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hassedah · 1 year

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Eloise is the chalice of MC :

Hi! How are you? I hope you are well! ^^

This headcanon is a response to this request. I hope you enjoy it. ^^

Take care of yourself and have a good day! ^^

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It was you that Eloise designated to be her vampire. You had just returned from a walk in the city when you heard all the commotion in the garden and smelled the blood. You hurried to your roommates fearing that there was still a problem at home while you were away. You saw the body of the young woman among Vladimir's flowers. When you asked what had happened Ethan shouted at you that it was "all Ivan's fault" because obviously the fact that none of the other five managed to stop a young human woman from climbing two flights of stairs to one of the rooms furthest away from the entrance of the house cannot be their fault. No, of course, the poor young woman managed to escape five vampires in a mansion, not because they're relatively incompetent, but by sheer luck.

When Vladimir asked her who should save her, she pointed to you, the only person who hadn't terrified her. After transforming her, you carried her to a free bedroom, you couldn't leave her on a sofa without any privacy, or on the cold floor, and even less in the garden, that would be really rude and disrespectful, the poor woman had already been shaken up enough.

Then you waited for her to wake up to explain what had happened, which wasn't easy as your dear, beloved roommates were busy blaming each other. You told her everything in detail, she was now a chalice, you were a vampire, she couldn't run away because of the bond, you can only feed on her blood. You tried to reassure her as best you could, which isn't exactly easy when Ethan is slamming doors and screaming in the manor, Ivan is looking at her like he's going to devour her, Aaron is still struggling with the concept of privacy, Raphael is singing the praises of his undead life every five minutes while justifying his roommates' abysmal behavior, Beliath is making advances on her, and Vladimir is determined to behave like a little despot ever since he arrived.

You don't know why, but Vladimir is unbearable, and you know even less why he thought he could come and yell at Eloise because of her ransacked garden, but clearly you don't intend to let him continue his nonsense in this way.

Vladimir :

Vladimir has rarely felt so stressed. Your chalice is the daughter of the people he killed. Of course, he never wanted to kill them, it's Neil's fault. But that's no reason. He feels like he's going to be sick, the anxiety is turning his stomach. Besides, the young woman is now your chalice, so he can't even kick her out.

Vladimir is still a little upset about the night you came to his room with Eloise and demanded that he apologise after almost slapping her. Of course, he knows he went too far, but... his garden was destroyed. You did not listen to his justifications and after a long argument he finally apologised. You find it very difficult to understand Vladimir's reaction, If he had just come to you before he went to yell at Eloise you could have both talked about his garden and found a way to help him fix it.

It's hard to have a good relationship with someone you've tried to slap after meeting them for the first time just 24 hours before. Eloise and Vladimir don't get on very well and she doesn't like being alone in the same room with him. You don't want to force her either, as this would serve no purpose other than to make their relationship even more difficult. Besides, it's not she cup to make an effort, after all, it was Vladimir who behaved like a cad with the young woman.

What Vladimir regrets most of all is that it has damaged your relationship. You got on well before all this. You used to come and read with him in the library and even let him talk about Darcy and his garden without ever reproaching him for being boring about it. He tries to convince himself that it's all Eloise's fault and that if she hadn't been there everything would have gone on as normal, but he knows that he behaved very badly to her.

After a long week, during which he avoided the young woman like the plague. He eventually realises that this is not very mature behaviour (in fact, it was Raphael who told him he was being rude). He tries to sympathise with Eloise, but his efforts are broken by the fact that she clearly doesn't trust him, she refuses to talk to him, if you are not in the room with her. After all, she's already nearly been hit once for no reason, she won't risk it happening again. So at first, you stay with them in each discussion.

Then little by little Eloise felt more comfortable being alone with Vladimir, as he did not have any more tantrums. As a result, your relationship with Vladimir slowly returned to normal. The two of you are talking again and spending time together often. You even helped him to tidy up his garden, which made him really happy, he had missed this kind of time with you.

Objectively, Beliath isn't the one who gives you the most trouble. He teases Eloise a lot, but he cares enough to bring her things she likes to eat, he even bought her a new dress to replace the one that was damaged during her fall. In addition, you often see him trying to make her laugh or take her mind off things. The only thing you could blame him for is that he is sometimes a bit too flirty with your chalice and Eloise doesn't seem to be really comfortable with that.

Béliath :

Beliath didn't really know how to react at first. The idea of having a chalice seemed as amusing as it was annoying, and he's mostly watching your reaction to Eloise to see how to behave with her. As he sees that you are quick to defend him from others, he decides to do as you do. After all, he is your friend and if you care about her then so does he. Finally, he even finds himself liking.

However, even though you know that Beliath is not a bad person, he is sometimes very intrusive and this makes Eloise uncomfortable and she cannot always get him to stop. You have had to intervene several times to ask Beliath to leave Eloise alone. However, this is about the only thing you had to do. Once Beliath realised that his behaviour was making Eloise feel uncomfortable he stopped. It is quite relaxing for you because he is one of the first people you are not afraid to leave alone with Eloise, after all, despite what Vladimir says, Beliath is not an irresponsible idiot and you know very well that he will take care of the young woman.

In any case, Eloise's arrival has had no real effect on your relationship with Beliath. You spend a little less time with him, especially at the beginning, because you want to help Eloise adapt to her new way of life, but once she gets used to living with you the situation returns to normal. You start coming to the Moondance with Beliath and Ethan again, or going on those long shopping trips that the incubus loves so much. Beliath is not even bothered by the idea of Eloise accompanying you from time to time.

In the end, Eloise and Beliath even get along quite well, as long as Ethan is not there to influence Beliath's behaviour for the worse.When you're not with Eloise, she often spends time with Beliath, who has even agreed to take her to the Moondance despite Ethan's complaints about it. It makes you feel good to see that Beliath cares for her. Even though you had to insist that he or Ethan take her back to the manor every time after the Moondance. After all, there are wolves in the forest, not animals that an eighteen year old woman can fight with her bare hands.

Also, Eloise and Beliath get along pretty well the vast majority of the time, as long as Ethan isn't around to influence Beliath's behaviour for the worse. When you're not with Eloise, she often spends time with Beliath, who even agreed to take her to the Moondance despite Ethan's complaints about it. It makes you feel good to see that Beliath cares for her. Even though you had to insist that he or Ethan walk her back to the manor every time after the Moondance. After all, there are wolves in the forest, they are not animals that an eighteen year old woman can fight with her bare hands.

After the first few murders, Beliath becomes a little more protective of Eloise. He realises that your survival depends on her survival and he has finally grown attached enough to her to consider her a full member of the manor. Losing both of you at once would be devastating and he certainly doesn't want that to happen. He's working with you to make sure Eloise is always safe, even if he continues to take her with him to the Moondance so that she can take her mind off of things and have a little fun despite all the murders.

You're quite worried about another accident happening, especially because your housemates are persisting with the idea of getting the two younger ones together again. Which you don't want to do at all until Eloise is less stressed. She is still afraid of him, which you can understand, and it is not by forcing a rapprochement that neither of them wants that they will become friends.

Ivan :

He was extremely stressed about Eloise staying at the mansion and even more so about the idea of you being tied to her. After all, if he were to hurt her you would be directly affected. So for the first few weeks, he totally refused to be in the same place as her, let alone unsupervised. The last thing he wanted was for another accident to happen.

At first, Ivan is mostly relieved that you are not angry with him. He was afraid that with Eloise's arrival you would no longer pay any attention to him and that even worse you would be angry at him for hurting her. Ivan's stress made you feel bad, of course, but you already had Eloise to take care of so you couldn't take care of him as much as you would have liked. However, you made sure that you always spent some time with him. So you could see that he was less and less affected by Eloise's presence in the manor, although still stressed.

It took Eloise a long time to agree to meet Ivan. The others had insisted that you force them to meet as soon as possible but you did not give in. There is no point in them meeting if Eloise is afraid of Ivan attacking her and Ivan is afraid of attacking Eloise. You simply waited until they were both ready to meet.

It took Eloise a long time to agree to meet Ivan. The others had been very insistent that you force them to meet as soon as possible but you didn't give in. After all, Eloise kept jumping whenever she saw Ivan in a corridor and you felt all her anxiety because of your bond. So it was obvious to you that it was a bad idea to rush them. After all, they need time and patience, especially if you want the meeting to go well.

It finally happened after several weeks. It was probably not the best first meeting, but they were able to talk for half an hour together under your supervision. Eloise didn't get very far from you during this discussion, but they managed to joke around a bit and Eloise even agreed to meet him again later on. You are proud of them, because you were sure that everything would be fine if you gave them some time to recover from their emotions.

Little by little, they didn't even need your presence to discuss things together and you were able to resume a more or less normal life in the manor, resuming your movie and video game evenings in Ivan's room, Eloise even joining you sometimes to play a few games with you or watch a movie.

When the murders started in town, their relationship didn't even deteriorate. Eloise trusted Ivan enough to know that he was not to blame. It was a real relief to you who had feared for a while that Eloise's fears would take over again.

Ivan, on the other hand, takes great care to ensure Eloise's safety. After all, you depend on Eloise's health and Ivan doesn't want you to get hurt because he couldn't protect her. You can therefore make regular rounds around the manor with Aaron or Ethan without worrying about the young woman because you know she is safe.

Aaron is very sweet, he looks after Eloise when you are not around and sometimes even keeps her company. But you really wish he would stop talking nonsense about Eloise owing you obedience as a chalice. While you would appreciate it if she didn't kill herself trying to run away, she is not your dog. And just because some vampires lock their chalices in the cellar and only deal with them when they're hungry doesn't mean Eloise should be grateful that you don't.

Aaron :

Aaron tries to help you as best he can with Eloise. This usually involves bringing her back to the manor after she has tried to run away again. He is quite impressed by her stubbornness, but also upset because these attempts to run away put you in danger in his opinion. So their relationship is not good.

Eloise's arrival has not really affected your relationship with Aaron. You spend a little less time with him of course because you have to look after her. But you still go for walks in the forest with Aaron whenever you have some free time. This makes Aaron happy because he has always enjoyed your long walks in the forest.

Eloise, however, doesn't like Aaron very much and you find it a little hard to understand why at first. After all, Aaron looks out for her and is much nicer to her than Vladimir or Ethan are. You would have thought that the two of them would get along very well and you are a little disappointed that this is not the case.

You understand better the reasons for their disagreement after several weeks. When Eloise came to you and shouted that she had never asked you to save her and that she did not want to obey you like a little dog. It took you several minutes to understand what she was getting at and to calm her down. Eloise told you what Aaron had said to her about obeying and being grateful to you as a Chalice. And to tell you the truth, you felt a little hurt. You had never thought of the young woman in that way.

So you went to discuss it with Aaron. But the discussion was rather complicated, Aaron couldn't see what he had said about Eloise that was wrong, despite your explanation. You argued a bit and eventually went back to Eloise in order to reassure her of your intentions towards her.

Despite this, you did not stay at odds for long. Aaron came to talk to you the very next day, after telling Raphael about your fight. He understands that he misspoke about Eloise, he didn't want to give her the impression that you had all the rights over her and he understands that this may have upset you both. But it will take some time for Eloise to trust him, after all, she doesn't know Aaron as well as you do and she doesn't know that he is just tactless most of the time.

Their relationship improves when the first murders occur in town. You're worried about Eloise and you know you might not be around if she's attacked so you insist that she train to fight with Aaron. She only agreed to train with him because you trust her to do so, otherwise she would have gone to Raphael or Beliath. As the training goes on they get on better and better and Eloise is very proud to come and show you her progress after training with Aaron.

Like all your housemates, you like him very much. But you'd rather he kept his mouth shut than try to justify your roommates' abysmal behaviour with "But we are vampires!" Objectively, being a vampire has never prevented you from respecting simple rules of politeness, like not reading mail that doesn't belong to you or threatening someone. Yes, you are still thinking of Vladimir and Ethan when you say that.

Raphaël :

Raphael is so happy for you. He thinks it's a wonderful bond you've made with Eloise and he keeps telling you how lucky you are. You, on the other hand, don't totally agree with this. You find yourself bound for life to a young woman who has not really had a choice, your survival depends on hers and vice-versa and moreover you have to spend a lot of time reassuring her, because what eighteen year old girl would not be terrified to find herself in her situation? However, Raphael never listens to your explanations and continues to dream on his little cloud.

Raphael's reaction complicates your relationship a little. You're far too tense to listen to him go on and on about how lucky he thinks you are, and you really feel that he doesn't realise how stressful it really is to have someone you have to protect at all costs.

Moreover Eloise does not get on well with Raphael, you know this because she has told you how he always tries to justify Vladimir's or Ethan's bad behaviour. You have told her not to pay attention to what Raphael says, but she can't really do that and has even argued with him about it. You intervened before the argument escalated but despite Raphael's complaints you cannot prove the young woman wrong, after all, it is a bit inappropriate to justify Vladimir's behaviour with a simple "He's in a bad mood." Vladimir is not a fussy little boy, he is an adult.

However, Raphael does not hold a grudge against Eloise for long, mainly because he wants to keep a good relationship with you. Once everyone in the manor gets used to the presence of the young woman your relationship with Raphael returns to normal, you spend time with him again in the library and he continues to tell you about the new romance novels he has read. These are moments that he really enjoys and he is very happy to be able to spend this time with you again.

He suddenly seems to realise that the bond is not as positive as he said it was, when the first murders start. Suddenly he realises that Eloise's death would also be your death and the idea seems really scary.

He is very insistent that Eloise stay at the manor with everyone else and he really doesn't like the idea of her sometimes accompanying Beliath to the Moondance for fun. In his opinion, Eloise could just as easily have fun in the safety of the home. You have a bit of trouble getting Raphael to understand that the young woman needs to go out and have fun outside the manor to relax and especially to see people her own age.

You like him a lot, even though he is often in a bad mood. It's very nice to spend time with him and even if he annoys you sometimes, like all your housemates, you wouldn't let anyone hurt him. However, he has become quite unbearable since Eloise's arrival and if he continues to have fun scaring her or putting her down whenever they are in the same room you might get a bit angry.

Ethan :

He's always hated abrupt changes and Eloise is an abrupt change. Now, she's hanging around the mansion and trying to run away, putting you in danger. Ethan is having a hard time with this. Plus he thinks she's stupid, sure she's only eighteen, but he's sure he was never that stupid at eighteen and the worst part is that you're taking his side!

You didn't think it would be this hard with Ethan. You get on well with him normally and although he's always had a difficult temper, he's never been really aggressive with you and the two of you used to go out together or Moondance or to a bar. So you find it very difficult to understand why he is so aggressive with Eloise.

Eloise avoids him like the plague and because of your bond you can't really ignore the anxiety she feels when she's in the same room as the doctor, so you do your best to keep them together as little as possible.

You didn't hear it at first. It's almost as if Ethan took advantage of your absence to call Eloise "the pantry" or "the all-you-can-eat buffet". She didn't tell you about it either, so you didn't know about it until you heard her do it in the hallway.

To be honest, hearing it made your stomach turn. The words "the pantry", "the all-you-can-eat buffet", "the human" are very dehumanising! It was no wonder that Eloise seemed sad and on edge the last few days. Eloise has a name that you want others to use to call her. Why call her a "chalice of MC" as if she were just an extension of yourself ? You quickly rejoined them and demanded an apology from Ethan, and of course he refused and even got upset. As a result, you told him that you would not speak to him again until he apologised to Eloise.

He understood that you were serious when you still haven't spoken to him after a week. He feels really hurt and offended, you've only known Eloise for a short time, why put her before him? He has been your friend for much longer. The worst thing is that even Beliath agrees with you. Part of him knows he should give in and apologise, but the other part feels that the longer he waits, the later it is and that you will be too angry to accept his apology anyway.

Finally, you changed tactics after another week. You took him between the eyes to explain once again what was wrong with the way he talked about Eloise. The discussion was not easy, but after a long hour he finally agreed to apologise to Eloise. You immediately started talking to him again after he apologised.

It was not easy for him to get along with Eloise. But little by little it works. Although the improvement in their relationship is probably helped by the murders that take place in town. Ethan becomes quite protective of Eloise as she is related to you and he doesn't want anything to happen to her. He would be very upset if you were to get hurt because he wasn't careful enough to make sure that nothing happened to her.

#Moonlight lovers #Moonlight lovers Vladimir #Moonlight lovers Béliath #Moonlight lovers Ivan #Moonlight lovers Aaron #Moonlight lovers Raphaël #Moonlight lovers Ethan

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janeykath318 · 11 months

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Steve’s Christmas Miracle Chapter 5

Steve came to his senses, expecting to feel exhausted from the sleepless night, but he didn’t.

“That was an incredible dream!” he thought, stretching out the kinks in his neck.

Then he noticed the artificial tree Bucky had brought him and which he’d stuffed in a closet, having no intention of using, standing in the corner. Someone had set it up and plugged it in and it was glowing with beautiful colored lights.

It made his bare cabin look friendlier somehow and he smiled at the thought of his mysterious visitors setting it up for him.

As he reached for his phone, he noticed a stack of business cards piled neatly on the coffee table, having somehow escaped the junk drawer he’d shoved them in. They were all for the therapist Bucky recommended and had been trying to get Steve to call for months. Why had he been such a fool? He wondered. Toughing it out was not doing him any good. Flipping over one of the cards, he noticed writing on the back.

Take a freaking hint, Steve! was written in Natasha’s exasperated handwriting.

What she said. Was written below in what he guessed was Darcy’s writing. He carefully tucked the two cards in his pocket. He would make it his top priority after Christmas. In the meantime, he had plans to make and friends to call. Scarfing down a quick breakfast, he dialed up Bucky.

“Hey, punk. Good to hear from you. You okay?”

Bucky asked, sounding very relieved.

“Yeah, I’m okay, Buck. Hey, I’m really sorry about how I’ve been acting lately. Last night….well, let’s just say my eyes were opened. I have a lot of work to do, but I’m gonna quit hiding. It’s not doing any good. Is the invite still open?”

“Of course!” Bucky exclaimed. “Come on down. We’re gonna be here through New Years. I might have some good news when you get here.”

“Oh?” Steve grinned, knowing what he was referring to.

“I can’t say yet, cause people are listening, but I’ll text you later.”

“Good luck,” Steve said warmly. “I mean it, Buck. If this is what I think it is, nobody deserves this more than you two.”

“Aw, thanks, Steve. When do you think you’ll make it in?”

“Looks like tomorrow morning is the earliest I could get here,” Steve told him. “Sorry I was such a jerk about this.”

“Better late than never,” Bucky told him. “And I am in no position to judge you for that. It’s been hell. Should I tell Sam we’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Absolutely! And Buck?”

“Yeah, Punk?

“Merry Christmas.”

Steve listened to Nat King Cole crooning Christmas songs as he went about tidying up and cheering up his cabin. He didn’t have much in the way of decorations, but it was a start.

He drove into the city and spent the rest of the morning visiting the pediatric ward, and meeting a lot of sweet kids, including, much to Steve’s joy, Blake. Steve would never forget the happiness in Blake’s pale face as he was introduced or the way Blake’s dad thanked him profusely afterwards.

“This means the world to him. This was his one big wish and we weren’t sure if we could make it happen,” Jeff told Steve, eyes misty as the visit came to a close. “He’s got quite a fight on his ghands, but the new treatment seems to be working. Thank you.”

“No problem. I’ll be happy to come back again for another pep talk. He’s quite the trooper,” Steve said, smiling at Blake encouragingly.

“That would be amazing, but surely you’ve got too much on your plate already,” Jeff said.

“Actually, I’m retired. So I’ve got lots of free time now,” Steve informed him. “I went off the grid for a while, but it’s time for a new chapter.”

He left the hospital whistling and ran a few more errands of goodwill before getting a quick lunch and heading back to his cabin.

When he pulled in the drive, he was startled to see a familiar figure leaning on the porch railing.

“Darcy?” he called, parking the bike and hurrying to meet her. “How in the world?”

“Merry Christmas, Steve,” she told him, mischief twinkling in her blue eyes. It was then that he noticed the giant red bow stuck to the top of her head.

#shieldshock #steve rogers #darcy lewis

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baura-bear · 1 year

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Ahhhh you deserve all the praise!!! Gives cake

Okay so I'm very bad at endings and am perpetually always starting new projects do you have suggestions for how to end fics send help :p

Thank you!!

Advice down here:

Honestly, I struggle with endings too and I go back/edit/change my work a lot. One thing I’ve found useful is just having a friend read it and having them give feedback (if you’re comfortable with that of course). I took a creative writing class and feedback is absolutely terrifying but it’s SUUUPPER helpful. Then you can literally ask “hey do you have any good suggestions of how to end this?” As well as other questions about grammar, general flow of the story, and other small editing fixes. The best thing I learned from my creative writing teacher is that after you finish a story, reread it and change at least one thing. You might think it’s the best thing ever but even just adding an adjective or an extra sentence to describe the setting can make it better, sometimes even taking something out can improve it. (Ok I went off an a tangent sorry, back to the question)

I struggle with the ending when I feel like a part of the story is missing (see above advice). What I do is I sit down with what my initial plan for the story was, do I have all the plot points and will it make sense if I wrap it up where it is? If the answer to those are “no” then either go back and add more somewhere else, or keep writing! If you have everything you want, then it’s time to end. Sometimes an easy way to end (which honestly I’m trying to branch out from) can be a quote from one of the characters something as simple as:

“They settled into a comfortable silence which was only broken by two words before they drifted off to sleep 'good night.'"

This next ending is from a story I wrote ages ago:

"'Oh, Don’t cry.' He gently wiped the tears from Darcy’s cheeks. 'Look, I’m right here. You’re not losing me anytime soon, I promise.'"

I think using a quote is the easiest because it doesn't have to be anything crazy, it just needs to feel final and wrap it up for the reader.

If ending with a quote doesn't float your boat (that rhymed!) ending with a characters thought or small action is something you could do. here's some examples of how I did that:

"The shame tingling in the back of David’s mind started to melt away, and he found the confidence to lean forward and press a tender kiss to Jack’s lips."

Again, it's really simple, stuff could have happened after that kiss but I had decided that going farther wouldn't do anything for the plot and that the story was nicely wrapping itself up right there!

"The only thing on his mind was his friends. How far Jack would go to help him, even if I just meant spending a night on the fire escape, or drawing him a portrait perhaps."

That one is a bit cheesy but I wanted an example of how you could end it with a thought.

I hope this helped and I hope the examples helped. Endings are hard for me as well, and sometimes it takes a long time just to formulate one sentence or one paragraph that feels worthy enough to close off a story. I usually try a few endings, read them each with what I have and see what feels natural. Good luck with your writing!!!

#way longer than i intended but hopefully that just means I have more helpful info #thanks for trusting me to give writing advice that means a lot!!#asks

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missed-connections-of-fear · 2 years

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I really hate the back-and-forth shit I've ended up with

Everything fucking itches so damn bad jesus christ

Even the horns and my gums itch

I'm jealous of the bastards who don't have to deal with this :///

Except the Dark avatars, fuck that shit

Tbh I'm kind of using this as a place to 'gossip' so I feel less insane, anyone else getting that vibe?

Also fair warning, I might have like one Dark avatar running around near/in my area? Things are kinda wobbly around here, so be careful around dark caves unless it's like, your only option of escape

If you can't tell, I'm really tired/lh

As always, good luck, don't die, and if you see the full moon, run fast in the opposite direction.

-Shatter

Stay safe Shatter! Darcy and I have encountered a Flesh and Vast Avatar so far.

- Rose

#tma #the magnus archives #unreality #unreality tw #missed connections of fear #rose missed connection #missed connection fearpocalypse 2

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lunarspearedarchive · 3 years

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“Oh… I- you’re… here?” Darcie stayed frozen on the doorstep of the mansion, staring in shock at her sister. She shouldn’t have come, she’d thought she could start off small with Uncle Scrooge but now Della was here and alive and she had to go. Immediately. “You’re probably busy, I’m just gonna…” / @tunnagan

▬▬▬ ☾☆ When Della opened the door, she did not expect to see Darcie standing there. It’d been years since she saw her sister. Honestly, when she came home, it had come as a shock to her that the boys didn’t know who Darcie was. But Della decided not to worry about all of that right now. Right now, she had her sister in front of her && all she wanted was to hug her.

❛ Darcie! No, no of course I’m not busy! Especially not for you, how are you? I missed you so much! ❜

There was no way she was letting Darcie leave right now. She had definitely caught the look on her face && the usual signs. But she wasn’t going to bring attention to it.

#tunnagan #verse tba #☽ | unafraid of the unknown ★ (ANSWERED INBOX.)#SISTER SISTER SISTER SISTER #!!!!!!#u've been dragged into a della hug #good luck escaping darcie #( tunnagan: darcie. )

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linmeiwei · 3 years

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I read Pride and Prejudice again… and now I get why Kitty

So two things always bothered me about Pride and Prejudice:

1. Jane Austen seemed weirdly cruel to Lydia and

2. Why Kitty? Like, in a novel so tightly, so expertly plotted and cast, what was the point of this seemingly superfluous character?

For ages my answer to those two questions was:

1. Well, progressive, proto-feminist though Austen was, she was not immune to the standards of her time, sadly

2. She needed someone for Lydia to interact with I guess?

I didn’t love those answers but it’s all I had. After re-reading P&P again though…epiphany! I get it! And these two outlying problems are actually connected!

Okay, so hear me out (and possibly laugh at me for not realising this sooner).

Lydia is a flibberty-gibbet. Yes, she’s badly brought up by a silly mother and an indifferent, indolent father, but she’s also naturally not particularly thoughtful, not contemplative or serious, she’s outgoing, flirty, superficial and flighty. She’s good-humoured, she likes to have fun, she’s boy-crazy. She’s a teenager.

Upon first reading, her story seems a typical cautionary tale of its time. It seems to say: listen up teenage flibberty-gibbets! If you go about Lydia Benneting, you’ll end up ruined or married to George Wickham! It seems like Austen has no sympathy for Lydia, who is written as irredeemably stupid and deserving of her punishment… except Kitty.

See, Kitty is just as bad as Lydia. She is like a poor copy of her younger sister. She’s like Lydia in every way except less successful at Lydia Benneting. She also runs after officers, flirts, laughs and seems to entertain no serious thoughts at all. But she does not end up punished. Nothing bad happens to her at all. In fact, in the end she’s taken under Elizabeth’s wing, and there matures, improves and grows out of flibberty-gibbetdom.

And that’s the point. That’s the real moral to Lydia’s story. That’s what should have been Lydia’s arc if Lydia had had better luck!

You might think: no, Lydia needed better guardians. But to rebut this I give you Georgiana.

Here we are presented with a girl whose character we have no reason to fault, and whose guardians are attentive, loving and careful. She still falls for the same trick Lydia does. What does that tell us? Of course it tells us that Jane Austen thinks the moral of Lydia’s story isn’t: don’t be a teenage flibberty-gibbet and don’t let your teenage daughter be one. It’s really: the only reason your teenage daughter or sister escaped being taken advantage of by a predator isn’t high morals on her part (or that she wasn’t wearing a mini skirt and make up) or that you’re such a super parent, but the fact that a skilled predator has simply not taken the trouble.

That’s what Kitty is for. Kitty is what Lydia would have been if she had not attracted a predator. Austen wasn’t cruel to Lydia. She was sorry for Lydia.

I guess ultimately we can see what she really thought of Lydia through Darcy: he thinks her annoying and vulgar, yes, but when he finds her with Wickham, he doesn’t want to rush her to the altar to be rid of her as a problem. His first desire is to return her to her family, so she can finish growing up. He understands that primarily she is not a misbehaving child who needs to be punished or controlled. Primarily, she’s a victim. He’s powerless to help in the end, and so Lydia’s tragedy is complete.

I should have trusted my old friend, Jane. She’s no slut-shamer. What she’s really doing with Lydia’s story is destroying the “but what was she wearing” argument. And Pride and Prejudice has proven itself to be, once again, far ahead of its time.

#jane austen #pride and prejudice #lydia bennet #kitty bennet

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

Hue and Cry II

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; abuse of power, threats, chase.

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

Synopsis: You find a place to hide for the time being.

Note: Got this done quickly and was surprised with myself. Gearing up to go back to work tomorrow. I’ll try to catch up on responses after work and check in with y’all.

Thanks to everyone and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

You didn’t stop running until the dawn. You didn’t head for the village as you knew that would be the first place the lord and his party would look. You kept to the forest despite the howls and the hoots of unseen creatures. You stopped to bury your cap and apron under an overturned trunk. If it was known that Barnes was searching out a servant, it would be better to be less obvious.

As the horizon turned to a soft amber, you found an overhang and nestled into the small nook. You turned your back to the bitter morning air and tried to sleep. If you kept going, you would only pass out in the open. Your slumber was shallow and fitful. You were stiff as you woke up just after noon and climbed out of the cranny.

You feasted on nuts and berries gathered along your clueless path, eating as the twigs and branches pulled at your skirts. You weren’t sure where you were or where you were going. You could be out of the county or you could be five minutes from the castle. For your luck, you could have just gone in circles.

The second night you found a cave and slept there instead of pressing on through the dark. You were itchy from a brush with poison ivy and your feet throbbed from the endless trek. You got a few hours under your eyelids before you emerged and carried on.

What were you doing? Where were you going? If you did manage to evade the wrathful lord, what then? Knock on the doors of another castle and barter an apron with your fingernails dirty and your face wind burned?

The third night saw your stomach squeezing painfully as you failed to catch a rabbit and drank from a river eagerly. You slept between two broken logs and woke to the sound of hooves. You didn’t move as you listened to the voices. None were familiar and the only prey they spoke of was some doe they sighted moments ago.

“Nolan spooked the creature just behind the hill, my lord, if we hook around the lea, we might catch it by the stream,” a man said.

“I’d rather the stag. He must be close,” a deeper timbre replied, “you and Nolan take your course and I’ll search these grounds for the mate. Whistle if you sight our game.”

“Yes, my lord,” the other responded and the horses cantered away.

You stayed as you were as you heard the remaining man dismount and tramp over the carpet of leaves. You rolled onto your stomach and wriggled away from the noise and kicked yourself out from between the logs. You kept on your knees as you crawled around the other side and headed for the nearest tree.

His footsteps softened and you kept on, hoping your dirty dress helped you blend into the wild. You pushed yourself behind a trunk and pressed your back to the bark. If you sprinted out, he might just think you another frightened creature. If he sought a stag, he would be uninterested.

You nodded and readied for your flight. You took a breath and yelped as suddenly a figure appeared before you.

“I thought I heard a rustle,” the man said as he looked down at you. He was a lord, you could tell by the pin at the nape of his cape, “you look to be lost, my lady.”

“My lord,” you stood and bowed your head, “I only wandered too far. I can find my way back.”

“Way back where?” his hands went to his hips, “you look as if you have been wandering for a time.”

“I only tumbled and mussed myself,” you lied, “my lord, my apologies, I did not realise this forest was noble land.”

“It is easy to break the threshold of the common lands and the noble sprawl. It would be quicker on horseback to reunite you with your home, would it not?”

“I am grateful for such generosity but I would be remiss to accept, I might go on my way and--”

“Where do you hail from, lady?” he squinted.

“The village over yonder,” you pointed away from him, “it was a game and I did go too far.”

“And the village you speak of? What is it’s name?” he asked.

“Ildersin,” you uttered, one of the three nearest villages to the castle you knew.

“Ildersin? That is far and beyond my holdings,” he tilted your head, “one cannot wander there in less than a day so I warn you now to be honest or I would have your tongue out with hot pincers.”

You gulped and looked away from him. He stepped closer and caught your wrist.

“I could chase you down easy on my horse’s back, trample you into the mud, so answer me now or I will take you to the stocks,” he snarled.

“My father,” you said, “my father, he does beat me and I waited until he was abed to leave but I lost the bundle I did prepare for the escape. You see, my spare clothing and my food… I only did want to be upon my own and toil for one who does not lash me.”

He breathed through his nostrils as his thumb brushed the stitching along your cuff. He dropped your arm and his jaw ticked. His blond lashes flicked and he considered you and the dirt as one.

“You seek work?” he asked, “and asylum from your violent father?”

“Yes, my lord, er,” you blinked innocently, “I know not where I’ve found myself but I would serve you loyal if you would keep me from the stocks.”

“You can hold a broom? Empty a pot?” he asked.

“I can,” you assured, “my lord.”

“You have good manners for a farm maid,” he mused, “I might find a place for you in my kitchens.”

“My lord? You might direct me to the nearest village so I might find labour there, instead, I would not presume to further tax--”

“My castle is big enough, another hand would be more help than a burden,” he stepped back and waved you around the tree, “I will accompany you back to my keep and return to fetch my men… you look to have been out here long enough.”

“Truly, my lord, I--” you saw his impatience in the vein along his forehead and bowed your head, “I am most grateful.”

“Let us be off or my men might be lost without me,” he said.

He lifted you onto his horse and climbed up behind you. You’d never been astride with a man against you, it was awkward and crowded. He snapped the reins and the horse fell into step. He steered it away from your hiding place.

“Might I ask where I am, my lord?” you ventured.

“This is Astrens,” his voice rumbled through you, “And I am its lord, Duke Steven Rogers.”

Your heart sank as you recognised his name and your mistake. He wasn’t easily known with his beard, newly grown since his last visit to the Lord Barnes’ hold. He was of the few who were granted company with the miserly lord of the castle but there was a chance yet he did not know you. You were after all, only a servant.

🏰

Lord Rogers handed you over to his steward. You were reassured as you were given a cap, apron, and a new dress. You washed out of a basin and reported for your new duties.

It might just be far enough away that you wouldn’t have to worry about Barnes. He never went far from his estate and Astrens was out of the way of the capital. Even if it didn’t work, it gave you time to plot a real departure.

You were sent to the laundries to sweat over boiling cauldrons as you stirred the linens with a large stick. The steams seeped through your clothing and left you out of breath as you wrung out the sheets. You hung them outside along the line and helped beat out the old woven rugs.

After nights in the forest, your first day felt far from a return to normalcy. You were in a new place, you had new duties, and you didn’t know anyone in the castle. You’d worked in Lord Barnes’ manor since his father was still alive and you were only a kid. It was only a few years before Barnes took over but you remember it being much easy to ingratiate yourself to the staff.

You were shuffled onto a feather mattress in the servants’ quarters with three others. The snoring, snorting, and coughing kept you awake and you missed the chirp of crickets and scratching of critters. You woke more tired than any night spent among the trees and went back to the laundries.

Your days took on this pattern, sleep, eat, work, and do it all over again. You were forgotten among the other servants and it really seemed like you might just be able to hide among them forever.

Nearly a week into your time as Astrens and the castle blustered to a storm. All the drapes were to be taken down, beat, and washed, and all beds were to be stripped and redressed. Servants littered the corridors scrubbing, sweeping, and running from chamber to chamber. When you asked what the occasion was, the response was vague. Lord Rogers is hosting a guest.

You weren’t used to the rush. Visitors were rare at the other castle and rarely were they accommodated so wholly. If they had a place to rest their head and fill their stomach, Barnes felt they could not gripe. Even his greetings were not required on such an occasion.

You helped with the scourging and scouring of the linens and the drapes. You worked so hard you didn’t even have the energy to gulp down the lumpy stew allotted to the servants. You fell into the heap of your bedmates into dreams laced with your own snores. You dreamt of the forest and the sound of hooves.

Another early morning and the gears began to grind once more. Darcy sent you away from the laundries to help refresh the rushes in the entrance hall with several others. You scattered herbs over the grand carpet that displayed scenes of hunting through the seasons.

You wondered if perhaps Rogers was to be betrothed at last, the news of his first wife’s passing had sent many into gossip even before she was buried. Or maybe the king would make progress to the ancient grounds of the historic castle. You let your mind wander as your body was led by habit.

You heard the rolling of the carriage and the clip clop of horses. You followed several other servants as the tall doors were opened and you peered out into the yard at the party. You backed away as Lord Rogers emerged from the archway that led to the spiraling stairs and crossed the carpet. You could hardly hide your curiosity as you reluctantly followed the other servants. It would be unseemly to remain as Rogers welcomed his guests.

“James!” Rogers’ voice boomed and you stopped just outside the chamber as you looked down the stairs that led to the servants quarters, “it has been too long.”

“It has,” Lord Barnes’ responded and your eyes went wide as Deandra hissed for you to go. You couldn’t move as you listened and she abandoned you with a flutter of her fingers, “you know my father only ever called me James.”

“Ah, Buck, I’m kidding,” Rogers chuckled, “it is a pleasure to have you drag yourself from your hermitage.”

“You would make me regret it already,” the other lord chirped, “but the king did request my presence at the tournament and he did not allow for refusal. I’d prefer to travel with a friend, my only friend.”

“Oh, the sentiment, Lord Barnes,” Rogers preened dryly.

“I don’t know if I should be able to wait to tussle until the tourney,” Barnes jibed, “oh, this old place, has it been so long?”

You shoved yourself away from the door and clamoured down the stairs. You nearly tumbled down the last few and caught yourself on the wall. You sidled past Agnes and towards the laundries. Harriet called after you as you passed and rushed out the doors past the muddy puddles of dirty water and hanging sheets.

The grass was slick beneath your shoes as you raced for the stables. You only needed to hide there for a time and sneak out before they closed the gates. You didn’t make it past the first stall before you heard the steel whine. You turned as Lester greeted you with the tip of his sword.

“The master has been searching for you,” the toothy guard smirked, “oh and what a reward I shall have for bringing him a prize of his own.”

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #hue and cry #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #dark fic #dark!fic #fic #series #miniseries #medieval au #au #medieval!au #mcu #marvel #winter soldier #captain america

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peeterparkr · 3 years

Text

perennial;tom holland|eighteen.

chapter eighteen: yellow pansy ↳ flower meanings: thinking of you.

chapter summary: you left a journal in his top drawer. pairing: tom holland x y/n warnings: haha you’re going to HATE ME word count: 11.5K

previous chapter next chapter perennial masterlist.

perfidy ( series masterlist)

it took me ages write this, my writersblock was awful BUT IT’S HERE ! We are missing one more chapter but here it is! I hope you don’t hate me as much as I think you will, I split the ending in two chapters because it was LONG, so expect the final chapter in these days

Please help me out reblogging tags havent been working for me and I know this will flop but I’m really happy I got back into writing

You kept a journal. With flowers printed on them. Each and every single one was given by him. You had recently remembered it, wondering where in your room it could be. Hidden behind some other lost forgotten memories or some other unforgettable mysteries. You wondered if the flowers had kept their color. Most of them hadn’t.

“Well, here goes to the happily ever after,” you said as you smiled, even when the notebook was still roaming your mind.

Tim offered a gentle smile, watching carefully, as the white dress fell down.

When it comes to love stories, happy endings are what we wish for. Life, unfortunately, isn’t like that. But often we are bombarded with stories that are just too good to be true, enough for us to believe this. With them down the sunset on a white horse. With prince charming being charming enough.

With Mister Darcy as the sun is rising telling Elizabeth “You have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love, I love, I love you.”

With Donna and Sam getting married, and a bunch of friends singing Abba songs.

With Noah and Ally peacefully drifting off, hand in hand.

With Baby and Johnny Castle dancing together.

Characters that are but a reflection of our deepest dreams. Ones that are kept secret and shut for the world. With stories that make us believe we are happy.

It’s fine to shield in. But it’s no good to dwell on them.

We often don’t get what we wish for when we shield in a dream.

You wondered, what about Valerie and William?

Or… Tom and Y/n?

Your own story was supposed to be kept a secret, yet it ended up being a script and then a movie that would be seen by thousands. Your story transformed into a story people could shield on. A story that had been merely sentiments, then words and a very bad misunderstanding and… then a film.

Seeing yourself on someone else might have been what helped you understand it. Transforming your story into characters and trying to portray a love story that was born out of hatred… had probably been the first mistake.

If we can say it was ever a mistake. How big of a mistake can it be when it brings you so much joy?

Your luck hadn’t been enough for your own faith. But you always wondered, what happens after the happily ever after? Is it truly the outcome? When two souls find each other? Isn’t it only the beginning?

Valerie and William hadn’t had it.

The story ended with Valerie and Robbie getting together, it fit. That’s how the story had been driven. Tom and you had discussed it over and over, the story was written for Valerie to end up with Robbie.

“This is a story, y/n, it’s not us.” He had assured you. “We need to disconnect from it.”

And it wasn’t. It wasn’t you. But how much had those characters stolen from you?

How disappointing, but you made the decision along with them.

It had been painful to relive some things, and the changes to the script had been made to soothe the pain.

But they had a happily ever after. Separate ways.

Who would’ve thought you’d be so right?

Films and stories often end when marriage comes, or when the couple finally gets together, the happily ever after. You barely believed it was the ending.

Because the real journey began with it. Doesn’t it? Isn't the true adventure when they find each other?

When something goes wrong, though, it means the journey isn’t over. The happily ever after is the ending isn’t it? Isn’t the story over until after they’re happily ever after?

Love, though it might be one of the most precious things, often comes with a heartbreak. A tragedy. It didn't hurt this time, though.

But love, when it’s real, doesn’t seem like a loss even if it ends. Because, isn’t it the ending when they finally are together? If we follow that rule, that the ending is when they’re together then it wasn’t the ending.

Or was it?

You couldn’t help but wonder, however…What if you lived a lie? Just a fairy tale that wasn’t supposed to have a happily ever after.

Though the script was far from reality, you felt like your own story was twisted. Why weren’t you in your ‘happily ever after’?

Maybe the side story was yours. Because you were not the princess about to walk into the sunset.

“I really love the dress,” Tim commented.

You did too, but it had you wondering about happily ever after?

What happens to them after the credit rolls? What happens to the characters when the last page ends? Are those characters strong enough to keep together? Are their stories just dried out? Like flowers. Easily forgotten in a journal hidden in your room.

A bouquet that once served as a beautiful symbol now was scattered on top of the shelf, as a few petals fell down.

Flowers dry out.

“Yes, magnificent,” you answered.

The dress made you remember the day you thought it would last forever. That Tom and you would have that ever after. That it wouldn’t dry out.

Tom had only looked up at you, sitting finally on a director chair and he had smiled. Gently. Caring.

And that thought came to your mind. “I hope this lasts forever.”

And for a moment you thought it could. Maybe it was the endless smiles or the constant yellow flowers adorning your room that would end up on your journal.

But nothing ever does last forever. Not the good things. Not pancakes, or ice cream, or street hot dogs. Moments don’t last forever, that’s why you have to grasp to them.

And there was a point at which you knew, you knew it wouldn’t last forever. Because the film continues.

However, you liked to think that love was like a flower. One that grows. Not one that is cut to be given. A perennial one. One that blooms, and continues to bloom when it’s taken care of. But perennial flowers don’t bloom all the time.

A flower can’t bloom for eternity. And a cut flower will not preserve.

In stories and films, we know detail by detail. From the very first word, to the last breath. But when it comes to your own, you often forget what is important. We barely stop to see, and suddenly, life escapes from your hands and you’re stuck in a moment and you can’t get out.

Before you know it, all you’re left with is a script and a movie you can’t bear to watch because it brings too many memories. But good ones, that is. Mostly good.

Before you know it, you have a box with his stuff, and you’re texting to see when you have to drop them off. And before you know it, he is standing there, and you’re hoping he will beg for one last time because you will give it, but he never does, and stays quiet. Too quiet.

Not every love is perennial. Not every love is meant to bloom again.

Perennial flowers, when they bloom, are the most wonderful. But when they’re away, the skies are gray.

But somehow, we go through it. At least you tried to.

The ‘what if’ comes as something complicated. No pillow talks would’ve helped your case, it seemed like any smiles were now hidden under the bed.

It’s needless to say and regard the multiple emotions that had gone by in the relationship, that week it started or that month it finished. That year, if we are honest. That whole year of your relationship. And you had to look back at it. For it all started in a breakup, that had opened the door to be with the love of your life. It all started with a revenge.

It was weird to see it. How a year before you dated Tom, you would have gone with Tim. How you had expected it, how you thought Tim was the endgame. How that year Harry had asked if you would marry Tim and you’d answered that maybe you would.

How at some point you had considered it again. How you even considered Harry. But Tim.

Had Tim waited for a little bit longer, maybe things would’ve turned out quite different. You were thankful he hadn’t. Tim and you were a lesson to each other. Tim had shown you you can be loved and you had shown Tim he can love. Tim and you were fine now, he had found a girl. Lily. Her name was Lily. Purity. Rebirth.

Because, although it had seemed that Tim had died a little with your last conversation before officially letting him go, he had seen himself shine again. How surprising, her name was Lily. Such a coincidence.

Lily, a girl that could easily be passed by. Yet Tim had stopped to see her.

Tim and you would never share what you both said in that conversation. The last flower he had given you was a daisy. A secret between two friends.

Cherry and you went back to what you were before, strangers to each other. But she’d found a girl, by luck. Heather. She was happy now. Happiest.

A year had gone by. Many things had changed. Mostly you, and though you would look back to your past self and warn her that another heartbreak by Tom would be coming, you wouldn’t change it.

A breakup had opened many doors.

Maybe this one would too.

It was bound to come. How on earth were you supposed to grow flowers on a battlefield? But you’d built it together.

And you had. And everything was good, with sunsets and polaroids, and flowers. And fights that would cycle and cyle. But end up cuddling watching reruns of an old 80’s tv show that you barely watched because you were too busy staring into his eyes.

With old fights that would resurface and other secrets that kept chasing you both. But it was good, when you were trying to get the garden back into place, to try and forget the battlefield. Loving him had come so easily, though. Waking up by his side was taken for granted.

You had thought loving him would be a buzzing street, with crowds bustling as the rain is about to begin. You thought loving him would be a Friday night waiting for someone to show up but never did.

You were wrong.

Loving him was walking through a flower field, and taking a Polaroid of the most beautiful sunset. Loving him meant holding his hand and kissing over and over again.

But loving him meant that the sun eventually would set.

And maybe the heartbreak that had come with this one hadn’t been an actual heartbreak and maybe that’s why it hurt. Because it didn’t.

Maybe you’d forged a heartbreak or a relationship. Maybe that had been it, conning yourselves into believing you were fine when you were far from it.

Looking back maybe it was because of Rome, New York, and eventually LA. Cities that you once said you wouldn’t dare to go back to. But now you are willing to visit. Happily, it’s better to walk in a city full of memories rather than one pointless illusion of the memories you could’ve had.

He had gone to New York, and still took his Polaroid everywhere. A habit you loved about him, it seemed he became an expert on holding onto memories.

The breakup had come after James’ wedding. Lovely wedding, by the way. Fairytale full of wonder. A year ago, shortly after the film had premiered, a year after it finished filming.

It was supposed to come. Because when your own brother was finding his way, you had lost yours.

But what happened? When did life slip in? When did it start ending?

Before you knew it, you had packed your stuff without you being aware of it. You had packed everything up, except your own heart. You left your heart right there, right next to that stupid journal, in his upper drawer, right next to his bed. Had he opened that drawer ever since or had he forgotten about it?

There was your journal, not in your room. In his. And he hadn’t given it back.That’s why you felt lost. Your heart was imprinted there and he hadn’t given it back.

But you had packed everything else, with him not even trying to stop you. Just watching you circle around.

Was it fear? Maybe it had been fear, from both. You supposed that’s how life was. Loving was not a duty.

You only had one request for him, one last request: “Remember me, I was the one to love you, and I was the one to call in the middle of the night when you couldn’t sleep. Just remember me when we’re no longer here.”

Because it hadn’t been your fault, your life just slipped in. Distance. No time for calls. Your job getting too much recognition, his job getting even more. Fights that were only to push each other away so it wouldn’t hurt when you both were away. Maybe being enemies had come useful when it was supposed to end.

Fight, and more fights in the end. Yet you were gripping each other. And life had just slipped in. Like it always does.

And it wasn’t him. And it wasn’t you.

“Tell me you actually want it to end,” he had asked when you had the final box.

You didn’t. But there wasn’t much you could do, expect walk out the doors.

Or was there? But even if it was a breakup, you both agreed to remain friends, and then it transformed into little excuses to see each other.

Because it didn’t end up badly. It had been life slipping in. With barely having any time for something that needed too much time to build on.

Filming initially had helped you, how beautiful it was creating it, what a beautiful outcome it had been out of your heartbreak. With music, and fights and everything that was splendid.

Maybe the film wasn’t a huge success, but it had been enough for you both to try and mend it after.

But when filming had ended and you had to go back, that’s when the problems started. His job, your new one. Him there, you here. When you were together, it was amazing, worth it. But then you barely could. And you could barely grip each other.

Then you were too different. Then you were just the same, so stubborn and stupid.

Then it was old arguments, and new ones.

When was it gone? Had he stopped loving you?

He had asked you, near the end. “Do you still love me? Are we still enough?”

“I do love you.” But you hadn’t answered the second question. And what was it? Why wasn’t it? “Why wouldn’t we?” you had questioned.

“Dunno, it’s delicate.”

It was.

Maybe it had been James’ words for Clark. About how love shouldn’t be forced, how love should be simple and love shouldn’t be hurt. About how they built it together. How it wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t complicated.

And then Clark had said it, too. How he loved being with someone that he enjoyed silence with. How love was more than passion. How love was more than a kiss. Seeing how simple it had been for them, was a bit disappointing for you both. Your relationship was anything but simple.

And it wasn't now because you didn’t trust each other, or because you wanted to fight. No, it simply was life telling you, you shouldn’t be together. And maybe it was also the fact that you both thought you worked because you had never experienced silence together. Always a wreck. Always a mess. Always so passionate. But… was it only that? Maybe it was the passion of the moment.

You knew Tom still played the conversation with Tim over and over in his head. How by the end he said he felt guilty by it all.

You too, you were both driven by guilt and guilt eventually snaps you.

So it ended.

“Is it too soon to end this?” You had asked him.

Tom had shrugged. “Would you rather it be late?”

But that didn’t mean you… had to stop seeing each other. Or did it? So you based your new relationship on excuses. And the excuses had grown. ‘I need to give you this hoodie’, ‘I forgot my charger at your place’ ‘I need someone to drive me to do errands’, ‘I need help running lines’, ‘I need a date for this party.’

And then they didn’t even make sense. ‘I can’t open a jar’ ‘I can’t watch this movie alone’ ‘I need to rant about the ending of this series’ ‘I sneezed and no one blessed me’. Stupid things. And then it was the truth ‘I need to listen to your voice’. ‘I miss you’. ‘I want to see you’.

But it was only seeing each other, with no… relationship. No kissing, no anything. Only excuses. A… friendship.

True friendship, for the first time ever. And you could talk for hours with him until the sun came out, and you could laugh with him.

Maybe it hurt that it wasn’t more, but maybe it was never meant to be like that. But you were in a good place. In the best place you had been. The strongest you had both been, too. How civil you were with clothes on. And how many times had you stopped your will to undress him.

Your lips searched for his but they never got what they wanted, your hands hurt from keeping them to yourself, and your heart would only ache a bit.

From both sides.

Seemed that both of you knew what you had to build up on. And maybe you both knew the risk that would come if you were willing to give it a try without having something to settle on.

Maybe that’s why it didn’t hurt. Because it would bloom again, right? Maybe you were preparing the dirt to plant it in. Not loose flowers now. Have seeds.

Or that’s the idea you built yourself into. Because honestly. Had you ever been more than enemies with benefits?

But now, you were friends. Good friends. Maybe you were in love with him, and grown fonder of him now. Really, really in love. But friends. Friends who stared a little bit too much into each other’s eyes, or friends who would easily recognize each other’s laughter. Friends who would have their feet up the headboard and talk about life. Friends who instinctively would give the other a bite of their food or offer a sip of their drink.

Friends who would take a deep breath each time the other walked into the room, and friends who avoided getting too close that it would be mistaken for something else. Secret moments. Standing on the other sides of the room, turning your head away each time your eyes met.

Maybe you didn’t get the happy ending you wished for, or not the one you had expected to.

But you were happy. And it had ended. Those things were unrelated.

But a lot had changed.

Ay first, you had to fight the urge to undress him. Now you had to fight the urge to stare too long into his smile.

Really, a lot had changed.

Tom had started dating someone else, you didn’t know how long that lasted. You had pretended not to care, although you did.

You went out on dates, too. Didn’t inform him, either. Not explicitly. Though he did know.

Because you were friends. That was the happy ending you deserved.

A lot had changed.

And you were currently helping a bride tie that bow in her dress as she stared at her reflection. Her hair hung to her shoulders and half of it was tied with perfect braids. She was finally having her happy ending.

“Are you ready for the veil?” Timmy asked, as he watched the reflection of the bride.

“Can you give me a bloody second, Timothée?” Emma snapped with her usual tone. “I’m fucking busy right now, the veil can wait, don’t be a dick.”

You only held your laughter eyeing Tim. Tim and you had stopped looking at each other like you felt guilty for a while now. Tom’s jealousy had not exactly been driven away, you guessed it never would go.

But surprisingly enough, they became...friends. Or they could stand each other now after James had talked to both of them.

James and the married life that seemed to suit him. His wedding had been very small, but charming nonetheless. You wondered if you would’ve had something like that, very personal.

Quite a different story from Emma and Harry now. Whose love had conquered. And they had had a rough patch but how difficult can it be when you find your soulmate?

Maybe Harry and Emma had Tom and you doubting too. Tom and you had seen several times that you were not meant to be. Your coincidences in life had not been so, rarely coincidences but the both of you fighting for something. Too stubborn to admit that life was getting in the way.

Tom and you had all the odds in your favor and the ones to fuck it up were you both.

While Harry and Emma always had everything against them and they managed to work it out.

Who’re the soulmates here?

“What a lovely thing the blushing bride is, eh?” Tim rolled his eyes.

Emma had been… quite the bride. Everything had to be perfect, which was not likely for Emma to be that way. But she did say it, since she was marrying the love of her life it had to be big enough. In a rustic hotel, full of books and vintage furniture. A very cottage-like wedding. Very Emma and Harry. Unique.

It was perfect.

It had to, honestly. After the crossroads… everything had changed for them.

How Emma and Harry got back together was no mystery, Harry had been brave enough to go for her. When two souls are meant to be even the rockiest path will be easy to travel by.

It was the opposite of what you and Tom used to have. Emma and Harry had all the friendship, relationship settled, they just missed… the passion.

And so when they found each other, and were like two horny teenagers running around, it became...so effortless. Because they had something built upon.

As if life was rewarding them for their patience. For the love they shared. For each and every smile.

Both wild flowers, Often disregarded, had found each other, and created the most beautiful bouquet.

You only chuckled at Tim’s remark. “Splendid bride.”

While you and Tom had never been friends. Only too driven by the other, and passion and… when it ended? What were you? Were you merely nightly romance?

Tim groaned. “Emma—“he raised the veil. “I’m not trying to—I just think you should be wearing this already.”

“Shut up,” Emma granted. “I will but right now I’m—“

“Staring at your reflection?” Tim challenged. Because Emma was actually just doing that. Staring at the perfect dress she was wearing. Shining brightly like a diamond against the sun, her skin perfectly sparkled.

Emma looked for your glance in the mirror,”y/n, love.”

“Yes?”

“As my maid of honor, what are you willing to do?”

You offered her a grin, “Anything.”

Emma stared into your eyes. “Kill Timothée.”

You chuckled, “Almost anything, you should’ve asked earlier. I don’t want to get blood in my dress.”

Tim was surprised by your words. “So you would’ve?”

“Possibly, I don’t want to encounter a bridezilla Emma.”

Timmy threw his hands in the air. “I just want to help.”

“Well, don’t,” Emma and you said at the same time.

“I’m going to check on the guys, I am one hundredth percent sure they’re still in their pj’s drinking beer,” You commented.

The hotel room for the boy’s was only a floor below. It was everything Harry and Emma had probably wished for. An outdoor wedding that was planned to the very perfection. Very fairytale like. Lights hanging from trees, flower petals covering the aisle, daisies as the centerpieces, and daisies in Emma’s hands. Emma’s dream had always been an outdoor wedding.

When speaking with Emma and Harry both had stated that they made the decision not to give up. Always leaving you to wonder.

There was a part of you that was blinded by desirous thoughts. Had it been a mistake? To conclude a relationship that you had fought so long for?

Lately it had been.

You made your way to the elevator and as it opened you found a familiar face. He seemed uneasy, though.

“Y/N!” His voice was only a confirmation to his precarious state.

Your cheeks furrowed as you smiled, “Clark, hi!”

“Y/N,” he greeted you with a hug, a very nervous hug. as you stepped into the elevator. “Fuck, you look stunning. Loving the flowers on the hair.”

The dress was absolutely stunning, you had to give in that Emma’s taste was remarkable. Sky blue had been her color choice, to match with the flowers. Daisies and hydrangeas. Innocence and beauty.

It was ironic, a bit. You’d helped her with the flowers, and initially she had like sunflowers. As if it had been sntached from you. Maybe it was destiny laughing in your face. Yet she’d gone for the delicate hydrangeas.

“Thanks, Emma’s idea,” you grinned. “Where are you—“

“Oh eh, with the other boys,” he said as you pressed the button. He was shaking.

“So, what’s got you all flustered?” You questioned.

You could see Clark sweating. “Hm?”

“What’s got you all flustered?” You questioned, again.

He didn’t give you an answer. “Clark?”

Clark bit his lip. It was never usual for Clark to be anxious or to hide thoughts for himself. The man was always certain of his thoughts and actions. There was probably a calamity waiting for you.

“I—I am only the messenger,” he said, “I was actually looking for—Tim but—“

There it was. “But?”

“I think you might be of more help,” Clark admitted.

“Clark?” Your brows furrowed as the elevator door opened. He only offered a nervous smile as he licked his lips.

You saw Tom at the end of the hallway, on a call, shirt buttoned half way, his other hand running through his hair, he looked troubled. You were hoping his eyes would meet yours. Ever since the wedding was approaching he had been inattentive. Maybe the wedding hurt as much. It had been so hard for him to switch from lovers to friends. Did he ever stop and wonder if you guys could’ve had one? Did Tom also hindered with painful thoughts of how everything had so carelessly ended?

Lately it was all you had in your mind, how you felt ready. Or maybe it was the pressure that the wedding was giving you. And just as you started getting closer, Tom had backed away without a warning.

James was just getting out of the room, mid hallway. Your brother seemed to be as stressed. The tie around his neck barely covering it, his hair was scrunched. James’ eyes crossed with yours and then went straight to his husband’s.

“You brought y/n?” James pinched the bridge of his nose. “Ah, fuck it,” he looked at his watch. “Yes, you might be more helpful,” James said as he gestured with his hand to come over.

There was clearly something going on. You eyed Tom, who still was not aware you were there.

“I—Sam, no, no, I’ll—I can’t stay here, fuck I have his phone here—“You heard him say before James had dragged you into the room.

You approached your brother. “What is going on?”

“We—couldn’t find Harry’s tie,” James explained.

A tie? This was all of it? This whole catastrophe was for a tie?

“Can't any of you give him yours?” You frowned. It was no surprise that they hadn’t come up with a solution to such a simple problem, you could not expect less from men.

James rolled his eyes. “So he went to search for it about an hour ago but he fucking left his phone here and—“

Then you understood what was going on. “Where’s Harry?” You closed your eyes.

James gulped. “That’s—the thing.”

“Where is Harry?” You questioned, again.

Clark cleared his throat. “We don’t—know.”

Oh, so you were fucked. “Whose stupid idea was—?”

“Well, Dad told me he left home about 40 minutes ago and he didn’t see him at home, Sam hasn’t found him—Their fucking twin telepathy thing is broken, I guess—“Tom had walked in staring at his phone, loudly explaining his previous conversation. “Oh—hi, y/n.”

“Hi.” It was rutinary, for both of you. To just—stop when the other walked into a room. You blushed. Only noticing until then how handsome he looked. Seemed you hadn’t realized how badly you wanted him. In the most innocent way, in the way that you only wanted to offer him your heart. In the way that you only wanted the sole confirmation that he still loved you. In the way you wanted to be the reason for his smile.

You wanted to ask him, if it was okay he was still on your mind. Was it wrong? Would he be chill with him visiting your dreams?

Because that had been the hardest part of it all. At some point you had both decided you needed to move on… Because both of you at the beginning were trying to get back together and after a long conversation that almost led to one kiss, you both decided it wasn’t appropriate. So pretending you didn’t love each other was the way you’d keep him, for whatever it was worth.

Tom had said it once, hadn’t he? How everytime you both stated your feelings… it hurt. So now that you weren’t stating them, you were supposed to not hurt. Why did it, then?

“You look—stunning,” he eyed you up and down, and licked his lips, “I—I’m sorry I didn’t-uh-call this morning-I was—“

“You look pretty, too,” you interrupted. Knowing that the missed call would be a subject for James’ interest. The short story was—you had probably had a few more drinks than you should’ve with him at the hotel bar with Clark and James and Tom had walked you to your room, only walking, not even a kiss on the cheek as much as you had wanted it, but he had promised to call in the morning after you had claimed he had been ignoring you. He hadn’t called.

And was aware of it, which meant he hadn’t forgotten. It meant he had avoided you, again.

It had seemed that from one morning to another Tom had decided that the word friends meant strangers.

Maybe he wouldn’t pay a visit to your dreams.

He reached for your hair, “I like the flowers—”

“Can you both leave your ‘in love but not together’ bullshit for later?” James snapped you both out of the trance. “The wedding is in two hours and the fucking groom is no where in sight.”

Both Tom and you turned to him, travelling back to reality. “Well it’s not my fault! Who—sent him? Why didn’t you guys offer to go for the stupid tie?” You snapped back at your brother.

Tom looked away.

Of course. You watched him. “Tom? How do you plead?”

“Guilty,” he admitted.

You took a deep breath. This was definitely not the scenario you wanted to find yourself in. Had… Harry escaped? It was… not likely to escape but then again, you’d learned not to expect anything.

It was reason enough to worry.

“I wouldn’t jump to conclusions,” Tom said.

James sighed. “He took my car and—“

“You gave him your car to escape—!” You snapped. “Your car always stops working!”

“No,to go for his tie, not to escape,” Tom snapped his fingers with a smile defending your brother. “We-”

“Thomas oh my god, I am not even- All of you, you all thought it was a good idea?” You were furious now. Whose stupid idea was it to-Of course it had been Tom’s. You were going to jump to conclusions. “To send the groom when any of you could have gone-?”

You didn’t want to jump to conclusions.

You really didn’t, however it was ineluctable. Not because Harry didn’t love Emma, but because Harry was… scared. You didn’t blame him. True love comes barely once in a thousand lifetimes and when we finally get to it, it might be too much for us to handle. However after your conversations with Harry this cataclystic outcome had not been foreseen.

“My dad is around the hotel trying to find him,” Tom quickly answered.

You took a deep breath. You perfectly knew Harry.

Harry and you were close as you had once been, in a way, Harry and you were well apprised of the other. Harry was reasonable enough not to leave his wedding.

“He offered to go,” James explained.

Harry wouldn’t have offered that unless he needed to go away. And you only needed one confirmation, there was no way Harry would’ve forgotten his tie. Harry would’ve never forgotten it, unless it had been self sabotaged.

You were conveyed to the drawers, opened each one carefully, fearing you’d find it, and your gut had been right. there it was. The tie in all of its splendor. “And you let him go?” You asked, taking the tie and swinging it to them. “To search for this tie?”

“Yes,” James closed his eyes. “Fuck. We should’ve known.”

Your eyes crossed with Tom’s and then you then realized it, Tom seemed calm. Tom wasn’t freaking out. Not externally. You weren’t sure if he really wasn’t or if it was the usual wall you both build around the other. Incomprehensible it seemed now. Always keeping it cool, So many things you’ve lived and you had let them go oh so easily?

But you were flawed. You had been. But not now, what was stopping you both? Wasn’t he still the one holding your broken heart in the palm of his hand? Had he not borrowed it?

You were still trying to hold his.

But your mind shouldn’t be worried about your relationship with Tom when the groom was nowhere to be found. When he had lied that he lost his tie and it was right in that drawer.

Yet, you somehow knew there was something… Something there.

“He was supposed to go home then?” You questioned Tom.

Tom was getting anxious by the second. “Yes, so we can go look for him.”

“The two of you?” James interrupted.

“Yes the two of us, we could split and look for him but...” Tom said. “Someone has to stay here.”

James was slightly annoyed, you could tell. But James was often annoyed at you and Tom. James had been the most disappointed about the resulting relationship. Honestly, everybody was disappointed. Had you been cowards for giving up?

So much drama and for what?

“Of course you’d think splitting up is a good idea,” James snapped with poison. James was annoyed because he always pointed it out to you, how much you’d fought to have him and how easily you’d walked out.

Walking out had not been easy. Walking out had to be the most painful decision you’ve ever made. And you remembered that night you had, the city was asleep, the night was quiet, and you were the only one standing on that street, under that streetlight. Alone. He hadn’t gone to you. You’d looked back to his window, expecting him to be there, and then the door had remained closed.

You cleared your throat. “I might know where Harry is,” you lied. You were at a loss of your mind at the moment. Maybe it was shock. Not maybe, it certainly was shock. The sole thought of Harry not appearing at his own wedding had not ever crossed your mind. You’d thought Emma would’ve. Would’ve been in character, but how stupid do you have to be to run from your wedding on your wedding day?

Tom directed a glance. “I think I might know where he is, too.”

Did he? Or was he only trying to prove a point?

Though the friendship was afloat, some habits could never wear out. Especially when it came to challenging the other. After the breakup it had become a sort of competition of who was dealing better with it.

Neither of you were coping well, but you wouldn’t admit it.

How disappointing, isn’t it? A whole story to end just in a few words. A whole journey to be plucked off your hands. So quickly, so easily.

How ironic it seemed that after such a long time, it was this breaking up bullshit.

James watched between the both of you. “Do you really?”

“Yes,” Tom and you answered and panicked at the other’s statement.

“Well, I’ll race you there,” you challenged.

Tom squinted, “I don’t have my car, dad gave me a ride.”

“Well, then, you should start running so I don’t beat you there,” you grinned and then walked off the room, decidingly. Only thing left was knowing where exactly Harry had run to.

“This isn’t a fucking game, y/n!” James reminded you. “We need to find Harry.”

“I know, Jamesy!”

Tom had rushed after you, “You have no idea where he is, do you?” He mumbled.

“Not a clue,” you admitted. “You?”

He laughed, “Not a fucking clue, either.”

You both got into the elevator. He dug his hands into his pockets.

“Do you think he escaped?” Tom questioned.

“It’s possible,” you admitted. You sighed, as you pressed the button to the upper floor.

“What are you doing?” Tom asked.

“I need my keys,” You said.

Tom’s eyes widened. “And are you telling Emma?” He was panicking.

“Of course!” You gave him the widest beam. “She’ll be delighted!”

“What?”

You jokingly slapped his head. “Of course not, idiot! How the fuck am I supposed to tell her? What would I even tell her? Hey! We can’t find Harry! He might have run off! No!”

“Right. Then what’s the alibi?” Tom asked. “Just showing up and leaving?”

You sighed, “You, you will be my alibi.”

Tom blinked but followed after you when the elevator door finally left you at your floor, you rushed to the room, but stopped in front of it, buttoning Tom up. He watched you with confusion.

“I thought I was your alibi,” he smirked.

You rolled your eyes, “Not that kind of alibi, dipshit.“

Helaughed, rolling his eyes and avoiding your gaze. “Yeah, it’s been a while since that could be the alibi.”

You decided to ignore the statement, “Now, when I walk in, if you hear Emma question me—just call me and try rushing me.”

“Alright, but I think we need a solid alibi, y/n,” Tom pushed.

You rolled your eyes, “I’ll take care of that,” you confirmed and opened the door where you were welcomed by Timmy, who was about to go out.

“Oh, hey,” Tim greeted and then eyed Tom. “Thomas.”

“Timothée,” Tom nodded his head.

Even when they both presumed to be friends, you knew that Tim and Tom would always have some sort of… disagreement.

“Uh, I was about to… go see Lily,” Tim explained, turning back to you. “Mind staying with Emma-? Her mother is on one last minute arrangements, it might rain so they’re trying to figure out what to do-So if you could—“

“Actually,” you cleared your throat. “An emergency came up, so I need you to stay here, maybe tell Lily to come here?”

Tim frowned. “What emergency?”

“We’re taking care of it,” Tom explained as you rushed in looking for your purse. “We’ll be quick,” he added. “Nothing to worry about.”

“Y/N, babe, you’re back!” Emma commented.

You squinted your eyes closed, “And I’m leaving—sorry, I need to uh—It will be quick I promise there’s an issue with—there’s an emergency—“

Emma was nervous, “y/n? Everything okay? Did something happen to the flowers?”

You couldn’t lie to her, but you could omit the truth. “No, everything okay with the flowers—I promise I’ll be here quickly, I’m just going to—“

“Y/N, darling?” You heard Tom outside. “We need to go, now.”

Emma heard and then she was no longer going to question you. Not right now, at least. “Ah,” Emma said, knowingly as she rolled her eyes. “I see, Tom— an emergency with Tom.”

“I promise it’s not like that,” you assured her. “But everything is okay and— I’ll be here in time.”

“I am freaking out, do you see the sky? It’s grey! Fucking grey! I need to stop the rain!” Emma yelled. “What if it’s a bloody sign? Fuck, I need to talk to Harry, I need him-”

You freaked out by then. “No, Emma, calm down, it’ll be okay, we will figure something out!”

“Y/N! Please!” Tom called in again.

Emma watched you, “I swear to god, y/n, if your emergency is fucking that man I will murder you.” “Trust me, it’s not.”

Emma glared, “Y/N, I’ll only say it one more time. If you’re leaving my wedding to have sex with that hunk, I will kill you.”

You shook your head. “I’m… Trying to figure out what to do with the rain, okay? Leave this ro me! I’ll see you in a bit, Emma!” You ran back out.

You saw Tom’s mother walking down the hallway, she offered you a concerned look.

Tom seemed calm enough for Tim, however, who was watching him with curiosity. You were thankful that they avoided conversing with each other, especially because Tom would probably screw up the alibi. One that you didn’t have. But probably Tim had bought it, even if he had yet to hear what the alibi was. However, you knew that Tom’s presence was a solid alibi for rather than anything else.

Tom had been an alibi for your nerves. You knew that Tim wouldn’t question why you were nervous because he knew you were always nervous when Tom was around. You certainly looked flustered and having Tom there would definitely explain why you were jittery.

Tim raised his brows at you, and you only took Tom’s hand in an attempt to drag him back to the elevator. Tim was explicitly confused.

“Ah, Nikki! I’m so glad you’re here, Emma is finishing up, would you mind helping her?” Your voice was coming out slightly coarse.

The woman gulped, “are Tom and you taking care of the...rain issue?” She questioned.

“Yes, ma’,” Tom quickly nodded, “we will… find the rain.”

Some things never change, Tom was still an idiot. And for being an actor how terrible was he at lying.

“Find?” Tim questioned.

“Nothing to worry about, Tim darling,” Nikki stepped into the room, trying to push Timothee back inside, “they are taking care of it and they should go look at it, right now, chop chop!”

“See you in a bit, Tim!” You said as you ran to the elevator as Nikki closed the door, you finally were able to let go of Tom’s hand.

He cleared his throat as he pressed the button, “So what was the alibi?” Tom second glanced at you. “Why would we take care of the rain?”

“Because it got lost,” you shrugged. “Why else would we find it.”

He closed his eyes as you both walked into the elevator. “I’m an idiot.”

“Biggest one.”

He chuckled, “I—uh, heard Emma’s comment. About her thinking we were going to-”

You blushed, “Yeah.”

Big distance between both of you. Never ever close enough to accidentally brush against each other or hands coincidentally touching.

How different it was from the elevator in New York.

Tom cleared his throat. “Good to know where she stands in that subject.”

You shrugged, “I would also get mad if my best friend ditched me at my wedding to have sex with an idiot.”

He smirked rolling his eyes. “I believe the term she used was hunk.”

You ignored the comment.

“Why didn’t Timothee question us?” Tom asked.

You shrugged, “Haven’t you noticed that no one questions us?”

Tom furrowed his brows. “How so?”

“Whenever we are together, they never ask anything, they just let us be,” you admitted. Because everyone was waiting for you both to get back together or everyone expected something more from you. You never gave it to them.

He tilted his head slightly, agreeing with you. “I guess they think they’re going to make things awkward.”

No. People let you be because they wanted you to solve it.

“As if they could be,” you chuckled. “I think that’s the best part of us right now, people just don’t… meddle.”

Tom smiled, “I guess.”

You cleared your throat, “Now, where the fuck do you reckon Harry is?” You asked as you reached the lobby, turning back to what actually mattered.

“Honestly, I have no idea, nothing can come to my mind, it’s just… Not likely from Harry to run away,” Tom said. “Like—Me? Definitely. I would’ve—“

“Yes, you’d definitely run,” you nodded as you jingled the keys. Tom asked for the car at the valet.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Tom questioned.

“You’d definitely escape from your own wedding,” you chuckled. “You’re so afraid of commitment. It’s the Gemini in you.”

He opened his mouth with pride, “excuse me? Me the one afraid of commitment? May I remind you of your past, my lady?”

You avoided his gaze. “You may not.”

“Said no to a proposal, poor Timothee,” Tom started with a smirk.

“Okay that’s—“You cleared your throat, chuckling slightly. “You shouldn’t—“

“Then—Then,you faked a relationship.”

You eyed him, “are we really going to touch that subject, again?”

“You were scared of commitment enough to fake one,” he joked.

You could joke about it now. Or he could. You’d never joke about it.

“Or I knew you wouldn’t commit so I had to fake I didn’t want it,” you smugly answered.

He faked annoyance. “Well, you ran to another country, yes, just after confessing your lovely feelings through a letter—“

“That’s…different.”

“Then you didn’t give me an answer—you didn’t know if you wanted to date me,” he recalled.

You scoffed, “Thomas, may I remind you why I didn’t want to date you?”

“Then you called it quits after seeing your brother getting married and you were scared we were heading there too,” Tom said.

You gulped, “Ah, yes that last one wasn’t me—“ you reminded him. “Not entirely.”

Tom licked his lips. “Maybe we are both afraid of commitment.”

“No,” you nudged him. “I wasn’t.”

“I wasn’t either.”

There was a sudden silence. You’d barely talked about it before. As if the relationship had suddenly disappeared.

You hadn’t talked about the breakup once in months.

“I would say we are at a crossroads but,” he shrugged. “I do not believe that commitment was the reason for—“

“Nope,” you gave in. “It was not.”

Because it wasn’t, maybe it was the fact you were both too committed to a relationship without form.

“However—you did—“Tom cleared his throat. “I mean—we were headed in some sort of direction.”

“Thomas, I don’t think now is the time to have the conversation we haven’t had.”

“So we should keep pushing it, then? Pretending we are both fine with this agreement? Lately we don’t seem fine with it.”

You knew he was right. Neither of you were entirely happy with this whole new friendship thing. “I—maybe we can talk about it when we find Harry!”

Tom pursed his lips, “so you do want to talk about it?”

You took a deep breath, “Thomas, we can push aside that conversation but we cannot push aside the fact your brother is nowhere to be found on his wedding day.”

“Fine.”

“Besides I think if we’ve pushed it long enough—“

He laughed. “We are—particularly calm about that subject.”

“I don’t think we are,” you admitted. “We just like to pretend when we are calm around each other.”

Tom clicked his tongue, “Maybe. But I’m—We haven’t talked about that in a while.”

“And it’s not the moment right now, it’s your brother’s wedding, and he is nowhere to be found,” you repeated.

Tom’s smile faded and was overstrung again. The car was there.

You let him drive, he usually drove your car. Another habit that hadn’t worn out.

Now things weren’t calm, as if the sudden rush had become the both of you. You finally got it, the anxiety that should’ve come from hearing it. The anger and despair that you were supposed to feel from Harry running away.

He looked down, “what’s that?” He pointed at the cup on the cup holder.

“Coffee, from yesterday,” you explained. “Didn’t finish it.”

“You think I could die from that?” He asked.

You looked at him. “I—don’t know but—You're not thinking of—“

“Drinking it?” Tom smirked. “Yeah, I’m just—-thirsty.”

“Please don’t.”

He took the cup, “I won’t die.”

“I guess not but it’s been sitting here one day!” You tried taking it off. He gripped it and shook his head.

“I won’t die!” He said before taking a sip and scrunching his nose. “This is fucking disgusting.”

“Why are you bloody drinking it?” You laughed.

He laughed, “I—I don’t know, but no it’s not that bad.”

“Thomas what the fuck,” you couldn’t stop laughing. “If you die then I’ll have to take care of your dead body and finding Harry, and my priority is finding Harry so I’d have to pull a Weekend at Bernie’s”

Tom giggled and stuck his tongue out, acting so terribly as if he was actually dying.

“You know,” you watched him with fake repulsion. “You deserve an Oscar for that one performance.”

“Right?” He grinned. “I’ll thank you when I receive it.”

You chuckled, “I think we should focus on Harry instead, yes?”

You both discussed places where he would go, that park? Unlikely. That Pub? He wasn’t there. Home?

Where in the world would he go?

“What if he—?” You were getting tired. “What if he didn’t run away?”

Tom looked over, he was rubbing his face, angry you hadn’t found him at the third pub. “That’s the thing, I don’t think he did.”

“It makes no sense, does it?” You questioned.

“No, he—he loves her,” Tom licked his lips. “It’s cause—“ he clutched to the wheel. “I don’t think Harry would—“

“No, I don’t think so—I just—“

It started to rain, because of course it bloody had to. Seemed that the ambiance always had the urge to level up to the level of drama you were always living.

“Jesus Christ, can we ever get into a dramatic moment without it raining?” Tom questioned, angrily.

You rolled your eyes, suppressing a laugh. “I—It was on the news forecast, I am sorry to inform you, but we’ve got nothing to do with the weather.”

Tom laughed, “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

“Alright, if he’s not at home then he’s—“You laughed, “Where the fuck is Harry?” You yelled, defeated.

Tom pinched the bridge of his nose. “I—hate Harry.”

You agreed. “Wait—wait, where’s your dad driving around?”

“Dunno, but he would’ve called,” Tom admitted. “Bloody hell, I hate Harry—I—can’t believe he did this.” You stayed quiet. If he had. What had led him to it? The day before he had been alright. Of course, he seemed nervous but he was excited, dreamy. In love.

“What do you know?” He questioned.

You frowned, getting your gaze back to him. “What?”

“You have your—thinking face on,” Tom pointed out. “See? Brow furrowed and hand on hair and everything,” he said. “You feel...guilty?”

“What?” You chuckled nervously. “No!”

“I know you guys spoke yesterday,” he recalled.

“Well yes, I wished him luck, but nothing—He gave me no clue of that, no clues of running away!” you admitted. “He was scared but he—I mean I thought it was usual wedding jitters but—he didn’t—I just—Calmed him. I mean he talked to you before, you probably were the one to scare him!”

“I—what?” Tom was taken aback. “I—I didn’t—“

“He talked to you before me!”

“yes, we talked but I gave him brotherly—marriage advice.”

You scoffed. “You? You gave him marriage advice?”

Tom chuckled nervously, “I—no, but—love advice.”

“We are the last people on earth that should give advice on that,” you stated.

He sighed, “I know but—“

“What did you say to him? Maybe you scared him and that’s why he ran away!” You stated, poking him.

He frowned, “Did not!”

“What did you even say to him?” You pushed. “I just know.”

He rolled his eyes, and mocked, “you just know?”

You playfully slapped his arm. “Yes, idiot! I know, you give the worst advice on love, you’re so dramatic.”

“I am dramatic?” He laughed.

“Yes,” you interrupted before he could even defend himself, “and—and, and I am too. We are—Oh god, are we to blame for Harry running away?”

Tom seemed to realize it at the same time. “I mean—Considering what we both could’ve said—“

Neither of you couldn’t help but laugh, maybe with guilt.

“I’m scared,” Tom admitted. He sighed, holding one last laughter.“We’re fucked.”

You both stayed calmly, as the rain halted against the car.

“What did you talk about with him?” He questioned.

Of course the question held more than that. You knew what he was asking about actually.

Seemed that both of you knew you had basically laid it on Harry the day before. Or maybe not. But where else would Tom ever get his advice from?

You had told him not to give up, you’d told Harry that he had found it, whatever love is, he’d found it.

“How I was proud of him, how I wanted what he was getting,” you shrugged.

You had also joked about how you and him wouldn’t have worked out. But you’d also said you were sorry it hadn’t worked out with Tom either. How you knew that him and Emma were not headed there, that he had nothing to worry about.

How you regretted the script. Spilling out your heartbreak for the world to see. Spilling your love story that was barely one and how people had a lot to say about it.

How it was painful to hide your love. How you knew Tom hadn’t moved on either but probably was planning to.

You told Harry to keep his feelings for Emma, and only Emma. That he didn’t have to share it. You had told Harry to treasure every morning, and to find a flower to talk for him.

“You?”

“I apologized for ruining his engagement party,” Tom nodded, “the first one.”

You both gulped.

“But how I—“ Tom shifted in his seat. “How I thought that they had found the silver linings for it all. That after being apart they’d just come back stronger. And how—I was happy for him. How they overcame all obstacles. And how they were just meant to be.”

“Soulmates they are,” you said. “Which is why it makes no sense he is not there.”

“We need to find him,” he stated.

You nodded. “We are very calm, though, considering-”

“Yeah,” he gave in. “I—What about the park?”

“Oh? The park? Not a park, the park, of course, how didn’t I think of that,” you teased. “Oh yes, the park. As if there aren’t hundreds of parks. Yes the park.”

He snorted a laugh, “shut up! You know where I meant!”

“Well, drive, you pillock!” You chuckled. “Drive to—the park!”

He rolled his eyes and was about to start the car, yet again.

“Wait,” there was a part of you that thought you knew where he might be. But—to explain where it was would be difficult. “Let me drive.”

To try and find Harry. Which was technically the quest.

You had less time now. You were tired. But there was something that was making you believe you could find him. You hoped you were right.

Being behind the wheel with Tom as your copilot was weird. You always let him drive because you usually were in charge of the music.

“Well, given that I’m here, I’ll be for the first time in charge of the music in your car,”he said. He seemed to have the same thing in mind.

Which was completely stupid since you were looking for a lost groom, but well, Tom and you didn’t have much in common but you could always brag about the same stupidity and brain cell you shared.

He took the aux cord as you were driving, driving to that location that wasn’t far enough. A place you knew that gave Harry peace. The park.

But of course your own peace was disturbed as ‘I think we're alone now’ played.

You hadn’t listened to that song in a long while, since you’d danced to it on his living room, most of the lights out, your screen light and his own eyes being the only light you needed. When the things were good.

You had, purposefully, erased most songs that ever reminded you of him.

“You seriously have that song?” You snorted as the memories flooded back in.

Tom avoided your glance and shrugged, “What? It’s on my playlist.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, I notice that. That’s how music works.”

There was silence. Probably driven by the growing fear of not finding Harry, probably coming from the fear that Harry had actually escaped. And what would that mean?

Had Tom and you really scared him?

But you both drowned the fear while humming the song.

Or maybe the silence came from the very memories of the song.

“It’s on this specific playlist honestly,” Tom said after a few songs.

You blinked, confused. “What?”

“It’s—the song,” he cleared up. “haven’t you noticed the songs playing are only songs you like? Or songs—”

Songs with background. You shrugged, “Well, we have similar taste.”

He laughed, “No, y/n, we truly don’t.”

You glanced at him, as he was looking out the window. “Huh, alright—maybe that is the reason we broke up.”

Tom clenched his jaw. “Don’t be an idiot.”

You rolled your eyes. “Never mind, that is.”

“No,” he squeezed his eyes shut. “what Imean—this is my—you playlist.”

You didn’t answer. Not right away.

“You’re not going to say anything?” Tom asked.

“What does that even mean?” You questioned.

He licked his lips. “I—well.”

“So you ignore me but you have a playlist—a me playlist?” You questioned.

Tom licked his lips, “I’m sorry I’ve been ignoring you, it’s—been hard.”

It had been, for you, too. “It’s harder if we are apart,” you pointed out.

He gulped, “That is my point,” he coughed. “We are friends,” he said. “And lately, before I started ignoring you—We were—“

You had been acting a bit more than what friends are supposed to act like. And a wedding always brings romance in everything so it was hard.

You cleared your throat, “It makes it weirder if we both walk away from the other.”

Tom bit his lip, “is it, really?” He watched you carefully. “Because, y/n, I—I’ve been… jealous, how they solved it. And how we couldn’t, after we both tried it was so hard, how we kept falling back.”

You had been slightly jealous, too.

“And, really, I—look, I love my brother and Emma, it’s not them ,” he continued, he rolled his eyes. “For all I know, we are both bitter because before James’ wedding happened we were both talking about… marriage and all,” Tom continued. “And they basically stole what could have been our wedding.”

So you were going to have that conversation. A conversation you had avoided even before the breakup. How both of you were… in talks. How you were expecting it. How you’d jitter if he ever got on his knee to tie his shoe, how every time you’d be waiting for it.

“We didn’t even get engaged,” you pointed out, in an attempt to be cynical, probably.

He coughed, “We talked about it. Good thing—We didn’t get that far because, well.”

“I think we both thought marrying would salvage us from falling,” you stated. “Or we thought it was the next step.”

He shrugged, “Yeah, I think we did,” he admitted. “But I—Back then I really thought, I dunno. I was really about to ask.”

You took a deep breath, “I would’ve said yes,” you said easily, though it hurt to even think about it. Though, you had been prepared to say yes.

“It wouldn’t have been right,” he pointed out. “We would’ve broken up before even getting to plan it.”

He was right. So, so right, because where you were heading wasn’t a wedding, you were heading to an even more hurtful breakup.

The decision had been made acknowledging this. Knowing it would hurt less then. Avoiding a terrible breakup.

“We were on a thin line,” you agreed. “Anything would’ve broken us.”

“I knew we were going through a rough patch but—I think we never realized how rough it was.”

You sighed, “Maybe I fucked up when we came back here, when I decided not to move in.”

Tom took a deep breath, “No, it wasn’t that.”

What was it? What had it been?

“I don’t know where we went wrong,” you admitted. “I really don’t.”

He shook his head, confirming he didn’t either. When asked, neither of you had a reason. It just—happened. Things had been just so rough and hard. Nothing to hold on to.

Though it didn’t make sense, you loved him. And he loved you.

“I think we both expected things to get better by themselves.” Tom played with his fingers and watched the window, staring at the raindrops slipping through it. Sliding easily, without no one stopping them.

“And we grew tired of fighting,” you added, as you stopped at a red light.

“Can't even remember what we were fighting about,” he confessed.

You took a heavy breath in, as the music still played in the background. “About nothing, and about everything. We fought over serious stuff, like whether we wanted to be public or not. A little about Tim and Cherry. And over stupid stuff mostly, yeah mostly over stupid stuff. Like when we were supposed to wake up for certain events or what tie you’d wear for James’ wedding, we fought over you staying at my place too much. We also fought about FaceTime hours, and whether we had to ask if we were available for it or not.”

Tom dedicated his glance back to you, sad, upset and full of regret. “I remember the cereal one.”

You raised your brows, “Yeah, that one was a smashing doors one.”

“Over stupid cereal,” he sighed as he brushed his face. “We were so—“

“Toxic?” You finished his sentence.

He chuckled, “yeah, mostly at the end.”

“The beginning too, I mean,” you shook your head. “I—We had sex to just solve everything. Thomas, we had hatred sex.”

He chuckled. “Well.”

You shrugged, “And that’s how we solved the fights initially.”

“It wasn’t enough at the end,” he added.

“It never was, and that’s—Thats why, although we both said we would talk we just—I think that’s why it didn’t work, at the end we just—grew tired of each other, the spark was gone.”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“Maybe it was the script,” you pointed out. “Everything concerning it.”

Learning he had a lot to do with the fact it was made had made you doubt yourself, the one true accomplishment had come because he had come to the rescue. Although it had been nice it had really started the downfall of your trust.

“No,” he shrugged.

He didn’t want to talk about it. You had had enough talks about the script, over the fact you wrote it and then regretted it. Over filming and the input he had in the movie, how the character had more in depth than before.

Over the fact he had come to your rescue because it hadn’t been good enough. That one specially had been the start of your downfall. Seemed that when you learned about it, you had completely gone mental. Though, it had come from his heart, he didn’t understand why you were angry.

You had always asked him not to ever give a hand with your writing, if you wanted to succeed it would be for your own accomplishments.

Then again, there was also this side that loved he had helped.

Truth is, it hadn’t affected your relationship, but it had affected your own self trust. And if you can’t trust yourself, however will you trust someone else?

Enough talks had been had.

“No,” Tom started. “We were guilty. Both of us, as if we were making it up for past mistakes. I never stopped thinking about what Tim said, and I think that’s why I always tried making it up for all the other times I hurt you. And then you tried making it up for the script, or—Whatever, it was a relationship built up on guilt.”

“Yeah, I think,” you whispered almost not wanting to be heard, “we both had things to learn about ourselves, and forgive ourselves first… and the timing was wrong.”

Tom shrugged, “Isn't it always wrong with us?”

Time was your true enemy. Or maybe it was easier to blame time rather than yourselves. Time was nothing.

It had been you and your pride or your fear, or whatever you came up with now.

However, there was some truth in that statement. Maybe in the past few months it had been time.

When you had told James and Harry you might want to get back together, Tom was dating.

When you were dating, Harry had told you he was thinking about it.

But what about now? Neither of you were dating, you were single and every odd could push you both to be together. Yet…You were not.

How disappointing, you would always think. Such a long story to end up like this.

How disappointing, really.

“No,” he stated, once again. “It’s not time. The problem might be we are the most stupid people to walk on earth.”

“Sounds reasonable,” you said. You nudged him, “look at us now, though, able to talk.”

“I like where we are, yeah,” Tom commented. “I think we are in a good place, we trust each other, we are friends, good friends, we take care, we hang out. We talk. And actually talk.”

You were focusing on the road, mainly, but your heart wanted to say more things. “Yeah.”

“There’s something bothering you,” Tom stared, intrigued.

“I don’t like you avoiding me,” you stated. “I really can’t stand it.”

“I won’t avoid you, then.”

Then, it was quiet. And it didn’t matter, you enjoyed moments of silence, and it wasn’t awkward. Both of you had learned that sometimes you just don’t have to say a word.

But you had to, in fear he would feel you were angry at the previous conversation.“It’s not even all songs I like,” you pointed out.

“Hm?”

“The playlist,” you decided you didn’t want to continue that past conversation.

He coughed, “So we are changing the conversation, huh? Well, they are songs that remind me of you but hey!” He nudged you. “Which ones don’t you like?”

So easily changing subjects and getting out a smile.

“I—we can get back to that later,” you turned to him and let out a soft chuckle. “songs that remind you of me?” You smirked, poking his shoulder.

He blushed, rolling his eyes. “Yes,” he admitted defeatedly.

You laughed, “You’re such a nerd.”

“What the fuck! It’s supposed to be sweet!” He complained.

You shrugged. “Or creepy.”

“No, it’s not—“

“I’m kidding I’m—more flattered than spooked—“ you admitted. “So why are you playing it?” You poked his cheek this time and he pushed your hand away.

“Because I’ve noticed you always complain about the music so when I play this you don’t!” He explained, annoyed.

“Oh, so it’s merely to keep me quiet,” you snickered, nodding.

Tom was moving his jaw, “Yes, basically.”

You glanced again, mischievously. “Wasn’t it supposed to be sweet?”

“No.”

You reached for his hair. “Tommy.”

“Don’t Tommy me,” he chuckled. “You called me creepy.”

“Yes, I don’t know how to flirt so I bully you, I thought we had that covered,” you snapped without giving it a second thought. Then completely regretting it.

His smirk was wide now, as he laughed maniacally. “Oh so you’re flirting.”

Your turn to blush had come. “No.”

He grinned. “You are.”

But then it was a miracle, a way to avoid this subject completely because it was not the conversation to be having with the current situation. “Shut up.”

“No, you are trying to flirt with me, I won’t shut up!” He mocked you.

“Shut up!”

“No!”

“Thomas! I think that’s Harry!”

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sezja · 2 years

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What mythical creature would they be represented by?

What real life animal would they be represented by (or Eorzean animals)?

Also for characters I mention here you didn’t reply the colors too.

Any ocs but can we have Marty and Tsimh and bard boys also a challenge, Steph just because I’m curious but please talk about others too I need to meet them. (I swear I’m not playing favorite ocs I love them all) Also Darcy too. Need to know them more.

And too prove I read your posts and make you think, Papawazu!

Also I know nothing about him but Garland, I google later then buy the game.

Also you have a hrothgar? Oh! Never went there. Is it cool? I hope they gave hrothgals and no difference in shape.

Going to make your brain think now.

AMINALS

Thematic OC Questions (still accepting!)

Martiallais: Okay, so for mythical creatures, I feel like he's probably something like a centaur - strong, mobile, able to scoop up Tsimh onto his back and ride off to safety. As a more ordinary animal, I feel like he's likely some kind of bird. A hunting hawk, maybe - intelligent, well-trained, and loyal to those who continue to deserve that loyalty. I don't necessarily have a color theme for him yet - he keeps winding up in dark blues, but that's mostly just the luck of the draw with leveling gear, rather than a deliberate choice. I do think he favors dark colors in clothing, though - easier to remain looking clean while living rough with the poachers, that way.

Tsimh: Fairy. Something small but not to be fucked with. As an ordinary animal, probably like... some kind of small but cute rodent - a mouse, maybe, or a hamster? Something small, but with a fierce bite if you mess with it too much. Her colors are dusky pinks and blue-greys: muted colors, often with white accents.

Stephanivien: Do Dwarves count? Not like the First's Dwarves, obviously, but your traditional blacksmithing dwarves. That's my pick for Steph, though I don't think "traditional" ever suits him, particularly (and it's funny to think of an elezen as a dwarf). In terms of normal animals, god, I have no idea. I want him to be a workshop cat - a big fluffy thing you can pick up and hug between projects. His color, of course, is Deepwood Green.

Darcy: Phoenix, definitely - they are a fire mage, first and foremost, but more importantly they were content to burn away their past life and start again as an apostate (in Dragon Age, this is Big Illegal for mages). In FFXIV, they're a half-Garlean conscript who sees their chance to escape and bolts, straight into Eorzea, never looking back. Either way, the theme of destroying one life to rise again is pretty strong in their life. As a normal animal, absolutely some manner of hellishly clever corvid, too smart for their own good and constantly needing to be rescued by humans.

Papawazu: YESSS MY FAVORITE CAPITALIST Leprechaun. :| No, not because he's a lalafell, but because he makes deals with you, playing by his own rules - rules he's content to modify ("security surcharge. Everybody does it.") as he sees fit. He's a rat. But like, someone's pampered pet rat, sleek and soft and shiny, smart but doesn't have to work hard. Cute but will bite you just to remind you it's got teeth. I love him??? I love him.

Garland: Oh man okay uhhhh. It's hard to say much about Garland without horrendously spoiling FFIX, but I'll do my best. I'll say he's like... a lich, controlling the dead. In his case, it's a dead world, but it counts; he's manipulating souls for his own ends, and whether those ends are justified are up to interpretation. In terms of real-world animals, a tortoise - ancient and armored, content to remain in his shell while others do his bidding. His color, naturally, is the red heart of Terra.

I do have a Hrothgar! And my god, same; ideally what I'd want is for Tajna to look exactly the same way she does now, with she/her pronouns. But I'm not sure I trust SE not to give us... tiny catgirls, but furrier. :c

#long post #thank you!! my goodness i had to think about the mythical creatures

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richincolor · 2 years

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My Summer Re-Reads

Since the pandemic began I've been doing a number of re-reads, allowing myself to get lost again in worlds that I treasured. Now that summer is here and I have some extra time, I plan to spend it re-reading a number of books. If you haven't read any of these books, now is the time, or if you have, why don't you pick them up again?

With the Fire on High by Elizabeth Acevedo

With her daughter to care for and her abuela to help support, high school senior Emoni Santiago has to make the tough decisions, and do what must be done. The one place she can let her responsibilities go is in the kitchen, where she adds a little something magical to everything she cooks, turning her food into straight-up goodness.

Still, she knows she doesn’t have enough time for her school’s new culinary arts class, doesn’t have the money for the class’s trip to Spain—and shouldn’t still be dreaming of someday working in a real kitchen. But even with all the rules she has for her life—and all the rules everyone expects her to play by—once Emoni starts cooking, her only real choice is to let her talent break free.

Pride by Ibi Zoboi

Zuri Benitez has pride. Brooklyn pride, family pride, and pride in her Afro-Latino roots. But pride might not be enough to save her rapidly gentrifying neighborhood from becoming unrecognizable.

When the wealthy Darcy family moves in across the street, Zuri wants nothing to do with their two teenage sons, even as her older sister, Janae, starts to fall for the charming Ainsley. She especially can’t stand the judgmental and arrogant Darius. Yet as Zuri and Darius are forced to find common ground, their initial dislike shifts into an unexpected understanding.

But with four wild sisters pulling her in different directions, cute boy Warren vying for her attention, and college applications hovering on the horizon, Zuri fights to find her place in Bushwick’s changing landscape, or lose it all.

In a timely update of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice, critically acclaimed author Ibi Zoboi skillfully balances cultural identity, class, and gentrification against the heady magic of first love in her vibrant reimagining of this beloved classic.

Summer is also the time for re-reading series and I want to dive into these two again.

Want (Want #1) by Cindy Pon

Jason Zhou survives in a divided society where the elite use their wealth to buy longer lives. The rich wear special suits that protect them from the pollution and viruses that plague the city, while those without suffer illness and early deaths. Frustrated by his city’s corruption and still grieving the loss of his mother, who died as a result of it, Zhou is determined to change things, no matter the cost.

With the help of his friends, Zhou infiltrates the lives of the wealthy in hopes of destroying the international Jin Corporation from within. Jin Corp not only manufactures the special suits the rich rely on, but they may also be manufacturing the pollution that makes them necessary.

Yet the deeper Zhou delves into this new world of excess and wealth, the more muddled his plans become. And against his better judgment, Zhou finds himself falling for Daiyu, the daughter of Jin Corp’s CEO. Can Zhou save his city without compromising who he is or destroying his own heart?

The Good Luck Girls by Charlotte Nicole Davis

Aster, the protector

Violet, the favorite

Tansy, the medic

Mallow, the fighter

Clementine, the catalyst

THE GOOD LUCK GIRLS

The country of Arketta calls them Good Luck Girls--they know their luck is anything but. Sold to a "welcome house" as children and branded with cursed markings. Trapped in a life they would never have chosen.

When Clementine accidentally murders a man, the girls risk a dangerous escape and harrowing journey to find freedom, justice, and revenge in a country that wants them to have none of those things. Pursued by Arketta's most vicious and powerful forces, both human and inhuman, their only hope lies in a bedtime story passed from one Good Luck Girl to another, a story that only the youngest or most desperate would ever believe.

It's going to take more than luck for them all to survive.

#Book list #Summer Reads #weneeddiversebooks

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midnight-lightning · 4 years

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A Flicker Of Green

Can I request a Loki x Reader where Y/N loves Loki (and he doesn't know) but she is insecure and jealous of another girl who she thinks he likes (could be Sigyn, Amora, Darcy, or even an original character). So on Valentines day she gets all depressed when the other girl asks him out for a date. But little does Y/N know that Loki actually loves her too. How they end up confessing is up to you :) I hope this request wasn't annoyingly detailed or anything.Thank you!<3

Request By @vonaralaufeyson

Thank you for your lovely request!

Hope you like it :)

It was times like these you wished you’d have listened to your mother and kept a diary. Not to keep the memories you don’t want to forget but just to write down your feelings you couldn’t talk about with no one.

This thought made you snort. A diary? Yeah, sure and it would just go like,

Dear Diary,

It’s currently 2am and I’m lying in bed with nothing but the thoughts of him and I.

Or,

Dear Diary,

So there’s this guy… that doesn’t want to leave my mind. There’s this guy, who’s smile could make my whole day a lot better. There’s this guy who’s eyes, green like emeralds keep me awake at night. There’s this guy, who I can’t stop dreaming about him. And every time I close my eyes it’s his face, his eyes and his beautiful damn smile I see. And this smile was just for me. Because it was me who made him smile. Me. I was able to do this. And I can’t wait to do this again. There’s this boy I crave to see again, because every conversation we ever had will never be enough to fill my satisfaction. And just the thought of him, is enough to keep me awake. And even though I know the chances we ever will be more than friends are low, in fact it’s even lower than low, I can’t let you go. Because of my hope. This damn hope.

Yeah… see. That would be pretty cheesy.

You let out a groan and buried your head deeper in to your pillow. This was bad. Real bed. And still, you couldn’t help but smile a little.

You were born into a rich, noble family. Your parents always worked close for and with the royal family. So it was only naturally you grew up alongside the princes of Asgard and it was your luck they both had gotten to like you, especially Loki. Because, if we’re being honest, life would be a bit harder, if the god of mischief would have a down on you. They’d help you escape from your Nanny and hide you somewhere in the garden or in their rooms, you would together steal food from the kitchen or play hide and seek in the garden, watch Loki do his mischief, laugh, cry together and comfort each other, when life’s or parents getting tough on you.

But the last couple of days you haven’t seen much of either of them so when you caught a glimpse of red and gold, in the hallway you couldn’t help but ignore your time schedule and follow the person, who you suspected to be Thor.

The outstanding warrior he was, Thor immediately noticed that he was being followed and stopped in his tracks, his stern face lit up when he saw you.

“Y/N! It’s so good to see you again! How have you been the last couple of days?”

You couldn’t help but smile brightly, a happy Thor was pretty contaminating. “You know, the usual. Trying to ditch my responsibilities, helping my parents to pack for their moving and missing you guys! What was going on?” You asked a little reproachfully and crossed your arms. Of course you wouldn’t be actually angry with them not having time for you, after all they have a whole kingdom to lead.

“My deepest apologies, Y/N, we were needed to help mother at the organizations for Day of Freya. You know how much she adored this festivity and the ball.” He suddenly realized what you had also mentioned and frowned confused. “Wait, what do you mean your parents’ moving? You wouldn’t mean the Midgardian moving now, do you? “

Thor’s smile faded at the thought of you going away to another planet for years, not being able to see you nearly every day. What would become of all the new adventures you, Thor and Loki always made together? They had always been more fun with his friends than with the kingdom’s knights.

You chuckled a little at Thor’s startled expression. “Don’t worry, I am allowed to stay here in Asgard and live with my aunt.”

“Oh, what a relief. I wouldn’t want to imagine royal life without you and neither what mess my brother would be without you here.”

You froze. What?

Thor let out a loud laugh at your puzzled expression and patted your shoulder lovingly, which only made you even more nervous somehow. “My friend…It is time to finally open those lovely eyes of yours because mine have already been a while now and believe when I say my suspicions of the affections between you and my dear brother haven’t gone unnoticed.”

With wide eyes and a burning face you stared back at the God of Thunder, utterly shocked. How could he even know? “You…I! Me and…What?”

Much to your annoyance and Thor’s amusement the right words wouldn’t want to come out of your mouth.

“Listen, you’re my best friend,” Thor said with a fond smile. “And a great person and even though I would say Loki could live a million lives and still wouldn’t deserve you… I know you would make each other happy. And when you’re happy, I’m happy. I would say it’s a win-win for all of us.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the prince didn’t even give you the chance. “Between us, right now, Loki is in the ball room, probably pretending to do some work while trying to blow something up as usual… Good luck.” With a mischievous wink, that reminded you too much of a certain other prince he put his hands from your shoulder and went away, leaving you overstrained and stunned in the hallway.

As much as you loved Thor and his sometimes over motivated intentions, sometimes things changed a little too fast and too much.

Nevertheless, you decided to visit Loki in the ballroom, of course not for confessing your feelings. You just… missed him. Like, you hadn’t seen him in a while, right? And you had wanted to search for the brothers anyways.

You bit your lip, deciding if it actually was that good of an idea, but your desire to see him again, made your heart beat louder and your stomach flutter, so you gave in.

The day of Freya was already tomorrow thus the great hall was filled with servants and attendants who gathered all around to put the final touches to the already now stunning looking ballroom. You noticed the place where the food will be served tomorrow and made a mental note to memorize it, hopefully there will be Frigg pastries. Odin, the simply thought of this magnificent dessert…

But even the thoughts of your favourite food didn’t stay a chance the moment you saw Loki.

He was sitting at the water fountain and just as Thor said (honestly it wasn’t a surprise anyway) he appeared to be focused in a book he was reading.

You squeezed you’re eyes in suspicion. Surely he wouldn’t be sitting here, in a room full of stressed out and loud people in order to read? You had the bad feeling something Loki-like would happen any sec-

Sudden loud shrieks and shouts from the west side of the hall had you dead in the tracks. You whirled around to see what was going on only to have your suspicions confirmed. The place where just moments ago gold garland had embellished the wall, were now snakes either hanging around or crawling on the floor.

You turned around again to Loki, who hadn’t moved even a little and was still reading his book. His only reaction to the scenario was the hint of a satisfied smirk on his lips.

Shaking your head, you continued your way towards him, trying not to disturb any of the servants or get crashed by one in the new panic.

“This poor people have already enough stress don’t you think, your majesty?”

Loki looked up and as usual your heart stopped for a second the moment his eyes met yours. You tried to hide your nervousness with a grin which he responded with a sly smirk.

“Maybe. But I am bored.”

You sat down next to him at the fountain and gave him a stern look.

Usually you loved his pranks and mischief but if any of his actions endangered the serving of Frigg pastries the game’s over.

As if he just read your mind Loki rolled his eyes and watched you in amusement. “You need to stop worrying about the food, love, I would never put my life in danger by risking to harm your pastries. Which I’m sure would be served nevertheless.”

You couldn’t help yourself but laughed a little. Sometimes it still surprised you how well he knew you.

Still, Loki lifted his hand and snapped his fingers. Immediately the snakes turned into dust, the garlands returned and the shouting calmed down – much to your relief.

You turned your head back to Loki only to find him already looking at you with a wary gaze.

You frowned. “Is something wrong?”

“I saw yours and your family’s name on mother’s mentioning list of the people who participate as volunteers to move to Midgard. I thought you said you wanted to stay?”

Was there…hurt in his voice?

Immediately you shook your head. “No, no! Well, actually yes, but not me! Well, my name, yes, but not- “you took a deep breath a little embarrassed and Loki’s amused grin didn’t help in the slightest ways to calm to nerves. “My parents are moving, yes. But I didn’t want to leave the poor kingdom to your mischief and was allowed to stay behind with my aunt.”

He chuckled. “Don’t pretend you don’t love to participate.”

To that you raised both your hands in defeat. “Alright, alright, you got me there.”

“But I’m actually glad you decided to stay, considering the opportunity Midgard could give.”

“Midgard doesn’t have you,” you replied without thinking and immediately got the urge to slap yourself in the face. Oh Odin…

The prince tilted his head a little.

“I mean… I mean I would be bored to death down there.”

“So I am just the entertainment for you?” He teased, but you already went into panic mode and didn’t notice he was only joking.

“No! No, of course not! You’re my friend, but like more than a friend! Wait, no, I mean best friend! Not an entertainer, I mean, yes of course you are so hilarious, but also so intelligent and charming and it’s so easy and calming to talk with you and I love your compa-“

You stopped your rambling. “Why are you laughing?”

His eyes sparkled with joy. “My apologies, darling, I’m just glad we won’t lose your adorable voice for another while.”

He placed his hand on your cheek and your breath stopped.

“Besides even if you moved, no kingdom in the world could stop me from visiting you. Because believe or not, love- “he lowered his voice and bend down to your ear, giving you shivers. “I, as well, enjoy your company.”

At this time, you were sure, you weren’t functioning anymore.

He moved his head back a little, leaving not much space between your faces. Loki’s eyes flickered between yours and you noticed the small smile on his lips.

Your heart was pounding so loud you were afraid he could be able to hear it.

What mess my brother would be without you here

Thor’s words echoed in your head and a thought flashed your mind.

Could he…?

Only an inch, just an inch you moved closer, your eyes not leaving his…

With his hand still on your cheek he pulled you even closer…

You closed your eyes and-

“Prince Loki!”

Startled you opened your eyes and immediately jumped away.

A young woman was standing in front of you.

Freydís, if you remembered right.

She and her family were visiting Asgard for the Day of Freya and were close friends of queen Frigga.

“My apologies, am I interrupting something?” She asked with an excoriatingly gaze your way.

Freydís didn’t even bother to wait for an answer instead she put on a charming smile and took a deep breath. “Loki, it’s so good to see you again! I can’t wait to spend this time with you, just like we used to when we were little do you remember?”

You were unsure of how to react. She was nobility, and even if you were as well, she was at a higher position.

Freydís cold gaze met you once more and you decided the best way to not start any trouble was to leave. You knew Loki could end this, but it was better when you left by yourself, it wouldn’t be right if he we chose you, over his mother’s guests.

So you stood up. “My lady”, you bowed quickly and intended to leave, avoiding Loki’s eyes.

As you left, you heard her scoff in annoyance. “Anyway, we certainly need to dance tomorrow at the ball as Freya’s Day is basically my day too, as we share the same name-

On the way back to your apartment you needed everything you’ve got to not get angry. Nevertheless, you couldn’t help but stamp a little bit too much.

By all means! How can somebody be so rude! Like, yeah, you got it, she’s nobility, a princess, who cares, there was NO need to-

Calm down, y/n

Caaaaaaaaaaaaaaaalm dooooooooooown.

Deep breaths.

Think of Loki, think of what he had said to you…

Oh my Odin

Were you really about to kiss him??

Oh, dear lord…

But no matter what, you had hoped, even the tiniest, tiniest bit, to be able to dance even just one, or a half of a dance with him tomorrow. But now this Freya 2.0 has destroyed your hopes.

“Y/N!”

You whirled around to see Thor coming towards you, as usual a big, happy grin on his face.

“Just noticed you walk here, how was it?” He winked and even though nothing really had happened your cheeks heated up.

You sighted a little. “It was great. Only that…well, do you know Freydís?”

Thor’s face fell. “Oh.”

“Yeah…”

“Oh…Oh, no, don’t worry, she’ll be gone again soon, you’ll see. There’s no need to be concerned or jealous, y/n.”

At this your head shot up. “I’m not jealous!”

Thor tilted his head, smirking. “Sure. So you wouldn’t have anything against it if she would spend the ball with Loki tomorrow?”

“Nope.”

“And dance with him?”

“Nope.”

“The whole evening?”

“If he wants to.”

“What about…eating Frigg Pastries?”

At this you squeezed your eyes dangerously. “She wouldn’t dare”, you rumbled dimly.

Thor laughed out loud and shook his head. “Well, then I suggest you show them what’s in you.”

The next day you haven’t seen neither Loki nor Thor and thank Odin neither Freydís. They were all probably too engaged in the last preparations. A certain someone needed to look even more dashing as she will be at the side of a certain prince the whole evening.

You had been trying to convince yourself to not be bitter about her, Loki and the whole situation. You knew, how much you meant to Loki, even as just best friends, you were important to him and no woman, may she be ever so beautiful and charming, could… well actually she could… No, she couldn’t replace you, at least not in that way.

You shook your head in annoyance. These thoughts were making you crazy!

But still, this certain sparkling green eyes and mischievous smile wouldn’t leave your mind.

Were you even prepared to be able watching him dance and joke around the whole evening with her?

No matter what, you were determined to look good, more than good today und prepared the best dress you could find.

“Oh darling, you look stunning!” your mother exclaimed as you walked into the saloon to meet up with your parents.

“Isn’t it a bit too stunning? It’s just a ball?”

“Well, father, it’s our last ball together for a long time, after all. People shouldn’t tend to forget us, should they?” You answered winking. “I think we are ready, right, Mom?”

Your mother eyed you a little suspicious, her instinct telling her that there’s more than you tell. “Right, honey.” She nodded slowly, linking your arm in hers. “Let’s have a wonderful evening.”

The guards opened the doors and you were greeted by so shining golden light, wonderful music, people dancing, talking, sitting or eating.

“Oh, Frigga just surpassed herself once again. It’s so astonishing!” you heard your mother exclaim delightful. You smiled a little before excusing yourself for a while.

Honestly you felt good. You tried not to let the sadness inside your head, instead you wanted to enjoy this ball, this evening. You loved your outfit, and you even earned some compliments during small talks. It was difficult not trying to search for the princes as you usually spend balls and other gatherings together, but it would be probably for the best if you skipped this little tradition for today.

Anyway…you knew where you would find yourself sooner or later and frankly you hoped it was sooner, because you were already hungry.

After some more small talks you finally reached the huge buffet table and tried not to squeal in joy when you spotted the Frigg pastries on a golden tablet.

“Oh, hello my beauties. I love you so much.”

You try your hardest not to inhale them, but they are just so rarely served…

“I’m not even in the slightest surprised to find you here.”

Your mouth full with pastries you barely managed to not choke when you suddenly heard his voice close behind you.

Very close.

“You have always been so obsessed with them, I will never understand why”, Loki continued.

You swallowed the pastries, inhaled deeply and then turned around.

“That’s because you never-“ You stopped. Loki was wearing a royal suit, you have – sadly- never seen on him. Of course in his favourite colours, golden and green. The colours only making his eyes shine even more brightly.

Loki lifted his eyebrow. “Never what?”

Right. You forced your eyes back up to his face and swallowed again.

Dear Love, Y/N…straight face. You cleared your throat.

“Because you never had taste. Clearly.”

Surprisingly he didn’t answer. Instead his eyes widen a little, trying to take you all in without his eyes leaving yours even for a second.

The corners of his lips twitched a little before he bent his head a little and offered his hand.

“My lady, would you give me the honor of this dance?”

Oh dear Odin, not gonna lie… that was hot.

Once more, you cleared your throat, tying to control your emotions and ignoring every fibre of your body that shouted to just say yes.

“I thought you were reserved for Lady Freydís?”

The prince looked up in confusion. “Why would you think that?”

“I-I well, she settled for both of you to dance and she’s the princess or whatever, I mean I…”

You shut up when the realization dawned you, that no matter what, no matter who, Loki will stay Loki and always do what he wants. How could you forget that?

“I have standards, Y/N,” he said bluntly and looked as if you’d offended him.

“And I fit these standards?”

“You preset them.”

You stared at him a little taken back.

I will never be able to predict him in any way

Softly he placed your hand in his own and you let him, smiling softly when the prince lead you towards the other dancers.

You put your hand on his shoulder and Loki his other hand on your waist. You looked up.

His face was so close… Loki smiled, a breathtaking genuine smile and not even Odin could have stopped you from returning the smile.

The music started … and then you danced.

Looking back, you wouldn’t be able what music was being played, nor what you were actually dancing. All you will be remember was his eyes looking at you, with such gentleness, his smile on his lips that never vanished even for a second. There were only him and you, no one and nothing more.

“I feel the need to give my apologies for what happened yesterday,” he started.

You wanted to protest, because honestly nothing of that mattered anymore, but he continued.

“It wasn’t Freydís place to treat you in such way, princess or not and I think I made this very clear.”

At your startled expression he chuckled amused. “Don’t worry, she’s all right…I guess.”

At this you gave him a slight clap. “Loki!”

“May I notice how tremendously magnificent you look?”

“You may, your majesty. Thus I can only give in return,” you replied grinning.

And then he kissed you.

Just like that.

Both hands gently on your cheeks, stroking your hair behind your ears.

Just like that.

You stood there, surrounded by dancing couples, music playing, people talking around you.

But in this moment there was just him.

And there will forever only be him.

Loki.

#loki x reader #loki x you #loki imagine #avengers #avengers imagine #marvel #loki god of mischief #loki chat #marvel imagine #loki #thor #Thor lord of thunder #y/n #Loki x y/n

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just-random-imagines · 4 years

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Don’t Scream

IMAGINE: The original Ghostface killers have focused on their new target, you. Their plans change, however, when someone else threatens your life. After that night, nothing will ever be the same for you. Set in modern times! WORD COUNT:  3.4k WARNINGS: Mentions of blood & gore, shitty ending.

“Darcy, how do you expect Lizzie to accept your proposal if you keep insulting her by bringing up the differences between your classes?” You shout at the tv screen.

Here you were, alone in your house on a Friday night, watching Pride and Prejudice. Fun, huh?

“Matthew, don’t pout like that!” You tell the actor on screen. “You knew this was coming, don’t act like an idiot!”

But how could you stay angry at Matthew for so long? He was only playing his part.

As the scene moves on, you suddenly find yourself distracted by a sudden noise. Thinking it might’ve been your parents, you tentatively call out for them. “Mom? Dad? You guys back already?”

When nothing else happens, you shrug your shoulders and shut everything down. It was getting late anyway, and you just wanted to fall asleep in your own bed.

Just as you finally cleaned up the mess you had made, you were taken aback when the house phone rang. Against your better judgment, you picked up the phone without even looking at the ID on the dim screen.

“Hello, (Last Name) residence,” you utter into the speaker, attempting to seem more awake than you were.

“Hello there,” a voice on the other line drawled.

“Hi,” you reply, scrunching your forehead in confusion. This voice didn’t seem to register in your half-asleep mind as you tried to figure out who it was.

“Who’s this?” You ask politely.

“No one,” the voice answered. “I must have called the wrong number.”

Stifling a laugh, you feel yourself shake your head. “Oh, I hate it when that happens,” you say honestly. “Lemme guess you accidentally butt-dialed me?”

“No,” the voice chuckled, the smooth tone of it convincing you it was a man on the other side of the line. “I was just-”

You quickly tuned out the man when you heard another noise, slightly louder than the one you heard before. As you try to figure out what it was, you quickly remember your unseen guest.

“-hat noise?”

“What?” You whisper into the phone.

“What was that noise I heard?” The man asked.

“I’m not-” You stick your head around the corner and quickly clamp a hand over your mouth.

A duo of men was standing in front of your open door. They had broken a nearby window from the outside and the door looked like someone had kicked it open.

Seeing as the men had not noticed you yet, you quickly slip back into the living room and search for a hiding spot. A few whimpers escaped your throat, just soft enough for the intruders to dismiss but loud enough for the phone’s microphone to pick up.

“What’s going on?!” The voice demanded.

“There are men… In my house,” you hiss, trying not to catch unwanted attention.

Silence was all you heard. You were afraid they had cut the phone line when the man came back, his voice sounding harsh and cold.

“Find somewhere to hide and stay there,” he commanded stiffly. Your body suddenly hesitated, and for good reason.

You didn’t even know whoever was on the other side of the line, and yet they were here, helping keep you alive. But you quickly snapped out of your trance as you heeded his words. Fear was eating you alive as you struggled to not lose it.

If you weren’t so panic-stricken, you might’ve hung up the phone and called the police!

Pressing the phone to your chest, you sneakily made your way past the burglars as they ransacked your home. You thought your heart would just burst out of your chest as you crept into your bedroom. With shaky hands, you locked the door.

“What now?” You whisper into the phone, terrified that one of your guests might hear you.

“Get in the closet and stay there,” the man ordered.

“I-I…. I c-can’t,” you stutter quietly, finding yourself rooted to the floor. You couldn’t move, no matter how much you wanted to.

“DO IT NOW!” The voice snarled, scaring you out of your wits.

Suddenly frightened at the anger in his voice, you toss the phone away. The fear grew stronger as the device smacked into the wall. The sheer force of it had created a sharp ‘smack’ that rattled you to the core.

Sending out a silent plea that you hadn’t been heard, you hold in a shriek as you hear the men from before start talking to one another.

“Did you hear that, Antoine?” One of them questioned, his voice hoarse and in desperate need of a glass of water.

“Yes, I did. It seems we’re not the only ones here,” came a dark reply, the voice rougher than the sharpest piece of sandpaper.

You could feel the air harshly leave your body as you struggled to gain a proper breath.

I’m going to die. I’m going to die. I’m going to-

Your panicked thoughts were quickly interrupted as you heard the front door slam against the wall. You heard the men shout in alarm as they focused on their new distraction.

The sounds of blood-curdling wails filled your ears as you listened to the men grunt and shout as they fought.

But what was there to fight? Besides the intruders, you were the only one in the house. Surely, they weren’t stupid enough to turn on each other.

“Get away from him!” Said the second man as a series of crashes echoed through the hall. He let out a cry as he too was attacked.

A mangled sob escaped your lips as you listened to the men scream and scream until their pitiful wails suddenly cut off rather quickly.

Tears ran down your face, creating a steady stream that cascaded down your chin like heavy rain. As they fell to the floor, you realized that the third party made himself known as heavy footsteps stomped down the hallway causing a ruckus.

The fear in your chest grew as you realized they were heading towards your room.

Snapping out your immobile state, you rushed to your open closet and hid inside, quietly closing the doors. Almost immediately, you heard someone banging on your bedroom door as they struggled to open it. A series of low grunts reached your ears as you heard someone throwing themselves against the weakening slab of wood.

Definitely going to die. Going to die right now. I will never tell (Favorite Actor) that I love them. I-

You stopped your internal rambling once you realized that you no longer heard that awful banging. You couldn’t help but hope that whoever was on the other side of the door left and wouldn’t return.

What luck you had.

You screamed out into your hand as the door slammed open, falling onto your hardwood floors with another harsh bang. With both hands cupping your mouth now, you tried to control your breathing that came out in short, uneven puffs that resembled a panting bear.

You listened carefully as you looked under the small gap under the closet to watch a dark shadow pace around your room. You heard them shuffle around as they ransacked the area.

The surrounding air grew thick as the shadow suddenly froze. Within seconds, the closet door flew open to reveal your unknown attacker.

A tall figure wearing a Father Death costume glared down at you from above. The mask was splattered with a dark crimson fluid that trailed down the face like murky tears. He carried a hunting dagger coated in the same substance by his side and held it menacingly.

You couldn’t help but stare at the knife as blood dripped to the floor almost hypnotically. The killer noticed you staring and tilted his head to the side as he looked you over.

Guessing that he was planning on how to kill you, you asked for a last request before your time was over.

“Please,” you tell the killer, unable to get your voice louder than a whisper. “Just make it quick.”

You looked away from the messenger of death as he raised the blade. This was it. Your life was over and you’d never taste another (Favorite Snack) again.

It surprised you when you felt nothing. Not the swing of a knife cutting through your flesh. The pain of having blood filling your throat. Not even the warmth leaving your body as you died.

With stiff movements, you slowly open your eyes, only to see the masked figure offering a gloved hand. Seeing that you were wary, the man twitched his fingers, repeating his silent request.

“Just take it,” he finally spat.

Recognizing that smooth tone to be the same one from the call, you finally grasp his hand. The second you closed your fingers around his covered palm, he hoisted you to your feet. Once you had your feet firmly planted on the ground, you realized the killer hadn’t let go of you.

The stillness in the room reminded you of what had happened only minutes ago. Just recalling the horrible screams made your skin crawl as you looked at the masked man.

“What happened to those men?” You ask meekly.

When he doesn’t answer, you look at the blade in his other hand. The killer followed your gaze and quickly pocketed the knife.

“I have dealt with them,” was the reply you received. Without another word, the man dragged you out of your bedroom.

“Stop!” You shout at him, immediately tugging at your wrist.

This guy slaughtered two burglars in such a way that made your stomach twist and recoil in ways it shouldn’t. There was no way in hell that you would go with this man willingly.

“Stop struggling,” the man spat out, squeezing your arm painfully as he led you to the front door. You passed the bodies as you did so, and it only made your fear increase tenfold.

“Please,” you cried out softly, catching the man’s attention.

He turned around to face you; his covered eyes boring into your own as he waited for you to speak. Your mouth suddenly became dry as you struggled to talk.

“Don’t prolong the inevitable. Just kill me and get it over with. I know that’s what you’re going to do, anyway.”

The man observed you as you eyed his frozen figure as if he were a predator ready to pounce on his prey. And you were the cute fuzzy bunny the big bad wolf wanted for dinner.

“I will not kill you,” the man told you stiffly. “I’m here to... Help.”

"Help?" You repeated. "But why-"

"Don't ask questions!" The man snarled. “Don’t make me regret this.”

Shutting your mouth, you let the man drag you onto your front lawn with no more complaints. It doesn’t stop you from dragging your feet just the tiniest bit. This didn’t go unnoticed by your rescuer.

“Would you stop?!” He practically growled at you. With his free hand, he whipped out his knife he had planned on leaving out of this. “Don’t fight me!”

His words only spurred you to struggle more. This was part of his plan somehow. He would get you to lower your guard, and when you least expected it? He’d rip you apart, just like he did those burglars.

When you refused to listen to him, he let out an angry grunt before bashing the butt of the knife on the back of your head. The sheer force of it sent you tumbling down like JENGA® blocks.

“Son of a-”

It seemed so fuzzy to you. You could register the mask hovering over your face, the steady droning sound in your ears, pale moonlight glimmering on his knife. Then it disappeared out of your line of sight.

If you could think clearly, you would have worried where it was going. Instead, you could only whine softly, slowly blinking as you waited for something to happen.

“They’ll find you here,” you heard him mumble to himself, his voice sounding as if he were underwater. “You’ll be ok.”

What the hell is he talking about?

You stared at the midnight sky behind his head, your mind refusing to focus on anything. The buzzing grew louder, forcing you to shut your eyes. It drowned everything out, leaving you with your rambling thoughts.

For a moment you could think before you felt yourself slip away. The sudden fear overwhelmed you, reminding you of what was happening in the actual world.

Please don’t let me die, not like this.

You didn’t remember much after that.

The next time you opened your eyes, you had been in the hospital, attempting to focus on a doctor. With the help of a nurse, they explained you had been attacked. Luckily, someone had tipped off the authorities who rescued you in time before anything else happened.

The interrogation with the cops was a blur. They spun some story about 3 intruders being breaking into your house, with the third one turning his back on his partners and sparing you from his rage.

One officer offered this as being connected to the other murders, but they had shot it down. While they had found records of someone calling the house before the killings, nothing else had fit the profile. They figured the mutilation only occurred because of an unknown argument between the intruders.

They tried pushing you into remembering what happened, but you couldn’t. All you could focus on was the fear you felt at the moment, sending you in tears each time.

It took you a few days after getting released from the hospital, but you finally convinced your parents to let you return to school. You were just so tired of being afraid; you wanted to return to some normalcy.

It was a rocky start. The second you stepped on school grounds, all eyes were on you. You could hear the whispers as you walked by, everyone trying to figure out how you lived. Keeping your head high, you blocked all of it out, intent on putting that behind you.

Unbeknownst to you, you failed to notice two boys during the newfound attention, the two of them sharing unnerving grins as their eyes followed your every move.

You couldn’t stop the cry that escaped your throat as you shut your locker, coming face to face with a guy you recognized from your history class. “Fuck!” You practically shouted in his face.

“Sorry about that, didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, his Cheshire grin implying he was anything but sorry.

“It's ok,” you replied, shaking it off. No one says anything at that point, leaving him staring while you shuffled nervously.

“You’re uh... You’re Stu, right?” You asked suddenly. “I sit behind you in history. You’re funny.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as he gave a mock bow. “That’s me, at your service!” Stu glanced around the hallway, frowning when he saw teenagers scattered about. “You got anyone to sit with?” He asked.

You shook your head sadly. Your friends didn’t have the same lunch period as you, leaving you munching on your food alone often.

“That won’t do,” Stu complained as he held out his hand. He managed a reassuring smile when you seemed hesitant to take it. “I won’t bite, my friend and I could use the company, anyway. Let’s go.” By the time you had reached the courtyard fountain, Stu practically had you in tears from how hard you were laughing.

You noticed his friend was another guy you recognized class, Billy; you think his name was.

“What’s so funny?” He chuckled, noticing the way you two were struggling to breathe.

“Listen to this,” Stu struggled to say. “The other day, my sister asked me to pass her lipstick, but I accidentally passed her a glue stick. She still isn't talking to me.”

The boy chuckled. “That would be funny, except you don’t have a sister Stu.”

Stu rolled his eyes, gently sitting you down between the two of them. Billy spares you a glance before holding out a bag of chips. When you just stared at it, he rolled his eyes.

“Do you want one or not?” He finally asked. You a shy nod, thanking him when you took a chip.

“So...” You drawled out, tired of the silence that had fallen on the three of you. That, and you were desperate to know why they were so interested in you suddenly. Both of them look surprised when you voiced your concerns.

“After what happened,” Billy began, “you looked like you just needed a friend.”

“Yeah!” Stu added. “You laugh at my jokes, and you’re pretty easy on the eyes too!”

Billy couldn’t help but think about the knife hidden in his backpack as you squirmed in your spot. Stu couldn’t stop thinking about the way you looked in those pants.

It had been Stu’s idea to make you Ghostface’s next target. The two had seen you around the school; no one would suspect them if you were killed. You were barely a blip on their radar, publicly at least.

Billy was the one on the phone with you that night, putting on the facade he had contacted the wrong house. It had been going fine until Stu reported that someone was at the front door. He had been posted at the side, waiting for his partner’s word to break into the window.

The two hadn’t counted on their unexpected company to ruin their plans. You were theirs to kill; they would not let two low-life burglars take the money shot.

Stu was the one who ran inside, killing the men with no mercy to spare. He had been the one to sneak into your bedroom, fully prepared to finish you as planned. Billy warned him you had hidden in the closet, the perfect place for an easy target.

There had been something about the way you looked at Stu, your (Eye Color) eyes practically boring into his own. Then, instead of pleading with him to spare your life, you had asked that he kill you quickly. Not a single one of his victims had done that.

Somewhere in his sick, twisted little mind, he couldn’t find it in him to murder you.

It pissed Billy off when Stu returned, admitting that he didn’t finish the job. He had almost gone back to do it himself when Stu wrestled him back.

“They’re different!” The taller one shouted in his ear, attempting to keep the argument as quiet as he could. They were killers in public. “We already got in some kills; the police will never think it was us! And Y/N will never know either!”

It was pure luck that Billy agreed to his partner’s demands. It was the same luck that later spared your life; when it came out that you couldn’t remember the night of the attack, Billy let you live. To ensure that you wouldn’t squeal to the authorities if the memories ever came back, the boys came to the idea that they needed to insert themselves into your life.

“You guys are nice,” you admitted. “But you wouldn’t hurt me, right? I don’t want to get my feelings hurt.”

It wouldn’t just be your feelings getting hurt! Stu thought maniacally.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, princess,” Billy assured you, his thoughts straying away from his weapon.

For the moment Billy believed his own words. He could pretend that he and his best friend never tried killing you, befriending you on the idea that maybe you were a good person to be friends with. He wouldn’t have to worry about you discovering that they had plotted to kill you for their demented pleasure.

If things went right in this friendship, you would never have to discover their dark secret.

#Stu Macher x Reader #Stu Macher Imagine #Billy Loomis x Reader #Billy Loomis Imagine #Stu Macher x Reader x Billy Loomis #Billy Loomis x Reader x Stu Macher #Ghostface x Reader #Ghostface Imagine #Slasher Imagine #Slasher x Reader #Slashers x Reader #poly!ghostface x reader #poly Ghostface x reader

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rmtndew · 4 years

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Begin Again

Summary: Walter Marshall is a dedicated homicide detective doing his best to balance his work life with being a single father to a teenage girl. Fiona Sparks is a woman doing her best to take care of everyone and everything around her, except for herself. Neither has had the best luck with relationships, but once they meet, they’re willing to give it another shot, this time with each other. (It’s basically just romantic fluff)

Pairing: Marshall and OFC.

Rating: PG

Warnings: Mentions of death, cancer.

A/N - This is a sequel to ‘All I’ve Ever Known’. I started writing this because I needed an escape for some personal stuff going on and my coping mechanism included giving Marshall all the love that man needed, and imagining him being the softest boyfriend to me, then passing those details on to Fiona (my OFC).

I also made a Spotify playlist for this story, if anyone is interested - Begin Again Playlist

Tag list - @hollydaisy23, @alyxkbrl, @onlyhenrys, @omgkatinka, @speakerforthedead0, @gearhead66, @thethirstyarchive, @oddsnendsfanfics, @littlerinoa, @agniavateira, @aaescritora, @justaboringadult, @beenthroughalot, @seriouslygoodlookinggents, @xxxkatxo

If you want to be added/removed from the tag list, let me know!

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7

The last Wednesday in October was a gray, misty, windy day. It was cold, the kind you felt more in your bones than anywhere else, with the sky occasionally spitting out sleet. I spent the entire twenty-minute drive to my job at Waverly Catering clutching the steering wheel so tightly that my hands were cramping by the time I arrived from white-knuckling it the whole way there. Usually, I would get to work early enough to enjoy the silence and finish off my coffee before officially starting my workday. That day, however, I spent the very little extra time I had trying to get my hands to stop hurting, then chugged down my coffee that had cooled dramatically to a gross lukewarm temperature.

Before going in, I checked my phone. I always kept it on silent while I drove. My mom had a tendency to text me, make a dozen spelling mistakes because of auto-correct, then correct them one by one, leaving me with about thirteen separate texts to read. It didn’t use to bother me, I thought it was charming and very distinctly Mom. But when she’d gotten sick at the beginning of the year, every text she sent that I couldn’t read immediately made me panic, worrying that something terrible had happened to her, even when I’d just seen her at home a few minutes before. So for my sanity - and hers - I started putting my phone on silent until I got to work, or wherever else I was going. It was a habit I’d kept even after she’d gone into remission because her cancer may have been gone, but my anxiety over her wasn’t.

That morning when I checked my phone, I saw that I had two texts, but they weren’t from Mom.

Marshall: Good morning, Fi. I hope that I get to see you today. I’ll be chained to my desk with paperwork for a while. This is the first time I’ve not dreaded it. You’re my silver lining.

That was cheesy. I’m sorry. I’m bad at this.

And just like that, all of my stress melted away. The weather didn’t matter, my disappointing coffee didn’t matter, even the cramping in my hands didn’t matter. All that did matter was that Walter Marshall thought of me as his silver lining. Yes it was early days, yes we’d barely known each other a month, yes we’d only gone on two dates, but he made me happier than I’d been in a long time. I felt like I’d been holding my breath for two years, starting when my dad had died in a car crash, followed by my boyfriend Ezra breaking up with me, then losing my job as an interior designer, and capping off with my mom’s cancer diagnoses. Then Walter came along and it was like I could finally breathe again.

Me: Please don’t apologize. You have no idea how much I needed to read that this morning. Feel free to be as cheesy as you want. And I hope I get to see you today, too, even if it means you’re chained to your desk.

Marshall: If I don’t see you for some reason, can I call you tonight? I miss your voice and you make me want to get better at this talking thing.

I could feel myself blushing. Even over the phone he made me feel like a teenager with a crush. I had no idea that anyone could make me feel that way as an adult, but he did every time he texted me.

Me: Of course you can. Even if we do see each other, you can still call, if you want? Practice makes perfect, and all that.

Marshall: I’d like that. Talk to you soon.

I sat back in my seat with a sigh as I looked out at the sleet falling from the gray sky, spattering my windshield, blurring out the image of the trees in the park across from me blowing and bending in the wind.

It was going to be a good day.

“You look...dare I say it? Happy?” Darcy said as I walked into her office.

I smiled. “You may dare to say it because yes, I am quite happy.”

“And what brings you to such an extreme emotion so early on such a disgusting day?”

I went to her desk and sat in the chair opposite her. “Well, for one, I know that you’re about to do me a big favor that I will forever be grateful for.”

“Fiona Sparks asking for a favor? I’ll mark the day in my calendar,” she joked. “What kind of favor do you need?”

“I need a copy of the peanut butter cookie recipe.”

“For what purpose?”

“See, that’s where the happiness part comes into play and you, being one of my dearest friends, would love to see me happy.”

“I would but I’m unsure how a cookie recipe is going to do that.”

“It’s not for me,” I said, smiling wide. “I met this guy -”

“What? Who?” she asked enthusiastically, her eyes wide with excitement.

“His name is Walter Marshall. He’s our detective who never changes his lunch order.”

“You’re dating one of the homicide detectives? You can feel free to thank me later for giving you that order, by the way. But right now I want details: How long have you been dating and why am I just now finding out about it?”

“We’re not technically dating. I met him a few weeks ago for the first time and we went on two dates last week.”

“You haven’t dated anyone in over two years, and then you go on two dates in one week?”

“Well, the first was just a coffee date. Saturday we tried having a proper one.”

“Tried?” she asked, raising her eyebrow.

“He wanted to take me to dinner, so we went to an Italian place, but before we could order, his daughter called. She was supposed to be at a Halloween party, but some of her friends had lied to her, I guess, and it ended up being a basement party with slightly older boys and she felt uncomfortable, so we went and picked her up. Then we all went for pizza together.”

“He has a daughter, which is some heavy baggage to begin with, but you met her on your second date? That’s a lot, Fiona.”

“I know it seems like it, but it’s really not. She’s a good kid. And he’s an amazing father, which, oddly, just makes him more attractive,” I said. “But that’s not the point. The point is that his daughter was, understandably, a little iffy about me being with him when he picked her up until she found out that I’m the one who brings the cookies. She apparently loves them and I told her that I might be able to get her a copy of the recipe and that seemed to pave the way for her not hating me instantly. And she’s thirteen, so that’s a pretty big deal.”

“I have so many questions right now but I can’t sort them all out so I’m going to be annoying you with them all day, just be prepared for that. All I want to know right now is if you want the recipe laminated or not?”

I let out a relieved breath. “Yes, please, if you don’t mind. And thank you so much, Darcy. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“I do know. You never ask for anything, even simple things, so the fact that you’re willing to ask me for a favor means this is a pretty big deal,” she said. “He must be a good guy.”

I nodded. “He really is.”

I arrived at the police station that morning a little before eleven. I’d left the shop early, worried the weather might get bad again and didn’t want to be late for my delivery. Thankfully the sleeting had stopped, allowing me to get there a few minutes early. A few minutes that I used up trying to pull my dolly through the parking lot. The lot had been salted, which was good in that at least it wasn’t icy, but the wheels on my dolly didn’t seem to like the brine mixture. They kept locking up on me. Between that and having to fight against the roaring wind, it took me an embarrassingly long time to reach the station door. Before I could push it open, someone opened it from the inside for me. I looked up, expecting to see Officer Bates. He was the security officer that was posted downstairs and always went through the containers full of lunches that I brought to the homicide unit every week. Instead, I saw Marshall.

“Hello,” he said with a smile.

I immediately felt like giggling. The last time I’d seen him, we’d kissed. And seeing him right then, seeing his beautiful, handsome face, I wanted so badly to kiss him again. Instead, I felt myself grow shy as I blushed so fiercely that my cheeks stung with the new heat that rushed to them.

“Hi,” I said. He pulled the door open all the way, then stepped back, allowing me to walk in. My stomach fluttered as I looked back at him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He closed the door behind me. “May I help you with your cart?”

“No, it’s okay.”

“Would you let me help you take it back to your car when you leave, at least?”

I fought every instinct inside of me that insisted I say no. Darcy was right: I hated asking for even simple things. I never wanted to burden anyone. But since I’d met Marshall, I’d learned that his way of showing interest or affection was to do things for me. But he always asked first, wanting my permission. It challenged me, but in a good way. I didn’t need to always go it alone if I didn’t have to.

“Um, yeah, I’d appreciate that. Thank you,” I said. “The wheels didn’t seem to agree with the salted parking lot. You could probably pull it a lot easier than me.”

Marshall stayed with me as Officer Bates went through the containers I’d brought in. He wasn’t close enough to make anyone passing by question it, but it was close enough that my hand hanging at my side could feel the heat coming from his hand and forearm, that was visible from the blue henley that was pushed up to his elbows in a way that I found incredibly attractive. My fingers itched to seek out his, but I fought it. Keeping them obediently beside me. Once Officer Bates was done and gave me the all clear to take the food up, Walter walked me to the elevator and pressed the button to call it down. Then he held the door back, letting me in first before following me. After the door slid closed, he fell back half a step, putting him right beside me. His hand bumped mine, his fingers snaking through, gently holding mine. I smiled, knowing I wasn’t the only one itching for contact.

I turned without a thought and placed a kiss on his shoulder. Then I paused, a moment of panic rising in me that maybe we weren’t at that level yet. But before I could move or feel too worried, he placed a kiss on the top of my head.

“I keep thinking about Saturday,” he whispered.

“Me, too,” I said. I looked up at him. “It was...pretty amazing.”

He smiled. I could see his sharp canine teeth. They were oddly charming. “Yes, it was.” He laced his fingers with mine more securely, properly holding it. “I know I mentioned calling you tonight, but I hoped that we might have dinner again instead. If you’re not busy?”

“I’m exceptionally not busy tonight.”

“Good.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead before turning his head back to face the elevator door. “I won’t be able to finish all my paperwork today, there’s too much and it keeps multiplying like rabbits, so since I have to do it tomorrow anyway, I’m going to knock off here around five. Could I pick you up after that? Around five-thirty, perhaps?”

I nodded, smiling. “That sounds great.”

The elevator dinged as we reached the homicide unit floor. He gave my hand a couple of gentle squeezes before letting it go as the door slid open. He stepped out, then held the door for me like he had before, letting me pull my cart out. He walked with me almost all the way to the break room before a shorter man with glasses stopped him.

“Lieutenant Marshall, can I speak with you in your office for a moment?” he asked.

“Of course.” Walter touched my shoulder. “Excuse me,” he said to me quietly before leaving for his office.

I continued on and was met by most of the detectives waiting for me. Like usual, they didn’t talk to me much, just thanking me for the food before taking their box and going. I took my time, hoping that by the time that I was done, the man speaking with Walter would be gone before I brought him his lunch. When I was done, I packed up my cart before taking Marshall’s boxed lunch and walked down the hall, finding the door to his office open. I could hear him talking still and wasn’t sure what to do. I’d made a deal with him a few weeks back to always bring his lunch to his office whenever I delivered - the first time was because a uniformed officer looked like he was going to swipe it, after that, it was to thank him for rescuing me from a pushy creep while I was with my ‘friends’. We’d never discussed if I should interrupt while he was working. I chewed my lip, debating what to do for several seconds before deciding to just take a chance and knock on the door frame. The worst case scenario was that I looked like a very dedicated delivery woman making sure that all of my orders reached their proper owners.

“Yep. Come in,” Walter called out in response to my knocking.

I entered his office only far enough to be seen and not a step further. I didn’t know if Marshall wanted people to know about us, so I was prepared to make a quick exit if I needed to. “I have a delivery for Detective Marshall,” I said.

He looked at me and smiled, then waved me in further. “Harper, this is Fiona Sparks. Fiona, this is Commissioner Harper.”

“Hi. It’s nice to meet you, sir,” I said.

“You, too.” He looked at me over the top of his glasses. “You don’t happen to be related to Rodger Sparks, by any chance?”

I felt speechless for a moment. I hadn’t heard anyone other than Mom say Dad’s name in months. Finally, I forced myself to nod. “Yes. He was my dad. How - how did you know?”

“We went to college together. You’re the spitting image of him,” he said. “I was sorry to hear about him passing away. I lost my wife around two years ago as well. A brain aneurysm.” He shook his head. “It doesn’t get any easier.”

“No, it doesn’t,” I agreed.

He looked at me for a moment longer, then back to Marshall, who was standing patiently with his hands clasped behind his back. He looked back at me briefly before taking the folder he was holding and tapped it against Marshall’s shoulder. “You know what? This can wait until tomorrow,” he said. “I’ll bring it by in the morning.” He left Walter and stopped beside me before leaving the office. “I’m very sorry about your father. Rodger was a horrible sport when he lost at cards, but other than that, he was a great guy. And probably the smartest man I ever met.”

I smiled slightly. “He was a horrible sport at cards.”

He smiled back. “The worst.” He gave me a wink. “It was a pleasure seeing you.”

“You, too.”

When he left, he closed the door behind him. I looked at Marshall as he walked towards me. “Did I interrupt something important?” I asked.

“No. He was just asking about a cold case.”

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to come in since he was here. Next time, if you’re talking to someone, would you rather I left your lunch in the break room?”

He stopped in front of me. He was so close. He smelled like coffee and Old Spice. I swallowed thickly, trying to meet his gaze as he looked down at me. He shook his head, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “No. I’d still like you to bring it to me, please. If that’s alright?”

“Yeah, of course. I just don’t want to get in the way of your job.”

“You won’t,” he said. “But I’ve let my job get in the way of other things for too long, so maybe it’s time someone got in the way of it for a bit.”

“You have an important job, though. If you were a boat salesman, I might feel a little differently about disrupting your work.”

His smile grew as he tilted his head at me. “A boat salesman?”

“I mean a job where it wouldn’t really matter all that much if you were distracted every once in a while. If someone doesn’t sell a boat, it’s not that big of a deal. But if you don’t solve a murder case...that has very real repercussions. I wouldn’t want to be a reason for something slipping by in a case.”

He put his hand on my cheek, directing my eyes back to his. “That won’t happen,” he said. “I take my job seriously. That’s never been a problem for me. My problem has always been figuring out how to balance it with the rest of my life, which I never could, and I neglected a lot of people because of it. Especially Faye.” He shook his head. “I’m still not good at it. But I had a case back in the winter that...put Faye’s safety in jeopardy, among other things, and it made me realize that I need to put more of an effort in my life outside of this job. Despite how hard that is for me.” He stroked my cheek with his thumb. “You motivate me to slow down a bit. And that’s a good thing.”

I took my free hand and placed it over his, then turned my face slightly and placed a kiss on the inside of his wrist. “I would be happy to slow down with you,” I whispered.

Marshall had a smile that somehow showed in his eyes more than his mouth, and that’s how he was looking at me right then. “I’d like that.”

A knock on the door startled me. I took a step back, his hand falling from my cheek. He then ran it over his face, almost like he was trying to scrub the irritation of being interrupted off it. Then he folded his arms across his chest before calling out for whoever it was to come in.

The door opened and a man stepped up to the doorway. He was wearing plain clothes like Walter, so I assumed he was a detective, too. He all but ignored me as he and Walter spoke. Half of what they said was in a jargon I didn’t understand, so I just stood there, head down, waiting. After a few minutes, the guy left, only halfway closing the door as he did. When Marshall finally turned back to me, I could see that he was frustrated. I knew he wouldn’t admit it, but me being at his work right then was only going to cause more irritation with every interruption we had.

“As much as I hate it, I should probably get back to the shop. We have a big order going out tomorrow, so there’s quite a lot to do today to prepare for it,” I said. “Plus, I have a date with a very handsome detective tonight that I want to get ready for.”

The frustration on his face seemed to melt away as he looked at me with a smirk. “Is it anyone I know?”

“Possibly. He does work in your unit.”

“Is that so?” he asked. I nodded. “Well, if I see him around, I might have to have a talk with him.”

“And what would you say?”

“I’d tell him that he better be good to you because you deserve to be treated well.”

My stomach fluttered. “You can rest assured that he treats me very well. Better than any man ever has.”

“All those other men were idiots.”

I smiled. “Maybe so.”

He shook his head. “Definitely so.” He reached out and took his lunch from my hand, then turned and placed it on a filing cabinet behind him. “Will you let me help you to your car now?”

I nodded. “Yes, please.”

He put on his coat and followed me to the break room. He pulled my dolly for me, moving it like it was as light as a child’s toy. Even when we made it to the parking lot, he didn’t seem to have any issue with the wheels fighting against him. Then he picked it up and placed it in my trunk with ease, despite how I very often fought to get it back in. I thought about telling him that he was welcome to help me anytime he wanted, but I was afraid it wouldn’t come across as a joke and he would feel obligated to actually help.

“Thank you. You made my morning a lot easier,” I said after I closed the trunk. I looked at him. “I guess I’ll see you around five-thirty?”

He nodded. “I’ll call you when I leave here, but yeah, I should be there by then,” he said. “And I promise it’ll only be the two of us and no cheap pizza.”

“To be honest, I quite liked the pizza. It didn’t taste cheap. And I really, truly didn’t mind Faye joining us, but it'll be nice to have dinner with just you tonight,” I said. “But that reminds me - I put a copy of our cookie recipe for Faye in your lunch box.”

He smiled. “Thank you. She’ll be very excited about that.”

“You’re welcome. And let her know if she has any issues with it, she can call or text me.”

The crease between his eyebrows appeared as he looked at me thoughtfully. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I’ve made them enough times over the last year and a half to make every mistake you can with them. If she has a problem, I can probably diagnose it over the phone.”

“You don’t mind her having your number?”

I felt my facial expressions mirroring his, but from confusion. “Of course I don’t mind. As long as you’re okay with it,” I said. “Unless you think your ex-wife would mind? I don’t want to step on her toes or anything.”

He shook his head. “I don’t think Angie would mind for that purpose, and I don’t have a problem with it. But I don’t want you to feel obligated.”

“I don’t but I’ll leave it up to you. If you’d feel more comfortable being the middleman you can always call me for her.” I gave him a big smile. “And I can help you practice the whole talking thing. Then it’s a two birds with one stone kind of deal.”

He smiled back, nodding his head. “And if she doesn’t need help?”

“You can still call.” I shrugged. “As far as I’m concerned, you don’t have to have a reason for calling. If I’m not at work, I’m usually pretty free. I may be cooking, or watching ‘The Golden Girls’ with Mom, but that’s about it,” I said. “I’m afraid you’re courting quite a socially boring person.”

He laughed. “I’m not sure if you’ve caught on, but I’m not exactly a sociable person, either,” he said. “So perhaps we make a good fit for each other.”

“Perhaps so,” I agreed. “We can be selectively social together.”

“Sounds good to me.”

I let out a sigh and watched my breath turn to steam in front of me. “I better let you get back to your paperwork and I need to go help Darcy at the store. We have over fifty loaves of bread to bake before the end of the day, so depending on when I get home, you may have to deal with your date smelling like freshly baked bread.”

He squinted slightly. “I’m not really opposed to that,” he joked with a smile that showed off the sharp ends of his canine teeth.

I laughed. “Good to know.”

He gave me a short hug, kissing my cheek as he pulled back. “I’ll see you this evening.”

“I’m looking forward to it.

#Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill fan fiction #Walter Marshall #Walter Marshall fan fiction #Walter Marshall/OFC #Night Hunter #Night Hunter fan fiction #Nomis #Nomis fan fiction #Henry Cavill fanfiction #Henry Cavill fanfic #detective walter marshall #Begin Again

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