the coast was clear.

"I was joking, Hen. I hate having sand in every pore." Kat nudged him with a grin. "Just take me home."

They made it to the cottage in record time and started to undress each other right in the little hallway, kissing and fumbling like teenagers. While Kat was unzipping Henry's trousers, he was unsuccessfully trying to open her bra.

"Front clasp, Hen", Kat explained to him breathlessly.

"Fuck", Henry chuckled, "I swear I'm not gonna be that clueless once I'll have you naked."

"Good," she answered with a lewd smile, stripping off her bra when he'd finally managed to open it, standing in front of him in just her panties.

"God, you're beautiful, Kitty." Henry let his eyes wander all over her body while stepping out of his pants. He took off his socks and now he was facing her naked too, except for his briefs.

"You don't look so bad yourself, pop."

She grabbed him by the hem of his underwear, pulling him close for another kiss. Kat gasped when he lifted her up effortlessly, wrapping her legs around his waist, feeling his hard-on pressing against her wet panties. She moaned into his mouth when he moved his hips, dry humping her teasingly. Henry carried Kat to his bedroom and laid her down on the bed. He stripped off her pants before he did the same with his and when they finally were both naked he climbed on top of her, looking her deep in the eyes, before kissing her again. It was a long, slow kiss and Kat let her fingers run over his back till they reached his butt. She squeezed his ass and pulled him close, sighing with lust when Henry started to kiss her tits and to suck her nipples. She reached between her legs and grabbed his dick that was pretty impressive, giving it a few strokes that made him moan loudly.

"Fuck, Kat...I need you…I need to feel you...now."

She brought the tip of his cock to her entrance, bucking her hips, inviting him in.

"Take me. I'm yours, Henry."

"Are you on birth control?"

"I am, don't worry. Just go for it. Please."

Her words weren't more than a hoarse whisper but Henry heard them crystal clear. He moaned again when he realized that it was finally going to happen. He was about to make love to Kat and it was like a dream come true. A hot, sexy, wet dream and he couldn't help but feel a little nervous. He penetrated Kat slowly, gently, enjoying the moment that marked the beginning of their first time.

"God, Hen…", Kat moaned softly as he stretched her pussy, kneading his ass and lifting her hips to meet him halfway, "you feel great."

"I love you, Henry," she whispered before she came with a loud moan. She arched her back and Henry felt the shiver that ran through her body and the contraction of her pussy that tightened around his cock. The feelings that flooded him were more than Henry could take and he cried her name out loud when he got off, releasing an enormous amount of cum and the thought of filling her up like this made him thrust into her cunt hard and deep one last time. "Fuck...Kitty." He collapsed on top of her, gasping and panting, holding her tight, pressing a kiss on her lips. Henry looked her in the eyes with a loving smile.

He started to move slowly once he filled her completely, looking her in the eyes. It was impossible to turn back time. He wasn't her first, she wasn't his first but he still intended to make their first time together feel special, he didn't want to fuck her mindless, he wanted to make tender love to her. He thrusted a little faster and deeper now and Kat followed his rhythm, her gaze resting on his face. They shared another sensual kiss, moving in sync for a wonderful long time, prolonging the intimate moment as much as possible, enjoying the sensation of closeness, their bodies and souls connected.

Henry's moans got louder, turning into raspy grunts which was a great turn on for Kat, who was a panting mess. Breathing heavily she was getting closer to cumming with every thrust that hit her cervix, with every stroke, brushing against her g-spot, with his lower body pressing and rubbing against her clit. She watched Henry, who had his head bent back now, eyes half closed, his upper body propped up on his elbows that were placed left and right of her torso. She wrapped her legs around him, making him go even deeper before she grabbed his head and pulled him in for a sweet kiss. They locked eyes and his gaze was full of tenderness, his pupils tinted black and filled with lust.

"I love you too, Kat."

A few minutes later they were lying side by side, holding hands, their faces turned to each other.

"We should have done that 22 years ago."

Henry grinned at Kat, stroking her cheek with his thumb.

"I doubt it would have been so good. Teenage Kat was very self-conscious and a little prude and I guess teenage Henry wasn't a pro at handling this weapon right from the start." Kat touched his dick and gave him a teasing wink that made Henry chuckle.

"Right. We've come a long way. It just feels like we've wasted so much time...all these years."

"We can't change that, Hen", Kat said, "but we can make the most of the time that's still to come. Let's just be happy together from now on. Let's spend as much time together as possible, let's have lots and lots of fucking great sex, let's have fun, let's share our joys and sorrows, let's share our lives."

****

Epilogue

Two years later.

Kat sat at her desk in her office with a happy smile on her face. Mr. Darcy was sleeping on her lap and she held a letter in her hands. Bringing it close to her nose she took a deep breath, smelling Henry's scent, his tangy, musky cologne. It was a habit they had established in the last years. Whenever Henry and Kat were separated for more than a few days they sent each other love letters. Handwritten in ink, the exclusive, handmade writing paper perfumed with their odours, the lines filled with their love. The letters usually weren't long, most of the time they shared just short poems or simply a few sentences about how their days had been without each other. It was their old fashioned way of showing their affection and of staying in touch in addition to their conversations via phone or facetime.

"A letter from daddy", Kat whispered, stroking her round belly tenderly. Eight weeks to go until they would welcome their first child and a little more than half a year until their wedding. "Let's see what it's saying."

Kat opened the letter carefully and pulled out the thick paper to unfold it.

"My darling Kitty,

Only three days to go until I finally can take you in my arms again. I can't wait to kiss your lips and your belly to greet you and our little bean. I don't have much time, you know how tight my schedule is, but I needed to write down this poem for you. It would make a great wedding vow, don't you think? Just read it and let me know how you feel about it when I'm back.

"Mouthful Of Forevers

I am not the first person you loved. You are not the first person I looked at with a mouthful of forevers. We have both known loss like the sharp edges of a knife. We have both lived with lips more scar tissue than skin.

Our love came unannounced in the middle of the night. Our love came when we’d given up on asking love to come. I think that has to be part of its miracle. This is how we heal.

I will kiss you like forgiveness. You will hold me like I’m hope. Our arms will bandage and we will press promises between us like flowers in a book.

I will write sonnets to the salt of sweat on your skin. I will write novels to the scar of your nose. I will write a dictionary of all the words I have used trying to describe the way it feels to have finally, finally found you.

And I will not be afraid of your scars. I know sometimes it’s still hard to let me see you in all your cracked perfection, but please know: whether it’s the days you burn more brilliant than the sun or the nights you collapse into my lap your body broken into a thousand questions, you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

I will love you when you are a still day. I will love you when you are a hurricane."

Isn't it perfect for us?

by Clementine von Radics

I love you!

Forever yours,

Henry"

***********

The End

[andreafmn]

I'm Not Afraid - Chapter 5

xWord Count: 3,374

Characters: Female Reader Argent Character, Original Male Argent Character, Derek Hale, Allison Argent, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey, Lydia Martin, Chris Argent, Jackson Whittemore

Story Description: (Y/N) Argent arrived at Beacon Hills to put to rest her father’s sister, Kate Argent. For the first time, her family has decided to settle down and sustain a life in this interesting small town. After 17 years, (Y/N) has the opportunity to establish interpersonal relationships but will she be ready to face the complications that come with relating to her cousin’s, Allison, friends; especially, the infamous Derek Hale. She will face the adventure of being associated with the Derek and McCall pack as well as being faced with the discovery of certain aspects of her life she never imagined.

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Teen Wolf, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Jeff Davis and MTV Network. The only thing I own is Argent Reader insert, her immediate family, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others’ storyline.

Chapter: 5/?

A/N: If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories (I also hope to start taking requests if ya’ll want) Hope you enjoy and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

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Chapter 5

I woke up to a heavy and warm wight around my waist. As my mind started registering the scene around me, I noticed the soft snores that were filling the room, the strong smell of cologne, the rough skin encircling me, the chest in front of me that raised and fell at a slow pace. At some point during the night, Derek must have crawled into bed, and I couldn’t say that I minded.

He looked peaceful when he slept. No supernatural problems, no feuds, no hunters, just peace. My hand unconsciously landed on his cheek, softly stroking his cheek. Still succumbed to slumber, he leaned into the touch, nuzzling his head onto my hand like a puppy. I wish this could be the way it always was, but now that I knew the reality of the world we were in, there was no chance it would ever stay this way.

Deciding to let him sleep longer, I tiptoed down the stairs to the kitchen where breakfast had already been prepared. I looked around and noticed that their car keys were gone, which meant they had left early in the morning to do whatever it was that they always did. I greeted Brody who had trotted my way from the living room, and filled his dog bowl, adding a few tasty treats. While I served two plates, I put the coffee machine to run, ensuring the freshest pot for the morning. I looked around for a tray to take the breakfast upstairs in case my parents came back at any moment, eating my food as the coffee brewed. Placing some cream and sugars on the tray, I made my way back to the bedroom where Derek was starting to wake up, Brody following behind.

“Morning, sour wolf.” I softly pushed open the door, the tray in front of me. Derek was rubbing the night from his eyes, a soft smile playing on his lips. Upon seeing the man, Brody jumped on the bed greeting him with slobbery kissed. Derek laughed and petted his head as he laid at the foot of the bed.

“Morning,” he yawned. “Whatcha got there?”

“Some eggs, bacon, and hash browns. Also, some coffee.” He took the tray from my hands and set it on the bed. Taking one of the coffee cups, I sat over on my desk to work on the homework I had left pile during the week. Derek grabbed the plate and came to stand behind me, leaning down to rest his chin on my shoulder.”

“What are you doing?” He inquired, downing the food from the plate quickly.

“Homework. You know, the thing people my age have to do to be able to graduate from high school with good grades.” I looked to the side, my heart beating faster noticing the closeness of our faces. “I’m sure you wouldn’t know much about that.”

“I’ll have you know I was a good enough student.”

“Emphasis on good enough.” I booped his nose with my pen and continued my work. “When you’re done you should head home, don’t want my parents catching you here just in case.”

“Why? We’re not doing anything.” He sipped his coffee and sat down on the bed, Brody laying his head on his lap. I turned my chair and faced him, a laugh escaping my lips.

“I think you’re forgetting who you are and who my family is. Apart from that, I don’t think my dad will particularly enjoy the fact that a 21-year-old werewolf is in his teenage daughter’s bedroom, alone.” I grinned. “But suit yourself. I’d love to see how it will play out.”

“Alright, but can I at least take you out some time this week?” My heartbeat quickened, the sound loud enough for me to hear. “Is that a yes?”

“It’s not a no,” I grinned.

“I kind of need an answer,” he pressed. A grin played on his lips by the point he had stood and rested his hands on the arms of the chair.

“How about, I’ll let you know?”

“I’ll take it,” he smiled. “I’ll text you.”

“Alright, I’ll be waiting.” He kissed my cheek and grabbed his jacket to head towards the door. “Where are you going?”

“Home?”

“Not through the door you’re not.” The dumbfounded look on his face was hilarious. “what would I do if my parents walked in.”

“I’m fast, you know. Like supernaturally fast.”

“Mm, I’ve seen you. Not fast enough.”

“Fine,” he surrendered. “Keep watch of your phone.”

“I will,” I smiled. He took a step back and in the blink of an eye, he was gone. Brody got alerted by the sudden move and jumped off the bed to bark at the window, standing on his hind legs to prop his eye out. I joined his side and saw Derek standing normally in my backyard as if he hadn’t just jumped out of a two-story window. He waved and I waved back as he became a blur, vanishing before my very eyes.

I slumped down on my bed and ran my hands over my face. What was I doing? There were so many things that were pit against us. My 18th birthday was still a little less than a year away, he had something going on with Erica, my family and he are natural-born enemies, we are currently under the terror of a reptilian shapeshifting Jackson, and that was just scratching the surface. I couldn’t scrutinize why he would ask me out too much, it was probably not even in a romantic way. It could just well be that he wanted to keep an eye on me since I was new to this whole werewolf, Kanima, hunter thing.

A couple of hours went by where I took Brody out for a walk, finished what was left of my homework, and started watching a movie when my phone went off.

“Hey, I heard the good news! You’re staying in town.”

“Hey, Allison. Yeah, it looks that way.”

“Well then, I believe you owe some people an apology.”

“What could you possibly mean?” I scoffed. But she was right, as hard as it was to admit.

“Don’t act dumb, (Y/N). You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“I don’t like it when you’re right,” I sighed. “What do you think I should do?”

“I could invite them over to your house and you could apologize to them. They never object to free pizza.”

I was glad. Instead of sulking on the 'he likes me, he likes me not' nonsense, I prepared the house for Allison and her friends, the people I hope to win over. One by one they arrived at my doorstep. Scott, Stiles, Lydia, and Allison. I had put out some snacks and the pizza I had bought. Scott and Stiles were not shy about their hunger as they dove in right away.

"So, what's the purpose of this meeting?" Lydia asked, her usual cocky attitude on full show.

"Uh, well, I wanted to apologize for being such a bitch these past few weeks."

"Hm, understatement of the century." Stiles chuckled with his mouth full.

"Actually, she can be 1,000 times worse. That was just level 1 bitchiness."

"Point taken. But why would you apologize? We get it you don't want to be our friend."

"That's not it, it's just... ugh... Look, it’s honestly a very long story, but moving around it’s hard to cut ties and start over for so long. After a while it’s easier to builds walls up and maintain everyone at arm’s length." They all stared at me. Hopefully I was getting through to them. "But this time I'm changing that. I want to be your friend and that's why I'm apologizing."

"Well, I don't know about the other guys, but I've always considered you my friend. I mean, I've considered Lydia my friend and she hates me."

"Oh, please, Stiles. I don't hate you, you're just, um.... special."

"I'll take it."

"We understand. And of course you're our friend, (Y/N). You were just too stubborn to notice." Scott smiled at me. "Now, is there more pizza?"

"How the hell did you two boys just finish two boxes of pizza?"

"We're growing?" Stiles said with his mouth full.

"Barely," Allison mumbled.

"You know I can hear you, right?"

"That's the point, Scott."

The whole room laughed and continued to enjoy a very pleasant afternoon. It felt weird to finally feel like I belonged somewhere; that there were people around me that cared for me despite my flaws. As I looked around the faces of the group that had welcomed me with open arms, I couldn’t help but feel that someone was missing; the person that had first accepted me.

The clock had hit 4 o’clock when the last piece of food was gone, and the gang had gone home. After cleaning up, I decided it was time to call Isaac. I didn’t like the person he had become after the bite. But I couldn’t say I didn’t understand. He felt confident, strong, but he was using the wrong outlet. Just like I was.

“So, you’re finally talking to me,” Isaac chuckled, a cocky tone to his voice.

“Only if you’re done being a douche.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ever since you turned into a werewolf you’ve been nothing short of unbearable with your cocky behavior and holier-than-thou attitude.” I could hear him shifting on the other line, the news taking him aback. It seems Derek hadn’t told his pack that I knew everything.

“H-how… who told you?”

“Derek, your alpha. He told me everything the other day. I know all about werewolves, kanimas, hunters, pack, blah, blah, blah. But none of that excuses your behavior,’’ I sighed. “So, are you done being a dick?”

“Maybe,” he chuckled. “Can I see you?”

“Sure. Why don’t we go grab a bite? I’ll pick you up.”

“Alright!” He sounded excited. “I’ll text you the address.”

After hanging up I decided to take a quick shower before leaving. I threw on a white t-shirt and jeans and paired them with my leather jacket. As I tied my boots, I reached for the keys of my dad’s Chevrolet Suburban. Hopefully, I didn’t crash. In the car, I typed in the address Isaac had sent me. It was an industrial loft not too far from my own home. I honked my horn to notify Isaac I was there as well as sent a text.

“Are you stalking me now?”

I jumped at the sound of Derek’s voice and the knock he left on my window. . He appeared like a ghost and leaned on my door. “I could say the same about you. I’ve never been here before.”

“I live here,” he laughed, pointing at the building. “It’s my loft.”

“I’m here to pick up Isaac,” I said sheepishly. “So, he’s been staying with you. I thought you live in the woods.”

“It’s my family’s house and it’s under my ownership, but it’s not under livable conditions. And, yes, Isaac has been staying with me.”

“Hey, Derek.” Isaac finally emerged from the doors and jogged up to my car, patting Derek on the back. The man’s expression rapidly changed as soon as Isaac joined the conversation. The playful smile he wore had been replaced by a menacing scowl. “We’re going out for a while. I’ll see you later.”

We said goodbye and as I drove off, I stared at Derek. His body was tense, and his jaw was clenched. He was angry, but I didn’t know why. When we were alone, he was a completely different person than what he showed to others. There was this terrifying façade that was impenetrable by everyone else, yet he was a completely different person with me; he was an Alpha to the others, but he was just Derek to me.

I parked the car at a small burger joint Isaac directed me to. It wasn’t too full, so our food came out quickly. We sat at a table in the back, far from any prying ears.

“So, what did you mean about this cocky attitude?” He popped a french fry into his mouth, playing around with his food. “You seemed quite mad about it. Mad enough that you avoided me for some time.”

“Ever since you transformed you’ve been carrying yourself like you’re above everyone, you don’t even bother to be respectful of teachers or anyone for that matter. I miss the old Isaac.”

“You mean the pushover wimpy kid?” He scoffed. “I can’t say the same.”

“That’s not what I meant.” My hand reached out to his clenched fist and his hold softened. “You were nice and respectful, and knew how to treat others because you knew how it felt to be mistreated. Of course, you could have done with more confidence, but that’s not what this is. It’s almost as if you’re turning into Jackson, heaven forbid.”

His eyes softened and I knew I was getting through the wall he had built up.

"I'm sorry, (Y/N). It's just… this is the first time in my life that I have felt powerful, like nothing and no one can touch me. I've dealt with so much shit that I thought I deserved to act like that," he sighed. "Can you ever forgive me?"

“You’re practically my best friend, how could I not?”

“Thanks.” He gave me a smile that I happily reciprocated. For the first time in a while, I was seeing the Isaac I had met some time ago. “So, what is it that you needed to speak to me so eagerly.”

“Remember how I mentioned that I would be moving at the end of the year so you shouldn’t get attached?” He nodded. “Well, it seems you’re gonna have to put up with me for a long time. Beacon Hills is now my home.”

“What?! That’s great!” He exclaimed a little too loud. Heads turned towards us and Isaac tried to hide his blush. “Does that mean we can truly be friends now? Not just study partners or casual conversation acquaintances?”

“Yes, Isaac. That’s exactly what that means,” I laughed. His face had lit up as the hard mask he wore finally broke apart. “By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask you, what happened the night that I picked you up? It was such a weird night.”

His whole demeanor changed, clearly a sore subject to talk about. "If Derek told you what we are I presume he told you about everything else." I nodded. "The Kanima. It killed my father. We, um, had gotten into a fight and I ran out. It seems he went out looking for me but didn't get to me. I found him dead in his car, but I ran and called you."

" Isaac, why didn't you tell me? I mean, I know why you didn't tell me, but something; you should have told me something.” I looked into his eyes, worry evident in them. He had gone through such a traumatic event basically by himself. “Is that why the police were looking for you?"

He nodded. "They thought I had something to do with his murder because of something Jackson said. He was unfortunately my neighbor and had seen me running out of the house, but there were no tracks leading to me. I'm not a fugitive anymore." He smiled softly.

“I’m glad, Isaac, really. And I’m truly sorry for everything you’ve had to endure alone for all these years. You didn’t deserve it.”

“Thanks, (Y/N). At least that part of my life is over.”

“Now we just have to get that damn Kanima and get on with our lives.” We laughed.

Before we knew it, the sky outside had turned dark, signaling the arrival of the night. The car ride back was filled with mindless chitchat and soft background music. It had been a long few days and exhaustion was evident in both of us. Soon enough, the grey building had come into view.

“Do you want to come in for a bit?” Isaac leaned into the open window of the driver’s side.

“I think I’m just gonna head on home. I’m a bit tired and we have school tomorrow.” I smiled. “But, I’ll take you up on the offer someday.”

“Isaac, good to see you’re back,” Derek announced himself, his two betas following behind. “You’re late for training.”

“Sorry, Derek. Time slipped away.”

“Sorry won’t cut it.” His voice was commanding and a bit intimidating. I could see why everyone around me feared him. “Go with Erica and Boyd. Get started.”

'‘Bye, (Y/N). I’ll see you tomorrow.” I smiled and nodded, trying my best to comfort him.

“See you.” Derek stood back as we both watched the three figures disappear into the building. His chest moved, heaving, and he reeked of jealousy. “What’s your problem?”

“What?” Did he truly believe I was that oblivious? “I just…”

“You’re acting like a prissy child, Derek. You knew where Isaac was, who he was with, and that there was a possibility that he would come back late. There’s no need to grill him that hard.”

“He’s old enough to manage his time correctly, (Y/N). He needs to learn discipline. This has nothing to do with you.”

“Clearly, that’s not what’s happening here,’’ I laughed dryly. “Look, pardon the metaphor, but this whole alpha male act is gonna get very tiring, very quickly. If this is how you’re gonna be, don’t bother on scheduling that date this week.”

“Don’t be like that, (Y/N). I swear this has nothing to do with you. There are certain rules that we have to abide by, a different life. It’s complicated.”

“You’re not making any sense, Derek.”

“It’s hard to explain.”

“Yesterday we said no secrets, Derek. What changed in the hours that have passed?”

“Nothing’s changed. I’m sorry if I seemed too harsh on Isaac, but I have to be. They’re young and reckless, and it’s my job to make sure they stay safe. No matter the cost.” He ran his hands across his face as he let out a loud sigh. “Why don’t we just keep the supernatural and our personal lives apart.”

“We can try that for a while, but they’re bound to intersect at some point.”

“I know, but…”

“Let’s play it your way and see how it goes, okay? And lay off Isaac and the others? They are just kids.”

“I’ll try,” he smiled softly. “Text me when you get home, okay?”

“If I remember.”

I backed the car up and sped back to my house. When I opened the garage, my father was sitting on the spot where the car usually went. I had forgotten to tell them I would be gone, and my phone’s battery had died a while back. I was in so much trouble.

“Good to know you’re alive, darling daughter.” The sarcasm spewed from my father’s mouth, and it stung.

“I’m so sorry. I went out with a friend and my phone died. And I know I forgot to say I was leaving the house, but I rarely do that, so please forgive me.”

“Calm down, (Y/N),” he laughed. “We just wanted to make sure you were okay. You weren’t answering your phone, so we got worried. But remember, there’s a tracker on the car. We figured you were out. And I’m glad to hear you have a friend. It’s about time.”

“Thanks, dad.” He wrapped me in a hug and patted my head. If he knew who my friends were I’m sure he wouldn’t feel the same way. “But, if you knew where I was, what was this whole scary setup? I for sure thought you were going to kill me.”

“Nothing like that, honey. But your mother and I have something we have to talk to you about.”

“What is it? You can’t take back that we are staying.”

“It’s not that, but it is serious. Let’s go, your mom is waiting in the kitchen.”

My heart was beating at a rapid pace, a million thoughts running through my head. Although, at the bottom of my heart I knew what this talk was going to be about.

Tag List: @hellowinterlane​ @lokisgoddesofpower​ @mersuperwholocked-lowlife @malar-region

[itonje]

people of color in arthurian legend masterpost

hi! some people said it would be cool if i did this, and this is something i find interesting so. yeah! are you interested in king arthur and the knights of the round table? do you like to read about characters of color, especially in older lit? well, i hope this can be a good resource for people to get into stuff like that, especially poc/ethnic minorities who might feel uncomfortable or lonely getting into older media like arthuriana. this post is friendly to both those who prefer medieval lit and those who prefer modern stuff!

disclaimers: i am not a medievalist nor a race theorist! very much not so. i am just a 17 year old asian creature on the internet who wants to have an easy-to-reference post, if i’m not comprehensive enough please inform me. i’m going to stay closely to the matter of britain, as well, not all medieval european literature as a. this is what i’m more familiar with and b. there’s so much content and information and context to go along with it that it would really be impossible to put it all into one tumblr post. (however there’s always going to be overlap!) also, please do not treat me or any other person of color/ethnic minority as a singular all-knowing authority on anything! we’re all trying to have fun here and being made into an information machine on things, especially what is and isn’t offensive isn’t fun. with that out of the way, let’s get into it! (under cut for length!) 

part i: some historical context (tw for racism and antisemitism discussion)

fair warning, i’m going to start off with some discussions of more heavier history before we talk about more fun stuff. while pre colonial racism was far more different than how it is today, there still...was racism. and it’s important to understand the social mien around nonwhite people in europe at the time these works were written. 

to understand how marginalized ethnicities were written in medieval european literature, you have to understand the fact that religion, specifically catholicism, was a very important part of medieval european life. already, catholicism has violent tenets (ie, conversion as an inherent part of the church, as well as many antisemitic theologies and beliefs), but this violence worsened when an event known as the crusades happened.

the crusades were a series of religious wars started by the catholic church to ‘reclaim’ the holy land from islamic rule and to aid the byzantine empire. while i won’t go into the full history of the crusades, (some basic info here and here and here) its important to understand that they had strengthened the european view of the ’pagan’ (ie: not european christian) world as an ‘other’, a threat to christiandom that needed to be conquered and converted, for the spiritual benefit of both the convertee and the converter. these ideas of ethnoreligious superiority and conversion would permeate into the literature of the time written by european christians. 

even today, the crusades are very much associated with white supremacy and modern islamophobic sentiment, with words such as ‘deus vult’ as a dogwhistle, and worship of and willingness to emulate the violence the crusaders used against the inhabitants of the holy land in tradcath spaces, so this isn’t stuff that’s all dead and in the past. crusader propaganda and the ignorance on the violence of the catholic church and the crusaders on muslim and jewish populations (as well as nonwhite christians ofc) is very harmful. arthuriana itself has a lot of links to white supremacy too-thanks to @/to-many-towered-camelot for this informative post. none of this stuff exists in a bubble. 

here’s a book on catholic antisemitism, here’s a book on orientalism, here’s a book about racism in history that touches on the crusades. (to any catholic, i highly reccommend you read the first.)

with that out of the way, we can talk about the various not european groups that typically show up in arthurian literature and some historical background irt to that. the terms ‘moor’ and ‘saracen’ will typically pop up. both terms are exonyms and are very, very broad, eventually used as both a general term for muslims and as a general term for african and (western + central) asian people. they’re very vague, but when you encounter them the typical understanding you’re supposed to take away is ‘(western asian/african) foreigner’ and typically muslim/not christian as well. t

generally, african and asian lands will typically be referred to as pagan or ‘eastern/foreign’ lands, with little regard for understanding the actual religions of that area. they will also typically refer to saracens as pagans although islam is not a pagan religion. this is just a bit of a disclaimer. the term saracen itself is considered to be rather offensive-thank you to @/lesbianlanval for sending me a paper on this subject. 

while i typically refer to the content on this post as having to pertain to african and asian people (ie, not european) european jewish arthurian traditions are included on this post too. but, i know more about poc and they’ll feature more prominently in this post because of that, lol. 

part ii: so, are there any medieval texts involving characters of color?

i’m glad you asked! of course there are! to be clear, european medieval authors were very much aware that people of color and african + asian nations existed, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. even the vita merlini mentions sri lanka and a set of islands that might (?) be the philippines!! for the sake of brevity though, on this list i’m not going to list every single one of these small and frequent references, so i’m just going to focus on texts that primarily (or notably) feature characters of color. 

first of all, it’s important to know was the influence of cultures of color and marginalized ethnicities that helped shape arthurian legend. the cultural exchange between europe and the islamic world during the crusades, as well as the long history of arab presence in southern europe, led to the influence of arabic love poetry and concepts of love on european literature, helping to form what we consider the archetypal romance. there are also arthurian traditions in hebrew, and yiddish too, adding new cultural ideas and introducing new story elements to their literature-all of these are just as crucial to the matter of britain as any other traditions!

when it comes to nonwhite presence in the works themselves, many knights of color in arthurian legend tend to be characters that, after defeated by a knight of arthur’s court join the court themselves. though some are side characters, there are others with their own romances and stories devoted to them! many of them are portrayed as capable + good as, if not better than their counterparts. (this, however, usually only comes through conversion to christianity if the knight is not christian...yeah.) though groups of color as a general monolith created by european christians tended to be orientalized in literature (see: mystical and strange ~eastern~ lands), many individual knights were written to be seen by their medieval audience as positive heroes. i’m going to try to stick to mostly individual character portrayals such as these. 

with that all said though, these characters can still be taken as offensive (i would consider most to be) in their writing, so take everything with a grain of salt here. i will also include links to as many english translations of texts as i can, as well as note which ones i think are beginner friendly to those on the fence about medieval literature!

he shows up in too many texts so let’s make this into two bullet notes and start with one of, if not the most ubiquitous knight of color of the round table (at least in medieval lit),-palamedes! palamedes/palomides is a ‘’saracen knight’’ who (typically) hails from babylon or palestine and shows up in a good amount of texts. his first appearance is in the prose tristan, and he plays a major role there as a knight who fights with tristan for the hand of iseult-while he uh. loses, him and tristan later become companions + friends with a rivalry, and palamedes later goes off to hunt the questing beast, a re-occurring trend in his story. 

palamedes even got his own romance named after him (which was very popular!) and details the adventures of the fathers of the knights of the round table, pre arthur, as well as later parts of the story detailing the adventures of their sons. it was included in rustichello da pisa’s compilation of arthurian romances, which i unfortunately have not seen floating around online (or...anywhere), so i can’t attest to the quality of it or anything. he appears in le morte darthur as well, slaying the questing beast but only after his conversion to christianity (...yeah.) in the texts in which he appears, palamedes is considered to be one of the top knights of the round table, alongside tristan and lancelot, fully living up to chivalric and courtly ideals and then some. i love him dearly and i’ve read the prose tristan five times just for him. (also the prose tristan in general is good, please give it a try, especially if you’re a romance fan.)

speaking of le morte d’arthur, an egyptian knight named priamus shows up in the lucius v arthur episode on lucius’ side first, later joining arthur’s after some interactions with gawaine. palamedes has brothers here as well-safir and segwarides. safir was relatively popular, and shows up in many medieval texts, mostly alongside his older brother. i wouldn’t recommend reading le morte of all things for the characters of color though-if you really want to see what it’s all about, just skip to the parts they’re mentioned with ctrl + f, haha. 

the romance of moriaen is a 12th century dutch romance from the lancelot compilation, named for its main character morien. morien, who is a black moor, is the son of sir aglovale, the brother of perceval. whilst gawaine and lancelot are searching for said perceval, they encounter morien, who is in turn searching for aglovale as he had abandoned morien’s mother way back when. i wholeheartedly recommend this text for people who might feel uncomfy with medieval lit. though the translation i’ve linked can be a bit tricky, the story is short, sweet, and easy to follow, and morien and his relationships (esp with gariet, gawaine’s brother) are all wonderful. 

king artus (original hebrew text here) is a northern italian jewish arthurian text written in hebrew- it retells a bit of the typical conception of arthur story, as well as some parts from the death of arthur as well. i really can’t recommend this text enough-it’s quite short, with an easy-to-read english translation, going over episodes that are pretty familiar to any average reader while adding a lot of fun details and it’s VERY interesting to me from a cultural standpoint. i find the way how they adapt the holy grail (one of the most archetypal christian motifs ever) in particular pretty amazing. this is also a very beginner friendly text! 

wolfram von eschenbach’s parzival (link to volume 1 and volume 2-this translation rhymes!) is a medieval high german romance from the early 13th century, based off de troyes’ le conte du graal while greatly expanding on the original story. it concerns parzival and his quest for the grail (with a rather unique take on it-he fails at first!), and also takes like one million detours to talk about gawaine as all arthurian lit does. the prominent character of color here is a noble mixed race knight called feirefiz, parzival’s half brother by his father, who after dueling with parzival, and figures out their familial connection, joins him on his grail quest. he eventually converts to christianity (..yeah.) to see the grail and all ends happily for him. however, this text is notable to me as it contains two named women of color-belacane, feirefiz’s black african mother, and secundilla, feirefiz’s indian wife. though unfortunately, both are pretty screwed over by the text and their respective husbands. though parzival is maybe my favorite medieval text i’ve read so far i don’t necessarily know if i’d recommend this one, because it is long, and can be confusing at times. however, i do think that when it comes to the portrayal of people of color, while quite poor by today’s standards, von eschenbach was trying his best?-of course, in reason for. a 13th century medival german christian but he treats them with respect and all these characters are actually characters. if you’re really interested in grail stories (and are aware of the more uncomfortably christian aspects of the grail story), and you like gawaine and perceval, i’d say go for it. 

in the turk and sir gawain, an english poem from the early 16th century, gawaine and the titular turkish man play a game of tennis ball. i’m shitting you not. this text is pretty short, funnily absurd, and with most of the hallmarks of a typical quest (various challenges culminating in some castle being freed), so it’s an easier read. it’s unclear to me, but at the end of the story the turkish man turns into sir gromer, a noble knight, who may or may not be white which uh. consider my ‘....yeah’ typical at this point, but i don’t personally read it that way for my own sanity. also he throws the sultan (??) of the isle of man (????) into a cauldron for not being a christian so when it comes to respectful representation of poc this one doesn’t make it, but it does make this list. 

the revenge of ragisel, or at least the version i’ve read (the eng translation of the dutch version from the lancelot compilation), die wrake van ragisel, starts off being about the mysterious murder of a knight, but eventually, as most stories do, becomes a varying series of adventures about gawaine and co. one of gawaine’s friends (see: a knight who he combated with for a hot sec and then became friends and allies with, as you do) is a black knight named maurus! he’s not really an mc, but he features prominently and he’s pretty entertaining, as all the characters in this are. i also recommend this highly, i was laughing the whole time reading it! it’s not too long and pretty wild, you’ll have a good romp. this is a good starter text for anyone in general!

i’ve not read the roman van walewein, which, as it says on the tin, is a 12th century dutch romance concerning some deeds of gawaine (if only gawaine was a canon poc, i wouldn’t need to make this list because he’s so popular...). i’m putting it on the list for in this, gawaine goes to the far eastern land of endi (india) and romances a princess named ysabele. i can’t speak to ysabele’s character or the respectfulness of her kingdom or representation, but i know she’s a major character and her story ends pretty well, so that’s encouraging. women of color, especially fleshed out woc, are pretty rare in arthurian lit. i’ve also heard the story itself is pretty wild, and includes a fox, which sounds pretty exciting to me!

now the next two things i’m going to mention aren’t really? texts that feature characters of color or jewish characters, but are rather more notable for being translations of existing texts into certain languages. wigalois is a german 13th century romances featuring the titular character (the son of, you guessed it, gawaine!) and his deeds. the second, jaufre, is the only arthurian romance written in occitan, and is a quite long work about the adventures of the knight jaufre, based on the knight griflet. what’s notable about these two works is that wigalois has a yiddish translation, and jaufre has a tagalog translation. wigalois’ yiddish translation in particular changed the original german text into something more fitting of the arthurian romance format as well as adding elements to make it more appealing for a jewish audience. the tagalog translation of jaufre on the other hand was not medieval, only coming about in 1900, but the philippines has had a long history of romantic tradition and verse writing, so i’m curious to see if it too adds or changes elements when it comes to the arthurian story, but i can’t find a lot on the tagalog version of jaufre unfortunately-i hope i can eventually!

this list of texts is also non-exhaustive! i’m just listing a couple of notoriety, and some to start with. 

part iii: papers and academic analysis

so here’s just a dump of various papers i’ve read and collected on topics such as these-this is an inexhaustive and non-comprehensive list! if you have any papers you think are good and would like to be added here, shoot me an ask. i’ll try to include a link when i can, but if it’s unavailable to you just message me. * starred are the ones i really think people, especially white people, should at least try to read. 

Swank, Kris. ‘Black in Camelot: Race and Ethnicity in Arthurian Legend’ *

Harrill, Claire. ‘Saracens and racial Otherness in Middle English * Romance’

Keita, Maghan. ‘Saracens and Black Knights’ 

Hoffman, Donald L. ‘Assimilating Saracens: The Aliens in Malory's ‘Morte Darthur’

Goodrich, Peter H. ‘Saracens and Islamic Alterity in Malory's ‘Le Morte Darthur’

Schultz, Annie. ‘Forbidden Love: The Arabic Influence on the Courtly Love Poetry of Medieval Europe’ *

Hardman, Philipa. ‘Dear Enemies: the Motif of the Converted Saracen and Sir Gawain and the Green Knight’

Knowles, Annie. ‘Encounters of the Arabian Kind: Cultural Exchange and Identity the Tristans of Medieval France, England, and Spain’ *

Hermes, Nizar F. ‘King Arthur in the Lands of the Saracens’ *

Ayed, Wajih. ‘Somatic Figurations of the Saracen in Sir Thomas Malory’s Le Morte Darthur’

Herde, Christopher M. ‘A new fantasy of crusade: Sarras in the vulgate cycle.’ *

Rovang, Paul R. ‘Hebraizing Arthurian Romance: The Originality of ‘Melech Artus.’’

Rajabzdeh, Shokoofeh. ‘The Depoliticized Saracen and Muslim erasure’ *

Holbrook, Sue Ellen. ‘To the Well: Malory's Sir Palomides on Ideals of Chivalric Reputation, Male Friendship, Romantic Love, Religious Conversion—and Loyalty.’ *

Lumbley, Coral. ‘Geoffrey of Monmouth and Race’ *

Oehme, Annegret. ‘Adapting Arthur. The Transformations and Adaptations of Wirnt von Grafenberg’s Wigalois’ *

Hendrix, Erik. ‘An Unlikely Hero: The Romance of Moriaen and Racial Discursivity in the Middle Ages’ *

Darrup, Cathy C. ‘Gender, Skin Color, and the Power of Place in the Medieval Dutch Romance of Moriaen’ *

Armstrong, Dorsey. ‘Postcolonial Palomides: Malory's Saracen Knight and the Unmaking of Arthurian Community’ (note this is the only one i can’t access in its entirety)

part iv: supplemental material

here’s some other stuff i find useful to getting to know knights of color in arthurian legend, especially if papers/academic stuff/medieval literature is daunting! i’d really recommend you go through all of these if you can’t go through anything else-most are quick reads. 

a magazine article on knights of color here, and this article about the yiddish translation of wigalois. 

this video about characters of color in arthurian legend!

the performance of the translation of arabic in Libro del Caballero Zifar, and how it pertains to the matter of britain 

a post by yours truly about women of color in parzival

this info sheet about palamedes, and this info sheet about ysabele-thanks to @/pendraegon and @/reynier for letting me use these!

this page on palamedes as well

this post with various resources on race and ethnicity in arthuriana-another thank you to @/reynier! 

part v: how about modern day stories and adaptations?

there’s a lot of em out there! i’m not as familiar with modern stuff, but i will try to recommend medias i know where characters of color (including racebends!) are prominent. since i haven’t read/watched all (or truly most) of these, i can’t really speak on the quality of the representation though, so that’s your warning. 

first of all, when it comes to the victorian arthurian revival, i know that william morris really liked palamedes! (don’t we all.) he features frequently in morris’ arthurian poetry, (in this beautiful book, he primarily features in ‘sir galahad, a christmas mystery’ and ‘king arthur’s tomb’. he has his own poem by morris here.)

and some other poems about palamedes, which i’d all recommend. 

for movies, i know a knight in camelot (1998) stars whoopi goldberg as an original character, the green knight (2021) will star dev patel as gawaine. 

some shows include camelot high, bbc merlin, disney’s once upon a time, and netflix’s cursed, all featuring both original characters of color and people of color cast as known arthurian figures. 

for any music people, in ‘high noon over camelot’, an album by the mechanisms, mordred is played by ashes o’reilley, who in turn is performed by frank voss, and arthur is played by marius von raum who is perfomed by kofi young. 

i’ve also heard the pendragon and the squire’s tales have palamedes as a relevant character if you’re looking for novels, as well as legendborn and the forgotten knight: a chinese warrior in king arthur’s court starring original protagonists of color! 

part vi: going on from here

so, you’ve read some medieval lit, read some papers, watched some shows, and done all that. what now? well, there’s still so much out there! 

if you have fanfiction, analysis, metaposts, fun content etc etc about arthurian poc, feel free to plug your content on this post! i’d be happy to boost it. 

in general, if you’re a person of color or a jewish person and you’re into arthurian legend, feel free to promote your blog on this post as well! i would love to know more people active on arthurian tumblr who are nonwhite. 

this is really just me asking for extra content, especially content made by poc, but that’s okay! arthurian legend is a living, breathing set of canons and i would love love love to see more fresh diversity within them right alongside the older stuff. 

a very gracious thank you to the tumblr users whom i linked posts to on here, and thanks to y’all for saying you want to see this! i hope this post helped people learn some new things! 

[mostly-mundane-atla]

Got it. What about Inuit, Yup’ik and Inupiaq stereotypes? Are there a lot of harmful ones to avoid? I do know you shouldn’t make eating meat their entire personality, but what else?

Okay, this is going to get dark, so if you need to blacklist any content warnings (mine are tagged as "[insert content here] mention", do that before reading and if you need me to tag anything specific, please tell me and avoid this post until I get to it.

And again: Disclaimer that simply having an eskimo coded character fall into these stereotypes is not inherently racist or wrong. Keep this in mind as writers of color, and thereby Native writers, often get a lot of shit for writing our experiences as we feel them. Not to mention, yelling at someone trying to do justice to a dark topic, even if they don't succeed, is a shitty thing to do. Some of these have subtextual backing in canon. Remember that although we are looked down on for crimes, wrongs, or unpleasantness we're assumed to have commited, it's the members of our community who suffer most for it. There is value in understanding the pain that comes from the community that's supposed to protect you, and I don't believe the writers of the series had any malicious intentions toward us for writing characters that fall into any of these stereotypes. Recognize the nuance or get off my blog and find someone else to back up your discourse.

I'm going to use the term Native in this context. Natives come from many different cultures and cannot be assumed to be the same, but many of these stereotypes are used against more than just Inuit, Inupiat, and Yup'ik peoples. This is why I find it to be the most appropriate term in this context. I will add my understanding of where these stereotypes came from and why they're harmful, but I am only one person and a full understanding of the topic requires more than one point of view.

"Natives are drunks." The United States used alcohol on Natives the same way Britain used opium on China. They introduced it to us and blamed addiction on our own "weakness of character." This assumption of alcoholism carries with it assumptions of untrustworthiness. For a real life example: I was on a grand jury (a jury that decides whether a case is worth taking to court) years ago and one case was an older Native man accusing his brother of physically assaulting him. For some reason, a nearly all-white jury was deemed to be a jury of this man's peers, and two or three white men violently insisted that it shouldn't be brought to court because it happened at a party and therefore it was just some alcoholics from the village wasting a judge's time. Eventually, after some discussion about how no alcohol was mentioned, it was decided the case should be presented to a judge. I would also like to point out that the Native man in question was entirely sober, well put-together, spoke more cohesively than other cases that day, and had a bad limp.

"Natives are child abusers/molesters." This one actually links to the first stereotype mentioned, and a lot of what I've said on this blog about how abuse perpetuates. There was a lot of physical, mental, and, yes, sexual abuse in the US run schools, especially the Christian ones and boarding schools. (I've heard people mentioning that the priests would more often target the boys because they couldn't get pregnant.) When one gets regularly exposed to this sort of thing, they come to accept it as normal. This normalizing of abuse is bad enough for the one person, but it also affects the way they interact with others when put in similar situations as the abuser. They're hurt and traumatized and weren't effectively told that it was wrong and they shouldn't have been put through that, so they perpetuate it on people as vulnerable as they were when it happened. Movements have started in hopes of bringing awareness and getting help for these people before they can carry out the cycle further. Abuse between adults is also a tricky issue because the ways people are taught to give or not give consent are counterintuitive to cultural norms around verbal and nonverbal communication. See: the "they didn't say no" argument.

"The Stoic Native." There are a number of reasons one culture might emote less than another, especially around people they don't know. This doesn't mean that we don't feel or are too strong or brave to feel. Our emotions are our business and we don't owe anyone an explanation.

"Natives are part of the land." For some reason, a lot of non-Natives have trouble grasping that Indigenous Peoples are human beings in our own right. A lot of media portrays us not as people in the same sense that the outsiders are, but as extensions of the land or the spirits of the land. It's true that generations upon generations of living somewhere means the land will change to reflect the people, but that is due to the influence of people living there and how their culture says to interact with it. This trope reduces us to symbols of "a simpler time" or just as often white people's ideas of nature conservation. It's dehumanizing and infantalizing, ignoring our cultures and civilizations, treating us as either innocent martyrs for someone else's cause, or pests that are done away with once the land is developed.

"The Native Princess." Sometimes the only way non-Natives can see us as people is by pushing cultural norms and forms of government they're more familiar with onto us. Naturally, this means assuming that our civilizations were as successful as they were because they were like the non-Native author's. This is especially gratuitous in the case of Inuit, Inupiat, and Yup'ik peoples because we don't have anything resembling a monarchy. Yeah, this one is explicitly in the text so I can't expect much to be done with it

"Native women are always available to men." I don't know what it is about cultures that consider themselves more "advanced" seeing ones they consider "primative" where women have more autonomy in the relationships they have with men and fewer restritions on their bodies. I don't know how they misinterpret "she can do that here" as "she's there for the taking" but it's so gross and I would like it to stop. Sexuality being more open and not inherently sinful doesn't mean the women don't have standards or won't turn anyone down.

"Natives are broke and/or homeless." This is just the typical racism mixing with classism to make something even uglier situatation. The result is a lot of treatment you see non-Native POC get, such as being followed at the store because they expect you to steal something.

There are more, I'm sure, but these are the ones I get the most. Note that again, it's not inherently bad to write a Native or Native-coded character who drinks or has a lot of partners or is particularly connected to their homeland or poor, but take care to handle it with some sensitivity. Understand that there are implications to these things and real harm can be done by legitimizing racist stereotypes.

[aliciaandandrea]

Family Friend - Zayn Oneshot Part 2 (FULL)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Damn okay it has been 7 years since I posted the part 2 preview of this oneshot. I haven’t been active on tumblr for a couple of years so this might be weird for my new followers, and I don’t even know if people still read smut now a days. But I’ve gotten notifications about people liking the posts on this series plus I received messages about the full part 2 of this series over the years. So to those people who messaged me and/or for those people who wanted an update, this is for you (just a disclaimer: I was 18 when I wrote the preview and am now 25...so if this is cringy or you think I’ve lost my touch, I apologize LOL):

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It has been a week since the cottage and I haven’t heard from Zayn since. I should have saw it coming. We almost hooked up, but I’m glad we didn’t, especially with that attitude of his. I was going through my phone and I decided to text Shawn, who’s been my crush before Zayn entered back into the picture.

“Heyy Shawn…” I texted him. “Hey Y/N :) Whats up?” he texted back. “Bored as always, you?” I asked “Same, I feel like we haven’t hung out at all this summer :(” he wrote. “lol thats because we haven’t” I texted. “Well let me make it up to you. My friend and his gf are goin to the movies tonight and asked if I wanted to go…I don’t wanna be the third wheel…do you wanna join?”he texted me. Did this guy just ask me out? “I’d love to :), just text me the details.” I texted back. And he did just that. I put on my low cut grey graphic tank with a black bralette under it and my black maxi skirt, while putting my hair up in a half up-do and keeping my makeup natural.

Before I could touch up my doorbell rang. I opened the door thinking it was Shawn but then stormed inside Zayn with no explanation. “What do you want?” I said bitterly as I closed the door after he walked inside. “You can’t fucking call me back?” he said looking at me. “What the hell are you talking about Zayn” I said walking up to him. “What do you call this?” he said tossing me his phone. On the screen was his call log, He’s called me once every day, except..that wasn’t my number. It was a fake one I gave as a joke when he asked for it one day. “Zayn that's not my number,” I said giving back his phone. “What the fuck is your problem then? You know I have fucking feelings for you !” He said fed up. I didn't know what to say. He just told me he had feelings for me. “Zayn..I..” I said trying to hold his hand but he pulled it away and turned away from me. “Fine. You wanna behave like that go ahead. And don't fucking tell me that I’m playing you. You’ve been teasing me ever since you found out that I liked you and then you almost hookup with me leaving me with a hickey that was hard to explain at dinner with mine and your parents and then you don't even fucking talk or try to reach out to me in a week. Don’t you even go there.” I said angrily. At this point we were both pissed. We managed to both profess our feelings and hatred towards each other…all at the same time. We were going to either end up fucking on my couch or wrestle on it. “Did you not see the phone calls that I supposedly made out to you. And why the fuck have I been hearing from people that you’ve been sleeping around with other guys?” “What the fuck Zayn? You hear anything you want to believe don't you. This entire time I’ve been thinking of you, you idiot.” I said as he chuckled. He composed himself then stared at me, “Where the fuck are you going?” “To the movies..with Shawn.” I said looking down. “And this is what I’m talking about, you’re going out with a loser and trying to get laid with that outfit.” he said as his body tensed up, looking up and down at me. At that point I was pissed, but I was not going to let that jerk ruin my night. We both stared at each other angrily. My ringtone broke the silence, Shawn was calling me. “Hey Shawn,” I said out loud for Zayn to here as I glared at him. He shot me an irritated look. “Yeah I’ll be there soon, can’t wait to finally see you,” I flirted with Shawn making Zayn jealous. “Yeah its been a long time,” I said as I ‘accidentally’ put my phone on speaker so Zayn could hear. “Maybe you could stay over for breakfast,” Shawn joked but that's when Zayn snapped. He grabbed my phone, hung it up and threw it onto the couch. He looked at me with a lustful look as I furrowed my eyebrows at him, but was secretly loving the fact that he was jealous. Jealous Zayn was probably my favorite Zayn. “That’s it,” he growled at me as he threw me over his shoulder. “Zayn put me down!! What the fuck are you doing??” I said playing victim, even though I knew what he was going to do. “Something I should have done a long time ago.” Zayn said as he kicked the door shut and threw me onto my bed. “I don’t know what you think you’re about to do right now, but I’ve got a date to get to tonight” I said eyeing him as he climbed on top of me. “Yeah?”. Zayn asked as he bit my bottom lip causing me to let out a little whimper, “What was his name again?”, Zayn asked as he was kissing my jawline and biting the sensitive area. I blanked out for a good few seconds, wanting to wrap my legs around him and pull him closer, but I couldn’t let him win this one. “Ohh yess Shawn..” I moaned to irritate Zayn while pulling his hair. He stared me down but before we could continue, the doorbell rang. “Fuck”, Zayn said as he got off me. Zayn got to the door before I could and of course there was Shawn looking confused as to why there was a man at my house with disheveled hair.

“Hey Y/N..” Shawn said to me, as Zayn stared daggers. “Can we help you?” Zayn asked, "We’re in the middle of something important, so it’d be great if you can, I don’t know, fuck off?” he continued with a smirk. “Sorry, Shawn, I’m ready we can go,” I said to him before turning back to get my bag. “I don’t know where you think you’re going,” Zayn said looking at me before turning back to Shawn. “You know what, maybe we can go out another time, I didn’t realize - ...” Shawn started to say before getting rudely interrupted by Zayn who said “Didn’t realize what? That she already had a boyfriend? Fuck off now will you.” Zayn shuts the door on Shawn, and blocks me from trying to open it.

“What the fuck are you doing Zayn?” I asked trying to move him to open the door. He gently grabs my wrists and looked into my eyes, “We need to finish what we started”, he says hungrily. I manage to free my wrists, push Zayn against the door, then proceed to walk away from him, “In your dreams“ I say flipping him off from behind me. Before I know it Zayn has picked me up bridal style and is taking me back to my bed. We’ve reached a point where we both want this to happen, as deep down we knew something had to be done with the intense sexual tension between us. I was torn between wanting to fuck like wild animals vs wanting to make slow and passionate love, to take our time and explore each other with the limited time frame we had. As if he read my mind, “Slow or rough?” Zayn asks as we arrive at the foot of the bed.

“Both”, I said as Zayn dropped me on top of the bed for the 2nd time tonight. He stood over me, slowly taking off his Denim Jacket, leaving him in his baggy grey t-shirt and black jeans. I looked at him impatiently, wanting to help him get out of his clothes, but he just smirked at me and said “Well, you said both”. Fine, he can take his time, but I’m not gonna wait any longer as I knew my parents were coming back home from their night out. I knelt on the bed in-front of him taking off my low cut grey graphic tank revealing the lacy black bralette under it, then pushed my girls into him aching for him to touch me. But he just stood there staring into my eyes, as he took off his baggy grey t-shirt. “What is he doing”, I thought to myself, “What are WE doing, playing follow the leader?”. It was getting too much for me, I needed him. I grabbed his face but decided to tease him by gently having our lips barely touch. “We don’t have much time, my parents might come home soon”, I whispered against his lips, desperate for him to give in. “What?” he said pulling back a little. “My parents might be home soon, plus -” Zayn stops me from continuing. “I want to take my time with you. And I know you need all of me. If we’re going to this, I don’t want a few minutes with you, I want you for as long as I can have you.” Zayn says holding my face. Look I know I could have shut my mouth and not brought up the fact that my parents were going to come home soon, but I couldn’t risk having them walk in on us like they almost had when we were at the cottage.

We both redressed and I walked Zayn to the door, as I needed Zayn to leave before my parents got back. “Can I have your actual number this time?” Zayn said as he pulled out his phone. I giggled and put my real number with a kiss and rose emoji as part of my contact name. “I’ll text you,” Zayn says before he opens the door. “Wait,” I said. Before I knew it I pushed him against the door again but this time I kissed him. We began making out, taking turns biting each others lips and teasing each other with our tongues. We tried to pull each other closer; I pulled on his hair as he groped me making me moan and whimper. We couldn’t get enough of each other, as we got lost in our little foreplay. All of a sudden, I heard a familiar honk, and a set of keys jiggling on the other side of the door. Fucking hell, my parents were home...

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LIKE/MESSAGE ME FOR PART 3 IF YOU WANT !

Link to part 1: http://aliciaandandrea.tumblr.com/post/92086930206/family-friend-zayn-oneshot

[caramelcal]

Songwriting and Fake Dating {2}

Word Count: 1.8k

a/n: hello guys! hope you’re having a good day/night so far, thanks for reading my work I really appreciate it. I appreciate every note, comment, repost, request that everyone sends in and I’m so glad that you guys enjoy my silly little pieces of writing lol...

However, I can’t take full credit for this so thank you so much to the kind people that sent me plot ideas, lots of lovee x 

 THIS WILL HAVE MORE PARTS!!! 

Also, how would you guys feel about me making a base Luke Patterson tag? Just an idea though! (sorry for the long a/n)

Tags:

@gia-kerks​ @phantompogues​ @thesweetestsinner​ @honeyheartzz​

disclaimer: i do not condone plagiarism on my work at all, this has not been posted on any other platforms, or on tumblr anywhere else but my account (rosemoonmist) if you see anyone plagiarizing mine (or anyone else’s account) please inform the rightful author ! thank you lovelies x

part 1   masterlist   next

The deal worked well. Luke kept his promise saying that he would keep everyone off your back, seeing you walk in with Luke Patterson kept guys pretty far away from you. It was like they knew that they shouldn’t mess with you, not only because you guys were together but because of how powerful you were both viewed as was insane. You guys were the school’s new power couple. That felt amazing.

Yet, as amazing as it felt it was still strange; the fact that the power couple wasn’t even really dating, and that you guys didn’t even like or talk to each other in the beginning.

Slowly but surely though, you got to know Luke. You knew there was always a little more to him than met the eye but after three weeks of you guys interacting with each other on a personal basis, you guys got extremely close. Too close for some people’s liking.

Of course, Luke wasn’t the only one that upheld his end of the bargain, you did too. Often, you found yourself thinking about new lyrics in school, jotting down scribbles in the corners of your textbooks and notes. Luke was right when he said you were an amazing songwriter. The rest of Luke’s band, Julie and the Phantoms, had been apprehensive when he got help from you to write songs, but after seeing something you wrote for them they were convinced of your talent and were very eager to have you write more songs for them.

Actually, most people were glad you were writing songs again. But no her, not Carrie. In fact, she was furious that you were writing songs for them, despite knowing of the deal. Instead of encouraging you and praising you for finally getting into writing songs properly and utilizing your talents, she argued with you for ‘helping the rival band’ and saying that you ‘didn’t care about Dirty Candy’. She knew that wasn’t true but the fact she still said it hurt you.

Yet, even though you and your best friend’s relationship was slightly fractured at the moment, you still arrived at her house for practice. New choreography had been introduced that you had to learn, and you heard from another Dirty Candy member, Kayla, that it was super confusing.

Naturally, you ended up at Carrie’s on Tuesday evening, ready for a night full of dancing, learning confusing choreography, and laughing with the other girls. You had been Carrie’s best friend long enough to know just to walk into her house without knocking, knowing that Trevor and Emily weren’t home, Luke would be up in his room, and Carrie too far away in the studio to hear you knock. 

Treading through the house, on your way to go the studio you have your bag slung over your shoulder, subconsciously humming a song. That was until you hear someone call from behind you, “Y/n?”

Turning around, you see Luke there and give him a smile and a wave. He walks up closer to you, jumping down the stairs and landing just in front of you, rocking back on his heels. A smile lights upon his face as he opens his mouth, starting to speak, “I was messing around with the melody a little for this song you wrote, if you quickly came to my room I could show you on my guitar.”

Luke points in the direction that he came from, taking a step backward as you look at him unsure. He holds a hand out to you with a small cheeky smile, almost as if he knows that you’re itching to hear it. You quickly glance back in the direction of the studio before giving in, “Fine, fine, but be quick. I have choreography practice for Dirty Candy I can’t miss.”

Luke gives you a beaming smile as you place your hand in his, which he grasps before pulling you along the hallway, not leaving you too long to dwell on the studio session.

One second you’re just entering Luke’s room, letting him play you the chords on his guitar and giving him a few pointers, seconds later you guys are working on tweaking lyrics and you hear the girl’s chatter from downstairs. Wide eyes meeting Luke’s you realize that the girls are leaving.

Eyes glance over to Luke’s alarm clock and you realize it hasn’t just been a few minutes, it’s been two hours. Two hours of vital practice for Dirty Candy that you blew off for Luke, again. Carrie was not going to be happy if she found out.

However, luck doesn’t seem to be on your or Luke’s side as you hear a knocking sound from Luke’s bedroom door, “Luke?”

It’s Carrie. Eyes darting towards each other, Luke indicates for you to hide, helping you crouch down out of sight. You’re behind Luke’s bed, too scared to even peek over the comforter to stare at Luke’s bedroom door as Luke tells Carrie to come in.

When Carrie comes in, Luke’s bedroom is tidier than normal, fewer clothes splayed on the floor, but bedsheets still ruffled and a wide array of objects splayed on his desk and shelves, along with his bed. When she speaks to Luke, she walks closer to the bed, voice quiet.

“y/n didn’t show up for practice again,” You cringed at that, knowing that you were guilty of getting caught up in writing songs with Luke. However, you had never got caught up writing songs in Carrie’s house, this was a new low for you, “I just wondered if you had heard from her.”

Guilt bubbles in your stomach when you realize that Carrie sounds worried for you. She should be, you hadn’t checked your phone for two hours and the last time you texted her you said that you were on your way over. She expected better from you than to blow her off for her brother, and you should have too.

“No,” Luke dismisses, clearing his throat awkwardly as he shares a tight-lipped smile with his sister, who stares at him strangely.

“Okay...Wait,” Carrie starts to sigh but stops talking, allowing you to hear her feet come further into the room, her eyes catch onto something, “Is that...y/n’s? IS Y/N HERE WITH YOU?”

At the sound of her louder voice, you cringe physically. You can hear the utter betrayal and anger in her voice when she thinks you’re here. You knew that if she found out she would be livid but this sounded worse than you imagined. Much worse. Before you put Luke in an awkward position and make him lie to his sister, you stood up, eyes squinting slightly as you stared at the livid version of your best friend.

Her fists clench at her sides and she puffs her chest out as she looks at you, eyes widening slightly. Nothing is said as Luke looks awkwardly between the two of you. You open your mouth, looking at Carrie before hesitantly speaking, “Carrie, listen-”

However, Carrie wasn’t up for your excuses, storming out of the room. Without even looking over at the boy who stayed on his bed, you rushed out after your best friend, “Carrie, please!”

Grabbing onto her shoulder, you manage to get Carrie to stop walking away from you but instead, she whirls around angrily, eyes widened even further as she rejects your touch. She points a finger towards you and takes a menacing step forward, causing you to step backward, “You know what y/n? I was annoyed when you started writing for our rival band but now you’re blowing off practice to help them?”

Unable to speak, you simply watch carry with your lips slightly apart. You had seen Carrie mad before, but you had never had it directed at you. Her arms retreat from pointing threateningly at you and instead, she crossed her arms over her chest, scoffing at you, “It’s clear to see where your priorities lie. That’s it, you’re done. You’re no longer welcome in Dirty Candy.”

“Carrie please-” You begin to speak, almost pleadingly but she puts a hand in front of her, her palm facing you, like a sign to stop you from talking. 

“I don’t even want to hear it,” She spits out, giving you a distasteful look, “get out of my house. You’re no longer welcome here.”

. . .

You walk with your head ducked when you’re in school the next day, books hugged to your chest. People don’t stare at you like they usually do, because neither Carrie nor Luke was by your side. Not only a sad reminder of what happened yesterday, but of the fact that you were nothing without your best friend. Everything with Luke was fake, Carrie was supposed to be your best friend.

How could you let her down like that?

How could you get caught up in a boy? Right from the beginning you and Carrie had a deal, that you would never let a boy get between the two of you, that you would never prioritize someone else over each other. You broke that, with her stepbrother of all people. You had two deals, one with Carrie and one with Luke, and you knew you had to pick between the two of them.

The only plan of action you could think to get back into Dirty Candy and back to being Carrie’s friend was that you apologized and begged to be in her band again, dropped Luke and hope that she took some sort of pity on your soul.

“Hey! Y/n!” You spun around, eyes looking up to catch onto the hazel eyes that jogged over to you, a book in his hand. He landed right in front of you, giving you a small smile as he indicated to the book in his hands, “You left this in my room yesterday...”

Your eyes glanced down to the notebook in his hand, the one that you were writing songs in, and a bitter taste fills your mouth. Yet another reminder of last night, and all of the mistakes you made. Shaking your head lightly, you took the notebook from the boy without a word.

“I know it’s probably best you don’t see Carrie right now, so how about you come over to Julie’s garage tonight?”

Looking up at him with saddened eyes, you shook your head as you muttered, “We can’t do this anymore.”

“What do you mean, y/n?” Luke asked breathily, eyebrows furrowing as he rocked on his heels. People bustled about the corridors but paid no mind to your conversation, too wrapped up in their own business but all of Luke’s attention was on you.

“This,” You repeated, using your hand to gesture between the two of you. You saw as his eyes fell to your hand, eyebrows raising slightly, “We can’t. Not anymore.”

He leaned closer to you, almost ensuring no one overheard you as he spoke lowly into your ear, “It’s part of the deal, y/n.”

“A deal we never should’ve made,” You started, holding your hand out to Luke’s chest so he couldn’t advance on you.

As you started up into Luke’s eyes, you frowned a little. Luke was a good person, and you guys bonded so well, not only over music, but tv shows, movies, common interests.. You guys just clicked. The past few weeks had been great, but you couldn’t put your best friend on the back burner just because of a few happy days.

“I got kicked out of Dirty Candy for our little deal,” You snapped bitterly, shaking your head wildly. Luke’s eyebrows shot up, mouth opening in shock as he stared down at you, “I lost my best friend. I’m sorry Luke but Carrie comes first. Over everything, especially our stupid little deal.”

With that, you walked away, leaving Luke in the distance. You didn’t even turn back to look at him...

[derekmorganscrocs]

Galentines Gone Wrong

Pairing: Wendell Bray x Reader, Valentine’s Special.

Word Count: 2,623

Summary: Y/n Booth is an FBI agent who works under her brother Seeley Booth and is also partnered with the Jeffersonian. Valentines rolls around and Cam, Daisy, and Y/n are all painfully single. Brennen and Angela join in and the group decides it’s girls night, get absolutely smashed, cause major chaos and get arrested for disturbing the peace. When their counterparts show up to bail them out, girls night turns to date night... or whatever this is.

Edit, March 11th: I hate the end of this. I reread it and it’s lowkey trash, but I’m going to keep it up because people seem to be enjoying it. Just a disclaimer that this is not my best work.

Notes: Tbh I second guessed this yesterday, hence the late post. I want to clarify that Wendell IS NOT preying on a drunk girl, and there was no drunk hookup. This is definitely not my favourite thing I’ve written and I was so out of ideas for the ending, but fck it, I have a migraine and feel like the personification of death. ALSO I WOULD NEVER USE GALENTINES IRL IK ITS LAME BUT I SIMPLY DO NOT CARE. HOLDIDAY SPIRIT BABES. Anyway, on with the show.

It’s been a long night. Fun, but long. You wake up against Daisy’s side, stretching lazily, and still partially drunkenly. As you sit up, you recall the events that led to your current seat in a drunk tank.

The five of you ended up in a biker bar, huge leather-clad and big bearded dudes all over the damn place. Despite being big scary bikers, they were chill and actually bought half of your drinks. Then you and Daisy got a little too close to an attractive younger biker, and his girlfriend was not having it. So an argument turned full on brawl caused the lot of you to bail out of the bar and trek back into town.

Only you were real rowdy, laughing and singing, a little to loudly for anyone’s liking. And got the cops called on you. And got thrown in a dunk tank. Unfortunately “you can’t arrest me, I am the law” doesn’t work if you’re drunk. The cops weren’t a fan of your badge, either.

You’re torn from your thoughts at the sound of voices down the hall, and you stumble over the the bars of the cell, holding onto them for balance. A half-hour nap didn’t do much to sober you up. The voices get closer, and your friends and brother walk in. Wendell’s the first one you notice, your eyes immediately darting to him. He’s wearing a hot ass black jacket, jeans and a white T-shirt, and you stare at him for a lot longer than you should.

“Hey, BJ. Never thought I’d see you on the other side of the bars.” Hodgins laughs at your expression of annoyance, and lets the cop they’re with open the cell door. He walks over to grab Angela, and you scoff.

“I told you to stop calling me BJ. I know you mean Booth Junior, but other people might think something else,” you mutter, much less than impressed at the innuendo tied to the nickname.

Your brother and Sweets go collect Brennan and Daisy, and Cam stands up on her own. She’s the most level-headed of all of you, and she’s completely sobered up now. Wendell walks to your side, your brother is too occupied with his (much less coordinated than you are) wife. Wendell puts an arm around you, and you gladly lean into him, hands settling on his chest.

“You’ll never guess what we did,” you giggle drunkenly against Wendell’s chest, overcome with the giddiness of a schoolgirl with a crush.

“Apparently you guys disturbed a lot of peace.” Wendell has somewhat of an impressed/concerned/entertained smirk on his face. He looks down at you, massively interested in the story as to how you got here. Not that he’ll hear it anytime soon.

“How’d you know?!” You look up at him with surprise written all over your face, a gasp escaping your lips, and it takes a lot for him not to burst out laughing.

“The sheriff told me. Let’s take you home, okay?”

“Okay,” you mumble, much more sullenly than five seconds ago.

Wendell keeps an arm around you, more than a little worried that you’re gonna fall over, and takes you to his car. You get in the front seat, smacking his hand away as he tries to help with your seatbelt. After successfully buckling the seatbelt, you glance back at him with a smirk.

“You know if you wanted to get on top of me all you had to do was ask.”

Wendell nearly chokes and dies at what you’re insinuating. He’s also not sure if this is the tequila talking or if it’s you talking. Composing himself quickly, he lets out a chuckle, saying something along the lines of ‘okay then,’ and closes the door for you. He walks around the front of the car, making his way to the driver’s seat. Hodgins drives by, Angela and Cam in the car with him, and waves as he heads home.

Seeley pulls up beside Wendell, looking at him sternly. Daisy and Brennen are singing in the back seat, and Wendell can see Sweets in the front seat, holding back laughter. It’s a funny sight really, the usually stoic Dr. Brennen and overly excitable Daisy, swaying together in the back seat singing an off-key rendition of piano man. Seeley makes a face at a certain piercing high note that comes from Dr. Brennan, before turning to Wendell.

“Listen man, I appreciate it. If we didn’t live on the opposite side of town, I’d take her home.” Seeley leans out the window slightly, looking at Wendell.

“It’s no problem, really.” Wendell smiles, giving your brother a small wave as he turns to get in his car. “I’ll make sure she gets home safe.”

“Wait! Not that I think you will, but don’t try anything. Alright?”

“Course not, man. Don’t worry, I got this. Head home, I’ll text you when I get Y/n home.” Wendell knows your brother means no harm, obviously, yet can’t help but think about why he’d even think to say that to him.

When he gets back in the car, seeing you sleeping soundly in the passenger seat, curled up and leaning against the window, his worries melt away and he smiles. He turns the car on and lowers the radio volume before driving off.

Tonight summarizes the two of you pretty well, actually. Y/n, the chaotic do-good-er badass, and Wendell, the (sometimes also chaotic) best friend, who always has your back. Sometimes it pains him that you only see him as that, a best friend, but he’s okay with just being that. A friend. Because it means he gets to see you happy. Little does he know, you wouldn’t have gotten so sauced tonight if you weren’t drinking away the thoughts of his lips on yours, his skin pressed against yours as the night turns to morning, the idea of a spark that doesn’t exist. The day of love sucks.

And for some reason, neither of you can see that you’re crazy about each other. Maybe it’s because you’re afraid to ruin what you have, or maybe it’s because you’re both just oblivious, but it doesn’t make a huge difference. Nothing seems to be happening.

Wendell is occupied with a lot of thoughts as he drives to your place. His mind bounces all over the place. He thinks about how you met, when you first walked into the Jeffersonian covered in dirt and sweat (in a cute way... even though he thinks anything is cute on you) after a chase in the desert, just to see your brother and make sure he was okay. He also thinks about the time he literally ran into you and the two of you fell down the platform stairs. The alarms went off, and everyone stared at the pair of you tangled up on the floor. Needless to say it took a while to live that one down. He thinks about every time he’s seen you laugh, and the few that he’s seen you cry. Not that you really even cried, you just couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. You don’t exactly do emotions, not out in the open at least.

He thinks about every reason he’s so smitten with you. You’re courageous, selfless, you protect your friends and family, you’re cutthroat and ferocious, yet simultaneously the sweetest person he’s ever met. You care about every detail of his day when you ask how he’s doing, and you can tell when the slightest thing is off with him, or anyone else at the lab, except for noticing his flaming crush on you. And as he thinks about all the little things, he realizes it can’t stay bottled up forever. He has to tell you.

Before long, you’re home. The two and a half hour drive have Wendell a lot of time to think, yet somehow it also feels like he’s had no time at all. The time has also started your trail toward sobriety, and you can at least think coherently. Wendell wakes you, and when you wake up, your hand goes to your head.

“Good god. Did I get hit by a bus?” Your words are still slightly jumbled together, but you’re getting back to business as usual, and that’s good enough.

“There she is,” he singsongs playfully, glad to see your usual demeanour starting to return. You unbuckle your seatbelt, groaning when you go to move. Wendell offers you a hand, and you take it.

Helping you up, he puts an arm around your waist again. You stumble slightly, and when he catches you, you fall against him, leaning against his chest. He ends up just scooping you up off the ground and carrying you inside, placing you on the couch. You’re mostly in good shape, just awful clumsy and distracted due to your headache. Wendell heads into the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water and some crackers.

“How you doing?” He sits by your thigh, putting an arm on the back of the couch and looking over at you. You cover your face with your hands, laughing gently.

“Ugh, please tell me I didn’t actually make the worst sex implication joke ever.”

“Um...”

“Oh shit. This is embarrassing.” You sit up, still a little tipsy, but not as messed up as you were at the police station. Maybe if things go off you can play it off as Valentine’s tequila. “Fuck it. I’m just gonna go for it. Tonight was fun or whatever, but I really wanted to spend it with you.”

“We could’ve done that. We can hang out this weekend if you want.”

“No, no. You really are a blonde.” You laugh, nudging his shoulder with your fist. Suddenly nervous, you start to ramble. “Not that that’s bad, because you’re definitely pretty. You’re a cute blonde, and you do have really nice arms, they’re really toned, and you know, at the garage you wear these tight shirts and sometimes I just stare and I worry you see, but-“

“Y/n! You’re getting off track here.” He puts a hand on your shoulder, laughing at your rambles. “Maybe we should talk about this tomorrow.”

“I like you a lot.” The words are out of your mouth before he’s even finished his sentence. “Like I have feelings for you?” It comes out like a question, but it’s meant as more of a fearful statement.

“Wait, really?” His eyes widen and his smile falls. At first you think he’s about to run for the hills, but when a small smile appears on his face you’re not so sure.

“Ah, shit, I shouldn’t have said anything,” you curse, rolling your eyes at your own stupidity. That’s fuckin embarrassing.

“No, I like you, too. A lot.” Wendell takes your hand, and you lay against his side as he keeps talking. “We can talk more, when you’re sober. But I do like you. And I think that if we decided that this weekend’s hangout was more ‘ice skating in the park’ instead of ‘trying to kill each other at the rink’, I’d be more than okay with that. I’d like that a lot, actually.” He lets out a small, nervous chuckle, and he glances down at you, fingers grazing your cheek as he contemplates if it would be weird to cup your face with his hand and run his thumb over your cheek.

“Really?” You look up at him with an adorable awestruck expression, and he nearly bursts out laughing.

“Yeah, really.” A smile stays glued to his face, and he shifts slightly, which causes you to sit up. “Now, you should probably go to bed, so that you’re not completely useless tomorrow.”

Wendell plants a small kiss on the top of your head, before standing and scooping you up, bringing you to your room. He drops you gently on your bed, and you let out a small giggle as you bounce slightly with the impact. You banish him from your room so that you can change, and not really paying attention, grab a black hoodie and shorts out of your closet. When you open the door again, he’s just leaning against the wall outside.

“Sorry, I didn’t know where you wanted me to set up- is that my hoodie? I’ve been looking for that!”

“Huh?” You look down at the sweater, seeing the small Jeffersonian logo on the left side of the chest, and the initials on the sleeve. “Oh, I guess it is.” You remember when he gave it to you, he couldn’t stand the idea of you remaining in your blood soaked T-shirt, the grey had become a sticky maroon, too much so to be comfortable. “You can have it back-“

“No, you keep it.” He steps closer, lifting your chin so that you look at him, and brushing a stray hair out of your face. His voice drops, becoming softer and breathy. “It’s much cuter on you anyway,” he murmurs, making you blush profusely, a little laugh escaping your lips.

The two of you fall silent, each staring at the other’s lips. A hum comes from the furnace, causing you both to startle slightly, and it ends the moment. You glance back at Wendell again, before sitting on your bed. He tilts his head at you, mildly confused as to what you’re doing.

“Where did you want me to sleep?”

“Wherever you want. There’s blankets and a few pillows in the closet.”

He thanks you and walks out, and you breathe in deeply, not realizing how shallow your breathing had become. Your mind is racing, and so is your heart. This is simultaneously about the best and worst Valentine’s you’ve ever had. As you mull over the events of tonight, you slide under the blankets, laying back and staring at the ceiling. The shuffling in your living room comes to a stop, and you can hear Wendell coming back to your room. He stops in the doorway.

“Came back to say goodnight,” he says softly, making your heart melt.

“You mind staying for a while?” You sit up, looking at him. He glances over his shoulder at you, a perplexed expression plastered on his face. “What?! I’ve had a rough night,” you say, pretending to be offended. He makes his way over, laying on your bed, on top of the blankets. You roll over and face him, looking up at him lazily. “Goodnight, Wendell.”

You drift off to sleep fairly quickly, but not before you subconsciously lay your head on his chest. He’s terrified at first, frozen in place and afraid to breathe, but after a few minutes he collects himself and calms down. You sleep soundly, curled up beside Wendell. He’s warm and he smells good, and he’s pretty comfortable. By the morning, the two of you are completely intertwined, tangled in blankets and each others’ arms.

The two of you grab a greasy breakfast (and some Advil) and spend the day together, actually talking about what happened the night before. Most of the day is spent at your place, you and Wendell lounging around on your couch as you binge watch your favourite series and try to overcome your hangover.

The next days and weeks fly by, you and Wendell getting closer and closer. The pair of you go on a few dates before things are made official, Wendell going as far as taking you on a walk in the snow and officially asking you out by the outdoor rink. He even reserved ice time so the two of you could skate around like idiots and pass a puck around.

And eventually, when people start to see you’re together, and ask about your story, you have to tell them he bailed you out of jail after Galantine’s gone wrong.