#horror and frustration feel like a natural pairing. Mother! was pretty bad but the frustration tied to horror was SO good

[spiritofjustice]

think i might have said something to this degree before but it's a shame Beau dies before he ever gets to meet/interact with Mimi. i think they could have kind of an endearing friendship, barring Beau being. yknow. her husband's affair partner KRKFN but ignoring that, she'd probably find him to be very funny and sweet, at least in small doses. i think they'd click to the point Vincent would feel weird about it lol.

i once thought abt an AU where Beau is alive long enough to go to New York n meet Mimi and i think that'd be fun horror all on its own, though. meeting someone that she initially really likes, then getting weird vibes about his relationship to her husband, and then the slow dawning realization of "something is deeply wrong with this man and i'm scared' while Vincent seems to be completely blind to the idea that anything is wrong and there's very little she can do. tis a fun concept. too bad i can't use it

[chasingpj]

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬

pairing: percy jackson x child of zeus!reader and jason x older sibling!reader

requested: yes!

warning: two curse words, mentions of stealing, death of a parent, and i believe that is it!

category: headcanons, fluff

a/n: i may have gotten too carried away but... i had a lot of fun writing this haha. i hope you guys like it!

pre-relationship

you and percy invented the phrase power couple but coming together took a while

your relationship dynamic would be very similar to thalia and percy's at first

you're both natural-born leaders, so you guys butt heads very often

you're more calculated and organized when it comes to things and percy being impulsive really annoyed you

he's lucky that even though he is impulsive, things somehow always work out in the end

if it wasn't for annabeth urging you guys to get along, you probably would still be at each other's neck

how did she get you guys to get along, you may ask?

she locked you guys in a storage closet :)

and said figure it out ♡

this happened after a friendly sparring practice turned into a full-on fight with your powers

annabeth insisted she wouldn't let you guys out until you declared to be friends

at the time, you were like, percy will never be my friend, ew

percy was just as annoyed

after a good hour of bickering and resisting your urge to choke him out

you guys found that you had a lot in common, actually?

huh, who would have known?

apparently annabeth

you guys talked about your life outside of camp and bonded over the worst teachers you've ever had

turns out, percy wasn't that bad

you'd never admit that out loud though

after a while, you started to feel things

were percy's eyes always that pretty?

yes, they've always been

oh look, those freckles over his nose? adorable

did you just call Percy adorable? yeah, you did… gross

you tried to deny your attraction to him

you were pretty sure this was a cruel joke from aphrodite (it was… more for your dad's than for you guys, though)

then you started noticing changes in his behavior too

now you guys were sharing blankets at the campfire when it got chilly

he even shared the blue cookies his mother sent him too

that's when you should have known he was down bad

both of you have awful sleep schedules

you hated sleeping in cabin 1

it was clearly built not to be slept in, and every few days, you found yourself having late-night conversations with percy at the docks

once the harpies snuck up on you and percy told you to get in the water with him

you didn't know how to swim, and you were kinda horrified of open water

you wanted to refuse, but you were cornered on the docks

you either jumped or got eaten

the last thing you said was that you couldn't swim before percy didn't give you a choice

he grabbed your hand and jumped in

his arm wrapped around your waist to keep you in the air bubble he had made around you guys

at first, you didn't focus on it

too busy trying to defend yourself from his teasing

he continued to mimic the way you screamed when he dragged you into the water

"wow, you can fly, but you can't swim?"

you rolled your eyes, trying to defend yourself

you called him annoying, and he playfully threatened to let you drown

you guys joked and laughed, staying a little too long underwater

after your laughter ceased, you found yourself looking into his eyes

the both of you became quiet

suddenly his arm around your waist, the way your chests were pressed against each other made you horribly flustered

and you're not sure what you were thinking

actually, you weren't thinking at all, but you leaned in and kissed him

like really kissed him, it was a proper kiss

ahhhhhh!!!

probably would have kissed him longer if the water nymphs didn't giggle, exposing their little audience

once you pulled away, they scattered, ready to gossip about what they saw

the news made it to atlantis pretty fast

after the kiss, things were so awkward

you avoided him for days, and he avoided you

annabeth felt the tension, and she was upset because just when you guys were getting along, suddenly, you guys were avoiding each other

the battle of manhattan was approaching soon and the last thing anyone wanted was for you guys not to get along

you both avoided annabeth’s questions, not ready to confess what you guys had shared

eventually, annabeth kept pressing you about what happened

you blew up and admitted that you made out with percy in the water

annabeth was speechless before she burst into laughter

you didn't understand why it was so funny at first

but then you did

the both of you laughed until annabeth said that she wasn't surprised at all

the battle of manhattan comes around, and in the urgency of the moment, you guys were able to rise to the occasion

your movements, thoughts, commands were completely coordinated

you guys were an extension of each other, kicking ass

at the end, you were both offered immortality

the offer took you back to a conversation you guys had where you spoke about how you'd never want to be immortal

the both of you exchanged looks before you simultaneously denied the gift

zeus was offended x2

after that, you guys returned to camp half-blood

the both of you were upset at the campers you've lost and trying to recover from the adrenaline of battle

you and annabeth sang percy happy birthday and the three of you sat together and ate blue cake in a comfortable silence

weeks passed, and one day, you're met with annabeth barging into your cabin asking when you and percy are going to talk about your kiss

it was the last day of camp, and she was insistent on you talking to him

you reluctantly agreed, mainly because annabeth threatened to lock you in a storage closet again

you guys sat on the dunes in silence for a while

the both of you wanted to confess, but neither knew how to do it

after some silence, the both of you spoke at the same time

you stuttered over each other and then began bickering back and forth on who should go first until you blurted out that you like him

you cringed and looked away as percy froze in his spot

it was silent for a moment before percy whispered, "I like you too."

cue your second kiss

your teeth slightly bumping with his since the both of you were smiling so much

and you swore you heard thunder in the distance even though there were clear skies

relationship

you lived in a foster home on the other side of manhattan, so you guys saw each other every weekend

you guys went on movie dates, long drives, and you would sleep over pretty often

for the spooky season, you went to haunted houses and carved pumpkins

you watched horror movies together, teasing each other when one of you jumped and tried to cover your face during the scary parts

you went to his place for Thanksgiving and you arrived early so that the both of you could help sally cook all day

you and percy put blue food coloring on the mashed potatoes

for the first time ever, you felt like you were apart of a family since sally had welcomed you with open arms

everything was going great but then december came around

the last time you saw percy, you guys were christmas shopping for his mom

your last day of school ended a few days after his, so you planned to meet at CHB

but when you got there, you found out he never arrived

you called his home from the payphone in the big house

sally was relieved to hear from you, a part of her hoping he was with you

but you both found out that neither of you had heard from him in a few days

meeting jason

you and annabeth tried everything to find him

then you got a dream from hera that the answer to where percy is was with the guy with one shoe

you arrive and you find this blonde kid and not your boyfriend; you were kinda actually very annoyed

but this blonde kid felt familiar

you weren't sure what it was, and then you heard his name — Jason Grace

surely, it was a coincidence that he shared the name of your missing brother

you were too young to remember his disappearance

the only remembrance you had of him was a picture of the both of you as toddlers sitting happily beside thalia

you always wondered who was the little boy in the photo and it wasn't until a few years ago did thalia tell you about him disappearing

you were a bit wary of him at first, especially since he had no memory of where he came from

it wasn't until he conjured lightning with his sword, did you have no doubt in your mind that he was your brother

the first night you guys spent in the cabin together was awkward

you couldn't really catch up since he didn't remember anything, so you told him what thalia told you about him and your mother

you didn't reveal him everything, not wanting to overwhelm him and you had decided to call it a night before you went into detail

you explained the rest of the story after he came back from his quest

you tried to ask him questions hoping he’d remember more, but his memory wasn't coming back fast enough

both you and jason were growing frustrated, so one day you iris messaged thalia

the both of you came up with an idea to jog jason's memory by showing him things that he enjoyed as a toddler

jason was pretty sure it wouldn't work, but he went along with it

thalia recalled that the two of you really liked watching the flintstones as babies

so you and jason sat down and watched every season available on dvd

and well, it didn't work...

thalia also mentioned you both really liked sweets, so you tried to jog his memory with candy bars

you had to convince jason to sneak out of camp with you

he thought it was such a bad idea, but you reassured him he'd be fine

after reluctantly agreeing, jason and you escaped at night to buy actually steal candy bars from the closest gas station

jason panicked as he watches you shove candy bars in your sweatshirt

"we're gonna get caught"

"if you keep looking that scared, we just might," you replied a little too calmly

he tried to relax, but he just looked like he saw a ghost the entire time

on your way back, you may have electrocuted a harpy and fought a couple cyclops and all the fighting and running made you lose one of your snicker bars

you were upset, to say the least

unfortunately, after stuffing him with chocolate, that didn't work either

then you tried to show him the few pictures you were able to salvage before you were taken to the foster home after the death of your mother

jason sat in front of you on the floor as you pulled the box from under your bed

you smiled, finding an old picture of your mother, and you put it up to his face, taking in the similarities between the two

"yep, you look just like her," you confirmed as you smiled sadly

even though jason didn't know her, he felt a sense of pride when you had told him so

every time a memory would come back, you were the first person he told

when his memories with lupa came back, you were shook

and then you teased him, saying that he's basically a dog

once you threw a twig and told him to go fetch

he didn't find it as funny as you and leo did, but oh well

you also asked if he howled at full moons, and you were met with the straightest face you've ever seen on jason

it was the funniest thing ever to you

every week you guys kicked ass in capture the flag

you guys were more alike than you thought

it was guaranteed that whichever team you were on would win

in the months when the argo II was being built, you had a lot of times to bond with jason

your dynamic was really fun as you were a bit more rebellious and silly while he was a lot more responsible and mature

after the argo II departed

you reuniting with percy was something you thought about for months

you were so excited when the argo II was officially ready to fly over to camp jupiter

your pulse was thumping in your ears when you saw percy in the crowd

after months of worrying about where he was and if he was still alive, it was almost surreal to see him right in front of you

you lunged into him so hard, he stumbled back as you kissed him

just like your second kiss, the both of you were smiling so hard your teeth kept bumping against his

"i love your new look," you commented on his toga, and he snorted,

"yeah?"

"oh yeah, it's kinda hot."

the both of you laughed, content to be in each other's arms again

after getting on the argo II, you were the reason jason and percy formed some sort of a friendship

you were the mutual ground for the both of them since they had a soft spot for you

the tension between the two was something you couldn't disregard and you hated how weird it was at the beginning

if they butted heads, you tried to mend the problem

you understood both of them well enough to understand where they came from

at some point, you and annabeth thought it would be funny to lock them in a storage closet

so you did

they kept complaining to be let out but eventually, they gave in

little did they know that you were standing near the door and listening to their conversation

jason told him how you helped him a lot and all the ridiculous things you made him do

and percy shared stories of you from quests and at camp

the both of them laughed and bonded over having someone as amazing as you in their lives

"y/n is pretty great," percy smiles

"yeah, they are," jason agreed

needless to say, your heart warmed at the praise from your two favorite boys

masterlists taglist: @xxyrr @nct127bee @mochabreezeee @minamisulemisa @yanfeisluvr @Slytherclaw-kitten @-thatgirloverthere- @passionswift @nanskidoodle @idk-bye-no @ilikefluffygingercats @all-hailreyna @autmngirlworld @Sunkissedskin1328 @Hermioneswifeee @quteez @hajigayy @aleksanderwh0r3 @drayshadow @tonyedwardstarkk @londoncherry @ashookykooky @lotusnegra666 @loverstyless

[love-takes-work]

When someone toxic needs a friend

I just wanna add a little personal reflection to the discussion of Spinel’s treatment in Steven Universe: The Movie.

A few signposts so you know where I’m starting with this:

A criticism I’ve seen: 

Steven was not particularly warm to Spinel. He did not hug her. He did not offer to be her friend. He spoke carelessly and triggered her toward becoming murderous again. He only cared about what she could do for him.

A perspective I’ve seen: 

LOTS of people with borderline personality disorder or strong feelings about abandonment personally relate to Spinel and are critical of Steven from this perspective.

Rebecca Sugar’s commentary on Spinel:

The thing about Spinel is that she’s a really toxic person. 

She’s so toxic that she’s literally trying to poison people. 

In my interactions with friends who have had a history difficult enough to make it hard for them to trust other people and sometimes even actively want to hurt others, it’s just a very difficult situation to navigate. In the case of Spinel and all of these characters, that’s extremely exaggerated because cartoons have the ability to be extreme exaggerations. I wanted to explore what it’s like when you’re trying to help someone who really doesn’t want to help themselves, who wants to embody the negative feelings that they have about themselves. I think that’s something really real. I hadn’t seen that in a cartoon before. 

Spinel, unlike many other characters, actually has the goal of hurting people, which is new territory for the show. She really wants to hurt Steven, and there’s a reason that she does—because she’s in so much pain. I just wanted to explore all the dimensions of that.

I also think Steven has his way of trying to handle and dissolve conflict. It’s not necessarily a good way for him to handle this situation. It really leaves him in a difficult state, and I think what I wanted to show in the way that they interact is that at a certain point, when you can’t help someone, you have to be able to protect yourself. 

Ultimately, he can’t really convince her to change. It’s something she’ll have to want for herself. But what he can do is protect himself from her, making it impossible for her to hurt him. 

It’s sort of up to you if you would like to love her. If you watch this movie and she, you know, frustrates you, that is totally fair. I want that to be a big part of who she is.

[From the AV Club interview]

So here are a few things I want to shed light on.

It’s very interesting that Rebecca intended Spinel to be read as “a toxic person” because so many fans fell in love with her, said they’d be her friend, hated intensely on Pink Diamond because of what she did to abandon the poor Gem, and sympathized with her directly. But Rebecca was looking at Spinel from Steven’s perspective. And that’s also what I did.

I’ve been Steven. I have VERY much been Steven.

When you meet someone who was done dirty, when you recognize the horror they’ve been through, when you see how much pain they are in and agree they have the right to be angry, it’s natural for empathetic people to offer themselves as comfort.

But when you’re Steven, you also know it isn’t YOUR fault either. Before you have the ability and experience to set boundaries, you can get sucked into other people’s stormy waters and think you’re helping if you drown in solidarity with them. What’s really important to preserving yourself is learning that you can stand on the boat and toss a life preserver. That it doesn’t ACTUALLY HELP to jump in the water and sink with them.

Some folks are angry that Steven didn’t jump right into sacrifice himself on the altar of friendship in the service of an intense, literally murderous stranger who tried to poison him and his planet and lash out at his friends, robbing them of their rich pasts and their relationships because all of it hurt HER so much. It is SO easy to understand WHY SPINEL WAS ANGRY. But nothing she was doing to Steven, his friends, or the Earth was going to fix her problems, and furthermore, she FULLY UNDERSTOOD that it was NOT THE FAULT of any of the people she took her anger out on. It was irrational, yes, and that is part of her dysfunction. But also, in these situations, what helps explain it still does not excuse it.

Some have railed at Steven saying he somehow forgave genocidal tyrants like the Diamonds but couldn’t be friends with a damaged Gem like Spinel who just wanted friendship. The big difference there is that Steven got involved with the Diamonds when both parties believed he was a different person. The Diamonds believed he was the lost Pink Diamond, and Steven has also spent much of his superhero life believing he WAS his mother and was therefore obligated to accept punishment for her crimes or to clean up the messes she made. Now that he knows he is not her and that she did some pretty horrible stuff, he also wants the right to stop feeling responsible for every person Pink hurt in the entire region of space.

Steven gave Spinel basically compassionate treatment. He did not abuse her. He did not insult her. He occasionally coddled her when it seemed important (and though some said he was too businesslike while he pursued his mission, he was literally looking at the world ending within two days if he didn’t solve the problem). And most importantly . . . .

He let her leave the garden.

Spinel stayed in the garden all those millennia because Pink Diamond told her they were playing a game. All that time, she had visions of Pink returning so she could see her smile, hear her laughter. We see a sequence where she tried to follow Pink out of the garden and Pink manipulated her into staying willingly. We watch those feet leaving and one pair of feet staying behind. We see Pink disappear.

When Steven goes to leave the garden, Spinel follows in the same manner. Some have criticized him for letting go of her hands.

But he invited her out of the garden. He didn’t say stay. He said come with me.

As he sang about her deserving someone better, he was sincere. But he did not say the person to make her feel found should be him. He did not want to take on another person with thousands of years of baggage who would require a specific brand of attention and so much tenderness to avoid snapping. He did not allow her to be held by the hand and led out. He recognized that she needed encouragement to leave this place because of what was done to her, but he wanted her to take the steps.

Compassionate people are crushed all the time under the weight of needy people who make it hurt to love. People like Steven can acknowledge that Spinel deserves love and deserves to be happy without accepting that it’s heartless to stop short of personally doing it. Especially when you literally have to take physical, mental, and emotional damage as a general consequence of offering support and counseling. It is sometimes just beyond what you can do.

I made the mistake several times of getting very close to someone who treated me poorly while taking comfort in my presence. I cared that they were hurt and I didn’t know how to say “You deserve love” without stepping in and loving them. In EVERY case I was involved with, the person went from initially grateful to “why don’t you help me more?” shockingly quickly, and two of them deliberately tried to create situations where I would be trapped with them and isolated from others. 

I could get very personal here but I don’t think I need to. Those of us who relate all too well to Steven wanting to help others will have been in this situation. Your heart hurts for people who live with pain that has never touched you, but when they’ve made it clear with one of their first actions that they feel satisfied at the idea of ruining your life, trusting them could mean the end of you. Especially if they demand that you risk life and limb to fix and save them before you’d dare to call it love, and especially if they want to be fixed without feeling responsible for initiating any of it. Some people mistake suffering for working hard toward a goal. Both can hurt but only one is constructive. If I’m expected to spend extensive resources on someone, I need some partnership in the goal, and I can’t accomplish that with someone whose wish for companionship manifests as “I want you to feel as bad as I do, and will take steps to hurt you so I have someone to cry with.”

Steven risked his actual life while he didn’t have powers so he could go talk to Spinel, and he wouldn’t fight her when she wanted to fight. He protected himself while she spent her anger. He STILL put himself in the line of fire far more than a less compassionate person would. He took time and tenderness to listen to her story and sympathize with her, tell her she deserved better, bear witness to what she’d become after being treated like a discarded plaything, and bring her hope with promises of a new future and a way to feel found.

Sadly, Spinel flipped back to being murderous at the first sign that Steven might be about to prioritize someone other than her, reframing his reasonable needs as if he was planning to abandon her, isolate her, discard her. This was a trauma reaction, yes, and she isn’t entirely to blame for being upset because she was worried she was just being used and none of her actions were logically thought through. 

But does someone ever “deserve” the friendship of a specific person who can’t feel warm toward them because of their OWN bad experiences? 

No! 

Steven has a big heart but he has his very own huge storehouse of trauma, and being physically attacked with his family and planet put in danger over the actions of his mother is at the top of the list. Instead of assuming that the person who has trauma the loudest is the most hurt, can’t we just acknowledge that Spinel’s and Steven’s respective traumas make them NOT the best match for friendship?

The ending of the movie, with Spinel going off with the Diamonds, might seem a little disturbing with all the codepencency floating around there, but if you want to talk about compassion, I think this is a good place for Spinel to start. 

She just wanted to make Pink Diamond laugh and enjoy her life. She longed to do that for so long and then it all ended when she found out she would NEVER GET TO DO IT. I think bonding with the other Diamonds and having a familiar, safe place to experience the kind of love she’s used to will be a good FOUNDATION for building herself into a person beyond that. For now, she needs comfort. I hope they treat her well.

[elijahs-wife]

Why Me?

Requested by @hellotvshowtrash - Hi Tehani ❤️ could you do a fic with the prompt “if I could change one thing, it would be proposing to the wrong man/woman.” ? OR A FLUFFY ONE “falling in love with you was instinctive. Like I was born to do it.” Thank you! 💓

A/N: TYSM ASHLEE!! 💗 I FINALLY FINISHED IT! I've been crazy busy these days which is why it took so long. Like/reblog if you enjoyed reading please <3

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x Female! Reader

Word Count: 3220+

Warnings: none, really.

(not my gif!)

Writing a thesis should not be this hard, Y/N fumed inwardly, her fingernails mindlessly tapping at her laptop keyboard without actually typing anything. It was almost 1 am, since she had decided to stay up a little later than usual to try and get started on her paper, but she had no luck yet – all she had done so far was reorganise her desk. Her phone starting ringing from the nightstand where she had left it in the hopes that it would allow her to work better, so she stood up to go and answer it, wondering who it could be but grateful for an excuse to take a break from her attempts at working. Despite her frustration at the disaster on top of her desk, she smiled reflexively when she saw the name flashing on her screen, and swiftly swiped her finger across it. "Hey", she answered, her agitation clear.

"Hello, my love", Elijah said. The smooth sound of his voice would never fail to calm her down – already her breathing had deepened and slowed, and her shoulders relaxed. "Thesis still giving you trouble?"

"Like you wouldn't believe", she grumbled, plopping herself down on the edge of the bed. "I've been at this for so long now, but I just can't make any progress, it's like my brain has totally shut down." She heaved a weary sigh, falling back onto the soft duvet.

Her heart fluttered when she heard his quiet laugh. "Perhaps the issue is that you're putting far too much pressure on yourself. Maybe you simply need... a distraction. To take your mind off of all this work for a little while", he suggested, trying to sound innocent, but she could practically hear him smirk through the phone.

"Oh yeah?" she said, eyebrows raised but laughing nonetheless, "and what kind of distraction would you advise?"

"I was thinking dinner with me tomorrow night, followed by some music. Camille tells me there will be a band performing at Rousseau's and they're supposed to be quite talented. So, what do you say?"

"Food, alcohol and music? Like I'd say no to that", Y/N said, giggling. "I would love to go out with you, Elijah."

"I'll pick you up at 7.30 then", he replied, sounding pleased. "Goodnight, Y/N. I love you."

She almost jumped up and down in excitement but then reminded herself she was no longer a teenager. "I love you too. Goodnight", she said, disconnecting the call. She clutched her phone to her heart, a smile lighting up her entire face. Dating an Original vampire was challenging, and it was moments like these that she really cherished – moments where they didn't have to be anything more than a regular couple. Deciding to abandon her paper for the night, she rolled over her bed to reach the light switch and tucked herself in, before quickly floating into a good night's sleep.

- The next day -

Elijah pulled out his phone when he felt it ping and vibrate inside his pocket. The corner of his mouth curved upwards slightly when he saw that it was a message from Y/N. Hey! Got off work early. Can't wait for our date tonight! Xx

Me too, he typed in response. See you at 7.30 sharp. She sent a kissy face emoji back at him which only made his smile widen. Through all of the horrors that his own mother, Esther, had inflicted on him and his siblings the past few months, Y/N had remained his anchor to humanity, to the world. He often felt guilty that she was constantly pulled into whatever crisis he and his family were hit with, but she was strong – she knew how to handle herself and how to handle him too. But for one night, he was eager to show her that they could still have some sense of normalcy, that they could act the way that ordinary people do. She deserved that much.

"Well well, isn't this quite the miracle. Elijah smiles! Someone ought to alert the press", he heard behind him. He spun around and glared at his little brother who was standing in the doorway.

"What is it that has the noble stag running wild? Let me guess, the lovely Y/N", he said with a devious smirk.

"Not that it's any of your business, Niklaus, but yes. Y/N and I will be going out tonight, so kindly refrain from calling me. I will not take kindly to any intrusions that are not of dire nature." he quipped.

Klaus raised his hands in mock surrender. "Don't worry, brother. I'll hold the fort down here. Best of luck with your uh, date", he said as he walked away, his tone more sarcastic than genuine in typical Klaus fashion.

----

It was just past five o'clock when Y/N returned to her apartment after work, since she had been let off early. She was already in high spirits after a productive day at the office, and psyched for her date. She decided to start getting herself ready, since she wanted to look her best – not that Elijah really minded if she wasn't always one hundred percent dolled up, but sometimes Y/N could hardly believe that someone like him could love someone as ordinary as her. Despite the hardships that came with being involved in his world, he was the most extraordinary man she had ever known, and it wasn't very hard to feel unworthy. So the effort she would be putting into making herself look good was more for herself than for him.

After a long, hot shower and blow drying her hair to near perfection (she could never get the back quite right), there was just under a half hour till Elijah would arrive. All she had left to do was put on her dress and tackle the task of putting on some makeup. Y/N had very minimal makeup skills, so she kept the makeup minimal too – a coating of mascara, a light wash of eyeshadow and a little lip gloss, and she was done. I don't look too bad at all, she thought as she watched herself in the mirror, she was actually quite pleased with her work. She slid her feet into a strappy pair of heels and slipped on a satiny little black dress, perfect for date night, and she reached around to zip it from the back. She was struggling to pull it all the way up when she heard a sudden knock on the door. She glanced at the clock on the wall, which showed that it was already 7.30. Right on time as always, she thought with a smile, as she walked to her front door and opened it. Her heart beat twice as fast at the sight of him – as usual, he was perfection, standing there in a sleek black suit holding a large bouquet of flowers. He started to open his mouth as if to say something but nothing came out – he simply dragged his eyes over her, drinking her in. "Hey", she said, feeling almost shy after his reaction to her, "come in."

He walked through the doorway and closed it behind him. "Good evening. For you", he said, offering her the flowers – her favourite, white lilies. "Oh, Elijah, you really didn't have to", she said, their heady, sweet fragrance already saturating the air. "I know. I wanted to", he said with a small smile. She placed one hand on his shoulder and reached up to press a long, soft kiss on his lips that left both of them slightly giddy when she pulled away. He would never get enough of her kisses, her warm lips against his, it was intoxicating.

She moved to the sink to fill up a small vase with water for the lilies, and remembered she was still technically undressed. "Oh hey, could you zip me up?" she asked, leaning over the sink as she arranged the flowers into the glass. "Ugh, do I have to?" he said jokingly as he walked over to her. "Personally, I think this dress looks better like this." He ran a finger slowly down her exposed back, and leaned into the crook of her neck, about to kiss her skin.

"Yes, you have to!" she said, reaching to playfully hit his arm as she laughed. "Or we'll be late, Elijah." He mock-scowled at her. "Fine", he said, pulling up the zip of her dress carefully. "You look exquisite as always, Y/N. Come, let's go." Gentleman that he was, he offered her a hand, which she gladly took, and led her out of her flat.

----

Rousseau's was only seven minutes away from the restaurant, so they decided to walk there after their meal. Elijah did not let go of her hand the entire journey, a small gesture but it meant a lot to Y/N. Dinner had gone well for the most part, except for the annoyingly flirty waitress. Y/N had noticed her watching them from the corner of the room more than once, and no one could have missed the sultry eyes she made at him whenever she brought something to their table, or the multiple "accidental" brushes against his arm. She tried to be unaffected but she couldn't lie to herself, it pissed her off to no end. Elijah was an extremely attractive man, and it wasn't unnatural for him to get attention from other women, but did they really have to make it so obvious, even in her presence? It had been so long since they had had a proper date, though, that she decided to just ignore it instead of ruining the mood by bringing it up.

They were almost there, and could already hear the music coming from what looked to be a very crowded bar. The place radiated restless energy – there were people all over, some drinking, some appreciating the music, some already drunk and dancing in an alcohol-fueled frenzy. Elijah kept his hand on the small of her back as he led her inside. "What would you like to drink?" he asked, leaning into her ear so that she would hear him over the music. "Uh, scotch on the rocks would be great", she replied. She had never been a scotch girl, but whiskey was pretty much the only thing besides blood that the Mikaelsons kept a steady stock of at their home, so she had grown to like it. Elijah ordered the drinks while Y/N stood at the edge of the crowd of dancing people, bobbing her head and vibing to the jazz. "Are you enjoying it?" he asked her, handing her the cold glass of whiskey. "I really am", she replied, beaming up at him. She took a sip of her drink, welcoming the slight burn in her throat and the warmth spreading through her body. For a while, both of them simply stood there and enjoyed the music, with his arm around her waist and her hand holding his. "Will you hold my drink for a minute?" she asked him, "I really need to use the restroom."

"Certainly", he replied, taking her glass from her and watching as she walked away from him. What a view, he thought, sipping his whiskey with a smile.

Y/N entered a bathroom stall and locked it behind her. She was just about to open the door after relieving herself, when she heard two women come in, talking very loudly. "Oh my God, did you see that guy at the bar?" one of them said. "Wait, which one?" the other replied. "The one in the black suit, obviously", the first woman said. Black suit? They're talking about Elijah! Y/N thought. No one else in the entire establishment was wearing a suit. She stayed behind the door, waiting for the rest of the conversation.

"Oh God, yes, he is delicious", she heard the other one say over the sound of water running. "I just wanted to rip that suit right off." Y/N glowered, suddenly filled with the desire to punch something, or better yet, someone.

"Ugh, I know right? He's here with someone though, I saw them together."

"Ooh, and what did she look like?"

"Honest opinion? She's kind of ugly. I know that's not PC and we can't say that anymore but come on. She was so plain. I wonder what he sees in her."

"He's probably just stringing her along", the other woman replied, laughing. Y/N heard the clacking of heels on tile as they left the bathroom. She opened the stall door and walked to the mirror slowly, taking a long look at herself under the unflattering fluorescent lights. Suddenly her makeup looked overdone, her hair was matted and her dress too tight in the wrong places. She hadn't thought about herself as ugly in a long time, but the familiar feelings of unworthiness took no time at all to come rushing back. Tears started to prick at her eyes, and she blinked frantically to try and stop them from falling. Strange how someone you don't even know can make you feel so crappy, she thought. She couldn't help feeling her heart sinking in her chest. Wonder what he sees in her. Since the start of their relationship, Y/N had always thought about this in the back of her mind but never voiced it out loud, too enamoured by him to be able to handle his answer, or lack of one. She dabbed a tissue at her eyes so as to not ruin her mascara, before she left the restroom feeling more deflated than ever.

She walked over to Elijah, who appeared to be having quite a good time, moving his body subtly to the music. He was already on his second or third drink, and the band was playing a very lively song. A wild grin broke out on his face when he spotted Y/N on her way to him, and he took her hand and kissed it. "Would you like to dance?" he asked her, clearly a little buzzed – he never danced if he could help it. "Actually, I think I'd like to go home now, if that's okay", she replied, in no mood to dance right now. His smile faded when he saw the dejected expression on her face, but he didn't question it. "I'll get us a cab", he said, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and turning to leave the bar.

The cab ride to Y/N's building was short and totally silent. Elijah followed her without a word to her apartment and through the door. "Thanks for bringing me home", she said, setting her purse down on her sofa, not really making eye contact with him. "And now that you're home, perhaps you won't mind telling me what's wrong", he said, leaning against the closed door with his arms crossed. "It's nothing", she deflected, mindlessly shuffling through a pile of mail on a side table. "Certainly doesn't seem like nothing", he said quietly, moving closer to her. "What's on your mind, baby?" He lightly touched his hand to her arm, a gentle request to talk to him.

She turned around and stared at him, unable to stop her emotions from bubbling over. "How is it that you're even in love with me?" she asked. She didn't intend to sound accusatory but Elijah couldn't help but feel reproved. "Are you questioning my feelings for you? What brought this on?" he asked, his brows furrowed together. "I'm just asking", she said, sighing, "why did you choose me?"

"Why did you choose me?" he shot back, looking confounded. She stopped and gaped at him. "Hello? Have you seen yourself?" she asked, laughing humourlessly and gesturing wildly at him. "You could be a freaking Dior model, Elijah. You could have anyone you wanted to like that", she said, snapping her fingers. "So why pick me, some unremarkable, average human girl?" Her voice trailed away, and she looked down at her hands, almost afraid to hear his answer.

He took a step closer to her, his expression softening. He hated it when she doubted herself. "Y/N. I chose you because you are beautiful, both on the inside and the outside. You were strong enough to handle me when I was experiencing one of the darkest times of my life. I was... lost, in my own past sins. And it was you that pulled me back. Because you are kind and loving, and unfailingly good. And I need that goodness in my life, Y/N. I need you. My love, you are the most remarkable woman I've ever met." He caressed her face tenderly, and pushed a loose tendril of hair behind her ear. "Falling in love with you was instinctive. Like I was born to do it. In a thousand years, I have never felt for anyone the way that I do for you." Her cheeks flushed beneath his fingertips, and tears welled up in her eyes. He took her face gently in his hands and bridged the distance between them with a kiss, their lips moving perfectly in sync, hands pulling each other closer. His breath was sweet and whiskey-tinged, and she hungrily let it fill her lungs. She was so absorbed in him that she almost forgot to breathe – she was panting when they finally pulled their lips apart, their foreheads still touching.

"So, now will you take up my offer to dance?" he asked her, smiling wistfully at her. She looked up at him, pleasantly surprised. "I would love to dance with you, but there's no music." He shot her a cheeky grin as he pulled out his phone and opened the Spotify app. "Whoa", she said, taken aback, "you have Spotify?" He raised an eyebrow at her. "I am a vampire, Y/N, not a caveman." He set his phone down on the table nearby and the sounds of a soft piano filled the room. He took her hand and twirled her expertly into his arms, his hand resting on her back, while she placed her hands on his shoulders and melted against his warm body. They fell into step, moving slowly to the music. In that moment, it was as if the whole world fell away, and the only thing that remained was this moment, the two of them.

"You have the most wondrous eyes, Y/N. More beautiful than any star in the sky could hope to be", he said, gazing into them, watching them glisten under the dim light of the room. Her cheeks turned pink at his words. "Thank you," she said shyly, resting her head against his shoulder.

They continued to dance, too lost in the music and each other to stop. She brought her head up to look at him, eyes glowing with joy. "I love you, Elijah Mikaelson." Happiness took over his face – hearing her say those three words would never lose its impact. "I love you too," he replied, his expression one of pure bliss. As he drew her closer to his chest, Y/N thanked her lucky stars that she had found Elijah. She knew from the beginning that she would have done anything, faced anything if it meant she could be with him. But tonight, she knew for certain that they belonged together, that he felt as strongly for her as she did for him. To her, that was everything.

[fanfictionaries]

In My Head - Cloudy’s 200 Follower Hyperbole Challenge

Prompt: “I swear to you, I saw it! It was like a baby’s arm holding an apple!”

Pairing: Steve Rogers X female reader

Summary: Being a technological genius had its ups and downs. The downs being you spent more time in your head than you did in the real world. What happens when that character trait has you seeing a whole new side to Steve Rogers? A lot of new sides. 

Words: 4.1k

Warnings: Smut, Swearing, Oral, Throat-Fucking, Dirty Talk, Size Queen, Rough, slight Dom/Sub?, NSFW/18+ only

Author’s Note: Thank you @crushedbyhyperbole ! This was a lot of fun and congratulations on 200 followers! <3 

***

It was your fault, really. You were never known for being overtly present. In truth, unless it was completely required, focusing on the world around you was rarely your main priority. Some called you spacey. Others an airhead. But really it was just that you had more things to think about than where you were going or what the people around you were doing. Your high functioning intelligence made things like algorithms and technical designs the forefront of your attention, while everything else just seemed to blend into the background. White noise. That’s why Tony saw you as such an asset to his lab. There was nothing he loved more than someone who focused on their work so much that everything else took the back burner. So, you never felt the need to be apologetic about your airy personality. If Tony found it acceptable and you found it natural, then why was there a need to change?

Well, the events of that afternoon were a testament to the downfalls of your nature. You were stuck on a problem. You couldn’t get the circuitry on Nat’s new and improved Black Widow’s Bites. It kept shorting out and it was driving you insane. The frustration was manifesting itself throughout your body, agitation and pent up energy coursing through your veins. Deciding to run it off, you left your lab in the basement of the compound and made your way to the gym. Hopping onto one of the many treadmills, you whipped out a strenuous three miles, letting your mind wander over your problem with each step. By the time you stopped the machine, you were sweaty, out of breath, and thoroughly satisfied. You were pretty positive you’d fixed the circuitry issue, the only thing left to do was go back to the lab and apply it physically. Lost in thought, you wandered into the locker room, planning on rinsing off and changing into your work clothes. Steam billowed from the shower area, the sound of water running from a single stall. Making your way to your locker, you began to strip in front of it. Dirty clothes piled on the bench in front of you, you opened your locker to grab your towel and soap only to find it empty. What the heck? Where were your clothes? Maybe you were in front of the wrong one. Opening the locker next to it, you found that one empty as well. A few more lockers opened, and you were thoroughly confused. Empty. All of them empty. You were sure that you’d chosen a locker in that area. Coming back to reality in a rare moment of clarity, you looked around you to see that yes, you were in a locker room, but it looked wrong. Everything seemed…flipped.

The squeak of the shower faucet turning off caught your attention instinctually. Looking to your left, you saw the curtain slide open and to your horror Steve Rogers completely naked. You stood frozen; eyes wide as you took in his impressive form. Sinewy, wet muscle stretched from his traps to his obliques, the sharp cut of his adonis belt pointing like an arrow to a light brown patch of curls. What sat below, caught you completely off guard. Steven Grant Rogers had the largest cock you had ever seen in your life. It was a few moments before Steve noticed you as well. Wide eyed and slack jawed, the time ticked on as the two of you stood rooted to the spot in shock, unable to look away from each other’s naked forms. The distant sound of heavy gym equipment broke you from your trance and you let out a squeak, breaking Steve from his stupor as well.

“What the hell (Y/N)!?” exclaimed Steve, covering himself with his hands and staring up at the ceiling. But it was too late, you’d seen it all and so had he. “Why are you naked?!”

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry!” you cried, running from the room and putting your clothes on as quickly as possible without tripping. You ran barefoot through the gym, your shoes long forgotten on the bench in the locker room. You didn’t stop until you made it all the way to your lab and even then, you didn’t stop.

You’d been in your lab for the past week, working nonstop. Locking yourself away seemed like the best option, and so you only left the small space for necessary provisions like food and bathroom breaks. The loveseat you kept in the room had become incredibly handy as well, allowing you to take small cat naps in between your work.  You hoped that if you could keep your mind occupied, you wouldn’t think about what you’d seen. You wouldn’t think about all that you’d seen. All that he’d seen. But alas, it was no use. All the important and creative things that usually floated through your mind, blinding you to the outside world, were gone. Replaced by more…inappropriate but equally creative things.

Lost in a vivid daydream of riding Captain Steve Rogers till the cows came home, you didn’t realize that the soldering iron you’d been using had slipped from your grip and was currently burning a hole through the sleeve of your shirt. When the searing pain of 400 degrees Celsius came into contact with your arm, you jumped back clutching your arm to your chest.

“Fuck! Motherfucking fuck! Jesus motherfucking Christ! Mother fuck, fuck, FUCK!” You scrambled to the sink, yanking up your sleeve and turning the cold water on high.

“Whoa, put a quarter in the swear jar, why don’t ya?” Natasha’s voice rang through the room, obviously having heard your outburst. She came to your side, observing your arm through the clear stream of water, a bored expression plastered her face. “Ehh, I’ve seen worse.”

“You’ve seen worse than a 400 degree Celsius burn?” you asked incredulously, the burning sensation beginning to dwindle as the cold water numbed the pain and flesh.

“Don’t suppose you’ve ever seen what a Vietnam land mine can do to a man, have you?” Natasha asked with blasé, picking up the soldering iron from the floor and turning it off before carefully placing it in its stand.  

“Point made,” you responded, turning the water off and delicately toweling off the area. You inspected your arm further; it wasn’t the worst thing you’d done to yourself in the lab. It may blister, but not bad enough to warrant a hospital visit. Moving to the first aid kit, you pulled out the burn cream and ointment, applying it to your arm followed by a large bandage.

“You’ve been noticeably absent. What’s been keeping you all cooped up?” Nat asked. Her tone was casual, but you’d known her long enough to know that no question from Natasha Romanov was ever casual. Chances are, by the time she was asking you a question she already knew the answer.

“I take it you’ve spoken to Steve then,” you sighed, moving to your workbench and beginning to fiddle with the first thing you saw.

“Something like that—" Natasha smirked “—If you count him glaring at me and insisting it was none of my business, then yes it was a riveting conversation.”

“Then you don’t know what happened?”

“I may have gotten Steve to spill the beans,” said Nat, fighting a small smirk. You rolled your eyes. Spies and their interrogation skills.  

“I didn’t mean to walk in on him! I was thinking about how to fix your stupid bites and—”

“Oh, so now it’s my fault?” Natasha raised a speculative eyebrow at you, making you backtrack.

“No, no, I just—I saw…I saw him naked Nat! And he saw me naked and…”

“And?” Natasha asked, not fazed at all as to why it was such a big deal.

“I saw him naked and I liked it!” you admitted, leaning over your workbench and burying your face into the cold metal top.

You heard the crass bark of Natasha’s laughter, “Of course you liked it (Y/N), he’s a super soldier. I doubt you’d find a guy nearly as built as him.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about his…ya know!”

“Oh? Please elaborate,” said Natasha, leaning against the workbench opposite of you.

With a heavy sigh, you stood up, holding out your hands out to represent the length of Steve’s well…length. Natasha gasped, “No! You’re lying!”

“I swear to you, I saw it! It was like a baby’s arm holding an apple!”

“Okay – you have officially been spending too much time with Tony,” said Natasha, walking over to you and placing her hands on your shoulders. “Look – you’re going to have to get over this sooner rather than later and by sooner, I mean a few seconds because I may have agreed to distract you so that you couldn’t run when Steve came down here to talk to you.”

“You what?!”

Just as you made to run for the door, Steve walked through it, the entirety of him making the space feel small. You stood there, staring at each other in awkward silence.

“Well—" said Natasha cutting the tension “—I can see that the two of you have a lot to discuss. I’ll just be going.”

And with that the red head was gone, leaving the two of you to stand in silence. You stared at the ground, unable to look at the man without thinking about his…oh god, you couldn’t even say it in your head. In all honesty, it shouldn’t be surprising that the super soldier was packing, but you never expected it to be so MASSIVE. God, this was wrong. He was a human being. Not just some piece of meat. Some thick…big…piece of delicious meat.

“Look, about what happened—” Steve began, but you cut him off.

“I’m so sorry Steve. Really, I wasn’t thinking, and I thought I walked into the women’s locker room and apparently it was the men’s locker room and I really shouldn’t have ogled you the way I did and—”

Steve chuckled, stopping your apology in its tracks, “You’re sorry? Here I thought you were upset with me for checking you out.”

“Truthfully, I didn’t even notice. I was too…um, you were checking me out?”

Steve went bright red, “Well, I mean, yea. You’re a beautiful woman and you were naked. I mean, I’m Captain America, but I’m no saint.”

“Oh.” You were quiet, letting his words settle. Steve thought you were beautiful. That was news to you. “Well, I guess while we’re being honest, you were pretty impressive to look at as well.” Some parts more than others.

“And what parts would that be?”

It wasn’t until Steve asked, eyebrows raised and an amused look on his face that you realized you’d said that last part aloud. Shit.

“Is it my…arms? Legs? Chest?” Steve asked, stepped towards you slowly with a teasing tone in his voice.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, leaning your head back and closing your eyes. You were thoroughly embarrassed.

“Come on (Y/N), tell me. I need to know what my best feature is.” Clearly Steve was trying to lighten the mood, but if he knew what you really thought his ‘best feature’ was, he wouldn’t be treating this so lightly.

“I don’t really want to—”

“Is it my shoulders? I tend to get complimented on them a lot. Or is it my—”

“Your penis! It was your penis Steve! You literally have the biggest dick I’ve ever seen!” Your hands flew to your mouth, as if you could retroactively grab the words and stuff them back into your brain.

Shock splashed across Steve’s face before quickly dissolving into something different. He took another step towards you, crossing his arms and emphasizing the bulging muscles of his upper body.

“Oh my god. I am absolutely mortified. Please, can we just pretend like I didn’t just—”

“Like you didn’t just say I have the biggest dick you’ve ever seen?” Steve asked, smirking down at you, arms still crossed. The words sounded so delicious coming from his lips and heat began to pool in your center.

“Jesus…yes. That. Can we just pretend like I didn’t say that?” you pleaded. The last thing you needed was Steve of all people teasing you about this.

“Hmmmmm, I don’t think I can.” Steve looked down at you in mock thought, his expression speculative.

“Steve, please. Don’t do this,” you pleaded again, turning away from him and moving across the lab to fuss with some equipment. Maybe if you physically distanced yourself, he’d understand that you didn’t find the joke funny in the least. It might also calm you down – your nipples were so hard you were sure they could be seen through the many layers of clothing you wore.

“Do what?” Steve asked from behind you, his voice slowly growing louder as he approached your turned figure. “I’m just curious. Tell me, have you been thinking about my cock all week? Is that why you’ve been hiding? Avoiding me? Because you can’t stop thinking about it?”

You turned, meeting the hard flesh of his chest. How had he snuck up on you so easily? His words were antagonistic, but seeing his face up close, you realized that his eyes held a dangerous glint to them. You used your tongue to wet your lips, throat suddenly feeling dry, “I um…I—that’s—well that’s just ridiculous.”

“Really? I don’t think so—” He uncrossed his arms, leaning down to brace them against the countertop behind you, invading your space “—I haven’t been able to stop thinking about your body either. How it looked. How it would feel in my hands. Would it would be like to have you under me. Over me. Those perfect lips wrapped around me.”

His words had you in a trance. Had Steve really been fantasizing about you the way you’d been fantasizing about him? There was no way he was interested in you seriously. What would he want with the space cadet in the labs? It had to be purely physical. You’d never been one for casual anything. Still, the thought of his hard, long member in your mouth made you salivate. You squirmed, thighs rubbing together and a small whimper escaping your lips.

“Oh (Y/N), sweetie. If you wanted a taste, all you had to do was ask,” said Steve, his tone condescending. Reaching a hand up, he tapped you lightly on the nose before pushing away from you and reaching for his belt. You watched as he undid the buckle followed by the button of his slacks and then slowly slid his zipper down. Slipping his thumbs into the waistband of his boxer briefs, he pushed the fabric down just enough to reveal the entirety of him. He was even bigger than you remembered – although that might be because the last time you’d seen it, he’d been fully flaccid. Now, you watched as the smooth skin slowly tightened as he grew in length. He grasped himself in one of his large hands and stroked himself a few times, smirking confidently at your slack expression.

“Well—” he motioned down to his fisted cock “—get on your knees sweetie. It’s not going to suck itself.”

The words should have angered you. They should have sparked a small flame of defiance that said, ‘suck it yourself, you asshole’. He was being presumptuous, cocky, demeaning.

And yet…

You dropped to your knees, wasting no time as you wrapped your lips around the thick head. He was thick, unimaginably so, but that didn’t deter you. Relaxing your jaw, you let your tongue run along the underside of the tip. He tasted heady, raw, masculine. The musk of his skin and salt of his precum coated your tongue as you took him deeper. Forming a seal around what length you could manage, you sucked languidly, bringing a hand up to grip the sizable rest of him.

Steve moaned, a hand coming down to lightly rest of the top of your head as you bobbed on his cock, “That’s it. What a little cock slut. You like that? You like worshipping this dick? You can barely get halfway down but look at you try. It’s so adorable.”

You shuddered, his words causing a visceral reaction in your body. You could feel it, the wetness building between your legs. Sinking deeper onto his length, relaxing your throat and allowing just the tip to pass the threshold, you slid a hand down your body and up your skirt. Not even making it to the inside of your panties, you felt the proof of your arousal dripping down the inside of your thighs. You moaned, trailing your fingertips over the slick and up to meet your soaked center.

Fingers threaded into the hair on the back of your head and yanked harshly. You cried out, reaching up to grip Steve’s forearm as he pulled you roughly off his cock and back up to your feet.

“Look at you,” he said, running a thumb over your spit soaked lips, the saliva dribbling down your chin as you breathed heavily. “So pretty.” He pressed his thumb past your lips, letting it rest against the flat of your tongue as he gripped your jaw tightly in his hand. Slowly, he slid the digit further and further back before removing it and replacing it with two of his fingers. When he reached the back of your throat and met no resistance he kept going, a look of pride on his face. He was impressed. He fucked your throat with his fingers, your hair still gripped painfully in his other hand. When he was satisfied, he pulled his wet fingers from your mouth and brought them down below your skirt, shoving past your panties and using the moisture to rub your already sopping cunt. You whimpered at his touch.

His eyes never left yours, his unwavering gaze challenging you to say something. To say anything resembling a no. It was like a test. A test to see how far he could push you. How far you’d let him push the boundaries of what was and was not acceptable. So, this was what the great Captain America was into. You could tell he liked to see you like this, pliable like putty in his hands. His to shape and mold. You could see it in the way he almost vibrated with satisfaction when you gave in. When you let him use you like an object. In that moment, you never felt more like an object. Steve made you feel like you were nothing but a body to play with and use for his pleasure. The way he looked at you. Like he wanted to possess you. No. Like he already owned you. Your mind told you to run. It told you that everything he was doing was wrong. But your body, your body had never felt so alive. If Steve Rogers wanted to treat you like an object, then call you a fucking lamp.

Sighing in satisfaction, Steve gripped your hair tighter and began to walk, dragging you towards your small loveseat. Tripping over yourself, you attempted to keep up with his long, fast strides. He pulled you roughly onto the cushions, positioning you onto your back with your head hanging off the side. Your skin prickled with anticipation as he flipped your skirt up, yanking the thin material of your panties down your legs. Next was your shirt – body raising off the couch long enough for him to pull the material over your head. The cups of your bra were pulled roughly down, revealing the soft flesh of your breasts, nipples peaked. He gave the sensitive tips a gentle squeeze; your body arched into his touch.

“So sensitive. I like that,” Steve hummed, moving to stand above your head. Gripping his shaft, he pressed the tip to the seam of your lips, “Open.”

You did as you were told, opening wide to allow his length to slowly slide into your mouth. Conscientious of your teeth, you took him as deep as you could. When his cock met the barrier of your throat, Steve’s hand came down to stroke the delicate skin of your neck. He ran the tips of his fingers along the length, his touch feather light.

“Relax. Breathe through your nose.” His voice was firm and commanding. Tilting your head further back, you relaxed your tongue and throat, allowing him to slide further and further until his pubic bone met your chin. At the realization that you had managed to take all of him down your throat, your pussy clenched, and clit throbbed. Breathing heavily through your nose, you waited as Steve kept himself still inside your mouth.

“Now—" Steve began, breath coming in rough pants, “—I’m going to fuck this tight little throat of yours. How does that sound?”

You moaned around his length, making him growl at the vibrations.

“Oh, I think you like that. Why don’t you touch that little pussy? Play with your little clit while I fuck your throat with my cock.”

You touched yourself, the sweet pull of his erection only adding to your arousal as he began to thrust in and out of you. He was gentle at first, taking his time. But very quickly his pace became erratic and so did your fingers at your center. Dipping your hand down, you fingered yourself, feeling the building sensation of an orgasm on the brink already. A second hand at your core caught you off guard. Steve was leaning over you, his own hand pushing your fingers out of the way and diving into your depths. His fingers were longer and wider than your own, reaching places previously untouched.  

“Fuck! You are absolutely dripping. Does this turn you on? My fat cock using your little throat? If I’d known you were such a little slut for big cock, I would have shown it to you a long time ago.” He continued to finger you, your own hand at your clit, hips bucking uncontrollably as you chased your completion. You were growing lightheaded, unable to breathe through your nose as well, as he used you for his pleasure.

“You’re close. I can feel it. Come on my fingers. Come on my fingers while I come down this tight little fuck hole,” demanded Steve, fingers picking up pace. His other hand wrapped around your throat, feeling his own cock moving through the thin layer of flesh. He squeezed ever so lightly, the pressure making him moan. Your vision began to turn black, head drifting ever higher as the coil in your womb grew tighter and tighter until it was too much. Your body convulsed under him, crying weakly around his length as your orgasm took over. The last thing making it into the conscious forefront of your mind, the sound of Steve’s own release and the warm sensation of his cum splashing down your throat.

When you came back to reality, you found yourself wrapped up in the warm arms of a certain super soldier. Seated on his lap, he rocked you gently, a large hand stroking your back, your hair, your face. Blinking up at him, he smiled down at you. All traces of the hard, patronizing, possessive man were gone. Replaced with the soft, kind eyes of the Steve Rogers you and the rest of the world knew.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked, voice soft, as he stroked your cheek.

Your own ‘hi’ came out cracked and hoarse, evidence of the rough session that had just occurred. Steve looked down at you, his face a mixture of adoration and regret.

“Are you okay?” he asked again, “I’m so sorry (Y/N). I didn’t mean to lose control like that, I just—you just—” The words escaped him. He looked away exasperatedly.

You reached a hand up, cupping his face and making him look back down at you, “Hey, I’m okay. I’m a big girl. You didn’t break me.”

You gave him a small smile, grateful when he returned it.

“Are you sure? I mean, you passed out,” Steve said, giving you a look akin to a kicked puppy.

Who was this man, that he could go from dominant and possessive to sweet and child-like so quickly? Shaking your head, you laughed lightly, lifting up to place a soft kiss to his lips. He kissed you back, his lips soft and firm against your own. He held you close, arms strong and protective around you. Pulling away, you looked up into the blue azure of his eyes, “I’m sure. Besides, you know me – always stuck in my head.”

Marvel Taglist:

@caffiend-queen

@hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall

[dvp95]

quiet on widow’s peak (1)

pairing: dan howell/phil lester, pj liguori/sophie newton/chris kendall rating: teen & up  tags: paranormal investigator, youtuber phil lester, dan howell is not a youtuber, online friendship, slow burn, strangers to lovers, nonbinary character, background poly, phil does some buzzfeed unsolved shit and dan is a fan word count: 3.2k (this chapter & total) summary: Phil's got a list of paranormal experiences a mile long that he likes to share with the world. Abandoned buildings, cemeteries, and ghost stories have always called his name, and a particular fan of his has a really, really good ghost story. Bingo squares: met on tumblr

new wip? NEW WIP.

read this chapter on ao3 or here!

The wind is loud in this one. That's frustrating, and it makes Phil's job a lot harder, but he can't control the weather. Be cool if he could. He does his best to level out his voice and the background noise of Mother Nature before he settles in with his good headphones and really cranks the volume.

It's even more annoying to listen to the alternating crackle and whistle right in his ears. Phil has dealt with worse during this whole process, though, so he finds the strength to power through it. He listens to the full thing three times, scribbling a few timestamps down on a Post-It pad as he does. He takes a break after that, does some stretches around his tiny bedroom and tiptoes out to get a snack without waking the whole damn house, and then he's right back in his apparently ergonomic office chair to subject his ears to more of this nonsense.

Wind, wind, and more wind. And sometimes just Phil's own voice. Nothing of note.

Phil is about to give this video up as a loss altogether when he hits one of the final timestamps and... can't figure out what that noise is.

For the first time since he opened this file, Phil grins. He exports the clip and plays around with it in Audacity. Some videos are always more fun than others, and Phil had felt like he was slogging through this one until now.

"Do you hear that, Theodore?" Phil murmurs. The tiny cactus on his desk, thankfully, does not respond.

It sounds like a person. It sounds like a person, whispering, and it definitely isn't the wind, and it isn't Phil's own voice, because he's in the middle of a question in this clip.

Phil might just be going crazy from sleep deprivation or wishful thinking, though. He pulls out his phone and texts the only group chat that doesn't cause him anxiety, which is comprised of the housemates that he actually gets along with. Anyone up? he asks, adding a single eye emoji for good measure.

Even though it's gone two in the morning, he gets immediate responses from all of them. A string of vaguely dirty emojis from Chris, a simple yeah from Sophie, and a cheerfully morbid did you know that insomnia leads to an early death? from PJ.

Wanna listen to a noise for me?

Within three minutes, Phil's bedroom is full of people in various states of sleepiness. All of them are in ridiculous pyjamas - including Phil - and PJ's hair in particular has taken on a mind of its own. Phil's room isn't really big enough for all of them, so there's some awkward shuffling before PJ claims the office chair. Phil sits at the foot of his bed with Sophie and Chris on either side of him, pressed close against each other's shoulders. It's a good thing he likes these people.

"I mean, it isn't the wind," is PJ's confident opinion. "Did you have anyone with you?"

"No, it's just me and my camera against the world," says Phil.

"No need to be a twat," Chris informs him. He taps at PJ's upper arm, impatient. "Let me have a go, then, if there's something there."

Chris is famously bad at hearing things in white noise, but PJ acquiesces the seat easily enough. Phil laughs, watching them do a weird step dance around each other in the small space between Phil's bed and desk.

"I can't hear any specific words," PJ says as he flops down across Phil's pillows, making himself comfortable. Phil just nods, because neither can he.

"How d'you know it's a person, then?" Sophie asks. Her voice is probably the only one soft enough for the hour. Their other housemates hate them for their frequent all-nighters, but Sophie is kind and quiet enough that she slips under the radar.

"You'll see for yourself."

When Sophie goes to respond, Chris interrupts in a hilariously loud voice, as if he's forgotten that having headphones on doesn't mean they can't hear him. "It's some kind of ghoulie or ghostie! I can barely fucking hear it, Philly, why didn't you mic it?"

"Why didn't I mic the ghost?" Phil asks, bewildered. Naturally, Chris doesn't hear him.

Sophie taps Chris on the shoulder and stands, leaning over his shoulder as she takes her turn listening to the sound clip over and over. Chris spins in the chair a few times and gives Phil an unhinged sort of grin.

"You got something this time," says Chris. He sounds like he's having just as much fun as Phil is, now that there's actually a thing to listen to besides his own voice and the loud, loud wind.

"I think so," says Phil. "Why didn't I mic the ghost?"

"I'm saying it would make your job a lot easier if you mic the ghost, yes."

"If I could mic a ghost, I'd be a millionaire."

"Then you better get on it, eh?" Chris laughs, spinning a bit faster. Phil has never seen the man sleep. It's a little bit worrying.

"Sure," Phil says, giving up on trying to teach any logic to someone who's clearly long lost their hold on it. "Next time I spend all night in a graveyard, I'll mic any spirits that might be hanging out."

"Shut up," Sophie tells them, mild.

Chris mimes zipping his lips, wrapping an easy arm around her waist, and PJ laughs.

For the first few months they all lived together, Phil had struggled to keep up with whatever dynamics were going on between the three of them, but he's long since given it up as something he's not going to understand.

After a moment of quiet, Sophie nods. "I hear it," she tells them. Even with the headphones on, she's quiet. "It's not words, I wouldn't put any subtitles over it."

"Yeah," PJ agrees. "Just let your audience duke it out in the comments like they always do."

"Thanks, guys," Phil says, feeling a sort of warmth sink into his shoulders. He notices that Chris is pulling up another application and half-heartedly protests. "Chris, you don't need to edit this one for me. I still haven't paid you for the last video." Or the one before that. Or the three or four previous. Phil has it written down somewhere.

"Don't be stupid," Chris hums, already clicking around erratically. It makes the editor in Phil want to scream, but he has to admit that Chris manages to find more weird visual stuff to isolate than he could on his own.

"I feel bad," says Phil, chewing his lip.

"I've told you," says Chris, "you can pay me back in chores and sexual favours."

PJ's slippered foot knocks against Phil's hip, and he grins brightly when Phil turns to him. "You know, I do have a bit of a laundry backlog."

"Funny thing, that," says Sophie.

Biting back a laugh, Phil shakes his head. "Alright, alright. Everybody leave their laundry in front of my door tomorrow."

"That's a no on the beej, then?" Chris asks, raising a single eyebrow and pointing dramatically at Phil. It has been near two years of this, and Phil is still too afraid to ask if it's a joke.

It's not as if Phil's answer would change if it wasn't a joke, because he's not interested in Chris, and he's especially not interested in becoming entangled in whatever nonsense his housemates have gotten themselves into. But, still, he might be kinder about letting Chris down if he were being genuine.

"That is a no," Phil confirms. "But I will wash your pants."

"Kinky," says Chris. He turns back to the screen and makes an incomprehensible hand gesture. "This is pretty shit. You know that, right?"

Yeah. Phil does know that. It's getting harder and harder to have the same optimism in every video that he'd had when he first started recording his wanderings around the supposedly-haunted places of Rossendale. He'd brought the camera with him when he left, but might have left that optimism behind. Phil only kind of believes in supernatural things - the way he only kind of believes in giraffes or true love - but it's been more fun than anything else to pick up a camera and try to find some evidence.

He's been doing this since he was nineteen, though, and he's getting a little bored by the formula of it all. Go into a haunted place, try to communicate with the spirits, pick up some garbled words or creepy noises, highlight visual oddities like orbs, and let the internet tear it all to shreds. Honestly, he'd have more fun making proper horror at this point in his life.

Phil shrugs and pulls his knees up to his chest. He wants to hide away from the sympathy in Sophie's eyes, from Chris' blunt words. "Yeah. I'm getting kind of... I don't know. Restless."

"Maybe you should ask people to submit things again," PJ suggests. "That went well last time."

It had, actually. Phil had needed to sort through a lot more ridiculous stories and obvious hoaxes than usual, but he'd found some nuggets of gold in all that hay. Or however that saying goes.

"People did like having their stories read out," Phil says slowly. "I'd just need to be extra sure that nobody's, like..."

"Ripping off r/NoSleep," says PJ.

"Yeah, exactly."

"We can help," Sophie says, and Phil could cry at how easily PJ and Chris agree with her.

He really doesn't deserve to have such great people around him. They've got work and lives of their own, but they're always happy to spend time crowded around Phil's computer listening to weird noises together. Phil sometimes wonders what they get out of it. Do they just like helping him, the way he has fun holding the boom for PJ's films or testing Sophie's concoctions? Or are they just as fascinated as Phil by the weirdness of it all? Do they want to see the cool instances of paranormal activity, too? At this point it feels nearly impossible to ask.

"That's going to be a lot of washing pants for me," Phil sighs. He doesn't know how to thank them, not when they always just wave it off.

"Sure is," says PJ. "But you should... ask the audience!"

"Your Chris Tarrant is pretty good," says Phil, only a little surprised by it. PJ's voice is as much of a tool to him as the rest of his body, and it's one he's always been skilled with. The impressions still tend to catch Phil off guard sometimes.

PJ tips an invisible hat. "Thank you, thank you, I'll be here all week."

At his friends' not so gentle encouragement, Phil makes a few posts on his socials to ask his followers for new creepy things to explore. It might be the middle of the night in Brighton, but he has a feeling that Chris isn't leaving his desk until he's found every instance of an orb or strange shadow in the fifty minutes of currently uncut footage.

It seems like Sophie is on the same page, because she excuses herself to make tea for everyone. PJ leans over Chris' shoulder and watches the clips without sound, his lips moving as if he's murmuring to himself.

Sometimes this feels more like a group effort than Phil is comfortable with. He's never been very good at asking for help. As grateful as he is, he still itches with the need to take back control of the situation. He uses the slow trickle of fan submissions to distract him from that feeling, because all three of them do make his videos better when he stops being so possessive over his footage. Phil flops onto his back and scrolls through the incoming emails, tweets, and Tumblr messages to see if there's anything promising.

For the most part, the answer is a resounding no. Some things are blatant lies - there are countless ripoffs of films or novels that Phil happens to be familiar with, a few things swiped from creepypasta or subreddits, and his usual amount of conspiracy theorist fans insisting that some high profile person or other is a lizard - but most of it, to Phil's dismay, just doesn't grab his attention the way he wants it to.

Sophie comes back with tea and snacks. She leans her head against Phil's shoulder and watches him cycle through his apps, fact-checking idly and sighing every time something easily proves to be a hoax. Her hair smells like coconut and she makes a soft humming noise every time she lifts the mug to her lips. Her presence alone, small and warm and supportive, is enough to keep Phil from throwing his phone across the room and having a right sulk about how his career is in a tailspin because nobody makes ghosts like they used to. At some point in the night, Sophie's breathing evens out to the point that Phil thinks she's asleep, but then she reaches out to tap a tiny finger to his screen.

"What's this, then?" she murmurs.

Phil has been zoned out entirely for at least fifteen, and he blinks back into reality. There's a new message in his Tumblr inbox, one that seems like it must be over the character limit for asks. He must have submissions turned on or something, that's the only possible explanation for an actual essay being sent to him. It's barely broken into paragraphs with very little punctuation and no capitalization, and Phil has been staring at screens for far too long to try and parse this on his own.

"Can you please make sure this isn't, like, the entire Bee Movie," Phil asks, handing Sophie his phone with only a slight twinge of anxiety. He trusts her not to go snooping, but. Still. "I need to pee."

"Mhm," Sophie hums, already apparently lost in whatever stream-of-consciousness has been dropped into Phil's inbox.

The floorboards in this old Brighton house creak, and Phil has always envied some of his housemates for being able to sidestep the noises. It doesn't seem to matter how long he lives here, how much he tries to avoid making any noise, it's like the floorboards are determined to creak under Phil's weight. He winces as he passes two bedrooms whose occupants surely don't appreciate creaking outside their doors at such an ungodly hour.

At least he doesn't run into any walls this time. The nightlight in the bathroom at the end of the hall is the only thing lighting Phil's way, and he tends to stub his toes on absolutely nothing in this kind of semi-darkness.

When he makes his - very, very creaky - way back to his own room, he's bewildered by the scene that greets him. PJ and Chris have joined Sophie on his bed, and all three of them are poring over Phil's phone as though they're looking at a map to the Holy Grail.

"Hello," Phil says slowly, closing the door behind him. It creaks, too. "You aren't going through my pictures, are you?"

"No," Sophie and PJ chorus without looking up.

"You got nudes on here or something?" Chris asks with a mild sort of interest, clearly also too engaged in Phil's phone to put his all into the flirting.

"I don't," says Phil. It doesn't sound convincing, even though it's true, and he waits for Chris to tease him about it some more. When he doesn't, Phil has to admit that he's curious. "So I guess it isn't a meme or something?"

That makes them look up, in almost comedic synchronicity. Sophie blinks a few times, as if she's coming back to herself. She holds out Phil's phone and shakes her head.

"It's not a meme," she says. "And near as we can tell, it's genuine."

Phil joins them and takes his phone back, adjusting his glasses. His bed really wasn't made for four people, but his housemates have never had any personal space amongst themselves, and Phil isn't one to say no to human contact when he isn't getting it anywhere else.

The message is just as hard to read as it was at first glance, but Phil puts his brain to work. If his friends are reacting like this, it usually means he's in for something good.

hi ok so the thing is that this is completely ridiculous and i dont think its what youre looking for at all but theres a building near my uni thats got a ton of stories around it and it only started happening like this year like it isnt an old obviously haunted type of place but theres a lot of weird shit that goes down there so i found all the references to it online that i could and ive summarized them here (w/ sources ofc im not a dick) and its all just this side of strange so it seems like the sort of thing you might be interested in ok here we go SO

And it goes on like that. Phil feels his eyebrows raising as he clicks the provided links in the following walls of text, which are exactly what they're advertised as. Not a single rickroll in there. Just a handful of posts on Reddit and Facebook and independent blogs about various experiences people have had with a particular abandoned building in -

"I know this place," Phil says, surprised. He looks up at PJ's grin, Sophie's wide eyes, Chris' palms rubbing together in exaggerated interest. "I've been to parties here. Well, okay," he corrects himself before his friends can do it for him, "I've gone with Martyn to parties here and left early."

"Yeah, it isn't far out of Manchester," PJ hums. He bounces in place a bit, like he's suddenly energized enough to go jump on the soonest train up north.

"It didn't seem that weird," says Phil. "It's been a few years, I guess, but it wasn't even that scary."

"Sounds like it's only just started, though," Chris pipes up.

Phil isn't sure how much he likes that. The idea of a place he's been a few times, half an hour from his childhood home, being so suddenly full of haunted activity feels... weird. Still, it's catching his interest in a way that nothing else has in months, so.

"I'll look into it some more tomorrow," he decides, glancing at the time. His brother is probably still awake, to be honest, but Phil doesn't want to be that guy asking 'hey, do you remember the Wilkins place?' before dawn has even broken. Again. He has definitely done that sort of thing in the past. "I'll have plenty of time while I do, what, seventeen loads of laundry?"

"Something like that," PJ laughs. "Want us to clear out?"

As nice as the company and help has been, Phil still feels a rush of relief at the concept of being left alone again. He nods, still scrolling idly through the Wilkins place submission.

It hits him, very literally, too close to home to ignore. He wonders if his fan knows that, if this is somehow an elaborate prank that will end up just wasting Phil's time, but he's too curious to leave it alone. He'll just have to ask around, see if anyone else has heard these murmurings.

Til then, maybe he ought to try and get some sleep. Phil's computer, still open on the editing software, tempts him.

Well. What's another couple hours at this point?

[therealcalicali]

PROLOGUE: CLOSER TO ME

Synopsis: Upon moving to a new city,  the Reader crosses paths with Ivar, Hvitserk and the rest of the Lothbrok clan. Since her own life is already filled with internal demons from a strict upbringing, their introduction into her life only adds to the drama. As things progress, Reader discovers that there is more to her interactions with Ivar and Hvisterk than meets the eye.

Read Chapter 1 here: CLOSER TO ME: CHAPTER 1

Read Chapter 2 here: CLOSER TO ME: CHAPTER 2

Read Chapter 3 here: CLOSER TO ME: Chapter 3

Read Chapter 4 here: CLOSER TO ME: CHAPTER 4

Read Chapter 4 here: CLOSER TO ME: CHAPTER 5

Read Chapter 6 here: CLOSER TO ME: CHAPTER 6

Read Chapter 7 here: CLOSER TO ME: CHAPTER 7

Read Chapter 8 here: CLOSER TO ME: CHAPTER 8

Read Chapter 9 here: CLOSER TO ME: CHAPTER 9

Read Chapter 10 here: CLOSER TO ME: CHAPTER 10

__________________________________

Prologue Warnings: None     

Word Count: 6500+         

Setting: Modern Vikings

Genre: Romance/Drama                   

Pairing: Ivar x Reader x Hvitserk (Love Triangle)

Tagged: @irishhiggins  @mblaqgi  @i-care-bout-you-boo  @peaches-seed  @sajess98

You suddenly felt very stressed out. Not that it didn't happen to you once in a while but this particular day was different. It was as if the conversation with your mother had taken you back to the awkward childhood and teen years you've tried so hard to escape.

“Come on Y/N. Let’s forget about it for now.” You advised yourself about your mom’s criticism of your personal life.

Despite it being a Friday night, you were scheduled to work so you didn’t have time to mope around. After a quick shower, you hastily dressed and put on your make-up. Since you didn’t have enough time to do any type of hairstyle, you opted for a sleek ponytail. After putting on your earrings, you grabbed your purse before you realized you had misplaced your car keys. For what seemed like forever, you tore up the apartment before you finally found them under the couch.

“How the hell did they wind up down there?” 

By now, your make-up had begun to smudge a bit due to your increased activity. The light layer of sweat was not only on your face but on your body as well. 

Grateful to have located the keys to your 1998 Honda Civic, you dashed to your balcony and opened the sliding glass door. Relaxing yourself, you allowed the cool night air to wash over you. You crisp white blouse and black pencil skirt finally stopped sticking to you as the moisture on your body dried away.

"Ugh! Why can't we ever just have a normal conversation? Just once!!" You pondered with exasperation looking off into the distance.

In silent contemplation, you stared into the beautiful night sky a few minutes before returning indoors to head for work. You had barely finished sliding on your black work pumps when you knocked over the forgotten cup of cold coffee onto the beige carpet.

"For the love of God! Can anything go right today?" You screamed in frustration. Your voice almost echoed in the one bedroom apartment you had resided in for only 4 months.

It was a new place as well as a new city. Just what you needed to get away from your overbearing family and nosey friends. And despite what they all thought, you didn't go running back home in defeat. Truthfully, you had surprised everyone. No one actually thought you could live so far away from home, but so far, so good.

You glanced at you cell phone for the time as you stepped out of your apartment door.

"Crap! 7:45 pm!" You observed with a roll of your eyes.

Your shift was supposed to start at eight but thanks to your mom, you had really lost track of time. Luckily, you lived pretty close to the freeway. Despite running late, with some luck you could probably get there at a decent time. You quickly made your way down the steps of the second floor all the way to the gated parking garage. 

"Hey Y/N! How have you been?" 

The sweet voice belonged to your neighbor and acquaintance Marianna. She was seated her red BMW waiting for the gate to open wide enough for her to leave. Looking at her immaculate makeup and her professionally styled hair, you immediately felt frumpy.

"I'm doing pretty good. Just running late." You replied with wave.

"Oh? So, what's his name?" Marianna gave you a devious grin. 

“Nothing like that. I'm just going to work." You said in a soft tone as you unlocked your car door.

Marianna shook her head with feigned disappointment and pulled her lips into a toddler-like pout. It actually got a genuine giggle out of you. She was quite a raven haired beauty with a very outgoing personality. You could definitely see that she had what most people would refer to as an A-type personality. The funny thing was that despite you being quite the introvert, you admired her jovial, outgoing nature. 

Besides, if it hadn't been for her picking conversations with you by force in the laundry room and apartment gym, you wouldn't know anyone except the people at work.

"Well, I guess I'll see you in three days. I'm working the New York route for extra money. Saving up for VEGAS you know." 

She made sure to emphasize the word Vegas because she had recently made you promise to go. For whatever reason, as busy as Marianna’s social life was, she seemed intent on befriending you. Why, you had no clue. But then again, you thought it would be sort of nice to experience new things with her leading the way.

With the gate finally opened all the way, Marianna threw you a peace sign and drove off.

When you finished buckling in, you tried to start your car. To your horror however, it took three attempts for the ignition to finally kick in. Upon hearing the engine and radio come to life, you heaved a huge sigh of relief. After the day you had so far, the car not starting would have just been the icing on the cake.

"Guess I do have some luck left after all." You though to yourself.

__________________________________

Loud music and boisterous conversations hit you as soon as you walked into "Club 52". The state-of-the-art nightclub was a hot spot almost seven days a week. Obviously, the weekends were jammed packed. From live performances, burlesque shows and much more , it was lit. Needless to say that when it came to atmosphere, your workplace had it all.

"Well, well, well. Glad to see a certain somebody finally decided to join us. Welcome, il mio timido (Italian: my shy one)." Your boss; Frank Pesci's; deep voice boomed as you tried to quickly put on your apron behind the main bar counter.  

He was a dark haired, blue-eyed Sicilian who always wore tailored suits that fit him to perfection. And today was no exception. Even in late fifties, he was quite the head turner. Women of all ages flirted with him on a regular basis but he only had eyes for his wife of 25 years.

You gave your boss a nervous smile and hoped you weren't in any real trouble. Weekend were important in the club scene so you hated that you were almost half an hour late. Frankie; as he liked to be called; was the kindest man you had ever met so he most likely wasn't going to be too harsh. 

As you finished tying your apron, you tried to decide whether or not to lie about why you were late. As if he knew what you were up to, Frankie watched you with an amused expression as you brainstormed. His blue tie made his blue eyes seem even brighter as they gazed into Y/C eyes.

"Oh forget it! I better just stick to the truth." You told yourself finally.

"I'm so sorry. I guess I lost track of time while talking to my mom. It won't happen---."

Frankie lifted one finger up to cut off your apology. The action spoke volumes about what he was going to say. He had hired you after you practically begged for the job despite not having any experience. Being generous, he had taken pity on you after initially trying to dismiss you from the job interview.

You had explained how you were new in town and that he was your last hope before your rent was due. It was safe to say he was touched by your plight because he hired you despite better candidates interviewing that same day. 

Frankie shot you a genuine smile and calmly informed you it was going to be a busy night due to several private parties going on. The biggest private party was in the Blue Room and he wanted you and your coworker Folaki to host the event.

"ME? PRIVATE PARTY HOSTESSING? Nope!" You internally objected.

Just the mere thought of it made you feel queasy. Unfortunately before you could protest the duty, Frankie gave you a sly smile and walked off to talk to patrons. 

"Ugh! He did that on purpose!" You said aloud without realizing just how loud you had really been.

"You need to relax Y/N. It's not as bad as you think it's going to be."

Folaki, with her slight Nigerian accent, playfully bumped your hip with her own. She had worked at Club 52 for over three years and was super popular with the patrons. And much like Marianna, she was extremely sociable. 

Before you could get a word in edgewise, she grabbed you wrist lightly and soon had you struggling to keep up with her pace. As the two of you walked towards the Blue Room, Folaki enthusiastically tried to encourage you.

"Look Y/N, it's about time you worked the private parties. Trust me. They're so much fun. Just chat people up and play games with them. You'll get the biggest tips you’ve ever seen." Folaki said as she turned to you and swayed her hips seductively. "It's the best tips you'll ever get without working at a strip club girl. Trust me." 

You were quite horrified at the thought of chatting up strangers. It was all good and well when you worked the regular floor because you could be reserved and speak when necessary. But with party room guests, they were expecting a superb host/hostess for the money they dished out. 

"Do you think I could just switch out with Jason? I mean, he's done this tons of times. Besides, it will make things go smoother for you if he’s helping instead of me." You said attempting to convince Folaki as you passed by the Red Room. 

The Blue Room was within sight and your heart began beating in your ears so loudly that it drowned out all other sound around you. Folaki glanced at you after checking her makeup in her compact one last time.

"Don't even try it Y/N." She giggled while shaking her head. Seeing how nervous you were, she put her arm around you as you walked side-by-side. "Look, Frankie said he wants you to get out of your comfort zone. He strictly forbid everyone from switching assignments with you.”

Noticing your still apprehensive expression, Folaki gave you a tight squeeze. “Don't worry  so much. We're going to kill it. You and I are going to make a great team."

"Great.” You thought. 

___________________________

The Blue Room was buzzing with activity, music and lots of laughter. Despite being nervous as hell, you noticed that whomever had rented it out, had really good taste. The color scheme was white, black and blue and very upscale in decor. 

Typically the themes chosen by patrons ranged from amusing to gaudy but this was stylish all the way. You were so lost in thought that you almost forgot why you were there in the first place. That was until Folaki yelled your name. 

Looking up, you saw her at what appeared to be the main table beckoning you with her hand. Apprehensively, you began making your way through some attendees. As you neared the table, you nearly froze when everyone seated there turned to look at you. If it had been possible to run away at that very moment without getting fired, you would have.

There were several men and two women staring at you with various facial expressions. One of the women; a blonde; looked you up and down with some disdain before sipping her water. You noted that the men at the table were all very handsome. Not that you got a really good look because you tried to keep your eyes on Folaki. 

"So, as I was saying guys, I'm Folaki and this here is my partner in crime Y/N.”

You gave a polite wave to the group upon hearing your name. As you did so, you noticed that a guy with a somewhat solemn expression was looking at you instead of Folaki. It made you uneasy because you had always hated when people stared at you for too long. It made you self-conscious.

“We'll be your hostesses for tonight so don't be shy if you need anything." Folaki spoke with so much passion that everyone at the table was hanging on her every word. "And for the record, I'm not just talking food and drinks. If you need REAL competition come game time or karaoke, holler at your girl." She added pointing to herself with a haughty shift of her shoulders.

The last bit got a huge amount of laughter from everyone at the table to your surprise. The guys especially seemed entertained by her cocky declaration. One guy promptly slapped a hundred dollar bill onto the table. 

"Alright Folaki. You and me! We'll play Punch-Out when I'm ready!" The dark haired guy said with a distinct accent. His blue eyes danced as he playfully scowled at your coworker thinking she would back down.

"Well, it’s your money. Don't say I didn't warn you." A confident Folaki responded before pulling out the work tablet from her apron.

"Well then, two hundred says Folaki whips your ass Ivar!" Another guy said as he too slammed money down.

This caused ruckus and chatter as the others also placed bets. As this was going on, Folaki leaned down to a muscular blonde guy to get drink instructions. You watched all of it totally unsure of what to do or say next. Boy, were you ever out of your element. While lost in your thoughts; as usual; you felt a tug on your apron.

"What are you daydreaming about?"

You looked down to see the attractive guy that had been staring at you earlier. He still had hold of the hem of you apron despite having gained your attention. Tilting his head slightly, he smirked at your uncomfortable expression.

"I...um, I'm so sorry. Uh, is there anything I can do for you sir?"

He seemed genuinely amused by your nervousness and chuckled a bit. The blonde chick at the table didn't seem as entertained though. You noticed that she had leaned over to whisper something to the brunette. The two women looked at you and inaudibly laughed which caused the back of your neck to get hot. 

You knew very well they were talking about you and it wasn't anything nice, of that you were certain. You composed yourself as best you could and turned your attention to the attractive guy again and waited for his order. As he pondered, you took out your tablet. 

Fiddling with it at least gave you a reason not to look at anyone. Especially the two bitches who kept eyeing you for whatever reason. 

"You don't have to be so formal you know. Take a note from your friend Folaki. We don't bite." The blue eyed guy said with an innocent raise of his eyebrow. 

"That is….unless you want us to. Isn't that right Hvitserk?" A curly haired blonde exclaimed as he put the guy you were speaking with into a playful choke-hold.

"Get off me Sigurd, you jackass! Can’t you see I'm trying to get drinks?" Hvisterk said as he tried to get out of the wrestling hold. 

Finally, when he had set himself free, he elbowed Sigurd and looked at you again. You noted that all of them had heavy accents but couldn't quite place the origin. 

"Can’t you see I'm trying to get drinks?" A voice mimicked Hvitserk. 

You looked to see a handsome man walk up. The blonde man was so striking that you almost lost your train of thought. His expressive eyes danced over you a moment before turning them to Hvisterk.

"Happy Birthday son. So, think you’re man enough to take me down yet?" The man said as he wrapped a strong arm around Hvitserk's neck.

For his part, Hvitserk was stronger than he looked. He managed to escape his father’s sturdy clutch and stood up. The two of them stared each other down for a few moments, sizing each other up. You shifted on your heels nervous about what was going to happen next. To your relief, the father opened his arms and Hvitserk quickly embraced him.

“Thank God.” You thought.The last thing you wanted to do was clean up the aftermath of a fight.

As you observed them all, you noted that these people were quite aggressive. Not only in their actions but manner of speaking as well. You only hoped that the alcohol wouldn’t make them worse before the night was done.

"Ragnar! Well, I guess the Gods do have a sense of humor after all.” A slender and tall woman nonchalantly said arriving at the table. I'm glad to see you could make it. I thought for certain that you weren't coming. I guess your warden let you out for a change."

She placed her hands on Sigurd's shoulders and gave an obviously fake smile to the man. A few of the guys at the table noticeably cringed at her words. You could feel the tension at the table now and wished you could go check on other party guests. However, you decided to stay put. After all, it would have been rude not to wait for Hvitserk’s order. Especially now that you knew he was the guest of honor.

Ragnar scowled at the woman a moment before popping on a great big smile to your amusment.

"I see you're as beautiful and charming as ever Aslaug. You can rest your mind now because as you can see, I am very much present for my son's party." He added a crooked smirk at the end which seemed to irritate the Aslaug.

"Politely bickering as usual, aye?" A tall man happily jeered. 

He patted Ragnar on the shoulder and waved to Aslaug to her obvious annoyance. With a fake smile still plastered on her face, she departed causing almost the entire table to sigh in relief.  

"Was it something I said?" The tall man mischievously asked aloud. 

Ragnar and the others laughed at his remark but one guy in particular remained stone-faced. It was the boisterous one that had bet on the arcade game against Folaki. You knew his name started with an “I” but just couldn't remember what it was.

"Uncle Floki, mother is very sensitive." He gently stated with sincerity. "We shouldn't make light of her concern for us all." He stressed. 

The Floki gentleman laughed harder as did Ragnar. Even the other guys; who were trying not to laugh; couldn't contain their snickers.

"Ivar, please! You mother is the last person anyone would ever describe as sensitive." The muscular blonde guy chimed in as he ate a tortilla chip. 

Everyone burst into laughter again as Ivar glared at all of them with the most intense eyes you had ever seen. He had a storm in them no doubt. There was definitely something uncontrollable and ominous hidden underneath his handsome facade.

"Bjorn, my dear brother, you wound me." Ivar said in an oddly calm tone. "My mother has been through a great deal. Perhaps you could be more, oh, I don't know, understanding? He leaned back into his chair as he continued. “After all, your mother did everything in her power to make sure she won father back. Now mother is all alone. So you see, she has every right to be sensitive." A stern Ivar concluded.

Bjorn rolled his eyes and without a word got up to talk to other people, you assumed. From your peripheral view you saw Folaki finish speaking to a group of people near the door before leaving the Blue Room. Most likely to fill orders. The tension was still quite thick when suddenly Ivar's eyes landed on you.

"Hey you!" He snapped. "Why are you just standing there? Do your damn job and fuck off!"

Boy, did you wish you were dead. Everyone turned their attention to you. The blonde chick seated near Sigurd and Hvitserk covered her mouth as she giggled loudly. The brunette smiled slightly but seemed uncomfortable by what had just occurred. If there was ever a time where you wished the ground could open up and swallow you whole, this was it.

"Ivar! That's uncalled for." Sigurd said in your defense. 

"Shut up Siggy. He turned from Sigurd and looked you square in the face. “She's a worker who's supposed to be fetching food and drink not standing around listening to private conversations." 

Ivar silently taunted you upon noticing that your eyes were welling with tears. You were trying so hard to hold them in but knew that they could begin dropping at any moment. Your hands gripped the tablet so hard you thought for sure you would crack it eventually. Ivar looked quite satisfied with himself for whatever reason and was smiling in victory at you. 

"Um, I...I'll go check on the catering and your other orders. If...uh, you need anything else I'll be back in a few minutes." You quickly said and turned on your heels as quickly as possible. 

You were so eager to leave the scene that you navigated through the packed party effortlessly. As you were leaving, you faintly heard your name being called but chose to ignore it. You had to get away from those people at the head table NOW!

"Air. I gotta have some fresh air!"

_________________________

Somehow you managed to get into the employee break room before the tears finally fell. The bitter saltiness hit your tongue as you wept uncontrollably.

“Why are some people such assholes?” You wondered.

After a few minutes, you managed to pull yourself together. You wiped your face with Kleenex tissues and looked yourself over in a large mirror. Aside from your eyeliner being smudged, you looked alright. However, the slight puffiness of your eyes did giveaway the fact that you had been crying. You powdered your face and reapplied you lipstick before tossing them back into your locker  

“Jerk! I should have cracked this damn tablet over his head." You said aloud as you sat down on the sofa. 

Placing the tablet on your lap, you checked on their order statuses. Despite everything, you didn't want to make trouble for Frankie by not doing your job well. As you were getting ready to go outside for fresh air your cell buzzed. When you looked and realized it was your parent’s number you decided to let it go to voicemail. After all, you had enough bad things occurring at the moment without your mom coming for round two. You went out into the club and past the main floor without stopping to speak to anyone. 

You made your directly towards the exit anticipating fresh air. You finally got it as you stepped out onto the busy sidewalk. The streets were full of pedestrians of all ages out for a good time. Observing them almost made you forget the humiliation you had just endured.

The city was affluent and safe so you were never surprised to see the preteens out and about as well. As a group of them passed by you, one girl handed you a giant pink lollipop. You smiled and thanked them as you leaned against a streetlight. The owner of the flower shop across the street; Ms. Zimmel; noticed you and waved. She was most likely out for her regular smoke break. Unlike most flower shops, she was smart enough to keep her store open late into the night. 

But then again the location was unique. There was always heavy foot traffic so naturally she made a killing much like the other businesses on that strip. As you waved back to Ms. Zimmel, you felt a light tap in your shoulder.

"Excuse me. Y/N, correct?"

You turned around and came face to face with the curly haired blonde who had defended you.

“Yeah, that’s right.”

"I don't mean to bother you but…oh, where are my manners. I'm Sigurd by the way." He said extending his hand.

At first you were apprehensive but he looked at you with kind eyes which made you relent and shake his hand. Pleased by your willingness to listen, he immediately continued speaking.

"My father asked me to come and apologize to you, as did my brother Hvitserk. He's the one we’re throwing the party for." He grinned.

"Thanks Sigurd. Look, don't worry about it. I...I'm a professional and I'm going to finish the event despite what happened." 

You replied looking down at the pavement so he couldn't see that you didn't believe your own words. In actuality, you had no desire to return to the Blue Room but, knew you had to. At least you received an apology despite it not being from creep who insulted you in the first place.

Almost like he read your mind, Sigurd stated that he was sorry that Ivar had not apologized. 

"Don't take it too personally though Y/N. When my brother does stuff like this…he NEVER apologizes.” Sigurd shook his head in a show of exasperation. “It's just unfortunate that you happened to be within his gaze at the wrong time."

His words seemed very genuine so you finally decided to look up at him again. As you did, you took notice of a taller blonde guy with a long ponytail walk up behind Sigurd. 

“What the hell are they? A rock band or something?” You wondered.

"So what devious little things is my little brother convincing you to do? Rob a bank, knock off a few liquor stores?"

The blonde guy roughly tussled Sigurd's hair triggering Sigurd to elbow him hard in response. 

"For your information Ubbe, I was just making sure our hostess was okay."

"Well, are you?" Ubbe asked with a twinkle in his light blue eyes. He looked you up and down in a peculiar manner but you pushed it out if your mind. 

"Yeah. Thanks um..."

“Ubbe.” Ubbe interrupted to provide you his name.

“Thanks Ubbe. I appreciate the concern.” You said with a faint smile.

"We Lothbroks are gentlemen for the most part. You'll see." Ubbe gave you a crooked smile that resembled his father's. "Well, shall we go in and do this party up or what?" He asked you.

You knew it was time to do your job despite your heart not really being in it. Besides Folaki needed you and that outweighed some jerk talking down to you.

"Okay. I'm ready."

 ___________________________

When you entered the Blue Room behind Sigurd and Ubbe, you made a bee-line towards Folaki who had just finished placing a massive tray of tequila shots on the table. In her other hand she balanced an equally large tray of lemons, limes and salt shakers. How she managed to be so skillful and coordinated, you would never know.

When you reached her side, you thought she was going to be angry that you had vanished without telling her where you were going, but she wasn’t.

“Everything okay Y/N?”

“Uh, yeah. I was actually about to ask you the same thing.” You replied a bit surprised at her concern.

She placed the other tray down and whispered that she had heard about your incident from the Hvitserk. He had even asked her to find you and make apologies but she was unable to locate you.

“Oh, that’s because I was outside. Thanks for telling me though.” You said as you tried to stealthily glance at Hvitserk.

He must have been looking at you already because your eyes met as soon as you turned your head. You felt like such a dork as the two of you looked at each other for a moment. After all, you had not intended on getting caught. Without breaking his glance, Hvitserk lifted his tequila shot up as if to toast you. As you watched him as if you were hypnotized, he took the shot and winked flirtatiously. 

The wink made you turn from him immediately. What you didn’t know was that the abrupt manner in which you turned away amused Hvitserk. He leaned over to laugh about it with Ubbe, Sigurd and his Uncle Floki.

“I think our other hostess is one of those shy types. It’s so different than what I’m accustomed to.” Hvitserk chuckled as he grabbed a lemon wedge and another shot of tequila from the tray.

Ubbe looked over at you and back to the guys. 

“Indeed. No one would ever describe our women as shy.” Ubbe said with another glance in your direction.

Sigurd nodded his head in agreement and took a shot. Hvitserk took another shot and stated that he found it fascinating to interact with a woman who wasn’t aggressive. Ivar rolled his eyes at their conversation but said nothing. He was too busy trying to keep the blonde girl; now seated next to him; from giving him a hickey.

“We’re at a party with my family. Control yourself woman!” He commanded as she playfully leaned on him and stroked his cheek.

“But you said you liked it when I’m the initiator. Besides, I’m bored.” She cooed in a phony erotic tone.

The brunette girl swigged down her tequila and bit her lemon wedge. After she threw the peel down, she looked at the blonde.

“What my cousin means to say, Ingrid, is that it’s all good and well when we’re hanging out but not with our parents and extended family around. I mean, it’s kinda gross.” The brunette added with a bit of irritation in her voice.

“Whatever Tonna. Unlike you, I am not afraid of public displays of affection...or what people think about me for that matter.” Ingrid replied with pride.

Tonna, wanted to say something else but decided against it. She instead turned to chat with Ubbe. The fair-haired Ingrid snuggled her head on Ivar’s shoulder who, for whatever reason was scowling at you. 

He watched as you served some attendees and then arrive back at the head table. Folaki had gone to speak with the caterers about the cake so you were on your own.

“Hey everyone.” You said softly. “The food is going to be served soon but I wanted to know-”

“Louder! For the love of Odin, who exactly is supposed to hear anything you’re trying to say?” Ivar bellowed.

Your heart started beating rapidly as you tried to remain calm. You had hoped that the asshole was done harassing you for the night but obviously he wasn’t. A drunk Floki; who was standing behind Ivar; shook his head as he patted the young man’s shoulder. It was his silent way of telling his nephew to take it easy.

“Don’t pay him any mind, my dear. He’s just having a bit of fun with you.” A jovial Floki said.

“Fun? This is the little bastard’s idea of fun?” You thought.

Ivar’s sinister glare didn’t diminish. You could literally feel his intimidating energy all over your body despite avoiding looking in his direction.

“I, I was saying that, if there’s anything you need before I go check on your guests, please-”

“This must be the work of Loki! I mean, this can’t be real. Seriously, were you a death-mute when you were younger Y/N?” Ivar cupped his hand to his ear as if he was struggling to hear you. “Speak up!”

Everyone watched to see what your reaction was going to be. Naturally some were laughing because the liquor had kicked-in with the exception of Sigurd, Hvitserk and Ubbe. Ubbe especially, was over Ivar’s behavior. As he sipped his rum and coke, he glared at his younger brother. Despite giggling a little bit, even their cousin Tonna seemed to feel a bit sorry for you. She hit her cousin’s shoulder and told him to stop.

Remorseless, Ivar shrugged his shoulders and acted stunned that she would defend you.

“What cousin?” He said innocently. “Do you not see that she isn’t made for this? Hun er en skæftig mus! (Danish: She’s a timid mouse!) You can tell she’s never been popular.” He impishly looked at you. ”Isn’t that right mus?”

You felt like someone had exposed you. As if his words had left you naked in front of everyone. You were angry and sad all at the same time. It was a familiar mixture of emotions you hadn’t felt since moving to your apartment. Your mind flashed with images of your youth and college years. It was just a blur of bad memories.

“Look at her. She’s like a deer in headlights.” A pleased Ivar said as he swigged his tequila down.

A dark haired guy placed his hand on your shoulder snapping you out of your daydream.

“Apologies, my dear. I’m afraid he gets quite temperamental when he drinks. To answer your question, we are in need of several pints of beer. Guinness, if you please.”

“Tell her to make some of them extra stout, Alfred.” A drunk Ragnar said as he walked past the two of you.

“Well, I suppose you heard my Godfather’s request.” Alfred laughed. 

You were just about to do as Alfred had asked when Ivar’s voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Hey, Y/N! Not only are you apparently quite incompetent at your job but daft as well. Look, I’ll spell if for you. B E E R! ” He wrinkled his nose at you and furrowed his eyebrows like a mischievous child. “Now.......fetch!”

Ivar continued drinking his beer and chuckling at the same time. His amusement at your expense was bad enough but commanding you as if you were a dog pissed you off. At that moment in time, his smug face and chuckling was all you could see. It simply pushed you over the edge. And that’s when it happened.  

You don’t know why you did it, but you did something you didn’t know you were capable of. After all, you were always nice even in the worst of situations. But not this time. You snatched the commemorative beer horn out of a stunned Alfred’s hand. In a heartbeat, you leaned past a tattoo-faced man and poured all of the horn’s contents on Ivar. 

Ingrid, the blonde chick, must have perceived what you were about to do because she moved quickly enough from Ivar’s shoulder that only a few drops hit her.

Cold, dark beer washed over his head, face and down his upper body before he even realized what was happening. You didn’t stay to see his reaction, or anyone else’s for that matter. Still clutching the beer horn, you rushed towards to exit of the Blue Room as quickly as your pumps would allow. You heard the great ruckus behind you but didn’t turn around. If you weren’t imagining things, you could swear it sounded like applause and laughter.

In the Blue Room, the word of what you did spread like wildfire. The men especially got a huge kick out of your actions. The reason for their admiration of your actions was due to whom Ivar was. Not that the other men in his family weren’t feared but Ivar was another story altogether. Despite being the youngest Lothbrok, he was as savage as he was cunning. And when it came to him dishing out cruelty, let’s just say no one had ever given a dose of his own medicine.

“You deserved it, Ivar.” A tipsy Hvisterk said to his brother who was being dried off by Ingrid. 

The blonde was going on and on about how you would be fired once your boss got word. As she continued to dry him the best she could, Ivar stood motionless with a scowl that could kill. If you had been there, he may have very well done so.

“We should complain to her supervisor as soon as possible.” Ingrid suggested wiping Ivar’s hair with a towel your coworker Folaki had provided. 

Despite knowing what you had done, Folaki was keeping it to herself. She knew you needed time away from everyone so worked the floor herself. Since the food was already being served by catering, she didn’t have to do anything except serve drinks.That was something she could do with her eyes closed so she kept working hoping you were alright.

It didn’t take long for Aslaug, their mother, to rush over to the head table. She looked at her son Ivar with shock. Almost as if she thought the story about a hostess pouring beer on her son had been a lie. Without asking, she snatched the towel from Ingrid’s hand and continued drying Ivar’s hair herself.

Hvitserk wasn’t going to watch his mother dote over Ivar when he was in the wrong. He stood up and in his typical quiet manner, began to walk away. 

“Son, I hope this didn’t ruin your party.” Aslaug said as she finished drying Ivar’s hair.

“Of course not mother. I’m just going to mingle with some of our guests. After all, I can’t sit at the head table all night.” He added glaring at Ivar.

Ivar was unfazed. He wasn’t a stupid man and knew very well what his brother was implying my the look he gave. Despite what Hvitserk or anyone else thought, Ivar simply didn’t see anything wrong with his actions. In his eyes, you were the only one in the wrong and that was then end of it as far as he was concerned. 

Floki; who was seated nearby with his wife Helga; knew you were in trouble. All the enjoyment everyone got out of Ivar’s comeuppance most likely increased his rage towards you. 

“Ivar, let us see if we can do this without making the poor girl lose her job.” Floki leaned and whispered in his nephew’s ear.

But Ivar’s mind was made up. He didn’t process things like most people so you would have to make amends. What that was, even he didn’t know what he wanted from you just yet. But he knew he wanted you to grovel.

“If I am satisfied that she is remorseful Uncle, then fine. But if not, she can live on the streets for all I care.” He looked at Floki with a very sedated expression. “She would learn what happens when you don’t think of the consequences of your actions.

“You’re one to talk.” Bjorn said taking a seat with a massive beer mug in hand.

“No one was speaking to you, brother. I was the one offended and I will deal with it as I see fit!” Ivar replied with flared nostrils.

“Why don’t we all just have some more drinks first.” Harald Finehair suggested as he got Folaki’s attention. He asked her to bring bottles of a strong liquor called Akvavit.  

It was a smart move on Harald’s part. He and his brother Halfdan knew that if they let Ivar keep going on, he would only wind himself up even more. They had seen what he was capable of in his moments of blind rage and didn’t feel like seeing any of it that evening.

____________________________________

In the breakroom, you had been seated on the floor by your locker for what seemed like forever. You were still shocked about everything. If the beer horn hadn’t been laying by your side, you wouldn’t have believed that you had poured beer on a patron.

“That little shit! Now I’m going to lose my job. I should have held it together better.” You vented. “I shouldn’t have let him push my buttons like that.”

You decided not to delay the inevitable. You knew you had to face the music and there was no use in hiding in the breakroom. Because sooner or later, the word was going to spread to Frankie. As you stepped out of the breakroom, you almost crashed into Jason. He was one of the nicest people at your workplace and the two of you hit if off from day one. He was Jewish but he would always  inform everyone that he wasn’t a “practicing Jew”.  Whatever that meant. The two of you were pretty close so naturally he took the opportunity to tease you about working your first private party.

“So, virgin, how’s it going so far? Was it all you thought your first time would be?” He joked.

You hesitated a moment before you ran down the whole story about being harassed all night and what you did prior to hiding in the breakroom.

“Well, personally, it sounds like he deserved that shit. You should have hit him with the beer horn too.”

You burst into laughter at Jason’s response. His funny remark actually made you feel better than you had all night. 

“Look, if they try to get you in trouble with Frankie, I’ll go to bat for you.” Jason said giving you a quick hug. “Now, let me go check on my VIP’s”

With that, the two of you went your separate ways. Since you had made up your mind to tell Frankie everything yourself, you began walking towards the main floor of the club. 

I’ll just tell Frankie everything and hope for the best.” You thought. “One thing’s for sure, I won’t apologize. Jason is totally right. That guy deserved even worse!”

As you turned left into one of the corridors near the private party rooms, you were caught off-guard by a sight that made your heart sink.

You saw the man you were wishing death and all other types of natural disasters upon headed in your direction. You weren’t sure if he had been trying to find your boss or another manager but you suddenly didn’t care. All your anger dissipated as you watched him wince with each step he took. You just felt terrible for what you had done now that you saw his true condition. Having grown up with a cousin who was Autistic, you had a real soft spot for people with disabilities.

Despite the numerous people in the corridor, Ivar’s blue eyes somehow found you. Clearing your throat you approached him quickly so he wouldn’t have to walk any further. As soon as you were in front of him, his eyes darkened and his expression was that of a man who could strike you down on the spot.

“Y/N! You have some nerve! You think you could embarrass me and just walk away? Well, you’re--”

“I’m sorry.”

Ivar’s voice broke as you interrupted him. He looked at you with confusion and anger. Regardless, he was taken aback.

“What I did was beyond unprofessional. It was also very rude to do that to you in front of your family and friends.” You added.

He looked at you for a little while before he finally said that he wanted you to apologize to him in front of everyone at the party. 

“You did it publicly so you can apologize publicly.” He added.

“Okay. It seems like the right thing to do.” You replied.

Ivar scoffed as he began walking towards the Blue Room again. 

“Right thing to do?” He echoed your words. “Are you always so eager to make amends Y/N?” He looked at you as he took his painful steps. “Should I assume you to be a pushover?”

Your actually pondered his question for a moment instead of getting mad. In actuality, your friends back home had always accused you of being a pushover despite them being the one’s who took advantage of you most.

“I’m not a pushover.” You asserted to his amusement. 

“Sure. A smirking Ivar said. “Is that why you apologized without me even speaking to your boss?”

Since he was actually somewhat correct, you said nothing. The rest of the walk to the Blue Room was silent. Ivar didn’t say anything else and you felt that you had pushed your luck with him far enough for one night. 

_________________________________

When you entered the Blue Room, the party was in full swing. People were having too good of a time to pay any attention to the two of you. Everyone except Hvitserk, who swiftly made his way over to see what Ivar was up to.

“What’s going on here?” He looked at you and then to Ivar.

Ivar rolled his eyes without giving response. He instead grabbed a cocktail off the tray a passing Folaki was holding. She locked eyes with you briefly as if to wish you luck before disappearing into the crowd.

“I’m going to give an apology to your guests...and Ivar.” You answered.

“What?” A displeased Hvitserk looked at Ivar. “Why are you making her do this?”

“No. Listen, it was my idea.”It wasn’t your idea of course, but you could tell that the two brothers differed on how you should make amends. “I crossed the line. After all, it’s my duty to remain professional no matter what’s going on.” You assured him.

As you tried to walk past the two brothers to go find a microphone, you felt a strong hand grasp your arm. You turned around to see a smug Ivar leaning on his crutch and holding your arm with his free hand. He then looked at Hvitserk who seemed as confused as you were. With his eyes still on his brother, Ivar spoke to you.

“Y/N, it is okay. Now that I think about it, the apology in the hallway will suffice.” He said letting go of your arm.

You had no clue as to why he had changed his mind but whatever the reason was, you were grateful. 

“Thank you so much...Ivar. And you as well Hvitserk.” You began walking in the direction of Folaki. “If you two are okay for the moment, I’m going to help Folaki. Let me know if you need anything.”

Hvisterk watched you walk away until he could no longer see you which, of course, didn’t go unnoticed by Ivar.

"Enjoying the view brother?”

A blushing Hvitserk shook his head and popped a potato chip in his mouth so he wouldn’t have to give Ivar an answer.

[imaginexxharry]

Prince Harry (part 4)

Part 1:  https://imaginexxharry.tumblr.com/post/168129211274/prince-harry-in-which-yn-is-the-princess-of

 Part 2: https://imaginexxharry.tumblr.com/post/168266725854/prince-harry-part-2

 Part 3: https://imaginexxharry.tumblr.com/post/168407263609/prince-harry-part-3 p>

  In which Y/N is the Princess of Scotland and Harry is the Prince of England. They have both been engaged to marry ever since they were young, as part of an alliance between both countries. But prince Harry might now be as welcoming to the idea of marriage. When danger strikes Y/N must go to England, and be with Harry. The weight of two kingdoms are on Y/N and Harrys shoulders.

 (I just started watching this show called Reign, so this story is kind of based off that. I would recommend watching it!!)

 GET READY FOR SOME ANGST AND DRAMA HAHA

 —

To get your mind off everything, you did the only thing you could do which was to go for a ride. You didn’t have much privacy in the castle to begin with, except your chambers. But even that was heavily guarded all the time. Even now as you walk to the stables to get a horse, a guard stood a few feet away from you.

Anytime you felt down or upset you would go riding. It’s a great distraction that makes you feel better for at least a little while. Back home in Scotland you had your own horse named buttercup. You laugh at the name now, but when you were seven that’s what you wanted to name it. She was your favorite horse, and the thought of leaving her behind back in Scotland made you heart hurt. Hopefully someone is taking good care of her.

As you stepped into the stables you saw plenty of horses you could pick from. But your eyes saw the one you wanted. It was a black horse, as dark as twilight. But it’s mane was a blinding white, like the snow. The contrasts of the colors made you walk over to it. You gently touched its head and the horse softly sighed.

“This one” You said to Jeremy, one of your guards as you pointed to the beautiful horse.

He looked at the horse and frowned, “ This one is a wild spirit, sometimes doesn’t listen to the riders commands. She could be quiet difficult to ride, madam.” Jeremy told you. You sighed in frustration. Jeremy was one of your most trusted guards and someone you have known ever since you could remember. But you knew he’s only following his orders, to make sure you don’t get hurt but you knew how to ride. You were tired of people treating you like you couldn’t handle a little difficulty.

“I order you, to bring this horse and get it ready for me to ride.” You told him sternly. You knew he couldn’t go against your orders, and you almost feel bad for talking so hard with him. But non the less he nodded his head.

“Whatever you wish madam.” He said and started untying the horse, and get the saddle for you.

You walked out of the stable and sat down waiting for him to bring the horse out. You looked out into the distance and saw the castle, and the memories of last night flooded your mind. You didn’t want to remember it. You wished you never went out on the balcony to get some air.

But than you would of never known of Harry’s true intentions? Your subconscious tells you.

Which is true, but Ignorance is bliss at times. But now that you know, you understand that Harry never even for a second saw you as anything more than a political piece. To keep his country strong, with you  by his side. It was pretty messed up how you even thought for a second this could possible work out nicely.

Maybe you should just talk to him? Your brain tells you again.

The problem is you didn’t want to face Harry, you couldn’t. You just felt completely embarrassed to know that you started developing feelings for him, but he fancies another. And you almost didn’t blame him, she was beautiful. You were stupid to even think for one second, this was going to be easy. The royal family and politics isn’t easy, it never was.

You heard the horror stories of arrange marriages, they are very common especially in the royal family. But with you and Harry aren’t only marrying each other, but two countries marrying one another because of the alliance.

But then you had this nagging feeling that you had no right to be upset with Harry. Just  because you never had a relationship with another, doesn’t mean Harry didn’t. You understood the hypocrisy of male and female roles in society. If a women sleeps with another than her virtue is gone, and she is looked down upon. But for men it doesn’t even matter because they’re men. You could be jumping to conclusions, but you knew Harry wasn’t saving himself until marriage. Seeing how him and that girl touched each other was evident.

But the problem is that, even if you and Harry hadn’t really talked about it. The fact that he kissed another with you his fiancé, a door away showed how he really had any respect for you.

By kissing your cheek, dancing with you, showering you with compliments, pretending to actually be interested in you,  and showing you off to the noble for political gain. Than in the next second sneaking off the kiss another women, was disrespectful.

And being a princess you never felt that kind of disrespect before, you always had it. And if there’s no respect in a relationship, how is it going to function successfully?

But even in marriage it was common for men to have another women in his life, a mistress. The word itself makes you want to throw up. You never wanted that to happen.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the hooves of the horse coming towards you. Jeremey held the rein that were connected to the horse as he walked to were you were sitting. You looked up and saw two horses he was guiding. The horse you picked out, and another and you frowned in confusion.

“Why are there two horses?” You asked.

“I’m going to have to ride behind you, it’s orders to ensure your safety madam.” Jeremy explained as he got the horses to stand in place, preparing to ride them.

You wanted to argue, but you knew you couldn’t because he was right because it is his duty to protect you at all cost.

“Fine, But don’t follow too close behind.” You told him and he nodded his head. You loved Jeremy like a brother but you sometimes thought your guards were a bit overbearing. But in the end you knew they were just doing there job.

You walked up the the horse you wanted to ride, and placed your hand on the saddle as you put your foot through the stirrup. You attempted to lift yourself up on the horse, but your dress was getting caught. You attempted it again and you almost slid of,  but caught yourself. You huffed in frustration maybe it has been awhile since you rode a horse.

You were about to try again when you felt a pair of hands wrap around your waist, and push you up onto the horse gently. You looked down once you were secured on the horse and saw Jeremy.

“Thank you.”

“Your welcome.” He said and then  quickly hopped onto the horse like it was nothing.

“Do you have a certain destination in mind, your grace?” He says from behind you as your horses started walking away from the stables..

“No not really, I’m just gonna go along the path.” You didn’t hear if Jeremy responded because when when you signaled your horse to speed up by moving the rein all you could hear was the wind in your ears.

Your hair was flying in the wind as you galloped on the horse, and you never felt more alive in a long time. You felt like you were part of nature, you felt at peace. You moved your rein to the right to make the horse turn to head towards the river you remembered as a little girl.

This area was still owned by the castle, but not many ever go to this side. You use to ride out here when you were little with Harry. You didn’t know why you wanted to come here after everything that has happened. But the old memories you had were still very happy, and that’s what you needed right now.

As you go closer to the river you looked behind you to see if Jeremy was still following you, but you didn’t see him which was odd. You didn’t think you were  going that fast. Well He would catch up eventually.

You steadied the horse to stop, so you could get off. You had a bit of difficulty getting off the horse, but you eventually fell off and landing straight on your bum.

“Ouch” you yelled while rubbing your back side, maybe you should of kept up with the horse training your mother always insisted you do. Brushing off the dirt from your dress you stood up and walked to the river. It was as clear as day and as blue as the sky. You could hear the sound as the  water flowed down the river and it calmed you to know end.

It was times like this that you missed the solitude of Scotland and feeling calm. You had nothing to worry about back than, but now it’s like the whole world has changed. Your world.

All you wanted right now was for your mother to be here, to give you advice and tell you what to do. You really couldn’t talk about your situation with anyone else because in the end they wouldn’t get it.

The truth is you had no idea when you would ever see your mother again, she promised she would write to you. But you haven’t received anything yet which worried you to know end.

But you knew what she would tell you, and you knew what you had to do.

You had to do what was best for the country. You had to make sure that Scotland was your first priority. You couldn’t be blinded by anything else, but your duty to do what’s best.

You laid your head on the grass and closed your eyes, to try and ease your mind and your heart.

But your moment of peace was disrupted when you heard something.

The sound of something moving in the trees caused you and your horse to look towards that direction. You thought it was nothing until you heard it again and the trees started moving. You saw the horse starting to move it’s feet like it was about to move.

The realization hit you that you forgot to tie up it’s rein so he wouldn’t run off. You quickly ran to the horses side to get it to stay still by grabbing it’s rein. The horse started backing up and neighing when a group of squirrels flew from the trees.

“Woah boy, woah! Stand down!” You tried to get the horse from running off but the rein in your hand was pulled by the horse, and it slipped from your hand. Causing you to fall backwards as the horse got loose and started running in the opposite direction.

Once you were back up on your feet you tried to run after him but it was too late, he was too far gone.

You cursed yourself for being so stupid and careless to not even tie up the horse to ensure he was secured. You were so wrapped up in your thoughts to Notice. But usually horses don’t get that frightened when they see squirrels, and they listen when you call them back.

“Maybe Jeremy was right.” You recalled him saying this horse was a wild spirit, and didn’t listen.

“What was that madam?” You turned around quickly and saw him riding his horse a few feet away from you.

“So You finally were able to catch up?” You said ignoring the fact that you had no horse.

“Yes, you were pretty quick on that horse. Speaking of it where has it gone?” He asked looking around confused.

“I, um well he ran off because he saw squirrels.” You told him.

“Oh that’s odd…”

“And because I may have accidentally forgot to tie him up” Jeremy was trying to hide his amusement in his face so he just nodded.

“Well we should better get back to the castle we’ve been gone for quite awhile.” You nodded your head he was right it was getting late.

You walked over to his horse, as he took his hand out for you to hold to help you get up. You took it and brought your leg over the saddle and sat behind Jeremy.

“Hold on tight, I’m going to be riding a bit faster to get back before dinner.” Jeremy said. You nodded and wrapped your hands around his waist and laid your head on his back to make sure you don’t fall off.

“Let’s go boy!” Jeremy said as he hit the horse with his foot, and you guys were off back to the castle.

—-

Once you both got back to the castle, you were exhausted from all that riding that you almost fell asleep on the ride back. You didn’t realize that Jeremy was trying to speak to you because you were half asleep.

“Your grace?” Jeremy said again and turned around to you. You opened your eyes and realized you were back at the castle instead of the stables.

“Why aren’t we at the stables? We have to return the horse.” You asked almost disappointed that you came back here so soon. You were by the east wing of the castle where carriages come through.

“You seem exhausted, so I decided to bring you back to the castle as soon as possible. The stable boys are coming to return the horse..” You thanked him and than realized that you were still holding onto his waist and your face turned a shade pink.

The side doors from the castle opened and you presumed it was the stable boys who had come to take the horse back to its stables.

You cleared your throat and quickly untangled your hands from his waist. He stepped down first from the horse. Once it was your turn he gently grabbed your waist and brought you back down on the ground.

“Thank you, Jeremy. I really appreciate your help this trip. You probably want to say I told you so though?” You laughed.

Jeremy tried to hide his grin, “It was an honest mistake for you to not tie the horse. I will tell the stable boy to go out looking for him. He will be returned to his family safely don’t worry madam.” He told you as he let go of your waist.

You heard the stable boy clear his throat. So you finally turned around to give him his order for the night. But when you faced away from Jeremy you realized that it wasn’t the stable boy who was there this whole time, but Harry.

“Where have you been these last hours?” Harry asked you  sternly, his expression on his face was cold.

“I went out for a ride.” You told him.

“You should have informed us and the guards before you would be out for such a long period of time. It’s not safe.” Harry said while coming towards you.

“I did, I brought Jeremey my guard along with me.” You pointed at Jeremy who was behind you, and for some reason when Harry looked at him,It looked like he was throwing daggers with his eyes.

“You need to inform me, every time you want to leave the castle.” He said sternly, you scoffed at his suggestion.

“No I do not that’s ridiculous. Having my guards with me is enough, I don’t need your permission.” You told him without breaking eye contact.

“Now if you’ll excuse me Jeremy and I need to find the stable boy to return this horse to the stable.” You looked over at Jeremy who was a bit dumbfounded that the princes was standing right here. But he took the horses rein in his hand and started walking to the back of the castle to find the stable boy, and you started to walk with him.

“Jeremy leave us at once.” Harry commanded and you looked at him like he was out of his mind.

“No Jeremy is my guard, so he is under my command and I say he comes with me. I am his princess.” You told Harry.

Jeremy looked between you too and didn’t know what to do. He knew that he follows  Y/N’s orders but this was the Prince of England he was talking too, and he didn’t want to be punished.

“I am the prince of England. You are in my home, my territory, and under my rule so I command you to leave us at once. I will not say it again.” Harry commanded by using his power to belittle your own. But you knew Jeremy couldn’t go against Harry or he would get in trouble.

So Jeremy followed his orders, “ Yes my prince.” Jeremy bowed to him and you and walked away with the horse, leaving you and Harry by yourself.

Once Jeremy was out of sight you didn’t stay to talk with Harry. You started walking away from him ignoring as he called your name.

Harry finally caught up to you and grabbed your hand to make you face him.

“What is the matter with you Y/N?” Harry said like what he just did was perfectly normal.

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you Harry? Why did you just do that to MY guard?” You said when you finally looked at him. He looked hurt when you said that and you didn’t understand why. But that emotion turned into anger.

“I have the right to do that. He is under my rule, since I am the Prince of England he bows to me.” He said spoken like a power hungry prince.

“I am his princess and the princess of England so-“

“Soon to be. You are not the princess of England yet.” He informs you. Since you were only engaged it is true you are still only the Princess of Scotland.

You had totally forgot you were still outside, until you felt the breeze through your hair. You looked around you and realized the sun was setting, and it was pretty windy.

“And I don’t want him to be your guard anymore. I am assigning one of my own guards as yours to replace him.” Harry said nonchalantly.

“Why are you being like this? Jeremy has been one of my trusted  guards ever since I was a girl, and had always protected me and served me successfully.” You couldn’t believe he was acting so cruel, when the day before he was kind.

“He is not fit to be your guard anymore. He made that evident today.”

“You weren’t even with us today. He wouldn’t even let me ride on my own for my own protection. And when my horse ran off he brought me  back to the castle safely.” You told him the facts and by every word you spoke he seemed to get more annoyed.

“You are wrong Harry. Jeremy is a good guard”

“A good guard isn’t suppose to have a close relationship with the person they are suppose to protect!” Harry raised his voice at you for the first time ever, which caught you off guard.

“Harry you’re  being ridiculous-“

“I saw you two today, a guard is not suppose to touch a Princess without any reason too.”

“He was helping me get down from the horse harry! Jesus Christ, your over exaggerating..”

“I have made up my mind. I am done having this conversation.” He completely dismisses your reasoning.

“So what I’m just powerless to you, am I?” You ask Harry with your voice low and on the verge of breaking.

Harry looks at you and when he sees the state your in, a flash of remorse goes through his eyes but than it was gone. You quickly turn away and wipe the tear that escaped your eyes. You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction in seeing you cry. Crying shows weakness and you are not week.

“I have made my decision. You could either support it, or not. But it doesn’t change the fact. It’s not wrong of me to not want another man touching my fiancé.” Harry said trying to justify his actions when you scoffed.

“Wow, that’s rich coming from you Harry!” You couldn’t even believe what he was saying. The amount of hypocrisy he was feeding you was unbelievable. So you couldn’t even let another man touch you at of kindness.. But Harry can kiss another girl with affection and he isn’t in the wrong.

“What is that suppose to mean?” He asked looking confused.

“Oh why don’t you go ask that red hair women you were kissing last night. Do you remember? It might be a blur but it was right after you danced with me, and almost kissed me. Is it jogging your memory?” You spat out the words you’ve been holding in all day. Harry’s whole body went rigid and his face turned pale.

“Maybe if I paint a picture for you? You were in the garden, oh look that one over there.” You pointed to the exact spot he was the night before. You took his hand a brought him to the location where he was trying to hide that night.

“You were right here by the statue, with her. While I sat waiting for almost an hour waiting for you to come back to me. But instead here you were.” You came closer to Harry  while looking around the garden, you looked up to see the balcony where you stood on watching what Harry was doing in secret.

“So don’t you dare tell me that you are upset about Jeremy, when he was just doing his job. When you were here with her doing far worst.” Harry hadn’t said a word all he did was listen to you and stood there.

“You know Harry I didn’t expect much from our arrangement, but at least having some respect for it was something I thought was mutual.” You said telling him the truth.

“But you know what who cares, because our engagement is only business Isn’t it? It’s only for the alliance and for our countries. So feeling shouldn’t even matter. Right?

“Y/N…” Harry finally said and attempted to take your hand in his, but you pushed him away.

“Don’t you touch me Harry. I might have had respect for you once, but after what you did I don’t.” You told him with a strong voice and once you saw his head drop in shame you turned away from him.

He called after you as you walked back into the castle, but you ignored him

But you couldn’t help the small pain you felt in your heart to see Harry hurt, even if he was in the wrong.

–

Soooo what do you guys think?? Is Harry jealous?? Do you think he regrets his actions?? Tell me what you think in my inbox so we can all chat! Who wants a part 5?? ALSO THANK YOU FOR 2K FOLLOWERS THAT’S CRAZY! What should I do for reaching this milestone, I was thinking about finally getting around to making a masterlist, but I want to do more. What do you guys think inbox me!

[distant-rose-archive-blog]

Could you write a continuation of skin contact with CS?

I am going to say this now, I don’t normally handle or answer requests this fast, but I’m still high on this idea and I can’t get it out of my head. Like I want to work on my next prompt, but this one won’t leave me alone. So, yeah, I’ve written a continuation of Skin Contact, this time with Emma. So this is Skin Contact Part 2 and 2,500+ words of it.

When Killian arrived in Storybrooke the first time, one of the things he marveled at was modern plumbing, whether for the toilet or the shower. The ability to just pull a lever or turn a knob and control the flow of water had been something just short of miraculous to him. He had always done his best to bath regularly before, but it had been more of a mundane chore than a luxurious exercise; now it was not only easy but also pleasurable and Emma had nearly killed him for his constant and prolonged use of hot water.

It wasn’t until he took a shower for the firsttime days after his son’s birth that he realized that he had become very accustomed to the World Without Magic and that he had taken something so fantastic for granted. The water pounded away the aches in his back, washing away the grime and filth off of him. His muscles calmed and warmth enveloped his bones. He felt like a person again, rather than the barely functioning subhuman he had become.

He was exhausted, more so than he ever remembered being in his entire life. His son had been brought into the world five days ago and he wasn’t sure he or Emma had slept a full minute since. In fact, this shower was probably the first time he had been actually alone in the past few days as he, his wife and stepson had scrambled and struggled to care for the child - an incredibly small and defenseless creature who really had no true way of communicating his needs, which was more nerve wrecking than Killian cared to admit.

The second he turned off the water and briskly toweled off, Killian felt the tiredness creep back in and he sighed in resignation. He had been warned that the first few weeks were the worst but he hadn’t at all been prepared for this. Nothing David, Belle or the countless books he had read could accurately describe the level of sleep deprivation, anxiety and panic that had come with bringing Harrison home.

With more consideration than Killian has ever given, he slowly and quietly opened the door that led to his and Emma’s bedroom, hoping and praying to the gods that he would wake his son, who had been put to bed just before his shower. However, he soon discovered his thoughtful attempt was in vain because the child was awake and feeding away at his mother’s breast. The sight made him smile softly, or did it until he saw Emma’s expression and all joy melted away.

Emma, who was leaning against the headboard of their bed in only a pair of athletic shorts, was visibly shaking with tears leaking down her cheeks. Her teeth were dug painfully into her bottom lip as if she were doing her best to hold back a cry. Big purple bruises sagged under the corners of her eyes, reminding Killian that she had gotten just as little sleep as he had.

“Love, are you alright?” he asked cautiously as he approached, more focused on her than on dressing.

“No,” she croaked. “I’m not.”

“What’s wrong?” Killian practically sprinted over, not caring as he dropped his towel and headed over to her side. After everything they had been through, he wasn’t going to waste time on false modesty.

“Everything,” she sniffed. “Everything is wrong, Killian. I have no idea what I’m doing. I don’t even remember what day it is. Every part of me is sore. My lady parts looked like American Horror Story: Birth Edition and feel like it too. Breastfeeding fucking sucks. I want to punch my mother in the face for suggesting otherwise because my nipples feel like they’re going to fall off because they hurt so much! Harrison won’t stop eating. Literally will not stop. The doctor said he should be eating every one or two hours, it’s been every forty-five minutes! He won’t leave my boob alone! He’s probably punishing me because I broke him! We shouldn’t have done this.”

As she finished her tirade, more tears leaked from the corners of her eyes and Killian was more than certain that she was on her way to having a complete and total meltdown of epic proportions and he wasn’t sure he couldn’t handle both a crying Emma and a crying Harrison at the same time. He might cry himself.

“Hey, hey, hey. Shhh..” Killian placed his hand on her cheek, thumbing away the wayward tears that were running down her face. “Hey…we’re five days into this. Give yourself a break. You did not break our son.”

“The broken collarbone says otherwise,” Emma replied stubbornly, looking down at the arm that they had put in a makeshift sling.

“It happens. The doctor said so,” he tried to reassure her. “Broken bones heal. Just give it time. He won’t even remember it when he’s older.”

“I know that,” Emma snapped. “But still, I feel like I failed him. I’ve had him for five days and I failed him.”

“Not at all,” Killian disagreed. “He’s doing great and you’re doing great.”

The babe in question did not look unhappy at all. In fact, he was incredibly focused on finishing his meal and seemed completely unaware of his mother’s distress. Killian itched to put his hand on top of his son’s dark head and feel the soft downey hair underneath his fingers, but he didn’t want to interrupt his feeding.

“He shouldn’t be eating this much,” Emma replied stubbornly. “It’s literally nonstop.”

“He’s a big lad. Naturally he wants to eat more. Big body, big appetite. He’s just growing. Nothing to be worried about.”

“I’m well aware how big he is,” Emma snipped, glaring at him with tired eyes. “I pushed him out. Like a fucking watermelon out of my vagina. Remember?”

“It’s not something I’m likely to forget,” Killian muttered, holding back a grimace.

Whoever suggested childbirth was a beautiful miracle needed to be hit upside the head in Killian’s opinion. Birth was a battle, complete with blood, gore and shit. If he had been a lesser man, he would have left the room. But he had stayed through the blood, the screaming and even through Emma defecating while pushing Harrison out because his wife and son were worth it.

Harrison let out a whimper as he unlatched himself from Emma’s breast, squirming in her hold. Emma let a sigh of relief.

“Are you done, kid?” she asked, giving the boy a light poke on the cheek.

“Give him here. He needs to be burped. I’ll take care of him,” Killian said gently.

Emma handed over their son all too readily and Killian cradled him close with his bad arm as he knelt down to grab his neglected towel and carelessly dropped it over his shoulder. As gently as he could, he laid his son against him and began to rub against his back rhythmically. He leaned his head down a bit so that his cheek rubbed against Harrison’s black hair, meeting Emma’s eyes over his son’s head. Emma was watching them with drooping eyes, looking she was about to fall asleep.

When he finished successfully burping his son, he dropped the soiled towel into the hamper and returned to the bed.

“Budge over,” Killian commanded softly, gesturing for Emma move over.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting into bed,” Killian explained as if it was obvious.

“But you’re all wet and naked,” Emma protested.

“I’ve never heard you complain before,” he teased as he handed Harrison back to her and crawled beside her.

“Yeah, but I literally changed these sheets like thirty minutes ago and as I said before, my lady parts are doing a wonderful horror movie rendition. Probably will for a good few weeks. Just pushed out your kid, remember?”

“Relax, Swan. I’m not looking for anything. I’m more than aware what’s going on with your ‘lady parts’ as you so adeptly put it. No need to worry on that front.”

Emma gave him an unimpressed look as she cradled Harrison against her bare chest and begrudgingly moved to accommodate him. Once he was settled, he reached for her. Emma stiffened, giving him a very perplexed look.

“Seriously, what are you doing?” she asked with some frustration.

Killian wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close and maneuvering her so that her back was in full contact with his chest. He placed a kiss on the base of her neck and forward so that his chin was resting on her shoulder, looking down at Harrison who was still squirming a bit.

“Skin contact,” he stated absently, as he raised his hand to brush against Harrison’s cheek. When Harrison seemed to lean into his touch, he kept his fingers there lingering; just wanting to keep some connection between them.

“Skin contact?” she repeated in disbelief.

“Skin contact,” he confirmed, nuzzling his nose against the line of her shoulder, closing his eyes. “Reduces stress and pain…Helps sleep…Promotes bonding…Come on, I know you’ve reading the books, Swan. And you, my lovely wife, need some, if not all of those. Because despite the fact you think you’re failing, you’re an excellent mother, but you are very stressed and sleep deprived.”

“Killian, I am not a baby,” Emma stated, annoyed.

“I am very much aware of that, Swan.”

“Stop treating me like one then.”

“I’m not treating you like a child. Only as a stressed-out mother.”

“I’m pretty sure skin-to-skin contact only applies to newborns,” Emma replied and Killian didn’t need to see her face to know she was rolling her eyes.

“No harm in trying though,” he murmured, placing another kiss on her warm shoulder.

They didn’t speak for a few moments. Occasionally Harrison let out a whimper, but they were faint noises that didn’t seem to convey any desire or discomfort. The only other sounds that could be heard was the ceiling fan humming above them to ward off the early heat that heralded the coming of June and summer. Killian made a mental note that at some point he was going to have to pull up the air conditioning units from the shed. It would be a grueling task, but one he could cajole Henry into helping him with. He wasn’t about to spend the summer dealing with a cranky new baby and the summer heat.

Despite her protests and scoffing, Emma relaxed a bit in his arms and even leaned back against him. One of her hands found his on Harrison’s cheek and rested on top of it. Killian expected her to weave their fingers together, but she didn’t. He buried his head in the juncture between her neck and her shoulder, allowing himself to bask in the soft silence. His eyelids felt like lead and he was nearly asleep when Emma spoke.

“Harrison’s asleep…it’s a fucking miracle.”

“Considering that he has slept before, it’s hardly a miracle,” Killian muttered against her neck, not even bothering to open his eyes.

“Har, har. Very funny. Seriously, Killian, look at him.”

Killian opened his eyes, moving against his position on Emma’s neck and shifting to look over her shoulder to peer down at their son. Harrison’s face was almost completely hidden into the side of Emma’s breast, but he could see that the little boy’s eyes were shut and little puffs of breath were leaving his mouth in tandem with the small movements of his stomach. He smiled softly, his fingers twitching against Harrison’s cheek. The boy stirred a bit, a tiny huff leaving his lips but he didn’t wake.

Killian sighed in relief.

“He’s beautiful,” he said quietly before he paused. “Maybe you should take a cue from him and sleep too, love.”

“But that involves me moving to put him down and I don’t want to,” she whispered. “I don’t want to put him down, but I’m sure as hell don’t want to sleep with him in the bed. I have read way too many reports of parents crushing their kids in their sleep. That’s not going to be me.”

“Then hand me the lad and I’ll put him to bed,” Killian responded reasonably.

He shifted to bring himself into a sitting position, but Emma’s hand, which had been resting peacefully on top of his, grabbed his forearm. He stopped moving and looked down at her questionably. Emma tilted a bit so that her green eyes met his.

“But I don’t want you to move either,” she whispered.

“Someone has to move, love. Like you said, he can’t sleep in the bed with us. Just let me take him and I promise I will be right back.” He punctuated the promise by placing another kiss on her shoulder.

“Alright. But get back here. I miss you when you’re gone.”

“I’m not going anywhere, love.”

Somewhat reluctantly, Emma shifted into an upward position while holding their son as close to her chest as she could so he wouldn’t be jostled. She handed him over to Killian, placing Harrison in his arms as if he were something precious made of glass. The boy wrinkled his nose and both froze in fear of him waking like a pair of deer caught in headlights, but he merely smacked his lips together and went back to sleep. Emma let out a sigh of relief, which Killian inwardly echoed.

As soundlessly as was humanly possible, he paddled across the bedroom to where they had set up their son’s bassinet. Placing Harrison down, Killian planted a quick and gentle kiss against the newborn’s hairline. He stared at him for a moment, studying the boy’s dark hair and lashes. It was still so hard to believe that something so small and so beautiful was his. He smiled softly as he looked down at the child.

“Pleasant dreams, little one,” he murmured in a voice barely above a whisper. “Try to stay in dreamland for a good hour or two, no? Your mom would really appreciate it.”

Emma had not moved from her spot on their bed, not even to put her shirt back, which surprised him because Emma almost rarely slept without a shirt. However, considering the intense bags under her eyes and the grueling anxiety of the past few days, she might have been too tired to care. When he returned to bed, she immediately curled around him with limbs that reminded him very much of octopus tentacles, burying her head into his chest and sighing.

“I see you are no longer upset about the fact I am naked and wet,” he mused.

“Well, I was more upset about the wet part, which seems to be taken care of. Nakedness is okay.”

“Okay? Just okay?” He couldn’t help quirking an eyebrow.

“It’s more than okay. You happy now?” Emma replied, sighing.

“Aye. If my nakedness was not okay, then our marriage would be a pretty sad,” he chuckled quietly, mindful of the fact his son was sleeping just a few meters away from him.

Emma rolled her eyes, whacking him on the shoulder before kissing the affected area and settling back against him as if nothing had ever happened. She closed her eyes.

“Enough talking and go to sleep, Jones. Lord knows when we’ll get it next.”

[sad-af1121]

Unforgettable Part 1/?

Summary: You thought your life would be played out they way you thought. But due to a tragic event, you left everything, including your soulmate, Bucky Barnes.  Pairing: Deadpool x Reader (platonic friendship) Bucky Barnes x Reader (eventually) Word Count:1830 Warnings: Language, angst A/N: Hey :) So this is my first fic series and it’s very slow burned. There’s a lot to the story, and if y’all enjoy it, please let me know and I’d be happy to continue it! This is a very angsty fic, so I’m warning you now. Feedback is welcomed 💜

3 years.

It’s been 3 years since you left your family…

You left your home…

Your friends…

And your lover.

You don’t remember the last time you genuinely smiled, or laughed, or even lived.

Every day was the same. You’d sleep throughout the day, not giving a fuck about the world that seemed to be all sunshine and rainbows. When in truth, the world is pretty fucked up and you’d wondered why people would waste their time having fun, going out, having children, being in love…

They have no idea what goes on in secrecy. What evil organizations are trying to take over the world, an alien invasion, mutant war or the attack of robots who deem that humanity is the reason for everything horrible in the world. And guess what, that robotic, red-eyed son of a bitch was right, however you believed it’s the ones who set out to perfect the human race or did unspeakable things deserve to get rid of from this world and the next. But there were only a few who could work together to save mankind from things that.

Of course, you used to be in a team, but then again that was a time where things were much simpler.

At night, you’d go out and find any suspicious activity. Whether it was saving people lives from criminals or hunting down assholes who have wronged so many and hurt a dozen or so. It didn’t matter. You didn’t care. As long as you showed fear in those who have done or did horrendous acts. They didn’t deserve to be happy, why should they. They’re all scumbags, lacking emotions. They were just… things without a soul. Lifeless creatures walking amongst the living, who believe to have a purpose in the world.

You used to have a purpose. Not anymore.

By dawn, your clothes would be ripped, drenched in blood, sweat, and dirt. You’d look like you stepped out of a horror movie, however, it was reality. You fought with your own inner demons on a daily basis. Oh wait, you’d forget you can sense emotions radiating off of people. You still weren’t used to absorbing all the emotions people felt. You learned to turn off yours a long time ago.

You didn’t need them; you were emotionless.

You weren’t always like this. There was a time where you loved helping people deal with their feelings to try and get them to be happy. Life always fascinated you. You were intrigued with the world and what is was capable of doing, showing and creating. It was a beautiful white canvas that was painted over with mother nature’s intendancies and desires. But you saw the world and life colorless, black and white with red.

You never knew who your real parents were. You were put in an orphanage at the age of 13. You had no memory of your previous years. It was like someone deprived you of that, yet you had no clue if you had maybe suffered through something traumatic or had a medical condition that caused you to have long term memory loss, learning how to do everything again, creating a new identity. A new you.

At the age of 15, you were sent to a foster home. You had a loving family and a brother who would do anything for you. However, knowing the life you set for yourself, you pushed them out your life, no shut them out. They were safe not knowing where you were, if you’re alive or not. You remember the first time they freaked out over your powers. Yeah, more than one. Not only could you feel what others were feeling, but you emitted energy in form of blue fire, wrapping around your hands. It’s also powered my emotions.

Your own actually.

You had to be careful not to get upset or angry or else you’d send a wave of power, damaging a whole lot. You found this out when you were being examined and tested by Bruce Banner. He was fascinated by your molecular makeup and so was Tony. Well, Tony cared about perfecting you in any way possible, building weapons and gadgets to help you aim your powers whenever they got out of control.

You were anything but in control.

Your foster parents had thrown you a birthday party when the lights went out. You got upset and when your foster mother tried calming you down, but you got more upset. You balled your fists and blue fire appeared, lighting up the room in the most exquisite and mesmerizing color. They were afraid to touch you but as you saw the fear and worry they had, the blue orbs disappeared. You leaped into their arms and started crying, trying to understand what was going on. They told you, you brought light into their lives. You smiled a bit at the memory. They didn’t know what to do but to keep your powers a secret so that people didn’t hurt you. You were their daughter and they protected and cared for you as long as they could.

As long as you would.  

You longed to go back and stop the things that brought you here in the first place. Life was slipping through your delicate hands that were now tough and torn from your lack of caring. Sure, you were still beautiful, capturing the eyes of any male or female who found you exquisite and stunning. But you just couldn’t keep up with yourself. People came first rather than you. That’s how its always been. Your fears came true and you were living in one for the rest of your life until you draw your last breath…

Trapped.  

***                          

You groan, hearing your alarm go off and you slam your fist on the device before snapping your eyes open and seeing it in a million pieces. Shit, you cursed at yourself and shifted around the bed, trying to get in a better position to sleep your ass off. However, your roommate started blaring music around the house as a reminder to wake you up. You grabbed an unoccupied pillow and covered it over your head and ears, blocking the horrendous music from ruining your precious sleep. But the sound of the door, slamming open and hitting the wall startled you.

“Ya know Y/n, it’s not healthy to sleep your ass off all day. How else are ya gonna get that ass nice and firm?”

“Get the fuck out Wade!” You threw that same pillow at his head, which he skillfully blocked by ducking his head then turning back to you, plopping himself on the bed. Your roommate is indeed, Deadpool himself. He found you struggling in an alleyway, pressed against a brick wall with some smug bastard’s hands around your throat. He swooped in and saved your life. Well, you used your powers to throw the guy off you and he shot him before he could hit the ground but he was fascinated with the fact that you were a mutant. You two instantly grew fond of each other and he’s been your friend ever since.

But that didn’t change the fact of how annoying this son of a bitch was.

“That really hurt my feelings. I thought we were more than an abusive relationship Y/n? I thought you loved me?” He says with his stupid sarcastic voice that makes you wanna punch the daylights out of him. You growl and sit up, flashing the Freddy Kruger, looking guy a fake smile.

“I’m up asshole. Now go and fuck up someone else’s day, okay?” You rolled your eyes and looked at the other clock you had on your dresser, 8:30 p.m. You signed and hopped out of bed, making your way to your bathroom to get dressed and freshen up.

He casually follows.

“So what’s for today’s agenda, you apathetic little troll? Gonna go guns blazzin’ in another supermarket?” He snickers and bends over, laughing like he saw someone run into a glass window.

“No asshole. I didn’t know that jerk was gonna run in there in the first place. I didn’t wanna lose him, and it’s not like I shot anyone besides that criminal.”

“Y/n… you shot him in the dick.” He cringes. “Even I felt that one. You took his babymaker away. How else is he supposed to cumpie in women?”

Your eyes shot wide open and your nostrils flared at his comment and you threw your switchblade from the bathroom, stabbing Wade in the chest. He looks down at the weapon as if nothing happened and looks back up to you, in total disbelief.

“Baby, what did I say about throwing your toys everywhere? People can get seriously hurt.” He pulls out the blade, groaning before wiping off the blood and handing it back to you.

“We need counseling sweetheart. I-I don’t think I can live like this.” The smug bastard pretends to cry and sound hurt, but you know he’s all act. He’s like a walking bad comedy movie that you wish never existed. You pinch the bridge of your nose showing how frustrated and agitated you were becoming.

“Wade, is there a reason why you’re being more of a complete ass this evening? You’re usually hanging out with that idiot who doesn’t know how to speak when I’m around… What’s his name like rodent or something?” You lean against the door frame with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh, you mean Weasel?  He tried wearing my suit but hurt himself by tripping on it and banging his head against the coffee table, so he’s home…away from me.” He chuckles and you shake your, walking towards your closet, fetching your boots.

“Ohhh, and some Cap guy called your cell today. I thought I was the only other person who knew your number?” He stands in front of you with his arms crossed. You froze and your anxiety levels rising.

“Wh-when did h-he call?”

“This morning. I told him you were out…” He bends down, taking your hand in his, snapping you from your thoughts.

“Hey, it’s alright. I think you should talk to him, he sounded concerned.” You nod your head and look up at him.

“Yeah, yeah… just give me some time.”

Wade nods and kisses your forehead before getting up and walking out the room. You glance at your cell sitting on the nightstand, across the room. You sit there for a good hour, contemplating if you should contact the only people who knew the Y/n before she died. You were a new person. How would they handle that? What did he want? Did… did something happen?

Panic strikes within you and you leap up, sprinting across the room, grabbing your phone, before dialing Steve’s number. It wasn’t saved on your phone, no. You knew it by heart.

Ring, ring…

Your breathing hitches as you hear the familiar voice that was once warm and inviting to desperate and exhausted.

“Y/n? We need your help.”

Tags: @buckybarnesismypreciousplum, @thatawkwardtinyperson, @the-violent-peach, @amrita31199, @finallybreathee, @jezzula, @atari-writes

(if you’d like to be tagged, let me know. And to those who are tagged, if you don’t want me to tag you, please tell me. Thank you)

[littleforestfairy]

Delilah 1-25 and Marie 26-50!

Under the cut cus it’s long!

Delilah

1. What’s their full name? Why was that chosen? Does it mean anything?

Already answered!

2. Do they have any titles? How did they get them?

Nooope.

3. Did they have a good childhood? What are fond memories they have of it? What’s a bad memory? 

She had a pretty bad childhood. Her parents never wanted her, they were neglectful and she ended up having to fend for herself, and they constantly treated her as a burden, so she grew up thinking that and feeling unloved.

4. What is their relationship with their parents? What’s a good and bad memory with them? Did they know both parents? 

Look at the previous question ^

5. Do they have any siblings? What’s their names? What is their relationship with them? Has their relationship changed since they were kids to adults?

Only child!

6. What were they like at school? Did they enjoy it? Did they finish? What level of higher education did they reach? What subjects did they enjoy? Which did they hate?

She is in high school and homeschooled. She doesn’t particularly like school, but homeschool makes it easier to handle. She likes biology and art, and hates math and English.

7. Did they have lots of friends as a child? Did they keep any of their childhood friends into adulthood? 

She didn’t have many friends until she came to Amore Safe Haven, and now she has lots of loving friends!

8. Did they have pets as a child? Do they have pets as an adult? Do they like animals? 

Nooope, never had pets, but she wishes she could have a cat!

9. Do animals like them? Do they get on well with animals? 

Already answered!

10. Do they like children? Do children like them? Do they have or want any children? What would they be like as a parent? Or as a godparent/babysitter/ect?

Already answered!

11. Do they have any special diet requirements? Are they a vegetarian? Vegan? Have any allergies?

She is a vegetarian by choice! Doesn’t have any allergies or diet requirements.

12. What is their favourite food? 

Mixed berry tarts!

13. What is their least favourite food?

Spinach

14. Do they have any specific memories of food/a restaurant/meal?

Nooope

15. Are they good at cooking? Do they enjoy it? What do others think of their cooking?

She’s pretty good at cooking, and enjoys baking more. Her friends love her baking!

16. Do they collect anything? What do they do with it? Where do they keep it? 

She collects pressed flowers and keeps them in a scrapbook.

17. Do they like to take photos? What do they like to take photos of? Selfies? What do they do with their photos?

She likes to photos of her friends and nature!

18. What’s their favourite genre of: books, music, tv shows, films, video games and anything else

She loves documentaries, particularely nature documentaries, and loves true story books like Island of the Blue Dolphins and Little House series

19. What’s their least favourite genres?

Horror

20. Do they like musicals? Music in general? What do they do when they’re favourite song comes?

Already answered!

21. Do they have a temper? Are they patient? What are they like when they do lose their temper?

She’s a pretty patient person! She does breathing exercises when she’s upset or frustrated and prefers to handle things in a calm manner.

22. What are their favourite insults to use? What do they insult people for? Or do they prefer to bitch behind someone’s back?

She hates insulting people and never talks behind people’s backs

23. Do they have a good memory? Short term or long term? Are they good with names? Or faces?

She’s a good memory! Great with names and faces, great at remembering little things

24. What is their sleeping pattern like? Do they snore? What do they like to sleep on? A soft or hard mattress?

She’s a heavy sleeper and snores kinda softly. She prefers a soft mattress with lots of pillows

25. What do they find funny? Do they have a good sense of humour? Are they funny themselves?

She has a pretty good sense of humor and loves jokes, but she doesn’t know how to tell a joke properly

Marie

26. How do they act when they’re happy? Do they sing? Dance? Hum? Or do they hide their emotions? 

She’s very energetic and grins a lot when she’s happy! She hums and just can’t keep it inside

27. What makes them sad? Do they cry regularly? Do they cry openly or hide it? What are they like they are sad?

Because of how she grew up, she’s used to crying alone, but she tries not to hide her feelings anymore if she’s around people that care. She doesn’t cry very easily. Overwhelming emotions are what makes her cry most, like overwhelmingly depressed or overwhelmingly happy.

28. What is their biggest fear? What in general scares them? How do they act when they’re scared?

Her biggest fear is probably losing someone she loves, cus she’s already lost both her parents. Heights, small spaces, and the ocean are things that really scare her. She locks up and hyperventilates when frightened.

29. What do they do when they find out someone else’s fear? Do they tease them? Or get very over protective? 

Very over protective! She’s very motherly, she feels the need to protect and dote on everyone she loves.

30. Do they exercise? Regularly? Or only when forced? What do they act like pre-work out and post-work out?

Naahhh she doesn’t really exercise

31. Do they drink? What are they like drunk? What are they like hungover? How do they act when other people are drunk or hungover? Kind or teasing?

She only occasionally drinks champagne, never enough to get drunk. She’s very kind and a bit overprotective of people who are very drunk, making sure they drink water and get some rest.

32. What do they dress like? What sorta shops do they buy clothes from? Do they wear the fashion that they like? What do they wear to sleep? Do they wear makeup? What’s their hair like?

She dresses very prim and classy, with pencil skirts and crisp blouses and heels. She wears matching pajama sets with button up tops. Light makeup with pastel colors. Her hair is to her chest and dark blond, and usually put up in a bun at the base of her head.

33. What underwear do they wear? Boxers or briefs? Lacey? Comfy granny panties?

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

34. What is their body type? How tall are they? Do they like their body?

Bit of a pear-shaped figure, 5′6″. She’s pretty comfortable with her body!

35. What’s their guilty pleasure? What is their totally unguilty pleasure? 

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

36. What are they good at? What hobbies do they like? Can they sing?

She likes to sing and she’s pretty good at it. She likes ballroom dancing, watching old movies, painting, and she can kind of play the piano.

37. Do they like to read? Are they a fast or slow reader? Do they like poetry? Fictional or non fiction?

She loves to read! And she loves poetry! She’s a fairly fast reader. She loves fictional more than non fiction.

38. What do they admire in others? What talents do they wish they had?

She admires dedication and passion in people’s work, and she admires people with many amazing talents like playing multiple instruments and wishes she could have that.

39. Do they like letters? Or prefer emails/messaging? 

Letters!

40. Do they like energy drinks? Coffee? Sugary food? Or can they naturally stay awake and alert?

She likes coffee with lots of sweetener and flavoring. She doesn’t have a big sweet tooth, but she does enjoy some sweets. She does need lots of coffee to stay awake and alert.

41. What’s their sexuality? What do they find attractive? Physically and mentally? What do they like/need in a relationship?

Bisexual! She finds physical strength in both men and women very attractive, and she loves someone who is smart and caring. She needs someone who can understand her and listen and communicate.

42. What are their goals? What would they sacrifice anything for? What is their secret ambition?

She strives to be braver and have a life where she can live on her own without fear. She would sacrifice anything for those she loves and the people who have taken care of.

43. Are they religious? What do they think of religion? What do they think of religious people? What do they think of non religious people?

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ honestly dunno

44. What is their favourite season? Type of weather? Are they good in the cold or the heat? What weather do they complain in the most? 

She loves spring the best, and isn’t very good in the summer heat.  

45. How do other people see them? Is it similar to how they see themselves? 

Other people see as protective, motherly, and caring, and that’s what she does see herself as.

46. Do they make a good first impression? Does their first impression reflect them accurately? How do they introduce themselves?

She does make a good first impression of who she really is. She tends to introduces herself very formally.

47. How do they act in a formal occasion? What do they think of black tie wear? Do they enjoy fancy parties and love to chit chat or loathe the whole event?

She very much enjoys formal and fancy parties. She loves dressing up in formal wear and socializing.

48. Do they enjoy any parties? If so what kind? Do they organise the party or just turn up? How do they act? What if they didn’t want to go but were dragged along by a friend? 

Refer to above question ^ She doesn’t really like crazy dance parties, but luckily no one forces her to go to those.

49. What is their most valued object? Are they sentimental? Is there something they have to take everywhere with them?

Her most valued object is a pair of pearl earrings that used to belong to her mother and she wears them all the time. She’s a pretty sentimental person.

50. If they could only take one bag of stuff somewhere with them: what would they pack? What do they consider their essentials?

Clothes, first aid kit, blankets, toothbrush, medicine, books, some makeup and brushes, hand lotion, hand sanitizer, makeup wipes.

[storiesnstormsinmyhead-blog]

Stories we tell ourselves

Some of us are born with a natural sense of bravado and bravery. Confidence in their collect features. But many of us are not, to many, such was the case for Reynold Roy Richardson, the third son of Miguel Jonathon Richardson. Reynold Roy Richardson, Roy for short, was born with exceptionally low confidence in everything. He was averagely tall and averagely skinny and had average body type and average coloring. Just another shade of blue in the fifty eight crayon box. And although some days he wished to be something better, he had no real motives to get there and so settled with being happy with his droll, tired, average self. He could shoot a hoop from half court given enough tries, and while the guys at school thought that was pretty cool, so could everyone. However one day his life took an unexpected turn for the oddest. It started in home ec class, his usual partner who added too much salt to everything was gone for the day, so he was paired with Ruby haired Robin. Ruby haired Robin was a loner oddball who watched asian cartoons and drank real smoothies and had short red hair the stuck up at odd angles. Her doctor who sweater was too big for her and her boots too tall, her glasses seemed to eat half her face under their big frames. As she sat down he could almost feel her discontent and irritability at the long day. They made cupcakes, but instead of putting a perfect hat of frosting on them Robin dolloped a huge drippy mess of hers, they cleaned up and she stacked everything wrong and it fell down in a huge clatter. It soon became obvious to Roy that Robin was exceptionally perfect, at being completely imperfect. The next day she had a homemade beanie and they made banana bread. She tried to start conversion.

“Hey you, don’t you think miss Barreyman looks like she should be wearing a bowtie?” It was an odd question but did make sense if you saw miss Barreyman. Miss Barreyman wore power suits and high heels everyday and drank black coffee out of a gallon mug without smudging a bit of her bright red lipstick. She looked like she could have gotten away with murder in her youth, but now had tired eyes and drippy eyeliner and less perk and pep.

“Yeah sure”

“You don’t talk much, do you?” Ruby chirped, honestly would she just shut up? Why did she wanna talk to me anyways?

“No”

“Oh sorry.” lapse silence “Do you watch doctor who?”

“No, but my sister does” My freaky man obsessed sister, I borrowed her laptop once when I was ten and that's how I learned how men made love, well gay men, in her adolescent imagination.

“Oh thats cool, Supernatural?”

“What?”

“The show?”

“I don-” the bell rang, “I gotta go” finally, free from her weird conversation topics.

The next day Robin wasn’t there, salt boy was back. we made brownies, I turned my back for one second and when the brownies came out of the oven they shimmered with a fine layer of salt, he had mistaken the teaspoon for the tablespoon again. We had no conversation, but I kinda missed the weird break from normality that was Ruby haired Robin. She didn’t come back the next day, or the next day, or again. Later that week there was an article in the newspaper about a young teen girl commiting suicide. However I got a nagging sensation she was still around. Rationally she couldn’t be, but I swear I felt her irritation and discontent still, following me around. Then it happened, I was just chilling in my room gaming and eating BBQ Lays when I heard a sigh, I looked up and saw Robin, or rather a specter of her, sitting on the corner of my bed staring longingly at the bag of chips i was eating. Gone was the dark makeup and cakey foundation that looked hastily applied. In its place was a plain, but not unadorable face, slightly boyish with freckles and light lashes. hair was several shades lighter and curly in a baby pony tail, and she was wearing a huge pair of dragon pj pants and a tank top with a bow on the front. With a gasp Roy leaped from the spot on his bed and to the window and started fumbling for the latch, he had seen enough horror flicks to know what would happen next.

“Eeeek!” Robin saw his sudden scare and jumped off the bed and backed towards the door.

“Holy crap you’re dead!”

“Obviously! I’d actually be eating those chips if I could. I haven’t had anything to eat in like five days and I’m dying…” She stopped realizing the actuality of the pun “Again”

“But you’re dead, like dead!”

“Yes I am, it’s all the aliens fault.”

“Aliens?!?”

“Yes aliens!” She settled down on the bed again. “I don’t quite remember my death but I remember that there was a bright white light like a beam and I was lifted up and then it was really painful and I died, and since God doesn’t exist for me it must be aliens.”

“Okay…” This chick was clearly mad, looney, but since I was seeing ghosts didn't that make me looney as well? “So what would I do about that?”

“Well I don’t quite know why but as soon as came to you were standing right in front of me. It was at school in the home Ec lab. And since then I can't wander away from you. It’s like you’re my earthly tether?”

“Well then untether yourself! And leave me alone. I don't believe in ghosts.”

She seemed to shrink, ”I’m sorry but I don’t know how to do that!!!!!” I immediately felt both bad and embarrassed, I was yelling at a dead girl.

“No don’t be sorry, I’m sorry for yelling, but seriously, you could try to untether yourself…” Even that comment seemed stupid to me.

“Can you tell me how that game works?” She completely ignores it.

“Um sure.” I picked up my controller and proffers it to her small hands when I realize it will just fall through.

Our heroes spend the rest of the day with Roy eating chips and pointing out how different buttons work to a confused and hungry little ghost girl.

“And see, The boss has been defeated and now I just walk over using the joystick to walk and steer and can collect all my booty-” He stops when he hears a soft sighing whistle, draped across the shelf in the corner is a sleeping Robin, apparently ghosts sleep. Her face is turned away and her arms are crossed as they hang off the shelf.

“Royyyy! Dinner time!” His mother called him to the table.

“Coming!” As Roy shut the door to his small room he remembered, the dead don't need to breathe, so if Robin snored it was out of habit, a painful reminder of the times she had been full of life.

“Why do girls wear so much makeup?” Roy's questions all seemed to be common knowledge to me. I wonder why his brain hasn’t thought to comprehend these things yet, I will not say as much however because it would he horribly rude. Many things he thinks are common knowledge I have not even began to think through yet.

“Well… because they don’t believe they look good without it or desirable to the people they wish to attract. And it is a mask to hide behind so that they can face others of their species proudly without feeling inefficient. I wear- wore mine as a mask so that people would leave me alone and know I did not want to be apart of their games.”

“What games?”

“The contest between girls to be the best, like how some girls like to manipulate guys into liking them just to feel important and get all the attention because they base self worth on those things. I guess I understand how they need these things to feel alive, and I won’t oppose them unless they hurt someone I care about then I will destroy them. There are too many to oppose plus it doesn’t seem fair to deny them their existence.”

“Why do you think you’re any different?” The question is loaded and Roy knows it.

“I’m not, I just try harder not to be.” He snorts in surprise.

“Why just people who are important? What about yourself?” This seems genuine.

“I’m not very important to myself, I guess I wanted to live because anything else is scary and the effort, but I don’t see why I should be special because I don’t have any special talents and I don’t want to run around being just self important.”

“Isn’t that view a bit insulting to the people who care about you?”

“Yes, but what else do you expect me to do? Go to K-Mart and buy myself some self confidence? If I’m just a melodramatic teenager like normal this should go away soon and if I’m not I’ll just go buy something to fix it.” I can feel my translucent shoulders begin to tighten up and tears hot in my throat, I swallow them down before they spill out. Funny how even ghosts can cry, I wonder if ghost tears have magical potency? One spills and as I reach up to brush it off Roy dabs it with a sleeve.

“Hey sorry, you okay?”

“Yeah sorry I’m just overactive!”

“Come here?” He awkwardly offers me a hug, I don’t want to be rude and also, even dead girls need a hug sometimes.

She’s a fellow comrade in normalcy, and I feel sympathy, I also know how it feels to be frustrated by my lack of talent. As she accepts my hug I also feel envy, men aren’t suppose to cry.

Air rushes past us suddenly and we are flung into space violently buffeted by wind and something else like small rocks. Surprise makes me grip the only solid seeming thing around me, regardless of the weirdness of the solid. I can hear Robin screaming, or is that me? Then stillness, we are jerked into a still space and righted, well mostly…

Blinking tears out of my watering eyes I perceive colors and then images, it’s like we’re standing inside a painting, fractured images surround us in ever changing patterns and textures. Robin gives a little gasp and moves fluidly towards one. I follow not wanting to get lost inside this seeming endless maze of mirrors and illusions. I manage to grab her bare foot as she is sucked forward into the image.

Space, outer space, below the earth twinkles like a diamond covered in muddy water and around us are lights and nebulas of dust. It seems like it should be cold but I cannot feel anything, Robin gives a cry of excitement and spins in a circle laughing.

“It's just like a story I saw once!”

“Saw?” I grab at a rock floating next to me and do several slow spins in place.

“Yeah, I saw it in a dream!” She tries to right me and ends up floating the opposite direction, I grasp her wayward feet so that we are not separated. A roar buffets by us and a giant, gray, blinking mass careens past us like a torpedo. The alien saucer heads straight towards earth on a warpath. Robin gives a little yelp of fear and puts herself in front of me, like her slight body can hide me from the probing spacecraft. Fear is written on her face, and for the first time I think I may believe her a little bit about the alien story. Air rushes again and a pulling sensation drags us back, until my room swims into focus before my eyes. Robin sits against the other side of the room frozen in fear, no matter of potato chips or british shows lures her out of her spot lodged behind the door.

When she finally moves her heart is set on finding out what happened, she swears it’s somewhere, somewhere in her memory she blocked out.

I know now I have to know what happened, no matter how painful or violating the truth, a morbid part of me needs to know. If curiosity killed the cat than satisfaction brought her back. Me and Roy watch movies on aliens; independence day, alien, doctor who: the water of mars. Nothing sparks recognition. I look for scars on my body when Roy isn’t home but all I find are all my old self harm scars with my new cuts that now would never heal, just glow a subtle red against my skin. When I look at then my head hurts remembering the mood that made me do that, but it seems with my body I also shed a weight that the doctors called clinical depression, funny, it felt like a weight before, now it feels like the aliens stripped more from me than life, a part of my mind i missing. My fingers burn to hold a pencil, stupidly i try, the pencil moves an hair’s breath when I go through it. I have nothing else to do so I commit to picking up the pencil.

“Hey so you know Ruby Haired Robin?” I casually ask Bryan in the locker room.

“Yeah! That chick who liked Brian and always carried a sketchbook with her?” Bryan is a tall, athletically gifted guy with killer abs and a crisp cut look like a male model. He doesn’t have much in the way of brains but if you give him a piece of paper he can write a sonnet to make shakespeare cry.

“Yeah her! Wait she liked Dwain?” Hm interesting.

“Yeah. Why do you ask?”

“Well… do you know if they stated a cause of death?” He cringes a little.

“Morbid man, yeah it said she had been big on cutting, there were hundreds of wounds all over her body and she had bled to death from a few in her sleep.”

“Okay cool! Thanks man.”

When I got home I rushed to my room, the door flies open to reveal Robin sitting at my desk. A pencil is grasped in her hands and she is so focused on her work that she doesn’t even start when I walk in.

“You cut?”

“Yes.” Her focus is solely on the picture she is creating.

“That's what they said killed you.”

“I know”

“Why aliens then?”

She looks up finally, “Because I never cut deep enough to kill me.”

“Can I see?”

“Some of it sure.” Carefully she lifts her pants leg all the way up to show me the red angry lines marching haphazardly up her legs. “It’s not a big deal, it doesn’t even hurt anymore.”

“Okay.” It’s confusing but she doesn’t seem in pain so I let go. “You liked Dwain?”

“What is it, question the dead girl time?” She is blunt.

“Sorta… sorry I was just curious… It’s more a question about why and what a girl likes in a guy… I figured you would know!” She smiles.

“Totally! Well I like Dwain because he was nice to me and didn’t ostracize me because of my looks and attitude. It’s more a kindness crush, I like him because he was nice to me and that made me happy! Then his friends started teasing him and he left me be… no one wants to be liked by a loner if their popular like that. Why you wanna know what girls like?”

My cheeks heat up like volcanos, “Because I like someone…”

“Oooooooohhhhhhhhhh who do you liiiiiiiiikkkkkkkkkeeeee!” She drags it out like a kid would.

“Marina….” “Marina K?”

“Yeah…”

“She’s really pretty, just watch out she’s one of the get them to like you just because girls. Play hard to get.” Robin bounces up and down laughing, “ Roy and Marina sitting in a tree, K I S S I N G! First comes loooove then comes marriage! Then comes Roy with a baby carriage!” Robin pokes me in the side and giggles, “And we both know how you get babies since neither of us were absent from health class.”

“You remember who was in that class?” “Totally, most of the people were too embarrassed to look up, but I’ve been familiar with that stuff for a long time and it was fun watching them all blush and nervously giggle.” Thoughtfully she adds, “well knowing Marina you won't have to wait till marriage for babymaking… just babies.”

“Were your parents doctors of something?”

“Sorta, why?”

“Well you were previously associated with the process of babymaking…”

“My dad’s a gynecologist assistant and my mom is a midwife. They didn't think their daughter should be left in the dark about one of the oldest acts of mankind so they got me a few books.”

“Wow, your parents are crazy…” She shrugs her shoulders.

“Maybe to some people, but to me it’s just how I was raised and I wouldn’t ask for anything else!” A dark cloud seems to form in her visage, “I’m really gonna miss that… Damn! Why did I have to die!” Her shoulders start to shake. “It felt like a dream until now, a dream I could wake up from, but I really am dead… And being dead sucks.”

Damn it, my eyes are burning and my nose is tingling in it’s odd, sharp way. I miss my mom and dad so much, my misunderstood, passive father and my hypersensitive, overexpressing mother. Roy looks concerned but I don’t want to be helped, I want to not think or exist anymore. Roy gasps and runs forward but his hands pass through me and when I look down in morbid curiosity, I cannot see myself at all. Then the world goes black for me.

Am I really dead this time? No… I’m just sleeping. No. Im awake, just everything but my mind has faded. I’m guessing I will die soon, again, but the only regret I have is not being able to tell my mother sorry for our fight and for dying, same to my dad. Damn this is stupid, why can’t it be anyone but me! I would happily go back to my disease ridden, messed up body to fix this. But I can’t, I really can’t, and I was stupid if I ever thought I could. After all this is all my fault.

She’s gone! She vanished, one moment so real, the next gone in a wink of the imagination. Snatched away like death took her again, mind, body, and soul. Like static. The air wavers for a second, then again, she flickers back into existence. I almost rush to hug her before I remember, then I pause. Her eyes look tired, like she left something behind when she reappeared.

The rest of the week pasts like a gray rainstorm, time drags on like a tired packhorse. Slowly and worn down until I felt like a walking corpse of a walking dreamer. The boring days of old seem rose tinged to me now compared to the ominous presence in my home. Robin had vanished again off and on when she felt like it and didn’t want to be seen crying ghostly tears. I looked at the drawing she had made to try to figure out what had happened, was it an omen… or was that just my desperate hopes?

In my dreams we frantically searched for her death among the fractile memories scattered in her mind. We searched massive desert plains with beautiful rose sponged skies on the verge of night as the sun tumbled down the throat of nighttime. We scoured the bottoms of ocean so deep that they crushed everything into itself and no light could reach into the murky waters, once you were immersed the only way you could go was down. But while I searched she stayed quiet, distracted. That is until the fourth tuesday in november.

“Roy!”

“Hgrm….”

“Roy!”

“Rrrrrrrr!”

“Roy RoyRoyRoyRoyRoy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“What!!!!!!!!!” I sit upright and to my great horror Robin is chilling at my bedside shaking me awake.

“You sound like an angry twelve year old.”

“What do you want!!!!!!”

“I wanna have an adventure!”

“It’s too early for this…”

“It’s never too early for an adventure!” She chirps. God I want to strangle the dead girl.

“Yes it is!” I roll over and try to ignore her.

“Nope!” Her statement could have been followed by a cheery emojicon it sounded so ridiculous. To make matters worse as soon as my back was turned she put her icy hands through my back.

“S-Stop it!” She wiggles her fingers in front of my face, sometimes she is as solid as a wall other times as thin and vapor.

“I’m dead but I’m still here and I wanna enjoy everything I can!” She pouts then puffs hair off her forehead and to the side.

“Just ten more min.”

“Royyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy.”

“Shhhhhh!”

“I will haunt you until the day you die.” Her threat rouses me from my slumber, no way in hell do I want her to witness my final moments or in fact the rest of my life.

“Fine, where do you wanna go?” I sigh and ruffle my hair.

“I want to go get closure so that I can move on into death.” This answer comes as a surprise!

“Why?”

“Because earth is hell and I want to go into nothing so I am no longer reminded of what I could have done or had. I don’t want to have to see my parent grieve or my existence slowly vanish until I become lost without worldly possessions and isolated until I become simply mad, I wish to go with peace.”

“Okay.” Though sad I thought it sounded completely reasonable. Being forgotten would be painful. “Where will we go?”

“I think I know, I remembered something when I vanished and I’ve been stuck here for a while, it's vague but I think if you help me we can figure out what happened!” She holds out her hands and I hesitantly grab them. A fuzzy warm vortex sucks us up in a silent vwoosh feeling.

Instead of the fearful nothingness that swallowed me up before I feel a warm calm, like acceptance. I had accepted the lonely knowledge that I had ceased to exist for my mother and father. When I had vanished I had gone to see them, I tried to talk to them but they just sat there at the table, my spot sat empty and a sullen silence engulfed the dinner. That had been the final straw, the piece that told me I was good and truly dead. My stuff had been moved and my clothes had been given to goodwill. Nothing remained of my stone collection, even my beautiful river rock paul was gone. There was no way for me to go back to my old life. No way to fix the problem. I was gone, I just hadn't let go. At first I had cried, I was unfair and horrible. I went back to Roy and sat beside him, he couldn’t see me. Life felt unbearable. Then I had appeared and saw his concern. I wanted to indulge in the feeling of being needed and cared about. But I knew I had to say goodbye to everything. It was painful. But I slowly grew accustomed to the feeling, when it became too much I went back to Roy. Now I just wanted to stop all together. I would like to say I am at peace, but to tell the truth, no, no peace for the walking dead.

So we flew forward propelled by that foggy recollection of a memory of mine. A memory I feel I must both dread and accept as a last piece of the puzzle of my death. I’m to scared to go at this alone so I took Roy with me because despite the extremely short and tumultuous times I have know him he has provided the most comfort to me of any person in my life. It’s not love or attraction of any sort, he has simply been kind and shown me support that I had not found anywhere else. In return I wished to give him closure in my demise so he was not left confused or guilty in any way.

I alight upon the asphalt of a sidewalk beneath a shiny street lamp. Dusk pulls over the hills in ribbons of smoky blue and clear soft purple and hazy clouds. Familiar lights glow from a familiar home. This isn’t the real thing but it feels so achingly like it my resolve almost wavers. Then I see a figure move.

Another Robin is inside that house, she’s in her room with a book clutched in her hands, it looks so small. She sniffs ungracefully and wipes the snot away from her nose, her eyes are red rimmed and her cheeks look raw and blotchy. She sets the book down and pulls the leg of her dragon pants all the way to her hip. Red lines across her hips ooze blood, she seems to inspect the wound before slowly letting the pants drop down. Next to me Robin stands stiffly, frozen as if in a trance. The image Robin seems to float to the bed and sit down. She snuggles down into the blankets, the scene looks peaceful even after the life fades from her skin, if you ignore the widening stain of red across her sheets. The Robin next to me is shaking and looks petrified. All of her natural seeming bravado is gone and all that left is a scared girl stripped of all her worldly possessions.

I have realised, that is not what happened exactly, it feels too neat, too fake. I wouldn’t have given up just like that. That’s not right.

At home again I sit tiredly spinning a basketball on my finger. Around and around it goes like the thoughts in my head. What was that light, why did Robin cut? Didn’t it hurt? Robin sits on my window sill and chews restlessly on her nails. Tiny, shimmery, crescent moon nail shards tumble from her fingers occasionally. Her cute features are twisted into a mask of concentration as she mulls over something. I can tell something didn’t sit right with her. “It was to perfect.”

“What?”

“My death.”

“How so?”

“I am a naturally imperfect person with many flaws and bad traits yet I died like a F***ing princess.” Sadly I think I agree, when I first met Robin I could feel her impatience and her imperfections radiating from her body, I cannot imagine someone with that much irritation could die without a complaint, hypnosis or not. “I may have seen my death but I don’t know what lead up to that. What made me want to lay down and give up?”

“What day was it?” Dread gnaws at my stomach.

“Tuesday… I think.” Oh god. “Yeah tuesday!” It had been the day we had talked.

“Do you remember anything?”

“No. Why?” We lapse into silence.

After a long pause, “Didn’t we talk that day? Barreyman and the bowtie?”

“Y-Yeah!”

“What did I seem like?”

I think back and remember her that day, “happy, chipper, and very very talkative!”

“Desperate”, she murmurs under her breath.

“Huh?”

“Nothing”, She turns away, but not before I catch a fleeting glimpse of her face, pinched with worry, her lower lip disappearing completely into her mouth.

“Cool cool.” I don’t know how to help her so I pick up my game boy and try to not think of her, she slowly vanishes, almost hesitantly.

Now I am back in ghost space, I know my presence near Roy was making him feel uncomfortable, after all it was me who died and invaded his personal space, I at least owed him the courtesy to have a mental breakdown outside of his presence. So I was desperate that day, then that begged the question what triggered this? It was obviously before Home Ec class or I would have been fine that day. What was so bad it had kept me down all day?

“Did you keep a diary?”

“Huh?”

“Did you, keep a, diary!”

“Sorta.” I slowly reappear into normal space. The only thing that can penetrate my ghost space is words I need to hear.

“Why don’t you go and look through it?”

“Well that might be difficult.”

Roy shifts to look at me over his shoulders, “Why?”

“The police confiscated it…”

“Oh okay.”

“Wanna help me get it?”

“Breaking and entering?! Are you kidding me!!! Try and stop me!” In movies the heroes always seemed to have to steal something and there was always a cool getaway scene with a cute chick and a car chase. It sounded like the perfect way to break the seal on my incredibly boring life, not that Robin hadn’t already done that, although her small a-gender cuteness took away from the mystery and just made her seem childish…

“Today? It’s in a back lab of evidence!” Robin looks nervous, I wonder what is up with her, maybe she doesn’t want me to see her diary.

“How should we get in?”

“Okay so-”

Her diary is small and compact and fits almost in my pocket, the little heart shaped lock is cheap and fragile and the keys jangle behind me as I sprint full force towards the parking lot. It took way too much effort to get in and fool the officers in the first place.

“Halt!!! Mr. John!!!!!” Two officers pound down the hall after me belts clanging. They aren’t quite willing to take out their guns yet because of who I said I was. After all they wouldn’t dare shoot Robin’s boyfriend, whom grief stricken stole her diary from the station to hear the last words of his dear departed love.

Dodging arounds a secretary desk out front I hurdle past the surprised desk attendant and out the swinging doors. Alarms blare, triggered most likely by the magnetic strip inside the diary hidden so that thieves would have trouble finding it. Next to me Robin shouts barely comprehensible, “Roy! Keys!” A wad of keys flies at me from the blur of color streaking by and I catch them. The first vehicle in the lot is a blue and white motorcycle. I grasp the handles and swing on starting the engine with the smallest key on the ring. It roars to life and ghostly hands clasp around my waist in a light embrace. I kick off and we are streaking across the road at seventy in no time. It feels like flying and I know that if we ever make it free of this mess I want a bike like this one. Adrenaline rushes like the blood in my ears muffling everything except my heart, my heart beat seems to be the beat of the world as I turn into the curves of the road. Police cars follow with blaring sirens and blinding lights. Robin squeezes my waist and suddenly we vanish from their view like an invisibility cloak was pulled over us. When I am sure we have lost them, confused and bewildered we drop the getaway vehicle at a streambed and trudge through the culvert upstream at least a mile before making our way to a local park. Exhausted I plop onto a swing back in the woods below a large old apple tree and take out the diary. Robin leans over my shoulder and we flip the the entries closer to the last one.

To Delinx Quarte

School still sucks, yeah I know I’ve said that to many times. I see no point to complete it if I feel like this no matter what I try to do with my life. My therapist tells me it's called clinical depression, I hope it goes away before I have to pay the bills. My energy is basically null and void. I guess at least you're there to listen to me.

To Delinx Quarte

Brian has shunned me for the eighth time this week, I guess I get it, I mean I’m the one who told Kristy I liked him and even if she said she wouldn’t tell, its high school. I guess I’m just stupid for thinking someone like him could talk to me after knowing such an ugly truth.

To Delinx Quarte

Roses are red

Violets blue

Im sad af

So F u to

To Delinx Quarte

Thank you for talking to me all the time.

“Talking to you all the time?” I look questioningly at Robin. To answer she picks up the book and shakes it. A small phone falls out, when I pick it up and flip it open it turns on with a whoosh noise. The screen clears and four new messages blink on the screen.

Robin I’m sorry for slashing, you shouldn’t have run, please come back I’ll bring you to a good doctor!

Robin?

Robin are you there?

Answer me goddamn it!!!!!!!!!!

As I flip through her phone the name Delinx Quarte makes sense, horrible sense. This Delinx claimed to be an alien, or he role played one. He told fantastical stories about beautiful worlds far away and amazing adventures, seriously he sounded like an author. One even make sickening sense as the space saucer heading for earth. He called Robin a petite princess and flattered her with praise for her ingenuity. He listened to her stories she told of cruel classmates and lulled her into false trust with pretty words. He even claimed to be a twenty year old lesbian. Robin told him about having no friends, and her lying confidents, and her crush who ignored her. She leaned on him and never questioned his motives besides being good and nice. Then he said he liked her. Told her what an intelligent girl she was, not like those other high school bimbos. He said they should meet and make cosplay for the next con, his place. The address sounded remote. Robin had her license and drove there herself.

Shakily Robin looks at me and in a small voice tells me what happened there, “I got there and it was ramshackled. She- sorry he didn’t wanna meet in the city because he said his anxiety would flare up.. I went to the door and he answered. I was surprised but he convinced me he meant no harm he just wanted me to be comfortable talking to me… Then we went inside, I was scared but I didn’t want to be rude… Then he starts talking all heavily. He’s an older man almost thirty and balding with grease stains on his saggy clothes and he had a ton of anime body pillows all over the place and his top pick in netflix wa my little pony! I didn’t wanna know what was in the corner… I asked him to not sit so close, even said I had a boyfriend now… But he knew too much and got mad at me for lying, he said I owed him for listening to my whining. I cried and he begged my forgiveness… I tried to run but he chased me, he had a knife and threatened me but I didn’t wanna get raped or killed so I ran, he slashed me on the thigh so deeply that my leg went numb in a few minutes. Then I got away and drove home. My parents weren’t home and I tried to dress the wound, my seats are black and I thought it was shallower. I realized it was to the bone and then I fainted from blood loss. I guess I bled to death… So I was killed by my friend who liked to pretend to be an alien and turned out to be a “Nice Guy”... Kinda pathetic.”

“Are you gonna let him get away with murder?”

“No…”

“Go get him girl!”

“What do I do?”

“Hide his porn stash, replace his anime pillows with guy anime pillows. Subscribe him to a yaoi(guy on guy) site where pre adolescent girls write fanfiction, put hot sauce in his lube… hide his wallet, and put password encoded age restrictions on his netflix so he has to watch g rated films forever. And then scrawl in ketchup on his mirror, I am always watching you. Then leave, and he’ll be paranoid forever.”

“You are truly satan Roy.” Robin smiles devilishly.

I never saw her again, she left and I was left to clean up my life. I faced community service for my crimes however the crime was solved with my help and when the police found the man he was sitting in the dark with a circle of salt surrounding him watching my little pony with horrible burns. He was arrested and sent to an asylum by his own convictions. I assume Robin went away peacefully after doing her part, maybe she stayed and saw his arrest however I believe she just left. I attended her funeral, her mother cried, her father left the room a lot. Brian was there, I could tell his consciousness was heavy with the idea he had contributed to someone's death or been able to prevent it but not done that, he was never the same. Her so called friends Kristy and Lillian were there, her therapist, and her extended family that could drive in from california to oregon. When I went up to view the casket I saw her cold face, beautifully made up in professional makeup, honestly it was weird, I missed the face only I knew, her real face and her faded hair all curly. Her cuts were hidden with a long dress and sleeves. After the funeral her mother approached me.

“Roy?”

“Yes..?”

“Okay, funny I’ve never met you, thank you for being such a good friend to my daughter! She left you something… I was almost like she knew she was going away…” Sadly she handed me an envelope with a hastily scrawled name on the front. Robin's mother was pale and mousy, her nervous eyes reminded me of a rabbits, hopping from place to place.

Dear Roy,

Thank you for being the truest friend I’ve ever had, you never lied to me and you helped me when I needed you most! You're my hero. Good luck with Marina, make her chase you… Sorry I can’t be your best man! Thank you! Enclosed is a remembrance gift!

Inside the package was a small drawing of a boy with a roguish expression on his face and a girl laughing openly riding on a motorbike that was blue and white. They seemed suspended in time carfree. I hung it on my wall, to this day I still muse over its detail and how the pencil has not faded yet.

Robin was the best and the worst thing to happen to me. I was labeled a criminal and a hero, I became not normal but am still unsure on how to become normal or not normal. It never worked out with Marina, she was to flakey and flirty. I married a beautiful, smart nerd at the age of thirty and started a family. Life runs smoothly and I wonder how Robin is doing, heaven? Rebirth? Whatever she is doing I hope she is happy as I am.