#i need someone or something to hold me accountable and knock some sense into me

[leclercsluvs]

CL16 | Already Over | smau

part 3 | masterlist

an: this will include sort of cheating (not really sure what to classify it as), and for that i am going to be using pics of charles and alex, however do i see any alex hate you are blocked or something, thank you very much) fc: sabrina carpenter pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader ib: vicious by @azulpitlane and the album 'emails i can't send' by sabrina carpenter

charles_leclerc

liked by scuderiaferrari, carlossainz55 and 1.503.666 others charles_leclerc nice weekend! i'm happy with my results, and glad to finally introduce you to my girl <3 tagged: scuderiaferrari, carlossainz55

danielricciardo mate what?

carlossainz55 i literally saw her like once

lecworld oop the tea is being spilled

pierregasly great job this weekend! (very unimpressed i find out about your relationship through insta, i'm hurt)

landonorris what's her name again?

alex_albon wow you almost cut me out

charles_leclerc sorry mate i needed to fit in carlos carlossainz55 i do look amazing in that photo

y/nswrld damn the drivers did not hold back

ricsbestglam ikrrr??? like whats going onnnn?? i need the teaaa lecs.aep riiiight?? it's a neeeed

f1wagsupdates

liked by lecslvr, sharl.aep and 693 others f1wagsupdates charles new girlfriend spotted at the race! she looks so pretty, yet we haven't been able to find out what her name is tagged: charles_leclerc

lecslvr oh my goddd she's gorgeous

leclercs.aep she looks a lot like someone i've seen around in paris. i think she goes to one of the art schools there, i think her name is alexandra or something like that

f1girl1644 we must DIG and find her! charles_lechair or maybe theres a reason charles hasn't told anyone her @ like maybe she likes that people can't stalk her account and point out every flaw

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, yourbff and 2.562.827 others yourusername give me a second to forget i ever really meant it 🫨 fast times out now! music video out in a few days. hope you enjoy it (the dark hair is just a wig, i didn't dye my hair for a mv)

y/nsworld NEW MUSICC???

y/n.aep omg totally in love with this song!

scfty/n oh so they're like over over??

lecslvr i guess 😭 charles was literally seen kissing a girl and posting her on his ig

norris.aep oh is this going to be an album? about CHARLES??

lqvey/n omg i HOPEEE

danielricciardo so proud of you!

yourusername thank uuuu

carlossainz55 very nice song!

yourusername 🥰

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, milomanheim and 3.413.034 others yourusername feather is out now!! thank you to everyone who's supported me, and a big thanks to milo for agreeing to be the guy in the elevator 💔 anyway here's a few sneak peaks for the music video, personally my fav, out october 31st!! tagged: milomanheim

y/nsb1tch ohhh who did you blockkk?

yourfriend so you finally listened?

yourusername well i suppose someone knocked some sense into me yourbff happy to be of help 🫡 yoursister girl you should have listened from the beginning. he was BAD NEWS yourfriend we've been telling her!! yoursister did i tell how he responded when she was in that accident? yourbff uhm no??! do spill!!! yoursister TO THE GROUPCHAT yourusername oh lord....

milomanheim thanks for giving me this opportunity. never been in a music video and i did enjoy being the guy in the elevator. even if i didn't get that happy ending

yourusername we'll work together again sometime, and you'll get your happy ending 🙃

luvmilo UHMM WHAT?? okay but like he's gonna eat that role up no matter what it is

leclercssupportsystem okay but why does that guy lowkey look a bit like charles??? i fear 'guy in the elevator' and 'not happy ending' is not good LMAO did she kill him in the mv or something?

yourusername 👀

danielricciardo proud to have been an inspiration 😌

yourusername inspiration and inspiration 🤷‍♀️ sure we were texting when the idea came, but you didn't contribute much :) carlossainz55 she owned you mate danielricciardo now that's just rude :(( yourusername sorry. thanks for the amazing inspiration daniel 🫶 landonorris did you get a sneak peak of it too? maxverstappen1 only a sneak peak? i got the whole song like a week ago 🤷‍♂️ pierregasly you guys got to hear it? kevinmagnussen you guys knew about it?

lcvssjeed some of the drivers being in the comments is making my heart super happy

y/nsvfx no because same! maybe we’ll see her back in the paddock again? 👀 yourusername: wouldn’t wanna miss lando get his first win 😉 vspxcharles OMG OMG OMG SHE REPLIED

scuderiaferrari

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 1.329.082 others scuderiaferrari a nice 1-2 this weekend! happy to see charles on top of that podium again! tagged: charles_leclerc, carlosssainz55

charles_leclerc felt good to be back on top!

carlossainz55 such a good weekend! can't wait for more

leclerswings hes such and angel! 😇

lecsgirl so we just decided to ignore that he supposedly cheated on y/n??

leclerc16 CHARLES P1!!! congratssss

char.aeps so once he drops y/n he starts performing great again? do we think she was the reason he couldn't perform?

angelic.y/n don't you dare try and put the blame on my baby angel! char.aeps she's not so innocent tho 💀 angelic.y/n what's that supposed to mean? was she the one running around being all flirty with two people at once? didn't think so

yourusername

liked by landonorris, yourbff and 2.562.827 others yourusername vicious out now! happy i was able to perform it at coachella! such an experience!

danielricciardo wow you never fail to amaze!

maxverstappen1 is this about a certain person we all collectively don't like?

yourusername perhaps 🤭 maxverstappen1 good to know landonorris may i ask, why you have not done something about it? maxverstappen1 what do you want me to do? pierregasly push him off the track. take revenge for 2012 maxverstappen1 do not remind me of that or i'll push YOU off the track.

carlossainz55 amazing!

y/ncore the drivers being so supportive even tho it's about charles treating y/n like shit is my roman empire

lestappenlvr love how she tries and makes it seem like charles was the bad guy 🙄

y/n.vsp maybe because he was the bad guy? lestappenlvr and how would you know?? y/n.vsp i dont, but hearing these songs, idk i dont think we should jump to any conclusions since we don't have the full story, but we all saw charles running around with that "alexandra" girl while he was definitely still with y/n lestappenlvr well if you dont know why are you speaking about it?? y/n.vsp y'know i could ask you the same thing.

leclercs.aep maybe she should have kept her legs closed lmao

yourusername

liked by yourfriend, yourbff and 2.562.827 others yourusername i wish we stayed just like we were up there </3

yourbff we should hang out soon!

yourusername uhm yes! yourfriend i better be invited! yourusername duh!! danielricciardo can i have an invite too? yourbff depends are you like *that guy*? danielricciardo uhh never 🫠 yourusername you can be there :))

y/nsangel aww how cute (who is she talking about?)

scfty/n probably charles? y/nsangel who? scfty/n charles_leclerc they used to date a little while ago, but it's suspected he cheated on her

scfty/n literally in love with her

y/nswrld who isnt?

scuderiaferrari

liked by charles_leclerc, leclercsbae and 729.362 others scuderiaferrari hoping for another 1-2 finish this weekend! tagged: charles_leclerc, carlossainz55

leclercsbae charles looks so gooooood!!

charles_leclerc definitely going to try!!

carlossainz55 better hope for a P2, i’m going for that top step 💪 charles_leclerc keep dreaming mate, i’m taking that P1 yourusername oh so you do know how to reply?? angelic.y/n oop the tea clfan girl what are you doing here? you're not with him anymore y/n.video they might not be, but her and carlos seems to be friends, so it makes sense shes still following ferrari chili55 i’ve never seen them interact? luvy/n he’s been really supportive of her music, commenting on her post and using her songs on his story

maxv3rs1appen_ i doubt it. with max and red bull being strong you should be lucky to get P3

norris.vfx nahhh lando is gonna get his win this weekend (let me be delulu i need it)

yourusername we're rooting for him 💪

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, yourbff and 3.927.175 others yourusername thank you to everyone who's been with me through this journey. i'm happy to finally be back on tour, emails i can't send has been out for a few days, i hope you like this album i've been working on. i will not be naming any names, but if a song is about you, you probably know 😉

yourbff SO HAPPY YOU'RE BACKKK (i better get tickets>:(!!)

yourusername i guess you'll have to buy them then 🤷‍♀️

video.y/n okay so i went to one of the first concerts of the tour AND SOME OF THE DRIVERS WERE THERE 🥹

angelic.y/n waittt you have to tell which ones!! video.y/n well carlos, daniel, lando, pierre, max, george, lewis, kevin, alex and logan all stood together (so i assume they went together???) leclercsluv no way!! i went to! i actually saw a certain charles in the crowd and i was pretty shocked

danielricciardo one of the best concerts i've been to

maxverstappen1 usually i don't go to concerts, but i'd go to y/n's again in a heartbeat danielricciardo ofc you would ;) landonorris now what is that supposed to mean daniel??? 🤨 danielricciardo 🤐 yourusername thank you all for being there 🥰 it meant a lot to me 🫶 danielricciardo especially max 👀 alex_albon daniel behave 😑

lecslover charles lurking in the likes???

charles_leclerc i truly am sorry for what i did. do you think you'd ever be able to forgive me?

youbff no. yourfriend no. yoursister no. danielricciardo no. yourusername maybe with time. not right now tho. go take care of your new girl. you'll know when i'm ready.

-

okay so i'm actually a little sad that this is over. i really enjoyed writing this and making it. i'm sure i'll do something like it again at one point. if you have any requests for what you'd like for me to maybe do then don't hesitate to lmk! <3

part 4

tags: @exotic-iris13 @callsignwidow

[loveinhawkins]

ao3

A gnawing sense of foreboding creeps up on Steve as they head to Eddie’s trailer, armed with weapons.

He tries to outrun it through action: ensuring he’s the first one to go through the Gate; jumping back and forth between The Upside Down and their world whenever someone forgets something, “It’s okay, I’ve got it!”; triple checking that the cables for Eddie’s amps are long enough; searching for the slightest thing than seizing upon it with an enthusiasm bordering on desperate, “Hey, we could use this, right? Better take it, just in case.”

But that only works for so long, and then Steve’s just standing in Eddie’s kitchen, the real one, staring blankly at the cupboards, all out of distractions.

Out of time.

He hears a grunt of exertion behind him, then an unsteady landing, a muffled curse. Eddie.

“Jesus Christ, Steve. Wanted to fit your aerobics routine in?”

He’s teasing, so light-hearted despite it all; Steve can’t stand it.

Keeps his back turned, gut twisting, opening the cupboards then slamming them shut, thump, thump. He doesn’t know what he’s looking for. He never has.

“Uh, so I was thinking,” Eddie continues, like Steve’s not doing anything weird, “that I could stretch out the, um, the song? My playing? Could buy you some more time, anyway.”

“Sure, great,” Steve says shortly.

He thinks—with a numb kind of calm—that he’s going to be sick.

He gets to the bathroom, tries to shut the door, but his grip slips on the handle.

Turns on the faucet, scoops cold water from his hands into his mouth, and it helps until it doesn’t, until he’s almost choking on it, and he’s been here before, the feeling familiar: a shadow looming over him, just waiting, waiting, and he knows it’ll pass, it always does, but he can’t stop thinking of Robin, it might not work out for us this time, and what if, what if—

He can hear Eddie knocking on the doorframe, just out of view—as if he’d seen Steve’s failed attempt at shutting the door and wanted to respect it.

“Hey, man, you okay?” Then Eddie mutters to himself, “Obviously not, get a fucking clue.”

Steve’s laugh is strangled but real. He wipes his mouth dry and shuts off the water.

“You don’t need to talk to a wall, dude,” he says.

And Eddie steps into view, leans against the open door. His eyes flicker across Steve’s face, and Steve doesn’t want to know what he’s noticed, so when Eddie opens his mouth hesitantly, he speaks first.

“We should—they’re gonna wonder where we are.”

Eddie pauses on the verge of speech; Steve watches him reevaluate whatever he was going to say.

“Well,” Eddie says, gesturing to the bathroom, matter-of-fact, “we could be peeing.”

Steve manages a chuckle. “You’re an idiot.”

Eddie grins like he’s saying yup, that’s me, like he’s won a prize.

Steve has seen him wear something close to that expression not even an hour ago: when the kids had started a line to use the bathroom in the RV, and Eddie had snorted, giggled with a childish kind of delight, “You—ha! You all look like you’re on a field trip,” before joining the line himself—calling out that he hoped their plan accounted for bathroom breaks because, “There’s no way I’m pissing in the alternate dimension,” and that had made Nancy break, laughing in a way Steve was certain he hadn’t heard since ‘83.

Eddie steps into the room and shuts the door quietly. Steve gets why: his breathing’s still all wrong, and if Dustin happened to see him, he doesn’t think he’d ever forgive himself.

“Sorry.” Steve sucks in a breath, tries to hold it. Loses it in an exhale that shudders at the edges. He speaks through the tail end of it, hoping that’s enough to conceal the sound, “Gimme, like, two minutes.”

“Make it ten,” Eddie says.

The way he says it makes it seem like it’s already a done deal; he must’ve spoken to Robin and Nancy before he tumbled through the Gate.

Despite himself, Steve feels a wave of relief: just for a little while, he has time; it overpowers the shame, leaves him sinking down to sit on the closed toilet seat.

He closes his eyes, just breathes. In… out… in…

He doesn’t realise that Eddie’s sitting down, too, until he hears the clunk of his boots, the rustle of clothing as he moves.

“Sorry,” Steve says again, and it annoyingly still comes out a little shaky, like he’s in the pool and he’s left it too long to snatch a breath. “You can go back, man, I’ll… I’ll be right there.”

He opens his eyes to see Eddie shaking his head, sat with his back against the bathtub.

“Stop apologising,” Eddie says, and then it’s as if the seriousness of it is too much for him, because he adds, with a self-deprecating smile that Steve hates, “I get it. You’re walking into the dragon’s lair, I’m just putting on a concert.”

“Don’t,” Steve says, and he doesn’t intend for the word to come out as sharp as it does, but that doesn’t change the fact that he means it. He means it.

Eddie’s smile fades.

“Don’t,” Steve repeats, quieter. Not quite an apology.

Slowly, he moves off the toilet seat, until he’s sat next to Eddie. There’s just enough space that they don’t need to touch, but Steve presses his shoulder against Eddie’s anyway, like he can somehow pass on everything he means through that alone.

Eddie sighs, presses back for just a second. “Don’t what?” he asks. He sounds tired all of a sudden.

“Don’t—don’t joke like that,” Steve says. “Like you’re not—” He swallows. “Like it’s not dangerous.”

There’s a pause. Eddie reaches across and puts a hand on Steve’s knee. Squeezes briefly and pulls back; already Steve finds that he misses the warmth of him.

“Hey, don’t worry,” Eddie says. There’s no joke in this, not a trace. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to Dustin.” Another smile. Gentle. “Swear on his mother.”

I’m not worried about that, Steve wants to say, but of course that’s not true; he’s tried hard not to look at Dustin directly ever since they arrived at the trailer, because his throat would start to close up alarmingly whenever his gaze lingered, and he knows the kid’s doing that whole semi-aloof teenager thing lately, but a part of him still wants to hold him tight and never let go.

It’s more that the shape of Steve’s worry is different to what he thinks Eddie’s imagining, covers more than Dustin’s safety alone—that the cold dread in his stomach brings him back to the tunnels in ‘84; to clutching Dustin, who was so small, Steve desperately trying to shield him with his own body, thinking the kid’s thirteen, only thirteen, this isn’t fucking fair; and that if this had to end one way, all he could do was pray that he’d be the only one to…

And Steve hadn’t wanted to die, but he was suddenly facing it anyway, and Christ, looking back at it, that was crazy, the whole damn thing was crazy, but it all made a twisted kind of sense at the time.

Eddie must spot that his train of thought’s gone down a dark alley because he knocks their knees together, but he doesn’t say anything. Just breathes, slumped against the bathtub; it’s probably the first time he’s been still—truly still—in a long while.

He must be exhausted, Steve thinks.

The gnawing feeling digs in, grips his heart.

“I can hear you thinking,” Eddie says quietly. “Listen, Steve, I know I’m new to, uh… all of this shit, but I’m on it, okay? Got it all up in here,” he taps the side of his head, “trust me—”

That’s not what—I trust you, of fucking course I do, but—

“—no deviations, and—”

“Plans change,” Steve says, and he hears himself, the calm decisiveness, just get ready; Dustin’s scream carrying across the junkyard, Steve, abort, abort! “Just… just promise me.”

“Promise you?” Eddie murmurs.

Steve feels the words on his tongue, the weight of them. Don’t do anything stupid. 

He swallows them down—afraid suddenly that if he really puts a name to it, it’s going to happen.

Fuck it, he’s exhausted too, and for a long moment he evades speaking: gingerly rests his head on Eddie’s shoulder. Feels his body heat, the swell of his breathing.

Eddie doesn’t tense up, just lets him rest there. 

If I kissed you, Steve thinks, drained, would you stay?

He doesn’t say it. Instead he lifts his head and asks, “What are you doing tomorrow?”

Eddie chuckles. They’re still so close, Steve can feel his amused sigh.

“Tomorrow? I’ve not really… like, hopefully I’m not in jail. Anything else is a bonus.”

“We’ll fix it,” Steve says fiercely. “Trust me.”

“Oh, I believe you,” Eddie says, grinning fondly, but he sounds genuine. “Shit, man, I think you could do anything.” He gestures outside. “Got the fucking dream team out there.”

“We solved a secret Russian code last summer.”

Eddie laughs. “Did you?” His eyes sparkle with mirth.

You’re beautiful.

“Gospel truth, I swear,” Steve says. He tries to stay light, but he makes the vow anyway. “I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

I have so much to tell you.

They stand up, and Steve doesn’t know who’s the first one to move—just that they both probably sensed the time dwindling.

And maybe it’s that, the inescapable thought that something’s coming to an end that does it. Steve doesn’t know for sure, just knows that his eyes are burning suddenly—mortifyingly—with tears. He looks up at the ceiling, hurriedly trying to push them back, but Eddie notices anyway.

“Steve, what is it?” he whispers, with a look of utter devastation.

Steve shakes his head. “Just being stupid,” he says, voice brittle, cutting himself off before he can say something ridiculous.

God, Eddie, let’s just stay here and grow old.

“You’re not stupid,” Eddie says, heartfelt—he stops just short of touching Steve; he clearly wants to help so badly, but he doesn’t know how.

Steve wants to tell him it’s fine. He doesn’t know either.

Maybe nothing can help this.

They leave for the Gate in unspoken agreement; at first Steve finds comfort in the sight of Eddie dangling on the rope, not quite in either world. Like every possibility is laid out before him.

I’ll tell you tomorrow.

But there’s a near imperceptible shift as Eddie keeps climbing, and Steve needs to look away, anything to avoid the pit in his stomach: the suspicion that the path’s already been chosen.

[starkwlkr]

Could you do fic for James Vowles with wife reader? James and Alex had been lounging and capturing pictures around the track and he decided to take pictures of her because well she's beautiful in his eyes. So, when someone gets hold of the camera, they decide to give them an album for their anniversary. And that picture is on it. Just something fluff and cute. I don't know if it makes sense. Thanks!! :)))

happy anniversary | james vowles

no faceclaim i just like putting pictures lol 🫶🏼 @pear-1206

requests are closed

recently alex had gotten a camera. he wasn’t going to follow lando daniel’s footsteps of making an instagram account just for his pictures, this was for fun. he was on the track with his team principal, james, trying out different setting and taking pictures of anything he liked.

“the sunset is pretty.” alex commented as he held his camera up to take a picture of the sunset. before he could take the shot, he noticed his girlfriend, lily, and you, james’ wife, walking the track. he decided to take the picture anyway. “maybe i should change my career.” he joked as he showed james the picture he just took.

“i still need my driver.” james replied. he took a look at the photo and smiled. after many years of dating and marriage, he fell more in love with you everyday. “do you mind if i borrow that for a minute?” he gestured to the camera.

“go ahead, i promised lily we would go to dinner. you can leave it in my driver’s room.” alex said as he left to go get lily so they could go to dinner.

from his spot, james watched as lily and alex left the track, leaving you behind. that’s when james got the bright idea of taking multiple pictures of you.

“you look beautiful, my love.” james called out as you were getting closer to him.

“james! no, i look horrible.” you playfully rolled your eyes. “at least get my good side.”

“every side is your good side, now show me your beautiful smile.” he instructed as he positioned the camera.

you followed his instructions. you weren’t sure how many he was taking so you stopped posing which caused him to groan.

“don’t stop, you look really pretty.” he lowered the camera and showed you the results.

“isn’t this alex’s camera? i think he’ll find it weird that his camera is filled photos of his team principal’s wife.” you looked at the other photos. “oh my god, i do look pretty!”

“that’s what i was saying!”

eventually alex did find the pictures of you when he got his camera back. he didn’t mind, after all it was just for fun. when he showed lily, she found it adorable.

“wait, i think their anniversary is in a few days. we can make an album for them with these pictures! we have to do it!” of course alex said yes, who could say no to lily?

so after a quick trip to the store to buy an album and print the pictures, lily and alex spent the night making your anniversary present.

a few days later, you were in james’ office sitting in the chair across from him at his desk. you were enjoying lunch together when a knock interrupted you. james wasn’t expecting anyone and his team knew it was his lunch break so he was confused.

“come in!” he called out.

seconds later, the door opened revealing lily, alex and several williams team members. even you were confused, probably more than james.

“sorry to disturb you, but we have a gift.” alex announced as he revealed a wrapped gift complete with a bow. “happy anniversary, we hope you like it.” he gave the present to you since you were closest to him.

“alex, don’t i will cry.” you said as you looked at james. “do you want to open it or should i?”

“go ahead, my love.” he nodded.

so you teared open the wrapping paper to reveal an album that had your and james’ names printed on it. you quickly showed james then opened it to reveal the pictures that your husband has taken of you.

“oh my god, this is beautiful.” you commented. “i mean, yeah it’s me, but still.” you said making everyone laugh.

“we also put in some pictures from your instragam, mrs. vowles, you know the ones from your wedding day, the day he proposed. it’s all in there.” alex added.

“i think i am crying, thanks alex i’m crying in front of my pasta!” you joked then stood up to hug the couple for the present. that’s when you noticed the williams team had been recording your reaction.

“this is definitely going every williams social media account.” james laughed.

it was definitely no secret that social media loved the vowles’ and now, they loved you even more.

[writersundersiege]

New Girl in Town Part 3

Rafe Cameron x F! Reader

a/n: Hello, everybody, so this is my first time making an authors' note. I want to place one on this one since I’m new to posting, and also, this chapter took me two days to write, considering I did try to go in and add more depth to my characters. I want my reader (aka you) to have a broader sense of the world. As you can tell, she knows a lot about stuff most people don’t learn, has been to places many of us haven’t had the opportunity to visit and has experienced things I can only hope as a writer is not something you have experienced. But for the margin of you who have experienced any of these warnings below, If you need any resources, please reach out. I will work on putting resources on my account later on or anyone to talk to; my messages are always open to you all as readers of my work. Feel free to ask me questions, give me criticism, or suggest things to the story. I want to continue this for as long as you enjoy it. Thank you for supporting my work, and I hope you enjoy the new chapter

————————————————————————

To read any other parts of this series, click here:

The New Girl In Town - Masterlist

Summary: Rafe accepts the request from your father to fill your place at the clothes drive. When he gets there, he bumps into an unlikely but friendly face, your brother Jason. During the setup for the event, Rafe gets the chance to talk to your brother and find out more about you. What if he finds out your story goes deeper than he thought? Also, what will he do when he discovers more information about your friend who mysteriously pops into town

Warning: Grief of losing family and loved ones, fears of self-harm, peer pressure, allowing someone to binge drink, mentions of potential assault, swearing, self-doubt

As Rafe pulls up to the front of the country club, he parks and throws his bike helmet off immediately. He hurriedly starts walking, hand ghosting over his pockets, double checking for his wallet, keys, and phone and that they’re all still with him. As Rafe walks to the front, his palms are getting sweaty. Rafe never gets nervous. Usually, he’s the one controlling the situation, but with you, your family, it is so different it’s like you will slip out of his fingers the moment you make contact, like handfuls of sand slipping through every time you pick it up.

Rafe stops looking into the country club one last time, taking a deep breath. Rafe has never felt as though he deserves good things. Ward has always rewarded Sarah; the town continuously believes he’s either causing trouble or breaking someone’s daughter's heart; he’s aggressive, psychotic, and a loose cannon when it comes to you, you’re like a ghost to him; no matter where he goes, the image of you haunts him. He wants one thing to go well, one thing to go his way this time, and that’s the things with you.

Straighten up, he clears his throat and runs a hand through his hair as he begins the walk back into the country club; his phone pings with a message. He quickly pulls out his phone while still making his way inside

Unknown number: Thank you so much again, Rafe! I don’t know what I’d do without you, and I owe you one! 🫡💕

Rafe: you can always count on me, angel, always. Also, I’ll never turn down a good favor 😉

He watches as three bubbles appear like you’re about to answer when he runs smack into someone, sending him flying back and stumbling a bit; this has Rafe looking up, starting to say, “Watch where—“ and he cuts himself off because standing in front of him smiling from ear to ear is Jason holding a box of clothes while some still laid on the ground from the collision.

“Rafe, right? he says, smiling with a chuckle. “Seems like I can’t escape you, man if I’m hearing about you or seeing you, I'm nearly trying to knock you on your ass,” he leans down, picking up a shirt from the ground. “Are you here to help with the clothes drive?” Your brother turns to look at him, eyes big and bright like yours are but also kind in a way that makes Rafe want to spill his guts to the guy and tell him his life story; your brother has a soft smirk on his face, not one that is intimidating or meant to be mischievous but one that shows humility like he knows it’s not how Rafe would prefer to spend a random Thursday in June.

They were finally coming to full height, looking at each other. Jason looked to Rafe like an old friend waiting for him to tell them all the things they’d missed in the years past. Smile lines prominently shown on his cheeks, and his eyes creased on the corner just like your whole family has; it made Rafe wonder how often you all smiled to have such prominent and similar facial marks that show happiness and this aura that looks like the dude is being basked in the sun in the middle of a June evening in Kilandre.

Rafe, who at this point has bent down to pick up the last shirt to return to the box, having tucked his phone in his pocket, long forgotten is your response left unread and unanswered.

Rafe decides it’s now or never; he has to play some moves right for a bit, with no snarky attitude or outbursts; he must get this right with your family and you. Show them just how much of a lovely gentleman he can be.

Smiling back and placing the shirt in the box, he looks up to meet your brother's eye, channeling the irritation and pent-up anger from earlier into charm and charisma; both aren’t so far from each other; all depends on lines and delivery.

“ I am here to help. I was not expecting it, but I’m happy to be here. Also, don’t worry about bumping into me. I should have watched where I was going.” Smiling and shaking his head, he motioned with his head inside. “Well, get in there, man. Moms about to give out-groups.” walking down the steps and to your blue Jeep of all things, he turns back to Rafe, calling out, “Also, you’ll have to try and nab us a spot with some of the girls, few in there are our age and they are pretty girls,” you brother says with an awarding smile on his face and wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, spinning on heels jogging over to the back of your Jeep.

Rafe shakes his head, looking down, knowing there isn’t a single girl in the whole country club, hell, on the entire island, perhaps even this planet that compares to you. All the more, he’ll help your brother out. What better way to get close than becoming your brother's best friend? A smirk evolves on his face now that right there is a plan and a good one.

Rafe walks through the entrance down the hall to the ballroom area where they usually hold parties and events; there are tons of different Kooks from Figure 8 here to help; he sees a few of the women Rose gossips with after pilates on Wednesdays, a few of the single kook dads who you can tell their sole purpose of helping was your mother who they are ogling, as well as a few of the islands Kook kids Sarah and Topper stand near Ally and Kayla two girls they all went to school with and a boy who he can’t see with his back to Rafe.

Scanning the room more, Kiara is sitting crisscross on the ground, folding baby clothes and watching as your mom describes the night Kiara’s parents are seated at a table behind your mom, quietly talking and writing on papers. Suddenly, Rafes broke from his search of the crowd as your mom's voice rang in his ears, making a beeline for him. “Rafe, you came?” she said this with so much joy, not like she expected him to fail or disappoint her; then, before he knew it, she was wrapping her arms around Rafe's large frame, his arms limp at his sides, patting her back where he could reach but smiling and laying his head on your moms saying “Of course, I’m here Andy, where do you need me I’m ready to help however I can.”

Your mom pulls back, showing her glittering smile, stilling, holding Rafe by the shoulders and gently reaching up to pat his cheek. “You are a good boy, Rafe.” she moves her hand, turning him to look at the crowd. “your sister, I believe she is here. You can stand with her. I’ll put you in a good group, don’t you worry,” she gives Rafe a wink and chuckles, walking off back to the table where Kiara’s parents sit and kneeling in front of the table, looking at the papers they were writing on.

Once again, he eyes the crowd, scoffing when he watches a few of the single dads congregating and staring at your mom's behind, kneeling until one the guy he believes to be Mr. Chusing, who owns a law firm here in Kilandre. he watches as Mr.Chusing kneels right next to your mom and put his hand on her lower back. Your mom stands immediately and politely puts her ring finger on her chest, prominently showing the man her ring. Rafe smiles, shaking his head, knowing your family is a good set of people.

Rafe looks around again at the group standing with his sister; Sarah and Topper are focused on a guy who looks his age; he notices the guy talking animatedly, which makes everyone laugh. Sarah was laughing so hard she had to wipe tears from her eyes. He walks toward the group when he feels a hand on his shoulder. He turns to find your brother; he looks at him, and he shakes his head as if saying “No” and then shakes his head to the other side, where Kiara sits folding, and he follows him.

“Trust me, you do not even want to go over there, no matter how much fun they look like they are having; that kid is a rat,” Rafe frowns, looking over at the group again as he sits next to Jason, not too far from Kiara folding sock’s together.

He looks at the group, inspecting the boy; he is pretty tall around Rafe's height but not much muscle in his upper body, a thinner build, his hair is a sandy blonde color and curly, kind of like he just got a perm, he turns and sees the guys face he’s pretty tan with a set of perfect white teeth just like your family and even from here Rafe sits he sees the green of his eyes were like sea algae growing on his iris.

Rafe looks at your brother, who is already scowling in the boy's direction. “What did he do?” Jason harshly folds a pair of jeans, looking down on them, not meeting Rafe's eyes once. “He has no respect, loyalty, grace, love, compassion, empathy. I don’t know humanity,” shrugging his shoulders and slamming the pants in the box sitting next to him

Kiara looks up from the baby clothes she sits with, eyebrows arching at Jason. “You good?” she asks like she’s confused. Jason shakes his head, looking down at his hand, shaking and flexing his fingers a few times. Rafe and Kiara look at each other, and she stands to move closer and kneel by your brother. They look back down on the newly bright boy, who seems to be slowly withering in front of them.

“What’s up, bro?” Rafe reaches his hand over to your brother's shoulder with uncertainty; when he makes contact, Jason’s head drops down, hands coming to his face. “You know I was supposed to be with him- them. When they went out there, I was supposed to go with Luca and Cameron on that fishing trip, and I wasn’t because of a damn Stats test. I couldn’t break my honor roll; I couldn’t stop..” Jason’s words are muffled and broken off at the end because he’s looking down with his hands over his eyes, the energy to finally let go of what he’s been holding in dwindling before it’s even sparked.

Rafe knows immediately where this is going for them. He saw it on your face when he asked, and he’s seeing it all over again: a family that seems so picture perfect having a moment where it looks like the world shatters, but for just a moment, you’ll never let them see it too long, but why? Maybe it’s the same reason Rafe is known as the aggressor because of the sentiment he thinks of repeatedly when he’s alone; if people knew the truth, would they still like you? or would they hate it just as much as you do?

What broke Rafes thought was your brother looking up, eyes tinged pink with the welled tears created from the silence, and him looking at the boy across the room leaning into Sarah’s ear to whisper something that made Topper look like he was about to pop his lid. “I may hate myself every day for not being there with them. But I thank god every day for keeping me here and sending me home when Luca was pronounced dead every day to catch that sick son of a bitch over there” Rafe and Kiara both turn to look at Jason with a questioning look he can already feel anger bubbling within him knowing something happened.

“When my sister found out Luca was gone, she was a mess for weeks. Honestly, it would have been months if it weren’t for Luca’s best man, best mate since birth, Ethan; he spent every day with (F/N) and took her to the beach to be near Luca, the aquarium where they had their first date, it was great for months he was the only one who could get her to sleep and eat, but it all went downhill on the six month anniversary and a certain area that struck me as strange one not but basically there is this hiking trail in the neighborhood we lived in back in Malibu that goes up to the cliffs it’s gorgeous and super secluded it was only a place Luca knew and took (F/N)” Jason paused looking down grabbing more clothes to fold

“Cameron told me that that was Luca and (F/N)’s spot..” He trails off, not waiting to discuss this part, but it’s intentional for the story. On the other hand, Kiara gets it immediately, knowing this must be hard for him to talk about on a typical day, but more so for two boys; he called his family and is now gone. Rafe completely misses the hint and frowns at Kiara, giving her eyes like, ‘wtf.’ She looks at him and says, “Sorry for this, Jason, Rafe; it was the first place she was intimate with someone. Get it now.” Rafe's eyes go wide, and he feels his heart drop to the pit of his stomach, but the story can’t wait for him to recover

Jason looks up with the tiniest chuckle. “Don’t worry, dude, it took Cam a while to tell me, too. I played dumb. I didn’t want to know what it was my baby sister was up to in that way anyway; on the six-month anniversary of Luca and Cam's death (F/N), she was distraught; she still had hope he was coming home, but by nearly half a year without him, the light for her simmered out. Everyone was over at our house here and there all day, and nothing. None of her friends, our extended family, or even Luca’s mother could get her out to accept a plate. Eventually, we let her be; we didn’t want to overwhelm the hurt she felt already because none of us knew exactly what she felt.” he looked down, shaking his head. Rafe brings his hand back to his shoulder, squeezing it. At the same time, Kiara says, “ Jason, you don’t have to tell us if it’s something that makes you uncomfortable.” this makes the older boy in front of them shake his head more. “ no, I’ve kept this on my chest too long, and every time I bring it up, everybody else shuts it down cause he’s family in their eyes if he said nothing happened they believe him. I need somebody else to listen and hear me out.”

Kiara looks around to see if anyone has moved since the start of this conversation, and Rafe settles back, one eye on Jason, the other on this new kid he doesn’t like in his peripheral. Kiara turns to Jason, letting him know no one’s listening and he’s good, indicating they haven’t moved a muscle or a manicured nail yet. Jason clears his throat and says, “That night, by ten thirty, I had enough. I hadn’t seen my sister in over 24 hours at that point, and I was scared. They were special to me; I mean, Cameron was my best friend since I was born. I didn’t care if she wanted to scream at me or have me hold her and cry with her. I just wanted to see my sister was okay, so I snuck to her room and knocked slightly, opening the door to check on her, and when I opened the door, she was gone.” he looked down at his hand, ringing them together back and forth like a wet rag eventually he looks up like he saw a ghost in front of him “I’ve never been more scared in my life than running to her bed and feeling that her sheets were cold she hadn't been there for at least an hour.”

Kiara put her hands on his to stop him from rubbing his skin raw. “ immediately, I went to find my friends to see if there was anything; when I checked her location, she was at her spot, but what I couldn’t understand was why she would go someplace so desolate, so lonely by herself first I was screaming waking up my parents I thought she was doing something horrible until I thought a little deeper and the only person we didn’t see all day long who didn’t come to help the family as well as Ethan.”

At this point in the story, Rafe is already seething with anger thinking about you being taken somewhere so dangerous at such a late hour; Rafe turns to laughter looking at the boy, staring at the boy across the room with a vicious look, and Jason, scowling at the boy, for whom he feels so much anger as well. Kiara, in some act of comfort, holds Jason’s hand, rubbing her hand over his knuckles, trying to calm him down. Jason clears his throat once more. “When I got there, she was so drunk she couldn’t even tell me her name; she doesn’t remember that night. He swears up and down nothing happened, but it seems like ever since that day, he will not leave her alone. It’s like he believes what belonged to Luca now belongs to him, and I can’t take it; every time I see him, I want to kill him.”

Rafe turns for a moment to look at your brother's face for the first time since he met your family; he sees the slightest glimmer of darkness behind his eye, the same kind Rafe has; the same one so many people in this town warn others about with Rafe, and then just like the sun on a rainy day it’s there and gone before you believe you saw it. His eyes only showed the cloud of grief and hurt.

Rafe pats his back again and says, “You’re in the Outerbanks now, bro, and your sister is safe; the people out here, our people, we’ll have her back.” Kiara gives Rafe a look like you can’t be serious about telling this boy he can trust any kook; the only trustworthy people on this island were the pogues and, more specifically, her group of friends.

Like always, though, with rich boys, they band together, not even acknowledging the look on Kiara's face. Jason looks up and says, “Thank you, Rafe. I appreciate you hearing me out, and my sister was right about you, that’s for sure.” Rafe's eyes blow out, and his neck turns red as he shakes his head and says, “Your sister is something else.”

To further this thread of thoughts in Rafe's mind, he feels his phone ping twice and pulls it from his back pocket

(F/N)🌊💕: Angel huh? I like that one, and yes, Rafe, I now owe you A favor that means only one. Don’t think I’m out here doing favors for anyone!

sent at 6:15 pm

(F/N)🌊💕: We should hang out sometime, maybe catch some waves tomorrow??

sent at 7:00 pm

(F/N)🌊💕: I’m heading to bed; let me know :) Thank you again, and see you around Reef 🪸🐠

sent at 7:30

Scanning these messages, Rafe starts to type a response before he’s even finished reading but immediately deletes it, thinking it better to let you sleep since something made you sick. Turning to your brother and pondering just what did make you head out? He asks, “Hey, what ma—“ but before he could finish, your mom was calling groups

“Okay, everyone, we will split into groups to make distributions easy. Take a little of each kind of clothing, men to babies, with you. The spot I give you is where you will be sitting at a distribution table, which my wonderful daughter (F/N) and her friend Ethan helped set up.” Ethan smiled and waved around at the people who were looking for you “ (F/N) who is unfortunately very sick and has to raincheck on being here was the mind of this event, and she was overwhelmed and overjoyed of the community outreach here; it shouldn’t take us more than 45 minutes to get rid of these items and help some families in need.” Everyone starts to clap. Jason stands and lends a hand out to Kiara and helps her stand as Rafe stands and moves to make sure he has a good line of sight on the pretty boy with no manners.

Everything is muffled as he stands examining the boy who’s most likely 20 feet across the ballroom from him, trying to catch a slip of any kind and the fun demeanor he’s been portraying all evening. Still, he seems respectful and well-mannered. Rafe watches, knowing under the stone image of a nice guy is a monster clawing its way back out.

Rafe hearing his name is what diverts his attention. “Rafe, would you mind leading the last group?” he looks to your mother, smiling; he shakes his head, dying inside but smiling, saying, “Would be happy to Andy.” This being out, Rafe sees for the first time in the evening; the boys' eyes snap, and it is immediately like the pin pulled from a grenade getting ready to blow.

Rafe sees Ethan’s eye lock with his; you would think Rafe has lit his house on fire and spit in his face with the disgusting face he throws his way. Rafe stares back, the usual dark look in his eye, a smirk on his face, knowing now this kid knows the monster has met its match. Looking at Ethan but saying to your mother, “Where would you like us?”

Rafe is walking outside to your jeep with your brother in hot pursuit, with no emotions, as he carries boxes to be loaded in the back. His group comprises Jason, Kiara, Sarah, Topper, the girls, and the goon. They all agreed to take separate cars, Kayla and Ally with Kiara in her vehicle; Topper and Sarah were so kind as to offer to take Ethan, leaving Jason to drive Rafe in your jeep. As they loaded the back with their few boxes, Jason turned to Rafe with an almost incredulous look. “I know what I told you is a lot to believe—“ Rafe stops him by simply saying, “I see it; in his eyes, he’s done something, and he doesn’t like me 'cause she does.” They had an entire moment of understanding between the young men he had done something that night, and now they both knew, and they will know what happened eventually.

This has both boys rounding the car and hopping in. Jason turns on the car, but before turning off the country club driveway with his hand on the wheel, he turns to Rafe again. “Just don’t let him provoke you, bro; he can be complicated. I told you the kid likes to be a bit of—“ Rafe looks at him with literally no emotion on his face saying, “a bitch.”

Jason laughs, throwing his head back against the headrest for the first time since he greeted him; he sees brightness return to Jason’s face; he lays his head there a moment, laughter dying back slowly. He shakes his head, bringing it forward. “Ethan is a crude bastard, and he’s not afraid to say what he thinks even if it's stupid, but he also likes to pick a good fight.” This has Jason looking at Rafe dead in the eyes, more serious than he’s seen or heard anyone in your family this far.

He says, “Don’t let him provoke you.” Rafe frowns, but Jason looks at him like a kid whose parents picked him up during a fight at school, and they’re waiting for him to say what he knows and won’t. Rafe starts to get a little pissed. “What makes you think he’ll—“Jason eyes him again, turning to drive as Rafe sits back silently for a moment. “I won’t. I’m here for her, and she wouldn’t, so I won’t,” Jason chuckles. “She’s got you wrapped around her finger already, huh? Yeah, she has that effect.”

Jason smiles, looking forward to driving them to the Heywards Shop to set up a pickup for clothes. Rafe stares out the window, watching the yellow streetlights mix with the blue-green hue of the evening sky and looking out at the hint of the stars he can see shining in the night sky. He thinks of you and how fast his heart beats when you smile and how warm he feels when you are next to him. You make him feel and think so differently in a way that makes him want to explore and experience things as you do; he wants to see things from a positive and enthusiastic perspective.

Against his better judgment, he pulls his phone from his pocket and pulls up the contact he’s already saved for you and the messages you’ve already shared.

Rafe: I'd take any favors you’d give, and also, I’d love for you to tell me where, and I’ll be there; sweet dreams, angel. ❤️

All rights belong to the owners of Netflix and the Outer Banks. I do not own any characters except OC characters. The fiction is simply for fun. All copyrights belong to the original owners.

[wosoimagines]

you’re taking it a bit too personal imo she’s 22 still fairly young and with chelsea she isn’t used to losing or being put into uncomfortable positions, she has to work on her cool and mentality but she’s not as bad as you make her out to be lol

i don't think you're taking it seriously enough. it doesn't matter that she is 22. it doesn't matter that she isn't use to losing. this is the SECOND time we've had an incident with Lauren James putting someone at serious risk outside of play because she's stepped on them in LESS than six months. she obviously didn't learn her lesson after doing this the first time at the World Cup which is the biggest stage that she will ever play on. and that is as bad as i make it out to be.

and i feel like i do need to make it known that it isn't just because this is Lauren James and I just don't like her. this would be my take for anyone. Katie McCabe, who is one of my favorite players, sometimes seriously pisses me off with some of the fouls she makes.

but Lauren James is starting to set a pattern of fouling the opposition outside of play. more so, stepping on people.

not only that, but no one is holding her publicly accountable. Chelsea and the Lionesses have addressed the abuse and the racism that Lauren James has received as they should. but they've yet to address what Lauren James did wrong. this isn't just criticism for Lauren James, but also everyone else who is in her life because someone has to knock some sense in her before she seriously hurts someone and if you refuse to acknowledge that Lauren James could seriously hurt another player and that it is something that needs to be addressed now then you need to seriously reevaluate how you are looking at the situation.

[katiedido2]

Co-pilots

I wrote this while recovering from covid. I'm hoping it makes sense.

It's a bit of light fluff between two brothers for Fishtank Week

Enjoy! 💚💛

-o-o-o-o-

Co-pilots

Gordon tugged at his collar for the fifth time in less than a minute. He paced the small, luxurious villa like a caged animal. Virgil noticed and exchanged looks with his father. 

Jeff nodded and went to the entrance of the villa. “Boys, let’s give Gordon a moment before he has to head down.” 

Scott, John and Alan glanced at Jeff and then Gordon before grabbing their things and heading out the open door.

Before he followed his sons, Jeff looked at Virgil. “Less than ten minutes, Virg.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

Jeff nodded, and the door closed softly behind him, leaving the two brothers alone. 

“Are you okay, Gordon?” Virgil squeezed his shoulder.

“Yeah, Virg. I’m just peachy….” Gordon ducked away from his brother. “Jesus, it’s hot….” He tugged at his tie. “What was I thinking insisting on a tropical wedding?”

Virgil slapped away Gordon’s hands. “Stop fussing. You’ll wrinkle the linen…You wanted a wedding on the water, and Penny thought you should have a say in your wedding?” He shrugged. “There are worse compromises than Fiji in the Spring.”

“Says the man who married in England in the Spring.”

Dark eyebrows rose. “When it was cold and raining…” Virgil sat on the window seat. “What’s going on, Gordon?”

Gordon paced again before stopping in front of his brother. “Would Penny hate me forever if we called this off?”

Virgil sucked in a breath. “Wow. Gordon….”

“I want to marry her!... I do!.. But…I wanted a simple wedding, Virgil. Not-” he waved his hands. “Whatever this is.”

“A twenty-guest destination wedding.”

“Virgil.”

“On a small resort on a tropical island.”

“Tank!”

“That we rented out for you.”

“I meant a courthouse wedding!”

Rolling his eyes, Virgil placed his hands on his brother’s shoulders.

“You and Penny agreed: a small intimate wedding on the water with lots of tropical flowers and a large, splashy reception for all your friends after your honeymoon… I almost wish we had done this. This is way better than an unheated Norman church. Warmer, too.”

“Stop that!”

“Stop what?”

“Trying to make me feel better.”

“I’m your best man, Gordon. It’s my job.”

Gordon sighed and ran his hands through his hair, causing it to stand on end. “Why am I freaking out? Penny is everything I’ve ever dreamed of…and more.”

“Nerves are normal.”

“Ha! You practically ran down the aisle.”

“I was trying to warm up.” Gordon gave him a look. “I was nervous before my wedding.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. And I had Scott as a best man….”

“Oh, man. Smotherhen?”

“Compensation overload.”

“Jeez. But you forgave him for interfering long before your wedding.”

Virgil smiled wryly. “Yeah. Have you met Scott?”

“No wonder you ran down the aisle.”

The brothers laughed. 

“Oh. I needed that.”

Virgil reached up to tame Gordon’s hair. “Hold still…Are you good?”

“No.” He flapped his hands. “Still freaking….Tell me something that sounds fake but is totally true.”

“Scott was born seven months after our parent’s wedding.”

“That’s not what I-” Gordon stared at Virgil a moment before frowning. “Scott was premature?”

Wearing a shit-eating grin, Virgil shook his head. “Nope.”

Gordon’s eyes grew wide. “Holy shit, Virgil! How did you find that out?”

“Grandma told me.”

Gordon’s jaw dropped. “No! You are shitting me.”

Virgil raised his hand. “Scout’s honour. She told me when I told her Becca was the one.”

“Wow…Dad and Mom got premarital busy…I’m a bit gobsmacked.”

“Dad confirmed it.”

“Wow…” A thought occurred to Gordon. “Hold on. We moved up the wedding because Becca’s due in November.”

“Yeah?”

Gordon did some quick math. “You knocked her up a month after you met?”

“Umm….” Virgil turned beet red. He should have anticipated someone - Gordon - would work it out. 

He sighed. 

They were expecting twins and wanted it to be a surprise. To account for Rebecca's size, they had subtracted a month from her actual due date, knowing this would imply she had gotten pregnant earlier than she had. 

Gordon gasped. “Virgil, you stud!” 

He doubled over laughing at the chagrined expression on his brother’s face. 

“Holy shit…and we tease Scott for being the speed demon.” He wiped the tears that were running down his face. “That was ballsy, bro.” This made him laugh even harder. 

“You’re going to tease me about this forever, aren’t you?”

Gordon gasped for air. “For…fucking…ever…Virg.”

Virgil watched him laugh, waiting for him to calm down. He checked his watch and saw he didn’t have that much time.

He sighed. Desperate times….

“I tried to convince her to let me knock her up the first time we had sex.”

Gordon stopped laughing and stared at his brother. 

“I knew that would shut you up,” Virgil said dryly.  

“Tank, you are shitting me.”

“Nope.” 

“What did she say?” 

“She said no.”  

“Wise woman.” 

Virgil nodded. “This conversation stays between us, Fish. Okay?”

“As God as my witness, Virg.”

“Good.”

“The first time?” 

Virgil nodded. “Thankfully, she has more sense than I do.”

“Obviously…You’re…you’re happy, aren’t you?”

Virgil crossed to his brother and placed his hands on his shoulders. “I had no idea it was possible to be this happy.”

“Really?”

“Yep. And once you see Penny walking down the aisle, you’ll feel the same.”

“You think?”

“I know. Hey, would I lie to my second favourite co-pilot?” He straightened Gordon’s tie. “Come on, Fish.” He lightly punched his shoulder and opened the door. “Let’s get you married to your mermaid.”

Virgil walked out into the sun. Gordon began to follow. 

“Okay.” He stopped. “...Second favourite?”

-fin-

[whoiwanttoday]

So pretty much since the Met Gala my brain keeps going, "You need to post Halle Bailey". This is on account of her being quite gorgeous. The problem is I have not seen her in anything and don't really know who she is other than she is the Little Mermaid. Or will be depending on your perspective. Like it's in the can but it hasn't happened for the rest of us. Either way, it can be hard for me to get over the hump of posting someone when I just see them in some pictures on my dash but guys, she has worn some amazing stuff so here she is. Really amazing. Like at one point my brain went, "She's so beautiful, why would anyone be upset she was cast". Which like, very funny brain, you know exactly why people were upset she was cast, racists aren't a new thing, they've been around at least since the middle ages. I know saying that gets people upset who have some purity based reason for why they are upset but I am here to tell you that you don't really, you have racist reasons. I get it, Disney's entire insidious plot is purity. Not in the female innocence sense with princesses and so on, though that's there, but they market in the idea that their product is the pure, platonic ideal of something in order to maintain a stranglehold on the culture. It's why they are making these live action versions of old cartoons. You see, they take something that is part of the public domain, already funny given they fucking hate the idea of anything entering the public domain, and make their version of it and saturate the culture with it. Often the do it well but either way they overload the culture with it so that if anyone else makes a version of this 200 year old story and they make it more accurate to the source materiel, they will immediately be decried by the public at large as a knock off and imitators. Thus Disney will continue to pump out versions of this forever to squash anything but their narrative, to continue to get people to do free work for them defending it as the only actual version of a story that Disney didn't even come up with. So what i am saying is it's racists but also people who don't even realize they are racists because they have bought into the bullshit of the company they are now mad at. They learned it from watching Disney. Which is a shame because obviously I find these live action things a complete waste of time and an entirely cynical way for Disney to maintain its monolithic hold on pop culture but that hardly seems like the actress' fault. Everyone needs a break, everyone needs to work but more importantly at some point it would probably be nice to let a black person do anything and not have it become about their skin no matter what they do. This all got a bit far afield, I think my core point is she's beautiful and if you don't think so I might think you're a bigot? No, I don't think that's a good take either. Let's just go with Disney is bad for us, I am deeply distrustful of Disney Adults, and Halle Bailey is beautiful. Today I want to fuck Halle Bailey.

[yourfellowhuman07]

Where Do We Go Now?

A She-ra: Princess of Power 2018 fanfiction

The war is finally over. Prime is dead, the hive mind is broken, and everyone is reunited with their loved ones. However, there are some questions left unanswered. What will be the fate of Catra and Hordak? What are these new memories Wrong Hordak has? What is Etheria's place in the wider universe? Where do we go now?

___________________

Chapter 11. This is going to be a long one so I suggest grabbing a snack. It's what I get for combining two chapters.

___________________

Chapter 11: Personal Missions

As the day moons rose, so did Perfuma, who breathed in the feeling of a new day. She had a personal mission: talk with Entrapta about her relationship with Hordak. Despite his recent docile nature, she still believes Hordak is evil. No man with a soul could cause that much harm. She was determined to talk Entrapta out of her relationship with Hordak for her own sake. All that man spread was misery and decay, and she would be damned before that happened to Entrapta.

_____________________________________________

Adora woke up bright and early that morning and started her day with a small workout to get her blood pumping, this day especially. She had a personal mission: talk to Hordak about that memory she saw inside his mind. She had wanted to speak to him earlier, but never found the right time; thus, she determined today she would finally get the answers she so desperately craved.

___________________________________________

Hordak woke up with his face feeling damp. Then the events of yesterday’s events and embarrassing display of emotion flooded his mind making him emit a frustrated groan.

Idiot.

Hordak rubbed his head and paused in terror when he felt the feeling of hair on the sides of his head. They were small enough to where only a keen eye could notice them, but it could become a problem in the future. All the more reason he needed to leave this glittery tar pit. The man managed to drag himself out of the fluffy death trap these people called a bed and put his white tabard on. Afterward, he heard a knock on the door.

He quickly got up to open the door, it was She-Ra-no-Adora.

“Good morning Lo- Hordak. How are you?”

“I am decent.” He closed the door behind her.

“Do you have time to talk for a little bit?”

“Seeing as I cannot leave, I have time.”

“He heh, yeah….”

Adora stepped fully into the room and sat on a nearby chair.

“What do you wish to talk to me about?”

“Ok, so you know how I had to enter your mind to kill Horde Prime, right?”

Hordak inhaled sharply.

“Yes, I recall.”

“Ok, so when I went in there, I saw this memory of when I was a baby, and you were holding me out in a field. I was wondering what that was about.”

Hordak inhaled deeply, and sat on a bench, his posture impeccably straight and ridged.

“When I first took power as Lord of the Horde and ruler of the Scorponi kingdom, I took it upon myself to scout out areas that would be useable for army bases. Everything was running smoothly. Then I saw an open portal. Without thinking, I ran towards it, hoping it was a way off of this accursed, backwater planet. Not taking into account that the gateway could lead to an even worse place beyond my imagination. Right as I get close, something came out of the portal, and with a flash, the portal was gone. That someone was you wrapped in traditional Eternian clothes. Now-”

“Wait, you knew I was Eternian? Why did you not tell me?”

“One, yes I knew by what you were wearing and the fact you resembled who I assume is your grandparents, who, before I was banished, were still in power in the Eternia solar system. Secondly, I was going to tell you, but you left the Horde before I could speak to you. Now, as I was saying, when I returned to the Fright Zone, I managed to hide you for a week before Shadow Weaver found you. She then talked me out of keeping you permanently. I theorized she sensed your connection to magic and wanted you for herself. So, I gave you away to her. I would not have been wise to keep you anyway: my sanctum was not safe for children, and there was a chance others would have harmed you because of your association with me. Is there anything else?”

Adora sat, staring at the floor. She felt conflicted. Hordak was once her greatest enemy; on the other hand, he could have been her father. She does not know if he would be a good one, though. It was clear he cared about the ones he loved based on his relationship with Entrapta and Imp, but would he be caring and nurturing like a father should be? Adora then realized how little she knew the man. Maybe she should get to know him better.

“No, nothing else,” She had multiple questions, but she already had so much information to swallow she decided against it. “I guess I owe you one, for telling me.”

Hordak then had a thought.

“How soon can I use that I.O.U., as you Etherians call it?”

“Whenever you want.” Adora shifted her gaze around the room nervously.

“I know it is probably an inappropriate use of your powers, but can your powers be used to grow hair?”

“...yes.” She backed away slightly, confusion painting her face.

“Could you perhaps do that for me, so I can skip the awkward stages of my hair growing out, please?”

“I mean, sure.” Adora stopped asking questions a long time ago. “FOR THE HONOR OF GRAYSKULL!”

In a blinding flash of light, Adora transformed into She-Ra. She-Ra pointed her sword at Hordak, and they both closed their eyes tight as She-Ra began to work her magic. Hordak’s head felt tingly as hair began to spring out from his scalp and past his shoulders. When the feeling stopped,  he gingerly touched his head. To Adora’s surprise, his hair was his signature dark cobalt and was in medium-sized curls. The only exception to this was the tips which were straight and white.

“Thank you, Adora. I greatly appreciate this.”

“Any time,” The light around her dissolved, changing her back to Adora. “I must say curly hair works for you.”

“Thank you.”

“Well, I better get going, breakfast will be soon, and I don’t want to keep everyone waiting. Bye.” She quickly left the room, closing the door behind her.

“Goodbye, Adora.”

______________________________________________________

Entrapta woke up refreshed and energized, it was the first time she had slept in a bed in months, and she already felt much better. As she got ready for the day, she started to think of all the future projects she and Hordak could do. Her first priority was to make Hordak a new suit of armor, not that the previous one was outdated, she just thought it would be fun to mix things up. She was thinking of something more sleek and streamlined, but Hordak will of course have the final decision. She also wanted to somehow be able to harvest tech from Beast Island without actually going to that accursed place.

Just then, Entrapta heard a quick yet firm knock on the door. She bounced over toward the door and opened it revealing Perfuma, who automatically stepped in.

“Good morning, Entrapta. I came by to talk to you.”

“About what?”

“I just wanted to know how you feel after everything that happened. I worry about you, you know. Oh, might I recommend some tea or yoga? Clears the mind and spirit?”

“Oh, no, thank you, but what are you concerned about exactly?”

“I’ll just get this out of the way. Entrapta, I’m concerned about your relationship with Hordak.”

“Why?”

“I’m just concerned about how Hordak may affect you in the long run. Negative energies are contagious and can negatively affect your mental health, Entrapta. With all the awful things Hordak has done and said, it could start to make you change and become a hateful person yourself.”

“Perfuma, I get what you are saying, but Hordak isn’t like that. He loves and cares for me and twice risked his life for me. Sure we bicker with each other, but everyone does. Once you get to know Hordak he is a good person.”

Perfuma sighed, she expected this response and was prepared for it.

“I also get what you are saying, but have you seen how he treats people? Take Catra for example, according to her he was always cold and uncaring with little regard to how others felt.”

“And Catra was the same way. She was terrible to the people around her and even tried to kill me. How can you love one but hate the other.”

“Because, Catra proved herself to be a good person, and I have not seen anything like that from Hordak.”

“Because you have not given him a chance to, plus when you get to know him, he isn’t like that.”

“Yes, he is! Whenever he walks into a room he spreads paranoia and negative energies. How could you stand him when he destroyed so much? Open your eyes Entrapta. He will make you miserable in the long run, so please break up with him!”

“All of your arguments are baseless and biased. How could you hate someone you never even talked to?” At this point, Entrapta’s mask was down and her hair began to wrap an almost protective cocoon around her.

“Ugh, I knew you would bet like this! I’m your friend. I am just trying to help you, Entrapta.”

“No, you’re not helping me! I love Hordak, and he loves me! I don’t care about whatever energies you feel or whatever unscientific nonsense you think. He deserves love as much as anyone else and is the most caring, understanding person I have ever met. You can not change that, so can you please leave.”

In a huff, Perfuma stomped out of Entrapta’s room and into her own.

They deserve each other.

_______________________________________________________

Hordak stared at himself in the mirror. It had been over a lifetime ago since his hair had been this length. He quite liked his hair like this and wished Prime never had him cut it. He was also relieved to not go through the maintenance that his mohawk required. Every month or so, he would have to douse it in various chemicals to keep it flat, and every morning he would slick it back. Even with his efforts, it would always find some way to defy him and fall in his face.

Speaking of maintenance, his eyes spotted the white ends of his hair, so different from the indigo hue of his hair. Despite using them sparingly, he had an understanding of metaphors. He knew by cutting off this chunk of dry, white hair, he would be fully abandoning his fat- Phime. From birth, he has been loyal to him, cared for him, and obeyed nearly all he said. Now he is dead by his hand, so what is the point in holding on? Part of him still craved his love, but he knew that was impossible. What does it even matter? He made his decision to be with Entrapta. A decision he would make over a billion and one times.

Before he could change his mind, he took a pair of scissors he found in a drawer and hacked away at his hair. It was messy and choppy, two words he hated, but it got the job done. He looked at his visage in the mirror. With a loud clatter, the scissors dropped on the floor. His shoulders and face dropped. His mind was blank. He didn’t know what to think.

Then a wide grin spread across his face. It wasn’t out of malice for others or love for his Starlight, but out of joy, bliss, and freedom. It was like a weight he had been carrying for decades lifted off of his shoulders.

After the initial euphoria wore off, he picked the scissors off the ground, trimming and cleaning up the ends of his hair until he was satisfied. He pulled it up into a bun before getting ready for the rest of the day.

______________________________

Hordak walked out of his room, and just as he headed to Entrapta’s door, he heard faint sounds of crying. He lightly knocked on the door, and a small voice allowed him entrance.

Entrapta was sitting on her bed, tangled in a cocoon of her hair, crying silently to herself in the dark of her room. Hordak rushed to her side and immediately asked what was wrong. The only answer he got was tendrils of her hair wrapping around him and pulling him closer. They each wrapped their arms around each other as Hordak began to rock her back and forth. When she calmed down Hordak asked him again what had happened.

“Oh, Perfuma came in here first thing in the morning complaining about how me being in a relationship with you is terrible, and your terrible, and I wish she could just mind her own damn business and leave us alone.”

Hordak then scooted him and Entrapta to lay on the bed, he held her tightly as she cried. He found it best to just let her have it all out and to just be there for her.

He knew this was going to happen. The princess would target and antagonize her for her relationship with him. She doesn’t deserve this. If he knew it wouldn’t crush her, he would end their relationship to keep her from the Alliance’s scrutiny. All he could do was support her and pray they would get away from them.

“You know I love you, right?” The small princess muttered.

Hordak looked down at his beloved and smiled.

“Of course, I do, Starlight, and I love you too.”

_____________________________________________

 The Alliance all sat around the large dining table for breakfast. The Best Friends squad was reviewing the reconstruction plans for Etheria. Micah and Castaspella were discussing Mysticorian affairs, and the rest were all happily exchanging words with each other over bacon and eggs. That was until Hordak walked into the room, and everyone fell silent. He cleared his throat.

“Entrapta has requested that I bring her and my breakfast into her room. She is currently feeling under the weather and does not feel like seeing anyone.”

“Any what gives you special access?” Mermista said with obvious disdain.

Instead of dignifying her question with a response, he grabbed two plates and filled them up with food before quickly walking out, giving Perfuma the sharpest and nastiest of death stares.

“Woah, what did you do?” Catra sat next to Perfuma and grinned at her.

“I only gave Entrapta some friendly advice that would help her grow, she just… didn’t take it very kindly.”

“Listen, when she wants to be Entrapta can be stubborn as a mule, so I’d cut my loss and let her handle her own life. She isn’t as helpless as you think she is.”

“I know, I just do not want Hordak to take advantage of her!”

“HA! Oh please, there is no power that man has over her. Even back in the Fright Zone, he was wrapped around her finger. Trust me, Entrapa will be fine, besides, the last time I got tangled up with those two Hordak almost killed me.” Catra walked away with her cat-like grace and sat over with Adora, leaving Perfuma sitting alone.

Fine, I’ll leave them alone, but mark my words Entrapta will come crying back saying I’m right.

____________________________________________________________

Entrapta and Hordak sat together on the bed. Entrapta was meticulously separating her food into tiny pieces and Hordak sat watching her.

“Starlight, why do you prefer such tiny foods?”

“It’s more efficient and I hate the texture of chewed food. Why aren’t you eating?”

“I am not hungry.”

“Hordak you have not had a good meal for who knows how long, you have to be hungry.”

“I simply do not wish to eat right now.”

“Hordak, are you making me use the princess card right now?”

“Now what jurisdiction do you have to use that card? Last time I checked you are not the ruler of this domain.”

“True, but whose kingdom are you going to live in? Do you want to go live with Perfuma and her weed-smoking drum circle?”

“Touche.”

The two finished their breakfast and discussed future science projects. At least Hordak was, Entrapta was only half listening as she eyed Hordak’s hair. It was odd when she first saw it, but she quickly warmed up to it.

“Can I braid your hair?”

Hordak stopped dead in his tracks, resembling a deer in headlights. 

“You… may.”

The two maneuvered themselves to where Entrapta sat on her hair chair above Hordak as he sat stiffly. Entrapta removed her gloves and began to run her fingers through Hordak’s hair. Hordak’s face flushed slightly as she tried to distract himself from the calming sensation Entrapa created. Entrapta braided his hair in what was called a French braid, tying it off at the end.

“And there you are.” She kissed him on the cheek.

“May I braid your hair now?”

“Yes please!”

Entrapta sat in Hordak’s lap, causing Hordak’s face to flush and ears to pin to his head.

“Wanna watch a movie?”

“That is acceptable.”

As Entrapta picked a film Hordak undid her twin pigtails. Her hair fell like a waterfall, creating a lilac river of silk. He took it in his hand and slowly sectioned it off into two, still grappling with the fact she is allowing him to touch her. On each side of her head he made medium braids that reached to a little below the nape of her neck; afterward, combined the two sections into one and braided it, tying it off at the end. By then Entrapta had picked a movie about a rat that is a chef. Hordak thought it was unsanitary to have pests near food, but the plot was good enough that he could look past it. Entrapta leaned back into Hordak’s chest as the two enjoyed their quiet day together.

______________________________________________________

Bow and Glimmer sat staring at Adora as she recounted what had happened to her that morning. Bow had a million questions. He had always been taught that Hordak was a monster hell-bent on commanding others. Now the past couple of days had started to unravel what seemed like concrete ideas. He then looked around him at all the people in the room. Adora: a promising Force Captain turned symbol of hope for the people she despised for years. Scorpia: former Force Captin turned kind princess. TD: a blank slate programmed to serve his master who became the most revolutionary of the Alliance. Catra: the most hateful, spiteful person he had ever met changed herself to become a part of the best friend's squad. All of these people who were once set in their ways became amazing friends when someone gave them a chance. Entrapta gave Hordak a chance he killed the man who was his entire reason for living, imagine what he could do with even more support. Bow was then suddenly filled with a newfound mission: befriend Hordak, his greatest challenge yet.

[neverlearnedtoread]

A Curse So Dark and Lonely

⭐⭐⭐⭐; it is a truth solely acknowledged by me that the more cringefail a love interest is, the better the romance

Oh?? 👌😉😏

fairytale retelling! i love retellings of well-known stories. something something telling the same stories as our ancestors and our descendants binds humanity together something something

it takes a while to come to light, but the love interest is one of those 'head before heart' idiots. he's genuinely shrewd, politically savvy, and calculating, i.e. exactly the sort of person who doesnt fall in love easily. which makes him being the 'beast' in this beauty and the beast retelling so compelling! he's trying SO hard to engineer feelings and its just not working 😭

following off the above point: the love interest thinks he is inherently unlovable. nothing is juicier than someone who thinks they're too hard to love being proven wrong!

No.. ❌🤢🤮

isekai story, which as a trope teeters on the edge of losing me completely on principle; Kemmerer did manage to add enough details to keep me from totally losing my suspension of belief

just enough 'not like other girls' energy in the main character to make the first 50-100 pages hard to get through. i know its crazy, but consider: sometimes when a girl is kidnapped it's okay for her to have some level of caution / fear??

love triangle attempted(?) - wild choice from the author to make the guardsman hotter than the prince. i mean i get it, but if you're going to do that, can we not have the reason she doesn't choose him be so obviously and singularly because it wouldn't break the curse?

Summary: Harper, an 18-year-old girl with cerebral palsy, has a lot of problems - her mum has cancer, her father's a deadbeat who left them indebted to loan sharks, and her brother Jake is now working for said loan sharks to pay off those debts. Harper's always felt like a liability - too weak to help, let alone protect anyone - but when she sees a dodgy guy knock a girl unconscious in an alleyway, she has to try. Of course, no good deed goes unpunished - in the tussle, Harper finds herself magically transported to a parallel world with a whole new set of problems, including a cursed prince, an evil enchantress, and no way home.

Concept: 💭💭💭 Honestly, I didn't think too highly of this one! I had heard various criticisms about the prince being too broody and the sense of 'not like other girls' throwing others off, and it was selling itself as an unapologetic YA Beauty and the Beast retelling, so I wasn't thinking that this book would do anything crazy for me because Beauty and the Beast as a fairytale isn't my favourite.

Some spoilers under the cut!

Execution: 💥💥💥 On the whole, this book met my expectations exactly where I held them, which was a typical YA fantasy romance. I hold nothing against books that give me exactly what I expected - if I didn't think a book would suit my reading tastes, I wouldn't pick it up in the first place! I did have a hard time at the start - I'm pretty sensitive to 'not like other girls' vibes, so harper really grated on me, but once she and rhen understood each other better I was having a lot more fun. I kept pinballing between enjoying it (rhen being bad at romance) and rolling my eyes at it (harper being too Strong Women Feminist) through the middle but by the time we hit the 'i have to go home to see my family before its too late' story beat, the book was clawing its way to a solid 4 stars.

Personal Enjoyment: ❤❤❤❤ Despite being a predictable YA fantasy romance, Prince Rhen was a pleasant surprise. It is my personal (and therefore, correct) taste that male love interests are best when they are, at heart, cringefail. Rhen fits this criteria perfectly - he can wine and dine and politick with the best of them, but what he wants to do is save his people, and for that he needs someone to fall in love with him for realsies. He is wholly unable to accomplish both (on account of him being very shit at love) until Harper jostles him forcibly out of his holding pattern - he tells her he's doomed to fail, and she still convinces him to wholeheartedly try. It makes Harper not only the heroine of the story, but specifically Rhen's saviour - that's true romance, babey!! Their chemistry was the cornerstone of me rating the book 4 stars - with special shoutout to Lilith being shamelessly used as a plot device to make the romance go. We love an evil enchantress who is petty and bitchy.

Favourite Moment: The sweetest moment of the book was definitely Harper inviting Rhen into her room after learning Lilith tortures him every night. It was such a genuinely heartfelt moment that brought them together! But I love mess, so my actual favourite moment is when they kiss right before Harper leaves for DC, only for Harper to recoil from the sharp scales growing over Rhen's skin. The horror!! The drama!! The 'if you haven't fallen in love with me at this point, you certainly won't now'!!! and then Harper just going home without any resolution at all. NO ONE ELSE was having fun in that scene but me! and THAT'S BEAUTIFUL 😝

Favourite Character: Prince Vincent Aldrhen of Emberfall, cringefail king. Yes I understand he's horrible for any number of reasons, and no, I will not be retracting my statement. There's nothing more fun to me than a character who is convinced they are unlovable and has the evidence (and track record!!!) to prove it. This dude was like 'kissing this girl i like is more emotionally devastating than being magically tortured by a crazy evil enchantress every night because I will only be able to do it the once'. I can't NOT root for him to be dicked down!!

[ray935sworld]

VR's academy of supernatural riders (Part 10: Always one of you)

TW: Again mention/ description of blood and injury

I'm sorry, I hope you like angst

Luca looked at the body in front of him. It was quite. He swallowed. Not it. He. Marc didn’t move. It was so unlike him. The Italian had been staring at him since the others had left. He had talked to him, asking him to give him a sign what he should do and how he could help him. He didn’t get a response. Neither verbal nor non-verbal. So he decided to take the deafening silence as a response. He stood up and took his wrist. He carefully freed his skin from the bandages. The skin was mostly unhurt. Yet. Just some bruises from the fall.

“I am sorry, Marc” he whispered and did what he feared to do. He tore the skin open. He destroyed the first layer and felt blood run out the wound as the tissue gave in. It happened so quickly. The white string turned red before opening completely and letting the blood run free. “I am so sorry, please believe me” he begged while holding his hand. But if he was so sorry, why continue? The drops of the red liquor ran towards him, like they knew he caused them. They quickly froze on his skin, painting his fingers red as a reminder of what he just did. “I don’t want you to suffer. I’ll make this quick and as painless as-“

A door interrupted him. He heard the lock being pulled and the wood almost hitting the wall behind it as someone stormed in. Hurried footstep entered. Someone rushed inside and Luca felt panic rise in his chest as he realized who it was. He looked down, knowing he’d be unable to cover the scene. His mind was in overdrive but he was unable to find a solution.

“Sorry, Luca, I just needed to-“ The words hurt Luca. Alex apologized while he stood there with his brother’s blood on his hand.

He looked at him, waiting for the inevitable fall out. He was waiting to be yelled at or kicked or punched and called every slur in the book. But Alex just stood there. Frozen. He didn’t move as he looked at Marc – Marc’s wrist to be preciously. His big brown eyes seemed bigger and deeper than usual. They portrayed hurt and confusion. He looked like a child that had just been told that Santa isn’t real.

“Lu-Luca… What – What have you –…”

“I’m sorry, I – “ He was scratching his brain for answers. He needed an explanation. Something. Anything. He wanted to find a suitable excuse while Alex tried to find an explanation. The unfolded scene didn’t make sense with what was written in his brain.

He looked up and met Luca’s eyes. Luca. He trusted Luca. Luca would never hurt any of them. No. He wouldn’t. He was the good brother. He was nice, caring and kind. But he did hurt them. He wasn’t naïve enough to believe his memories more than the clear evidence in front of him. Luca had hurt Marc. He looked up, trying to understand.

They just looked at each other for what felt like a minute and an hour at the same time. In reality, 6 seconds had passed. Luca would consider them the longest 6 seconds of his life. He didn’t know what would happen and how to act. Alex didn’t even think. He couldn’t.

Luca lifted his hand, trying to calm his boyfriend. It was the only thing that came to his mind but he didn’t take in account that his hand was still covered in blood. By then it had already dried. Just a single drop ran down his finger, crossing his wrist before hitting the ground. It was everything Alex needed to be knocked out his frozen state.

“Get the fuck away from him, you asshole!” he silently cursed. The panic about the situation forced him focus. He couldn’t just scream and yell yet. Not when Marc needed his help. So he focused all his energy on rushing to his brother’s side. Luca already moved to the side, his mouth slightly open as if he was about to say something. But the words never left his mouth.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Alex muttered, not sure how else to phrase his distress as his hands tried to stop the blood from escaping. He put his hand above the wound and just pressed down. He prayed Marc was deep enough in his coma not to feel the pain he was now causing him. The warm liquor felt like poison on his skin and he was close to fainting when he looked down to see the tissue torn apart. It looked disgusting. He couldn’t really see anything beside he weird looking texture. But knowing what it was especially while being hyper aware whose wrist it was, made him cringe. The blood covered everything by now.

“Alex, I-“ “Shut your mouth, Italian prick!” he cursed. His voice got stronger as his mind caught up with the situation. His free hand grabbed the call button. He didn’t had time for this – for him. He pressed down, watching the light illuminate, just to do it again. And again. And again. He needed the nurses to understand this was an emergency and that help was needed as soon as possible.

It took just a few seconds until the professionals rushed in. There was some more screaming and cursing. Everything happened fast from then on. Alex didn’t noticed at first how Luca used the opportunity to leave. It was only when a kind looking nurse asked him to remove his hand. He said they would handle it. He was supposed to leave. He was asked to leave Marc alone now. He didn’t want that. So he looked him in the eyes, thinking about his options for a brief second. If he couldn’t trust Luca, could he trust him? Or the rest of the staff? Could he trust anyone anymore? He pleaded with himself for a moment, too scared to make the wrong choice again with Marc suffering the consequences. But this time he didn’t had much of a choice. He wasn’t of any help and would just end up in the way. So he left.

As he left the room, he noticed the younger rider waiting in front of the door. His eyes were now fixed on him and Alex was too shocked or too angry to avoid his eyes. It felt like giving in and he didn’t want to. The two looked at each other, neither saying a word. He passed him, heading to the corner of the floor to avoid getting in anyone’s way. He didn’t say a word. He refused to acknowledge the younger rider. He didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. He didn’t want him to think that he cared about him. He didn’t and he didn’t want to hide that.

He leaned against the wall, trying to clear his head. His mind automatically ran back to the things he saw. It was all to raw and fresh to forget just yet. He remembered entering the room. Something sharp. Blood. Marc’s blood. Luca did it. Blood on his hands. The open wound looking back at him.

He closed his eyes hoping to make the memories go away. They didn’t. They were just stronger now that he could almost see the scene in front of him again. He knew he should tell someone what he saw, probably the police or the hospital staff. But a part of him didn’t want to. He knew he was being unreasonable and idiotic. Nonetheless, telling someone felt like taking a part of his memory and making it real. Now he could still deny it. Come up with some kind of stupid excuse and believe in it. But the moment the words left his head… There was no going back. He would make it real. He opened his eyes and they involuntarily fixed on the movement next to him.

Luca had buried his hands in the pocket of his jacket. He hid the blood stained skin while his fingers were fidgeting with the silk. He felt his skin burn from embarrassment. His whole body felt like it got set on fire. He knew he had to do something. “Alex, I need you to-“

“Oh, go fuck yourself”

The answer was fast and without any question open. His voice was steer and honest. Alex looked at him like he was a parasite. His jaw was clenched and his face was scrunched up in angry lines. He looked at him with pure hatred. There was nothing left in his eyes that Luca could identify. Alex didn’t normally look at him like that. There was no love, no comfortable reflection in his dark eyes. They had lost the warm looked reserved for the Italian. Now they seemed dark and cold.

“Please-“ “I don’t want to hear your stupid excuses, Marini.” His voice was weak, He sounded exhausted. But he nonetheless spat his last name like it was poison. He hadn’t called him Marini in years – at least not in private. Did he ever? Had they ever seen each other as nothing more than they last names? It made his heartbeat faster, He felt how his muscles felt heavier than usually. He didn’t had the time to process it. Instead, Alex continued, this time with more anger in his voice. As he spoke, his emotions boiled up and his energy returned to him. “Or do you-you out of all the people, actually think, there is one – just one fucked up reason in t-the- the world- or no! Let’s say in the universe! – that would justify that you try to kill my brother? MY big brother?!” he empathized. His words came faster than he was thinking. He stared at Luca. His eyes wide, like he just saw a ghost. But it wasn’t from being shocked. He was angry and he wanted to prove it by making him think of his own older brother. “How would you feel if it was Vale?”

Luca didn’t react. He looked at him like a deer caught in the headlight. He knew the older wasn’t finished. He was too full of emotions to stop just yet. His face darked even more with every second of silence. He could feel that he wouldn’t get an answer and it wasn’t exactly calming him. “ANSWER ME!”

“I know you can’t understand what I did and I’m sorry. It’s for the-“ “If you now say it’s for the better, I will smash your fucking head against the wall until you stop moving”

Luca shut his mouth because that was exactly what he was about to say. He looked back over his shoulder for a second. A stone wall. With enough force you could easily break someone’s skull on it. Alex had said strength. Maybe it’d be for the better…

“It is always one of you” Alex huffed and Luca’s attention shifted back on him. He swallowed, trying to ignore the way the heavy feeling had shifted towards his joints now. They felt heavy and he knew soon they would feel like they were burning. “Tell me…” He looked like a predator. His gaze dark and focused. “Luca Marini…” Ready to kill. “Why did your family set themselves the goal to hurt my family? Your brother seems to be on a mission to make Marc’s life a living hell and destroy everything that brings him happiness. And you – The funny thing is, that I actually believed you whenever you said you loved me and respected my family and when you told Marc you would always protect him-“ His voice was filled with sarcasm as he recalled the Italian’s previous statements.

“I do love you and-“ “Then why the hell did you put me in this position?” “We have-“

When he saw his face change, Luca knew he had inevitably fucked up. He had fucked up big times. It took Alex 3 seconds to cross the short distance between them and press him against the wall. Luca felt his muscles twitch. His body cornered him against and his hand held him in place. His hands were buried in his light blue shirt. An AM73 was engraved in the silk. His grip was strong. There was no way he could get out of this.

“What the fuck do you mean ‘we’? Who the hell was involved?” he spit. “Alex you need to calm down-” he tried to plead, unsuccessful. Instead he felt the burning in his joints that he had already expected. “So it was your fucking brother?! Of course it was! How could I have been this blind? Who else would benefit from this? If he died in motorcross-“ he shook his head in disbelieve. “That would feed in your fucking delusions like dying rats, wouldn’t it? If the Italian definition of unsafe riding left his life in a racing incident-“ “No, please-“ he tried to move away. He had to get away. This situation wasn’t safe anymore. He had to get away.

“Please?! Please like Marc would have begged you to stop if he would have even be able to scream? But he couldn’t even scream, you fucking monster!” Luca stopped in his movements. He felt tears in his eyes as the word hallowed in his head. Monster. Alex saw him as a monster. But he had no right to be offended at the insult.

“You are a disgusting monster and I can’t believe I was stupid enough to love you.” He tried not to let it get in his head. He tried to rationalize and ignore it. He tried so hard and failed miserable. He knew by the way the muscles started twitching under his skin that it was over. He had lost. So he used the last seconds to just look at Alex.

He tried to burn the memory of him in his mind. He tried to burn his face in his mind and the way his eyes looked. He hoped to remember the way he smiled and how the lines around his eyes scrunch whenever he grinned. He wanted to be able to recall the way his lips tasted and his laugh sounded for the rest of his life. He wanted to remember the real Alex, not the hate filled version he was forced to know now. He wanted to remember his Alex to make him his last conscious thought.

“I hope I never see you again.” Alex could not focus anymore. His anger and sadness came in waves and now the imagine of Marc mixed with the kind and gentle way Luca still looked at him. He cursed him. He didn’t want to see gentleness. He wanted to burn the memories in his mind how the face of his – former? – lover looked and how his eyes made the sky look weak. He hoped to forget the way he smiled and how the lines on his forehead eased once they were together. He didn’t want to be able to recall the way his hair fell in his face when he was sleeping and how he complained about the academy just to end his rant with ‘Fuck, I love those idiots anyway’. He didn’t want to remember the gentle, kind and caring version of himself that he had apparently only faked. “Just - Get fucking lost or I swear –“ His voice broke. “Just fucking go!”

He let go of him and turned around. He felt tears well up. He knew he would cry. Too much happened at once for him not to cry. He heard footsteps crossing the hall. They went away. He knew it was Luca. So Luca was now gone. After a few more seconds and the sound fading to a background noise to being far enough to not being heard at all, he knew he was alone. This time he was completely and utterly alone. There was no hope in his heart and no one by his side that could help him. He stepped back, leaning against the wall. It felt colder than before. He slowly lowered himself. His legs gave in. He wasn’t able to hold himself up anymore.

He sat on the ground, his legs clutched against his body, his head resting on his knees. He couldn’t breathe.

[uramichislefttiddie]

Life Lessons With Uramichi Oniisan Alphabet

||Contains: Uramichi Omota + Iketeru Daga||

||Warnings: NSFW||

Reminder! Please don’t comment anything that implies your age, I cannot stop who reads this unfortunately but I can at the very least give out a warning that this contains nsfw content.⚠️

please forgive me I could not stop laughing whilst writing this, I had to skip specific words because it did not sound right to me and my childish behaviour😭

Uramichi Omota:

A: Aftercare (how they treat you afterwards)

If anything all this man will want to do is try and get a good nights rest even if it means only a couple hours of sleep. He will make sure however you are cleaned up and are alright before he deals with himself. He’d never leave you to care for yourself, he always makes sure he cares for you first. He’s very touch starved meaning he makes sure he gets cuddles and kisses before you both drift off into a slumber!

B: Body (his fav part of his body and yours)

His favourite body part on himself most likely would be his muscles specifically his toned arms, I mean he’s a former gymnast so what can you expect? On you his favourite part would be either ass or thighs, the reason mainly being it’s something he can rest on, or another reason being he loves to mark your thighs up not caring if anyone can see, also he just genuinely likes groping your ass however he’ll only do that in privacy, he’d rather not have the risk of someone having just witnessed him groping your ass in public. In make out sessions always expect his hands to be roaming either along your thighs or ass there’s no other option it could be.

C: Cum (well I’m pretty sure you can gather what I mean)

Majority of the time he will make sure to not cum inside you meaning hell either do it over your face or body, however once in awhile if you allow him he will not pass up the opportunity to cum inside you. When I say once in awhile, Uramichi will try and make it near enough every time that you allow him to cum inside, he just loves the idea of having the risk you could end up with having his children. (Russian roulette type beat/j) and a plus to him is that if he can cum in you it means less cleaning to do.

D: Dirty Secret (a secret of theirs that they haven’t told)

Now I get a strong sense that this man really wants to try bondage with ropes especially, wether it be you that’s tied up or him he doesn’t care either way he really wants to try it. But he doesn’t want to scare you off by asking so he still hasn’t mentioned it and he doesn’t want you to start making fun off him about it💀 however you’ve had an inkling for awhile that he’s got something about being tied up.

E: Experiance (Do they know what they’re doing?)

Now he may be 31 years of age but this man has never gone past kissing someone before he met you. You were his first and oh boy he had no clue what he was doing, mainly because he was nervous and couldn’t comprehend what was truly happening. He has watched his fair share of porn etc but when it came down to actually doing it himself he mind had become fog. Overtime though he’s come to learn what you like best and least and has took that into account and now it’s as if he’s been doing it for years.

F: Favourite Position (which he prefers to do)

Now he’ll most likely switch between a mating press or doggy style. The reasoning for mating press is it allows him to be more face to face to you and he can see your face during it which turns him on even more. And let’s be real he more than likely has a breeding kink. So mating press + breeding kink = heaven to him. Now the reason for doggy style is because he loves having your bare ass slam against him and watching it jiggle when he slaps it. He also loves leaving marks on your hips meaning doggy style makes that all the easier.

G: Goofy (do they laugh or are they the serious type)

Uramichi is probably the type of be serious, he might laugh there and than every so often if something a bit funny happens but overall he’s pretty much serious and that’s just him.

H: Hairy (shave? Unshaven?)

Unshaven, however he will trim it if you ask him to, but seeing as he’s 31 I think he couldn’t care less about body hair as it’s normal and he just sees it as a waste of time to have to repeatedly shave.

I: Intamicy (how they’re like in bed)

80% of the time he will be rough, releasing out all the pent up anger and frustration, but he still makes sure your ok. Although there will be them days where he just wants to be more romantic than rough and his whole demeanour will have flipped upside down and he’ll be acting all lovey dovey. Plus most definitely a switch.

J: Jack Off (Do they? Or not?)

Nah, not really, if he’s in that type of mood and your not with him he’ll either wait or come meet you wherever you are so he can get relief.

K: Kink (What kinks they have)

Gagging, Breeding, Bondage, Dacryphilia, cockwarming

L: Length (how big they are)

He’s more girthy than long, he’s probably about 6 inches which is a good length all in all.

M: Motivation (what gets them going)

When you start whining at him for attention or if you raise your voice at him because oh boy that really does set off something in him when you raise your voice.

N: No (something they will not do)

Knife play or anything that could seriously harm you even by accidental.

O: Oral (which they prefer)

He prefers giving than receiving but once in awhile he’d just want you to be the one giving it to him and making him fall under your touch.

P: Pace (how fast they go)

He’s not necessarily fast but rather hard. By that I mean he will go full force into you where both yours skins slap against each other and where he will grunt a lot which oh boy is hot.

Q: Quicke (do they do them?)

Surprisingly he does them a lot seeing as he has work 6 days a week which really only leaves him with one day where it can just be you and him all day. So either he’ll do one in the morning or at night but it depends if he’s feeling too tired after work.

R: Risk (are they one for taking a risk?)

Now he’ll hate someone interrupting so he always makes sure you both do it where the chances of getting interrupted are reduced drastically, plus it’d be very embarrassing for someone to walk in. Usahara now always make sure to knock before making his grand entrance into his apartment. The risk of you getting pregnant kinda excites him in a way so you gotta watch out with this man.

S: Stamina (how many rounds can they go for)

On an average he can last around 2-3 rounds but on a very good day it feels like it’s never ending, he just needs that motivation if you get me.

T: Toys (do they use them)

No. He’s never really been into them and they’ve never sparked his interest.

U: Unfair (are they fair)

He’s quite fair to be honest, he makes sure you both equally get what you both want but there can be times he can be a tease when he’s in one of them type of moods.

V: Volume (how loud they are)

Majority of the time he lets out grunts rather than moans, he gets embarrassed if he moans however after the time you told him you like it when does he doesn’t hold back anymore but like I said most of the time he grunts and breathes heavily.

X: X-ray (what they’re like under there)

Like I said, more girthy than long.

Y: Yearning (how high is their sex drive)

It’s shockingly quite high, although it may not show when he’s near you expect him to be quite touchy most of the time waiting for you to get the signal. In simple terms he’s quite the horn dog.

Z: Zzz (how fast they go to sleep afterwards)

I’ll say it straight. He goes to sleep incredibly fast, but he won’t before he makes sure your cleaned up and settled down!

Iketeru Daga

A: Aftercare (how they treat you afterwards)

This boy will give you the best aftercare ever. You hungry? Ok he’ll go make something for you. You want to go for a drive? Ok he’ll take you for a drive. You want a shower/bath? Ok he’ll go prepare you one. You understand me now. He will double check your ok and cleaned up as best as possible. Will always make sure you’ve gone to the toilet afterwards and have had some water. Will fall asleep with you in his arms always whilst reading to you.

B: Body (his fav part of his body and yours)

His favourite part of his body will be his hands, not only because they’re pleasing to the eye but because he knows his long fingers can make you come undone very quickly and easily and that gives him somewhat of a boost. His favourite part of your body to him will be your lips, he loves the feeling of them when he kisses you or when your kissing him anywhere (😏 /j)

C: Cum (well I’m pretty sure you can gather what I mean)

He loves seeing his cum dripping down your face, the way it leaves a shine along your face just looks so pretty to him. So he prefers to cum over your face or in your mouth to where he can see it dripping down yourself. Don’t get me wrong he’d love to cum in you but he’s responsible and would rather wait until you both want a child so he doesn’t need to worry about getting you pregnant.

D: Dirty Secret (a secret of theirs that they haven’t told)

He likes to be choked. Awhile back you had no clue until you accidentally did and that’s when the game got even more interesting. He really just overall loves seeing you in charge.

E: Experiance (Do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s had a few girlfriends in the past but never gone as far as to do more than make out with them, he’s always said he’d save it for the when the right person comes along and he knows it the right person. But he very much does know what he’s doing, he knows how to make you feel good, he’s done plenty of research.

F: Favourite Position (which he prefers to do)

Reverse cowgirl. He absolutely loves you riding him and if it means reverse cowgirl it allows him to smack your ass and fondle it, also allows him to easily guide you with your hips. Damn he goes berserk when your in this position I tell you.

G: Goofy (do they laugh or are they the serious type)

Do I even need to say? Of course he’s going to be goofy, the man laughs at dick jokes. However once he starts laughing that’s it, he won’t be able to stop for awhile, it’s honestly become uncontrollable.

H: Hairy (shave? Unshaven?)

Honestly, he leaves it down to you and what you prefer, he doesn’t mind if you prefer shaven or not either way he’ll go with what you like.

I: Intamicy (how they’re like in bed)

Probably the slow but long stroke type of guy. He loves the way you start to become impatient and fidgety. He loves the look in your eyes when he’s facing you.

J: Jack Off (Do they? Or not?)

He only will if he hasn’t seen you for a few days or hasn’t been able to do anything with you. He prefers doing it with you actually.

K: Kink (What kinks they have)

Choking, Food Play, Cockwarming, Spit, Praise

L: Length (how big they are)

Longer than girthy, he reaches about 7.5 inches, he can definitely reach the high spots.

M: Motivation (what gets them going)

When you start to praise him, especially with “good boy” that will get him going almost immediately, it just switches something on in his mind so very quickly.

N: No (something they will not do)

He’s willing to try most things as long as you feel safe and he feels safe and you both know to be careful and know how far to go with everything.

O: Oral (which they prefer)

He prefers receiving than giving, he just loves being able to watch you go down on him and struggle. But when you want some he will be more than happy to give.

P: Pace (how fast they go)

Life I previously said, he’s the type of guy that goes slow but he makes sure he’s hitting all the right spots that you like and that gets you going.

Q: Quicke (do they do them?)

He prefers to not have them but if it comes down to it and you really want one he will do so, but don’t expect it to become a regular thing.

R: Risk (are they one for taking a risk?)

Oh he’s scarred many peoples eyes and mind because he simply “forgot” to lock the door and close the curtains/blinds. Poor Uramichi as if he hadn’t enough going on. He doesn’t really want to risk getting you pregnant though, so he will use a condom.

S: Stamina (how many rounds can they go for)

He can go for a straight 3 or more rounds, it normally stops when it’s you that can’t take anymore not the other way round, he always waits until you’ve had your pleasure before he’ll stop.

T: Toys (do they use them)

Now he’d never admit it, but before you two started being sexual he had quite the few toys. He most likely had a flashlight, tenga egg and a cock ring for example. Them type of ones.

U: Unfair (are they fair)

He’s the fairest of them all, he’d make sure your getting what you need and than sort himself out, he’s never once been unfair to you.

V: Volume (how loud they are)

Now…this mans a full on moaner and he has no shame about it. He honestly has that type of pretty moan too, where he whimpers at the same time and he will not look away either. Oh and if your the one sucking him off, be prepared because he can’t hold back at all, it’s honestly like heaven to him.

X: X-ray (what they’re like under there)

As already said he’s quite long compared to others, he reaches about 7.5 inches.

Y: Yearning (how high is their sex drive)

Probably around average but if you get him going well-

Z: Zzz (how fast they go to sleep afterwards)

Will not go to sleep no matter what before you, it always has to be you that falls asleep first before he can fall into a slumber. He always wants to know your safe. And plus if you’ve fallen asleep he will clean you up if you haven’t already, and will leave some water and paracetamol next to you for when you wake up and if he leaves before you in the morning or wakes up before you he’ll always leave a little note next to you too.

[cadencejames87]

Forever Mine: Part 4

Series Masterlist // Previous chapter

Chapter Summary: Steve finds inspiration to find you on his own. Bucky reminisces a past you feel no connection with and strips his office bare.

Word Count: 2.8k

WARNINGS: Slight SOMNO, not really, Bucky has some dirty thoughts of cunnilingus while you sleep, *Warnings updated with each chapter*

*Not beta'd thus any and all mistakes are my own*

*Dividers above by @maysdigitalarts ​*

*Dividers in story by @whimsicalrogers *

The little ones sleep sideways in their shared bed as Steve digs through a suitcase on his bed, nearest the door. The baby lies swaddled in his bassinet on one side; the luggage sits open on the other.

Steve pulls out a laptop and catches a glimpse of something in the top mesh of the bag. He tosses the laptop onto the bed and fishes out a gift wrapped in star-covered navy paper and a thin silver ribbon. He spots a card in a matching navy envelope and sets the present aside as he sinks onto the bed to read it.

“Steve, you are my best friend. My rock. My safe place. I am grateful to call you my husband and partner through all things in this life. You are a warm and caring father to our beautiful children. A dependant and loving spouse that I am proud of each and every day for your heart, mind, and soul. Thank you for always coming back to us. Thank you for setting an example for our children of what a great man should be. Thank you for making me yours."

Steve hangs his head in remorse. He looks back at his five sleeping babies and trades the card for the gift, unwrapping a bottle of Chivas Regal Whiskey, his favourite. You always did things like this, surprising him with gifts to show your appreciation and love.

He removes the bottle and its complimentary glass from the box, scoops up the laptop, and moves to the table by the patio. Before he sits down to get to work, he pours himself a drink, shoots it back in one quick gulp and refills the glass. Using the whiskey as fuel, Steve opens your social media accounts, blog, email, and writing apps, searching for anything that might lead to Bentley London.

Bucky lays awake, eyes on the ceiling as if he could see your sleeping form in the bed above him. Before he realizes what he is doing, he climbs the stairs and pushes the bedroom door open, just enough to observe you toss and turn from your dreams. Moonlight streams in, caressing your exposed thigh as the curtain billows with the wind. His breath grows heavy with the image of you moaning his name as he kisses his way up your delicate, glowing thigh and finds his home between your legs.

You roll over, facing the door. Suddenly you spring up, eyes wide, and searching the darkness. Was it his presence you sensed? The nightmares haunting your unconsciousness? As your eyes adjust, you see you are alone, though the door is slightly ajar. Your breath returns to normal, your heart rate calming. You wished you had someone to hold you, while simultaneously needing to be alone. You lay back cautiously, eyes on the door, your mind at war with itself and still at a loss. After everything that has happened today, you are exhausted, eyes heavy. You fight to stay awake, even so, sleep quickly consumes you, losing you the battle of consciousness.

Steve rubs his tired eyes, striving to focus on the screen. Though daylight soon creeps in, he surrenders to his fatigue, closing the laptop with a yawn; his search results are fruitless. Steve stretches his limbs and drags himself to bed, glass in hand, shooting back the last of his whiskey on the way. He sets the glass on the nightstand and falls onto the bed.

Barely a second passes when the baby stirs. Steve rolls over with a groan, though he stays put, eyes closed. When a knock on the door wakes the baby further, Steve curses the person on the other side at this early hour. He hauls his tired body from the bed, scoops up a fussing Jonah and soothes him as he crosses to the mini-fridge.

Another knock.

Steve quickly pulls out a bottle and sets it into the warmer before answering the door.  A hotel attendant stands with an apologetic and quivering smile. "This just recently arrived and was marked urgent, sir." He hands Steve a tri-folded letter on card stock and hurries away.

"What is this, huh, buddy?" Steve looks over the letter as he sits down to feed Jonah. "Steve Rogers, Urgent!" written in thick black marker and underlined twice. He opens it and notes a small pin attached to the message, "It's time to let her go." Steve examines the badge closely, a souvenir pin for Trafalgar Square, London.

Bucky slips into the bedroom and opens the curtains. He looks out over your backyard.

A cobblestone path stretches from the back porch and wraps around a stone brick firepit with a built-in seating area, though there are still a pair of wooden chairs in front and set on either side of a matching dark oak side table. The well-maintained yard expands for acres and beyond that forest as far as the eye can see.

Bucky turns, smiling at your peaceful sleeping form, he steps away from the window, and the sun shines through, waking you from your slumber. "Morning, beautiful. How did you sleep?"

His charming smile fills you with butterflies. "Fine, all things considered." You whisper through a yawn, sitting up with a slight wince.

He cringes as though it were his own pain. "Can I get you anything, your pills?"

You shake your head, opting to tough out the minute ache and tightness caused by your injuries after the medication made you drowsy. "I’m a little hungry." Seemingly on cue, your stomach growls noisily.

Bucky lets out a small laugh, instantaneously biting his lip to silence himself when you hide your face. He clears his throat, "good, ‘cause I made breakfast." He moves to the door, walking proudly and waits for you.

Your movements are clumsy as you climb out of bed. Maybe you should have taken the pills. You shrug it off and continue to follow Bucky from the room and down to the kitchen.

---

Descending the stairs, close behind Bucky, your eyes wander to the everglade glass-walled office. You fail to notice Bucky pause at the bottom step and run directly into his broad back. You shy away when he glances back over his shoulder, though his tender and affectionate smile opens you up, smiling softly in return.

You take the lead from Bucky and step off the stairs, rounding the corner into the kitchen. An assortment of breakfast foods fills the table, holding your attention from touring the rest of the room. "You planning on feeding an army?"

"I may have overdone it a little," he admits. "I didn't know what you might be in the mood for this morning."

"I’m surprised you didn’t get any roses for the table." You comment, thinking of how roses have long since been labelled as the romantic flower and go-to option for all things expressing love. Though to you, it is more romantic when your partner learns what your favourite flowers are and surprises you with those instead. Of course, roses of all colours are still beautiful and extra meaningful when you receive them here and there. However, returning home from a hospital or years of being missing calls for your favourites and a little sarcastic testing on your part.

Bucky scoffs, raising an eyebrow. "You hate roses. But great minds." He gestures to a beautiful arrangement on the counter. "I got your favourite. Which, unfortunately, could not fit on the table." Bucky beams with happy satisfaction. He looks from the flower arrangement to you and back as he moves to the counter and plucks a single blossom.

You watch him, awestruck he remembered, and then it hits you; you remembered. It's funny how trivial things like your take on flowers seem so familiar, yet not him, not James. He seems to waver, second-guessing everything he has done for you this morning. "I don’t mean to overwhelm you. It’s just been so long." Screw it, he thinks to himself. He caresses your bruised cheek. His thumb gently strokes the cut on your lip, as he wished to himself, he could stroke away all of your injuries.

You freeze in his touch, eyes focused on the ball chain around his neck. The way that it disappears beneath his shirt is somewhat calming, could it be something you remember seeing often?

Bucky's hand drops, and his other offers the flower with a slight pout. You reluctantly take it, and he pulls out your chair with a triumphant smile. "Come, sit. I made mini pancakes. I know you love those. At least, I hope you still do." He pours you a cup of your favourite morning brew as you sit. "Um..."

"Don’t worry, it’s French vanilla. Haven’t forgotten how much you dislike the taste of coffee beans." He remarks, setting the pot aside and sitting down next to you.

"What about the quiche?"

He picks up on your disgust immediately. "I feel like you are trying to catch me at something." Bucky quickly serves himself a couple of the mini quiches. "The quiche is for me. I love it. My mother used to make it all the time growing up." You keep a watchful eye on him, which he notices. "Aside from feeling anxious and suspicious? How are you?

"It’s just..." You take a deep breath, picking out a fruit skewer and a toothpick of mini pancakes. "It's a scary feeling, waking up in an unfamiliar place with a stranger."

"You know me." You look into his desperate eyes. "I'm your husband. Why would anyone lie about that?" You shrug, eyes falling to your plate. "We were high school sweethearts, you and I. You, of course, hated me at first, thought I was too cocky."

You push your food around on your plate with a fork. "No, I-I remember high school, or... At least, I think I do." You fight to hold onto whatever it is you remember, eyebrows furrowing with grief. "I remember getting kicked out of high school and pursuing writing and..." You trail off, only to continue softer, to yourself. "I did have a boyfriend, I think. I can't..." Was it him? "Why can't I picture him?" You rub your head in frustration. You look up into his eyes. "I am sitting right in front of you." You take his hand in yours. "Don’t you think I should be able to see you in these memories if it were you?"

Bucky SLAMS his fist down on the table and tears his vibranium prosthetic from your grasp. "It was me!" He tosses his napkin on the table and stands to pace. He turns back calmer. "I'm sorry, it's not your fault. I get the frustration. It's hard for me too. I lost you once, and I can’t do it again. I won’t--" Bucky grips the back of his chair. "I won't survive." He gnaws on his bottom lip, gazing at you.

You can't look him in the eye. Instead, you study your hands, nervously wringing a napkin in your lap. Maybe he looked different, I mean, boys grow into men and some change drastically or at least enough for your brain to not make the connection. You shake your head, unable to convince yourself. "If we had pictures or something--"

Bucky inhales deeply, exhaling slowly. You're right, and he knows it. He has to find something, do something more than making breakfast with your favourite flowers. "I can check the storage locker this afternoon." He speaks softly, trying to salvage the moment.

You lift your head with a slight smile, eyes sparkling with hope.

Bucky looks away. He wracks his brain and SIGHS in defeat. "Maybe, I have something." He leaves the room. You hear his footsteps cross the foyer, a door opening, the office perhaps, and moments later, closing with the click of a lock, all while you continue to pick at your food. "Not much service out here." He says on his return, a laptop in hand. "But you don't need service to see your stories."

You perk up. "Stories?"

Bucky takes his seat, opening a webpage full of short stories. "See... And you have a few notes." He opens a file on the desktop, and you lean closer. "Plus, there is an app on here with some of your unpublished projects."

"I actually did it. I'm a writer?" Bucky nods, pride evident on his face. "But no pictures?" You scroll through an open file.

"I left your tablet and camera with everything else. It was too hard to look at your picture." You meet his sad eyes with your own. "I liked reading your stories though from time to time. I could hear your voice in your writing." Bucky looks away, restraining that lingering need to touch you. He clears his throat before continuing. "I promise I won’t come home until I find the boxes of our memories."

You give him a hopeful smile. "I would really like to see them." You return your attention to the laptop, skimming through a story. "He feels so real, like I know him."

"You have been writing about him for years or had been." He shrugs. "I guess it makes sense that you would have a picture of him in your mind. But over me?!" He turns to you, a wounded look in his eye.

You close the laptop and return to your plate. "I can't control it and..." You sit up straight, standing your ground. "And you cannot expect me to keep apologizing." Your eyes meet. "I hate that I remember silly things like my favourite colours, stepping on a bee while away at camp." You shock yourself with the random tidbit yet feel the need to continue. "Or the time I thought my fish died and I had to scoop him out of the toilet before he disappeared forever." You look into his eyes with shock, and simultaneously the pair of you share a short and QUIET LAUGH. Then the joy all but fades and is replaced with sorrow. "Yet I can't remember you. And I want to, I do." You reassure him.

He sits in silent aggravation, jaw clenched, searching for the right words. Releasing yet another heavy sigh, "I'll try to be more supportive. But I can't promise I won't be affected by this too." Bucky softens and sneaks one of your pancakes, attempting to lighten the mood. "This would be a lot easier if either of us had a family." He pushes back from the table and carries his plate to the sink, catching a glimpse of a deer and her two fawns crossing the land from the window as he does.

"Our babies?" You remind him.

He turns around, leaning on the counter. "I’m visiting the station after I swing by the storage unit. I think it will be better if you stay here." Bucky kisses your head on his way out. Though he doesn't go far, disappearing into the office, leaving you to finish breakfast alone.

Bucky locks the office door as he enters. He picks up a file box next to the door and turns to face the room.

A corkboard takes up the better part of the outer wall. A small frosted window floods the room with natural light. The corkboard is covered and overflowing with surveillance photos of you and Steve, your children, news reports, and redacted papers. There are photos of an unknown crime scene also posted to the wall and documents outlining a secret op.

Bentley crosses the room and begins dismantling his conspiracy wall, tossing everything into the box.

He turns to the desk tucked against the wall next to a lavish floor-to-ceiling bookshelf. He stuffs papers into a stack of folders, the top file labelled Steve Rogers, then sweeps the pile into the box.

A final file lays on the desk, Y/N Barnes. He pulls his eyes from the file, digging through the box as if remembering something. He removes a cell phone and plugs the device into his laptop, sitting as he enters the password.

Hacked CCTV and security cams pop up. Bucky minimizes the windows and opens the files on the phone. Your personal pictures fill the screen, selfies with the children, candid photos of Steve, and posed shots with the whole family. He scowls at the computer, clenching his fists, fingernails digging into his palms.

He returns to the computer, fingers gliding across the trackpad with determination, keystrokes violent. A secure, encrypted server, collecting files, pictures, etc. and simultaneously erasing Y/N Rogers from all online and government databases opens. He hides the program in the background and returns to the desktop to open a secure file of photos, himself and you. Then brings up your cell phone gallery side-by-side with his own. He examines the pictures of your family closer. Selecting a photo from his file, he crops you out, removes the background, and drags the image of himself over top Steve in one of the family photos.

He adds the finished product to his secure file, checks on the program in the background, still wiping your identity, and leans back in his chair. His attention falls to the family photo, the section with the children visible beneath the open window. After a moment, he leans forward and clicks on the doctored snapshot, studying it closely as he waits.

Next Chapter

Tag List: @buckyalpine ​ @pono-pura-vida @cjand10​ @lou-la-lou​ @liarasstuff​ @royalwriteroftheuniverse​ @noodle81937

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 125.3 Accidental Bonding (Part 3)

You can start at Part One, if you'd like.)

"Piss off, Malfoy," Jenkins snarled from across the room at the end of the training exercise, drawing Harry's attention from the conversation he was having with Ron. "You are such an arsehole. You think you're so clever, so much better than us," he shoved Malfoy's shoulders, "but you're just a slimy Dark Lord worshiper-"

"Oy!" Harry shouted, darting forward and physically putting his body between Jenkins and Malfoy, "Don't talk to him like that."

"I'll talk to that fu-"

"You need to back down," Harry growled, his body thrumming with energy, fingers tingling with the urge to punch Jenkins in the face, his magic racing hot and bright under his skin.

Malfoy put a hand on Harry's shoulder, "Don't," he said. "He's not worth it."

He glared at the other man for a moment before taking a step toward the locker room.

"Oh, I get it," Jenkins sneered, "some people are so possessive of their pets. He's letting you fuck him now, so-"

Harry spun around so fast that Jenkins didn't have a moment to see what was about to happen as Harry's fist connected with his jaw. "Watch your mouth," he growled, low in his throat. "We aren't sleeping together but even if we were that wouldn't change the fact that he is twice the auror you will ever be." He took another step closer, "He's smarter, faster, and has better instincts. And everyone knows that your pathetic attempts to belittle him are out of jealousy. So you can fuck off before you make an even bigger arse of yourself."

"Alright," Ron said, holding out his hands between them. "That's enough."

Jenkins spat blood at Harry's feet but had the good sense not to say anything more as he left and slammed the door behind him.

Harry turned to see Malfoy storming away from him. "Malfoy," he shouted but the other man threw him a two fingered salute and stalked off.

"What the hell?" Harry grumbled.

(Read more below the cut)

Ron shrugged, "Beats me, mate." He slapped him on the shoulder, "but I wouldn't want to be going home with him. He looked pissed."

-------------

Regrettably Ron was right, Malfoy was pissed. Harry couldn't understand it and the other man wouldn't say a word to him about it.

They went home and Malfoy shut himself in the bedroom without a word, leaving Harry standing completely confused in the living room. "What the hell?" he repeated.

Hands on his hips, he stared off after the other man and replayed what he'd said to Jenkins for the fiftieth time, trying to figure out what had made Malfoy so mad.

Giving up on trying to puzzle it out seemed like the only course of action so he headed into the kitchen and started dinner. In the past week and a half, Draco had cooked, they'd cooked together, or ordered take out. Harry hadn't cooked anything on his own since he's arrived and honestly, he was glad for the chance to cooking now.

He chopped up an onion, diced a carrot, chopped up a stalk of celery, and minced several cloves of garlic. Then he turned to the stove and heated a frying pan, pouring in some olive oil before tossing in the veggies and letting them cook down while he chopped up lettuce for a salad.

After about ten minutes, he added the ground beef, salt, and pepper into the frying pan and uncorked a bottle of Merlot, pouring himself a generous glass and dumping a few ounces in with the beef and veg.

He cast a simple spell to keep the spoon stirring while the beef browned and he turned to cut up tomatoes and onions for the salad and made a simple vinaigrette. When the beef was brown and fragrant, he added in tomato paste, diced tomatoes, basil, oregano, and a dash of nutmeg before stirring it all together.

With a pleased hum, he put the lid on the pot and cast a spell that would condense the simmering time to about thirty minutes instead of three hours.

While the sauce cooked down he baked brownies, tossed the salad, and prepped the water and spaghetti. Boiling the spaghetti, cutting the brownies, and plating everything was easy after that. Harry topped the bowls of bolongese with freshly grated Parmesan and basil.

Then, after a moment of debate, he decided to bring dinner to Malfoy instead of the other way around and laid out their salads, bowls of bolognese, glasses of wine, and brownies onto a tray. He levitated it down the hall and knocked on the door.

"Come in," Malfoy called, sounding bored and detached and Harry had to take a steadying breath to tamp down the irritation that tone of voice invoked before opening the door.

"Made dinner," he said casually.

Malfoy turned his head from where he was laying on the bed, idly catching a snitch and releasing it. He sat up, his blonde hair trailing behind him, "It smells good."

"You don't need to sound surprised," Harry teased.

Malfoy opened his mouth to protest but Harry continued as he set the tray in the middle of the bed.

"I'm just kidding," he assured quickly.

"Do you really think that it's wise to consume red wine and pasta on a white bed?" Malfoy asked, one eyebrow arched at him as he climbed onto the bed across the tray from Malfoy.

"It'll be fine," Harry assured as he picked up his salad bowl and speared a tomato. "We're wizards, we'll magic it away if we must."

Malfoy hummed but picked up his own salad. "Thank you."

He shrugged a shoulder, "No problem. I like to cook, actually."

"Do you?" Malfoy asked curiously.

Harry nodded, "Yeah. Once we left Hogwarts and I was living on my own, I was eating out all the time and it wasn't doing me any favors. So I learned how to make some simple things that taste good." He tilted his head, "What about you? You're not a bad cook."

His cheeks turned a light pink and he cleared his throat, "That's Granger's doing actually."

"Sorry?"

He sighed, "She made a really good case about house elves. I didn't want to be who my parents wanted me to be so when I moved out and joined the aurors, I basically shunned anything that whiffs of pureblood bullshit. It has no place here," he said gesturing to his home with his fork.

Harry blinked, "That's amazing."

"Shut up."

"No, I'm serious," Harry said. "You're amazing and I had no idea."

"Stop," Malfoy said. "Please, it's not-"

"Is that what earlier was about?"

Malfoy stilled, "Excuse me?"

"Is that why you were upset?" he asked. "You thought that I was taking the piss?"

"I thought that you have an insufferable hero complex that makes me want to vomit," he growled.

"You're a hedgehog," Harry said, finally understanding.

Malfoy froze, "Who told you that?"

"Told me what?" Harry asked.

"That my patronus is a hedgehog," he said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Harry laughed and Malfoy flushed cherry red, his eyes narrowed. "No, sorry," Harry said holding out a hand, "I'm not laughing at you. I'm laughing because I had no idea, honestly!"

"Then what made you say it?" he asked suspiciously.

"Just," he paused and took a bite of bolognese as he searched for the right words, "When you start to feel vulnerable or like someone is going to hurt you, you curl into this defensive ball that will stab at someone no matter what they say or do."

"I-"

"You are genuinely one of the best aurors in our class," Harry said earnestly, steering the conversation to something more tangible that they were less like to fight over. "I was serious."

Malfoy rolled his eyes, "You're just saying that because the bond-"

He shook his head, "I've always thought that," he protested. "It's annoying as fuck because it always seems like everything comes so easily to you. I used to complain about it to Ron all the time."

"Says you," Malfoy protested. "You're always doing everything right; throwing yourself into danger to protect people." He shook his head, "By all accounts, what you do shouldn't work but it does. You're a good auror, Potter."

Harry swallowed, "Thanks, Malfoy. That means a lot coming from you."

"Yes, well," he said as he took a sip of wine, "Don't let it go to your head."

Harry chuckled and they took a few bites in companionable silence before Draco started to talk again.

"You didn't have to come to my rescue with Jenkins, you know."

He waved the thought away, "He's an arse. We've had it out before."

"I'm just saying," he argued, "I was fine. Honestly what he was saying wasn't even that bad."

"Not that bad?!" Harry yelped. "He-"

Malfoy shook his head, "It's the bond, Potter, don't you see that? Jenkins has said a lot worse, other trainees have said a lot worse, and you've never felt the need to jump in and defend my honor before."

Harry frowned.

"You're being swayed by what the bond wants you to feel about me."

"I'm not sure you're right," he said. "Because you shouldn't be treated like that at work. No one should be treated like that."

"Be that as it may-"

"I'm just saying, even if the bond brought it to my attention, I would have done that for anyone. If he'd been saying shite like that to Ron, I would have decked him, too."

Malfoy looked like he was going to argue with him, before visibly changing his mind, "You do have a wand, you know. There's no need to resort to brute force."

Harry shrugged, "But there's just something so satisfying about punching someone."

A laughed forced it's way up Malfoy's throat and Harry grinned at him. Shaking his head, Malfoy replied, "You're ridiculous. And this is good, by the way," he added, pointing to his pasta with his fork.

"Good," Harry said with a pleased little smile.

The conversation turned lighter as they bickered about the training exercises and the best approach, but the bickering held none of the animosity it had a week and a half before.

And Harry couldn't help but wonder how much of this was the bond's doing and how much was simply him.

-----------------

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4

[miekasa]

random armin/mikasa/jean headcanons (college au)

↯ pairing: armin x (fem) reader, mikasa x (fem) reader, jean x (fem) reader

↯ genres and warnings: college au, fluff, lets see how many times i can mention eren in writing that has absolutely nothing to do with him

↯ notes: this.... probably won’t be a regular thing, i don’t know that i can consistently continue writing for them, but this sure was fun and reminded me that i actually have feelings for someone other than levi :// didn’t ask for that, but here we are

ARMIN ARLERT

Would most likely get pretty good grades, but he can definitely be lazy about it and hear me out.

If it’s a class that he likes and is genuinely interested in (which is the majority of them), he’s going to put in the work—sometimes too much work—to make sure he’s doing well. He usually studies very meticulously, and stays on top of his game throughout the semester.

But if it’s one of those bs classes the university makes you take, or some kind of stupid elective that was the only course that could fit into his schedule? Well, Armin is smart enough to bullshit his way through anything, so he’s not going to exert himself for a class he doesn’t even care about. 

Oh, and he’s very vocal about complaining to you about said bullshit courses. (Completely justified, go off king).

“I swear sometimes the TA just lowers marks randomly to ‘keep the class average.’ Granted, I didn’t really study for the quiz, so I wasn’t expecting a stellar grade or anything, but I know they do that sometimes.” “Well, babe, why didn’t you study.” “Because I hate it, (Y/N).”

Like I said, takes school seriously and tries his best; but even he knows he doesn’t have to be at 100% all the time. It’s also kind of a flex how smart he is and how much he can get by on doing the absolute bare minimum.

Poor Connie is studying his ass off for their shared elective and Armin barely looked at the first page of the textbook, and he’ll probably get a 90 anyways.

Imagine he’s so caught up with his other classes, he actually forgets about a midterm for his stupid elective, and at first he’s freaking out, so you kind of have to remind him of who tf he is. You finally get him to relax and he blinks at you, “Oh right, I didn’t study because I didn’t have to haha nice.” 

Helps you prepare for presentations by letting you practice them in front of him. Actually gives good feedback, but sometimes he’s just watching you and not really listening.

Sometimes, you have to be the one to remind him to take a step back and take care of himself, before his schoolwork. He doesn’t like to worry you, and likely feels guilty when he sees you walking up to him in the library at 2am; so he won’t fight you on it, and just lets you help him pack up all his stuff and head home for the day.

Likes head massages. Maybe sometimes has faked a little bit of a headache to get you to massage his head and play with his hair. He’ll never tell.

If you rub his cheek while he’s laying on top of you, he will knock out like a baby. Almost immediately. It’s a surefire way to get him to go to sleep.

Schedules dates with you, and plans them out meticulously. Sometimes gets playful and sends you a whole ass e-vite.

“Armin, why do I have an email invitation for our date to the library?” “So that you don’t forget, of course.��� “How could I forget, it’s later today, and you’re literally helping me study for my midterm.” “With popcorn!”

Probably the type to get a job on campus. You and your friends come to visit him when he’s on shift and annoy him. He secretly likes it.

Oh, he’s kind of shady. Scratch that, can be very shady. He complains about school to you, but also just complains to you in general; he doesn’t outwardly do that a lot, but you’re his confidant.

Sometimes you get surprised and call him out on it and you’re like “Oh my god, Armin, the poor girl didn’t mean to mess up the project,” and he’s like “Well. Sometimes people are idiots and it has to be said.”

Has a bad habit of rolling his eyes and he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. “Did you just roll your eyes at me.” “I don’t know, did I?” Bye.

His hands are always covered in some kind of ink/markings. Accidental brushes of his pens, streaks from his highlighters or markers, a little bit of lead from his pencil along the side of his palm.

Speaking of which, he strikes me as the kind of guy to keep a bullet journal. Not necessarily decked out and fancy with Polaroids and extravagant fonts; but definitely neat, and decorated to some extent, depending on how he’s feeling. It makes him feel organized.

He would pencil in important dates and markers of your relationship into said journal. “Friday night: museum date—remember to buy the tickets in advance.”

If anyone is going to buy, wash, peel, and cut up fruit for you, it’s going to be Armin.

Lowkey tutoring all of his friends, and might be the sole reason that Connie hasn’t dropped out yet. He likes tutoring you the most, though. 

Get this, sometimes he asks you to tutor him, even if he knows damn well he doesn’t need it. Maybe he’ll even sign up for a stupid elective if it’s a class you’ve taken before, just to have an excuse to get you to teach him something. 

Likes trying new things with you. He might not always like the new things that you try, but he’s open to trying them at least once. Well… most things anyways. Just don’t ask him to get up at dawn and go jogging with you.

I genuinely cannot tell if he would be a morning person or not. Maybe mid-morning. Probably not a rise-and-shine at 6am kind of guy, but is up by at least 10:00am every day. Very cute when he’s groggy though, and stumbles around a bit like a baby deer when he first gets up, especially if he’s hungry.

He likes to bike. And really likes when you go on bike rides with him. As long as you both are on your own bikes, you learned the hard way that tandem biking isn’t cut out for you.

Knows that all-nighters aren’t good for you, but sometimes you have to pull them anyways. If you both have a lot to get done, he’ll stay up with you and make sure you both take breaks and drink water.

Can twirl his pens in that really fast and fancy way, and can do the thing where he rolls it between all his fingers too. I’ll let you think bout the implications of that for yourself.

He likes watching cartoons, and reels you into all his favorites. Definitely likes to stay in on weekends watching cartoons with you and just chilling.

Will go to a party with you if you ask, or if his friends are hosting, but nothing beyond that. You didn’t hear this from me, but he’d probably like to smoke more than drink.

Sometimes you think he needs a break and you commission Eren to take him out for the night, but Armin still comes back looking more composed than him. A little sleepy and maybe a bit out of it, but not sloshed, much to your disappointment. “Eren, you really couldn’t have tried to be more a bad influence?? I was counting on you!!”

Eren’s confused, like, “Did you want me to get him white boy wasted??” “Yeah, kinda!! It’s what he deserves every once in a while. Ugh, next time I’m calling in Sasha, she knows how to drink.”

By the way, if you’re dating Armin, you’re kind of dating (or at least babysitting) Eren too. Or vice versa. Either way, they will also go on dates without you. (“Hanging out. We’re hanging out, and I’m tutoring him so he doesn’t fail Biology, (Y/N).” “Likely story, ocean eyes.”)

Can be touchy in a very absentminded way. He’ll reach out to play with your ears/earrings, habitually rub at your shoulders if you’re standing in front of him, mindlessly toy with the ends of your clothing. Half the time he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, he’s so cute.

Plays one sport—is on the soccer team. It keeps him busy, and forces him to focus on something that isn’t academics once in a while. He’s pretty good at it, too; he and Eren make a good team when they play together.

You and Eren tried to get him to join the baseball team too. Eren, because he likes playing with Armin. You, because, well… the uniforms. He would look so good in the uniform.

MIKASA ACKERMAN

Makes her classes look like a breeze, even though it’s at least 300 pages of reading and writing per week.

Kind of gives me Elle Woods “What, like it’s hard?” kind of vibes when it comes to schoolwork. You’re in awe of how she just did 75 pages of reading with a tiny ass font in one sitting, and she just blinks at you like “Was it supposed to be difficult?”

Speaking of which, she likes to read in general; for leisure, outside of her school work. She’ll recommend you books, too. If you don’t like to read, she’ll still try and rope you in with shorter stories, or just read them aloud to you herself. 

Sits at a table across from you while you both do your schoolwork independently. It doesn’t sound like much, but it’s a quiet, almost implicit sense of intimacy that she really likes.

Bundles you up when it’s cold, and won’t take no for an answer. You will wear a hat, whether you like it or not.

Always prepared—and by that I mean, she carries things on her that she realizes you might need. Tissues, extra pens, an extra pair of mittens. She strikes me as the kind of person to pay attention to details like those.

Likes to walk you to class, even if her class is very far away from your building. She doesn’t mind.

On that note, she knows your schedule pretty well, where it pertains to classes and personal interests.

If you’re the type of person who can slack off or even just get caught up in other things when it comes to school work, she’ll be there to keep you on track and hold you accountable. Usually through setting aside times to study with you, but can even be through small things like asking you how your assignment is going.

(Nevermind that you completely forgot about the assignment, and hadn’t even started it—but that’s the point; she knew that).

Hear me out: holding pinkies. Maybe not when you’re walking, but when you’re seated next to each other. The longer you’re together, the more likely she is to initiate it, too.

Would rather study at home/in her apartment than in the library, but if you like to study there, she can compromise a few days out of the week.

Makes you playlists, and they’re usually really good, because she knows you so well. Sometimes she gets cute and customizes the cover art to a picture of the both of you.

She’s your ride or die, so if you complain to her about a prof you don’t like or a TA you don’t think is fair she’s 100% on your side. She might not always be able to do anything about it, but she’ll definitely let you complain to her.

Texts you throughout the day to check up on you, but usually disguised through other questions. Asks what you want/had for lunch when she’s really checking to make sure you ate. Asks you what time your lectures end, just to make sure you didn’t skip it (again). Asks you what time you’re going to be done studying to make sure you don’t stay up all night cramming again.

Takes a genuine interest in your courses, and absolutely loves to listen to you talk about them.

If your classes are vastly different, she’ll still try and help you however she can, even if it’s only in small ways, like proofreading something for you.

Doesn’t use emojis alot, so your contact doesn’t have a bunch of hearts next your name on anything. But she does put your last name in as Ackerman. 

Has social media, but mostly uses it to keep up with her friends, and you. You’re in most of the few pictures that she does post, and she might not say it, but she really likes it when you post photos of/with her. 

Not sure why, but I think she’d be a pretty decent artist if she tried. That trend of doing glass paintings on TikTok? I think she’d be into that, and would plan out the whole thing as a date with you.

Keeps up with all your favorite shows to talk about or watch them with you. Sometimes she’ll purposely miss a few episodes so that she can spend the night and marathon them with you.

Likes to stay in and drink cheap wine and just watch or talk about whatever with you. You could watch a terrible show just to laugh and comment on it the entire time and she would be so happy. 

Doesn’t like to sit down on public transportation, and honestly would rather you didn’t either, but she’s not going to stop you from taking a seat. If you’re sitting, she’ll stand in front of/over you, and always keeps wire headphones long enough for you to share music that way.

The most insufferable human when she’s sick and she knows it. She hates being sick. And she knows you shouldn’t be around her or else you might get sick but she also just wants you to hold her. (You do).

Likes to sleepover at your place. Talks with you about your day while you lay down. Always smells good. Very cuddly when sleepy. 10/10.

Hates the act of doing her laundry, but likes doing it with you. Lowkey starts buying and using the same detergent and fabric softener as you because it makes her smell like you.

Gets very embarrassed if you kiss her in public. Very red in the cheeks, it’s kind of cute, so I wouldn’t blame you if you did it on purpose.

JEAN KIRSTEIN

Jean is… quite smart, if you ask me. Or, at the very least, analytical, which can be applied to a variety of academic settings.

The only thing is, he’s incredibly lazy about it. He wants to do well in school, and can definitely pull himself together for a midterm or an exam; but is horrible at keeping pace with all his other work and assignments on a regular basis.

He also can’t sit still, which is why even though he is very kind and chivalrous and brings many snacks to your study sessions, he is also competing for number one worst study partner. Right next to Eren and Sasha.

Gets pouty when you tell him you don’t want to study with him. “But… but… but I brought snacks! And bubble tea!” “Yes, but you also have the attention span of a rabbit, Jean.”

At the end of the day he understands… that doesn’t mean he’s not going to be bitter about it LOLOL. It’s fine, you can make it up to him by hanging out with him afterwards.

Is, like, classically trained in at least two instruments because his mom put him in lessons as a child. He used to hate it growing up, and he doesn’t practice much now, so he never talks about it.

One day you happen to mention something about comparing two songs, telling him they remind you of each other but you don’t know exactly why or why, and very nonchalantly he’s like, “They sound similar because they share the same major chord in the chorus, and they’re in the same key.” 

And you just kind of blink at him like, “Okay, Beethoven. How. How did you know that.”

Once you realize he can, like, actually play the piano and violin really well you’re always begging him to play for you. It doesn’t happen often—it’s not like he owns a violin anymore and he certainly doesn’t have a grand piano in his shitty college apartment—but sometimes you sneak into the music room when it’s empty and he’ll play something for you.

He’s a romantic at heart, so he doesn’t mind, and if anything kind of enjoys you watching him play. It’s much better than playing for random parents in a recital. You’re dead if you ever mention it to any of his friends though.

Also not a frat boy, but definitely likes to party. Everything with reason. If he crushed a midterm on Thursday, he deserves to throw back a few beers on Friday night, you know?

Touchy when he’s drunk. Well, touchier than normal; he’d be the most affectionate out of every one on a regular basis. But he’s touchy and messy when he’s drunk, so he’s all over you.

Messy, but happy. All smiles and giggles and red cheeks, with his arm around your shoulder, boasting you anybody who will listen about his super hot girlfriend.

He and Eren throw the best parties when they team up together. (Only slightly related, but those two, when drunk together, could probably pass as a couple; they’re so uncharacteristically happy, and affectionate. You may or may not be keeping some photo and video evidence of Eren and Jean drunk cuddling).

Sends you videos when you’re in the middle of class. And only then. He plans it to be annoying. Because he is annoying.

Also always sending you those in-messsage games while you’re in the middle of lecture or studying. “PLEASE play virtual pool with me!! I’ll even let you win one round!!” “I AM TRYING TO LEARN!!” “LEARN LATER 😡😡😡”

A fucking fiend in your Instagram comments. It’s a miracle none of them have been removed or reported for inappropriate content. Replies to OTHER people’s comments complimenting YOU!! He’s so much

@sashabraus: aww you look so cute @youruser!! that color looks so good on you 💕 @jeannotjean: omg omg tysm @sashabraus 😊 i picked it myself @youruser: SHE WAS TALKING TO ME @jeannotjean!!! ME!!! @jeannotjean: @youruser you have no proof 🙄 @youruser: SHE USED MY @!!!! GET OUT OF MY COMMENTS!!! @jeannotjean: you’re so hot when you yell at me via insta comments 🥵🥵🥵 would it be better if i slid into your dm’s instead 😫😫😉 @youruser: @jeannotjean BLOCKED!! EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY!!

You try explaining your coursework to him and he’s just looking at you with puppy dog eyes like, “I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about, babe, but you look hot while doing it, so, please, continue.”

He’s another cocky annoying bastard (endearing). Always tilting you head up to look at him and smirk at you. Pisses you off just to put his arm around your shoulder and be like, “It’s okay, I know you love me anyways.” Winks at you in public just to embarrass you. He’s the worst. The worst.

King of picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder for absolutely no reason at all.

He lowkey wants to get an ear piercing and uses you to talk him into it. “Don’t you think I’d look hot with a piercing? I think I would.” “You would look good regardless, Jean. So, do it if you want to.” “Right. But, like.... do you think I would look hot.”

For as annoying and cocky as he can be, the second you actually genuinely tell him you think he’s attractive or talented or whatever, he gets kind of shy. It’s very cute. 

Likes trying new restaurants with you, even though he really should stop spending all his money on food. Sometimes trying new restaurants means ordering from a new place, but it’s whatever, you know.

Honestly… the two of you would probably have a ridiculously high Uber Eats bill. You really should go outside and, like, be people every once in a while LOLOL

Okay, but it’s mostly Jean’s fault. For as much as he likes to party, and doesn’t mind hosting a party, he doesn’t do much beyond that. He hangs out with his/your friends, and with you, obviously, but he’s not the kind of guy to have his weekend booked up all the time.

He would much rather stay in with you, and talk trash about his stupid group project partners, and lay on your stomach and try to teach you how to play his favorite video games.

Spoiler: he fucking lies and/or leaves out key parts of the gameplay!! Just so he can crush you and laugh about it!! Annoying, but you’re the one keeping him around, so, who can you really blame but yourself.

[azaleavi]

“All of the songs are about you”

Requested by anon: Hi, first of all I want to thank you for all your amazing work that you share with us, I absolutely adore everything that you write!!! Secondly, I was wondering if I could request something with Sebastian, where reader is a famous singer and younger than him, and when they reveal their relationship, people start saying that he is only using her and he gets worried that she will leave him for someone her age. Once again, thank you! 😚

Word count: 2k

Author's note: Thank you for your kind words dear nonnie! I hope you like it.

Warning(s): language

Feedback is always appreciated and don’t forget to reblog and like if you enjoyed it and want to see more. Thank you!

Masterlist

Both of you being famous wasn't easy with you being a singer and Sebastian being an actor. Especially when you wanted to keep your relationship a secret and you were quite younger than him. You have been dating for a while now and you couldn't be more in love with him. He was your muse for many of your songs, but the fans didn't know that. They did notice though that you started writing more love songs than before. You got questions about it almost every day, but you never answered them. They had their speculations, but you never confirmed any of it. It might be selfish, but you wanted to keep him all to yourself and both of you agreed to wait a little more before going public. He was promoting his new movie and you didn't want people to think that you announced your relationship only to give more publicity to it. But sometimes the universe doesn't care what you want.

It was a normal day, like any other, when you were at Sebastian's house and you started craving some McDonald's. The weather was nice for the time being past 10 pm so you decided to go out to buy it instead of ordering. It was dark already so you weren't afraid that anybody would see or recognize you. It was a five minute walk from his house and you thought it would be nice have a short walk. You waited for Sebastian to lock the front door then started walking down the street hand in hand. It probably wasn't the best idea, but you really didn't think that any paparazzi would be near you. You went into the fast food place to buy what you needed, then started walking back to his place, laughing at a story he was telling you. You loved these late night walks, the dark giving you a sense of comfort.

"Baby" he stopped walking as still giggled, making you stop as well. You turned to him, eyebrows raised in question, a smile still on your face. "I love you" he blurted out, intently looking at you, waiting for your reaction. He never said it before, despite dating for almost 6 months now. You didn't say it either yet, not wanting to make him uncomfortable or rush him. After his last relationship he wanted to be extra sure when saying the three words and you understood him. Your heart skipped a few beats at his confession, the smile widening on your lips.

"I love you too, Seb." you beamed, stepping closer to him and pulling him into a hug.

"Thank god." he mumbled into your hair, making you pull away.

"What do you mean 'thank god'? How could I not feel the same way about you? Haven't you heard the songs I wrote lately?" you asked jokingly in disbelief, but knowing he didn't mean it like that.

"You know what I mean" he blushed under the light of the streetlamp.

"I do" your arms going around his neck you pulled him down into a deep kiss. When you broke apart you walked back to his house to finally eat.

What you didn't realize was that there was a paparazzi following you, getting the perfect angle of your kiss, taking a series of photos.

The next morning you were woken up by your phone essentially exploding with calls and messages. You groaned as you reached for it, barely being able to touch it as Sebastian refused to let go of your waist.

"Why is your phone waking us up at the ass crack of dawn?" he groaned, rubbing his eyes.

"I don't know" you unlocked it to see at least 25 calls from your manager and another few from friends and family. Around the same amount of texts were sent as well, making you sit up in bed, confused. "Something is wrong." he sat up at your tone to look at your phone. You dialed your manager, putting it on speaker. She picked up right away.

"What the fuck are you doing?" she almost screamed into the device, making Sebastian look at you.

"I was sleeping. It's 7 am." you explained.

"Care to tell me why is you and Sebastian kissing plastered on every news site on the internet right now?" your whole world stopped at her words.

"What did you say?" Sebastian spoke up as you were still frozen in your spot.

"Oh your partner in crime is there too? Great. I don't have to say this twice." she was being sarcastic, but you didn't care. You just wanted an explanation.

"Tell us what is happening, please" you pleaded.

"There are multiple pictures of you going around. They are claiming that they took them last night." she explained, but that wasn't enough.

"What pictures?" you asked.

"Pictures of you holding hands and kissing." you ran your hand through your hair.

"Fuck" Sebastian sighed.

"That's an understatement." you heard shuffling on the other side. "So I recommend you guys figure out what you are going to do and do it real fast because it is getting out of hand."

"Yeah, sure we will do that." he took the phone from you. "Thanks."

"Just doing my work." she ended the call with a sigh. Sebastian looked at you as you stared at your legs, deep in thought.

"Hey" he brushed his hand up your back, shaking you out of your mind.

"Yeah?" you looked at him, startled.

"We need to do something." he explained.

"Yeah, yeah, sure. What should we do? Go public? I mean we don't really have any other choice." you furrowed your brows.

"Do you want that?" he wanted you to be hundred percent okay with whatever you were going to do.

"Yes, I just hoped it wouldn't happen like this." you sighed. "Do you want that?" you asked back.

"Yes. We already talked about going public so I guess we will have to do it now." he shrugged.

"How are we doing this then?" you stood up to get dressed, getting ready for the day.

"Posting a video on TikTok?" he grinned.

"Absolutely not. We are not posting on Tiktok." you shook your head, laughing.

"So where do you want it? Facebook?" he raised his eyebrows, joking.

"No." you laughed. "I was thinking about posting a pic on Instagram." you threw out the idea. Both of you used the app a lot so it would be the best choice.

"Okay, let's find a picture." he also stood up.

"Ah-ah" you held out your hand to stop him. "You talk to your manager while I pick out a picture to post on my account and you can post one on yours if you want to. Mine is going to be a surprise." you grinned, already having one in mind. It was your favorite picture of you, taken by a friend without your knowledge. You were in a parking lot at the beach, you sitting on the hood of his car while he was standing between your legs, kissing you. There was a second picture, where you were leaning your forehead against his, both of you laughing at your friends shouting at you to get a room. Both of your faces were clearly seen on them so you decided to post both of them.

'All of the songs are about you' the caption read. In seconds your notifications were blowing up with comments from fans. You didn't want to read them, because you knew how people on the internet could get and you knew that you being younger than him would bother some of them. Sebastian came out of the bedroom to sit next to you.

"You posted it?" he asked, taking out his phone.

"Yep" you smiled. You leaned your head against his shoulder as he opened the app, waiting for his reaction. He immediately searched up your name and tapped on the photo. His thumb froze on the little heart as he read the caption. He put the phone down and grabbed your chin to pull you to his soft lips in a kiss.

"I love you." he mumbled into your lips.

"I love you too." you giggled. He pulled away to pick up the phone to leave a comment. 'If I wrote songs mine would be about you too' you snorted at it. "You are cute"

-

A few days later you had enough courage to check the comments people were leaving online. Maybe it wasn't the best idea.

'Jesus. Isn't he like 12 years older than her?? Gross'

'He is definitely using her lmao but I can't blame him, get that coin king'

'Y'all think she calls him daddy in the bedroom kjsdnhs'

'She is just using him to write songs'

There were nice comments as well, calling you cute together and wishing you well. The mean comments always stuck with you more though and you didn't want Sebastian to read them. It was enough that you went through them. Both of you were a little insecure about your age gap, but you loved each other so you helped the other through the harder times.

You got to his house and walked in as he asked you to not to knock anymore. You found him sitting on his couch, phone in hand. Hoping that he wasn't doing what you thought he was doing you sat down next to him. He had instagram open.

"Seb" you sighed, taking the phone out of his hands.

"What? I just wanted to see what they were saying." he tried to defend himself.

"You shouldn't read these." you shook your head. "So you wanna watch a movie?" you changed the subject. He agreed with your suggestion.

The movie had been playing for a half an hour when he pulled away from your cuddling.

"What if they are right?" his voice was so quiet so almost didn't hear him. You paused the movie to look at him.

"What do you mean?" you asked, confused by his sudden outburst.

"The comments saying that you could do so much better than me" he kept looking at his feet. You sat up and grabbed his chin to turn his head towards you, your heart breaking at his words. This was exactly why you didn't want him to read them.

"Baby" you sighed. "They are not right. Not even by far. I could not find anyone better than you even if I tried. But I'm not trying because I have you with me and you are the best thing that happened to me in a long time. So get that thought out of your head." you stared into his eyes to get your point across.

"But don't you want someone your age?"

"No I don't." you shook your head. "I am perfectly happy with you and I don't need anyone else." you held his cheeks between your palms. "Plus I like it that you are older." you smirked making him chuckle lightly. Climbing onto his lap you pulled him closer. "I love it that you are more experienced." you pressed a soft kiss on his cheek. "I love it that you are taller." a kiss under his ear. "I love it that you are always so so sweet to everyone you meet." a kiss on his nose. Your right hand went into his hair as your lips kissed down to his neck. "And I love the way you make me feel when it's just the two of us." you whispered into his ear, your breath hitting his skin, making him let out a moan. He grabbed your waist in a strong grip. "I love how big your hands are." you nipped at his skin on his neck earning another noise of pleasure and his fingers digging into your skin. "But most importantly" you pulled away so you could look into his eyes to show your sincerity. "I love you. All of you. With everything I have." his eyes softened as he pulled you into a passionate kiss.

"I love you too."

Permanent taglist: @byatomoe

Sebastian Stan taglist: @wobblymug @sleutherclaw @toms-spiders @sarcastically-defensive17 @allforkook @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @mrsbarnesinmyimagination @bbl32 @wakandabiitch2

get added to my taglist

[greyelven]

songs for the end of the world | a Daeron/Maglor fic [AO3]

a gift for @polutrope for the @gatesofsummerexchange

Summary: Daeron and Maglor meet on the edges of what used to be Beleriand to talk stories, the weight of the past, and whether either of them has a future.

Beleriand was gone. Daeron was retracing the footsteps of his ancestors to Cuiviénen when the tremors started, too far east to feel the earth being devoured. But even there, rumours began to reach him, travellers with strange tales of destruction on a scale that could only be the work of the Valar.

Before he had time to think what he was doing, Daeron turned his feet in the direction he never thought to go again. There was plenty of time to stop himself on the long journey home, as he walked without resting through days and nights, but he trusted his instincts. He had little else to guide him.

Soon he began to feel the ground stirring beneath him, waking him as he slept and occasionally knocking him off his feet. Everyone he passed was fleeing in the opposite direction. He stopped the odd survivor here and there, the ones travelling in twos or threes or by themselves, as he always was, taking care to avoid anyone with the familiar lilt of a Iathrim accent.

He was not in hiding, exactly. He just wasn’t ready to go back to them, not yet. There was freedom in anonymity. Though his reputation had spread far beyond his native land, the stories were vague enough that none would think to attach them to him. He listened now, more than he sang, and spoke in tongues not his own. Unless he was alone, when he sung Lúthien’s name to the hills and the stars that kept it safe.

He struggled to make sense of what he heard on the road. The people who lived to tell of the cataclysm were those on its furthest edges, and their accounts were often second or third hand. Doriath was gone, that was agreed upon, but some said dwarves and some the sons of Fëanor and some said the sea had swallowed it up. The dwarves muttered curses at Thingol’s name, but were more preoccupied with talk of mountains crumbling and their cities in ruins.

Daeron didn’t truly understand until he passed into Eriador and saw for himself the broken skyline of Ered Luin. The spaces where whole peaks were missing. He had intended to scale them and look to the west, but his desire to tread on the dust of fallen mountains was stronger. He found himself by the sea, a gulf so new it had no name yet. He peered over cliffs raw and jagged, and trod on shorelines that had yet to settle in one place.

There was no need to climb anymore. To the west there was only sea.

The desolation robbed him of all words. The land was silent too, the birds and beasts fleeing as the people had. He snared the occasional rabbit, but for the most part had to rely on roots and berries to keep himself fed, until the cliffs came to an end and he could walk right down to the shore. There, he hooked sleek silver fish and cooked them over a driftwood fire.

One such night, as he sat on a rocky beach turning the fish on a spit, he found himself with company. Someone moving beyond the light of the flames. Their tread was light, but their shape hunched – he couldn’t tell if they were Eldar or Edain, or something else entirely.

“Greetings, stranger,” he said. “Come and warm yourself, and share my meal. I have more than I need.”

He didn’t, but he was tired of silence. It had been weeks since he’d seen another soul.

“And does that offer extend to the likes of me?” the stranger asked, materialising out of the shadows.

Not a stranger, after all, though his face was much changed. Daeron fought to hide his shock.

“So you did survive, kinslayer. I confess I thought that poetic licence.”

Maglor flinched.

“I saw the fire, and thought… I will go, if my company is distasteful to you.”

“I bade you welcome,” Daeron said sharply. “That still holds.”

Maglor eyed him warily, but his gaze kept slipping, drawn to the roasting fish, and eventually he sat. The flames between them lit up the hollows of his face.

“So. How did the last son of Fëanor end up lost and alone, on these strange shores?”

“Haven't you heard the stories?” Maglor said. His voice was hoarse, as if the song had been burned out of it.

“Fragments,” Daeron said. “You are the only one who knows them in full.”

Maglor didn’t answer.

“Nothing to say for yourself, kinslayer?” Daeron said.

“You’ve already made up your mind about me,” Maglor said. “Why should I give you more ammunition? So you can taunt me, and feel better about yourself?”

“It’s a lonely life out here, kinslayer,” Daeron said. “How long can you bear the weight of your mistakes alone?”

“How long have you borne yours, Daeron the faithless?” Maglor shot back.

“Ah, but my tale is known far and wide,” Daeron said. “I can forget, if I choose; others will remember for me, and tell me anew should I wish it. Yours, though… I can see it consuming you already. Your skin clings to your bones. In ten years there won’t be anything left of you.”

“Unless I entrust you with my deepest secrets?” Maglor’s smile was bitter. “My life has left me with only one thing: the telling of it. I will not surrender it, not to the likes of you.”

“Perhaps you are stronger than you look,” Daeron said. “Here, this is ready.”

He held the spit out. Maglor reached to take the fish off the end, and Daeron drew back involuntarily.

He had overlooked a crucial detail. Maglor’s hands were ruined, burnt black, the skin cracked and blistered. Hands that could no longer pluck strings or dance over a pipe – or grasp a sword. He held them gingerly, fingers curved like claws.

No wonder he was hungry.

Daeron took the spit back, pulling the hot flesh into pieces before offering it to Maglor again. It was gone so fast it felt cruel to watch. He gave him the second fish too, and that disappeared just as fast.

“What happened to you?” Daeron said softly.

Maglor held his hands up to the firelight, turning them so Daeron might see the full extent of the damage. They were mesmerising, in their way, something that should have belonged to a corpse rather than a living creature. Daeron had never seen anything like it.

“Gruesome, aren’t they?” he said conversationally, and Daeron jumped, ashamed to be caught staring though that was clearly what Maglor had intended.

Maglor’s mouth twisted in something that might have been a smile. “I spent five hundred years pursuing a treasure I was no longer worthy of. Now I am punished for it, from the moment I wake to the moment I sleep. Is that the kind of story you wanted to hear?”

His eyes were fixed on Daeron, and Daeron could not look away.

“How about the one where your beloved’s son and all her kin perished at the hand of me and mine? Or how I stole her last descendants but could not make them my own? Would you like to hear of that?”

Daeron opened his mouth to reply but Maglor was shaking his head already.

“No. The only things I’ve created are grief and song, but now I’ve lost the songs too, and -”

He stopped abruptly, horror flickering across his features, but it was too late.

“Your voice is gone, isn’t it,” Daeron said.

Maglor had no answer for a long time. He bowed his head to hide his face. When at last he spoke, he was still staring at his hands, resting in his lap.

“I’ve never known such pain,” he said. “I screamed for days and days, it seemed, and when at last the burning began to fade a little, I couldn’t utter a word. I didn’t know if I would ever speak again.”

“Happy news for you,” he added, lifting his head. “Now you have no equal.”

“No,” Daeron said, “no, I cannot be happy at beauty being lost from the world.”

“Why?” Maglor said. “Why are you not repelled by me? You have no shortage of reasons to be.”

“It’s a lonely life out here,” Daeron repeated.

“No, there’s something more than that,” Maglor said. “I’m not the only wanderer in these parts. The Laiquendi still dwell in their woods at the feet of the mountains, the Casari deep in their caves – either would welcome you. But here you are, on a cold beach with a kinslayer who can offer you nothing.”

“Everyone has something they can offer me,” Daeron said. “I’ve been to the south, where there is little but sand for endless miles, east where the Morben still speak the first tongues of our people, north to the frozen wastes where mortal men hunt bears as white as the snow, and everywhere I have found music that I have never heard the likes of. Stories I thought lost to us forever. Like this -”

He reached for his harp, and plucked a lively tune.

“This is a drinking song of the people of - ”

He checked himself as he glanced from the flames to Maglor’s face, and saw anew the despair in those sunken eyes. He let the harp fall into his lap.

“Maybe you want to let your grief destroy you. I won’t get in your way. But there’s still a lot to see, Maglor son of Fëanor. I bid you stay because I thought you might join me. Help me collect the songs of all the people in Ennor.”

“What good would I be, when I cannot play?” Maglor said.

“The remembering is what matters,” Daeron said. “But this is not the time for you. I can see that now. You are not ready to leave your story behind. You can’t even give it to me. No, I will leave you to your own wanderings. Some day I will find you again, if it’s not too late, and then I will hear of your life.”

“Wait,” Maglor said, a note of desperation creeping into his voice. “I can offer you my music. All that’s in here.” He tapped his temple clumsily. “Take it, only promise you will play it. For me. For whoever you meet. It’s no use to me anymore.”

“I will take it gladly,” Daeron said. “And consider it a great honour. But not tonight. You are in no shape to be giving away your heart and soul.”

“I am not likely to get better,” Maglor said.

Daeron raised an eyebrow. “If we continue for much longer, you will lose your speaking voice as well. A night of rest and a good breakfast, and then we may begin.”

The fire had burnt down to embers, so they left it to die as they headed up the beach in search of a spot to sleep. It was still risky, being so close to the sea, but Maglor hadn’t the energy to go far and so Daeron chose a hollow just inside the treeline, cushy with moss and sheltered from the wind.

Maglor was careful to keep an arm’s-length between them, but when Daeron awoke he found the other elf had inched closer and closer to him until he was tucked behind Daeron’s back, smelling of salt and woodsmoke. He left Maglor sleeping and ventured deeper into the forest. Close to shore, the harsh sea air had withered the soft undergrowth, but further in he collected an array of mushrooms and ferns.

He sat cross-legged in the hollow, laid them out before him and waited for Maglor to wake. Before he let Maglor eat, he explained how to identify each one and where it could be found.

“I can see you haven’t been eating,” he said, silencing Maglor’s half-uttered question. “I won’t have you die on me.”

It took months for Maglor to teach Daeron all he knew, though Daeron was a quick learner, picking up even the most complex melodies from Maglor’s tapped beats and broken humming. When Daeron showed no less interest in the music of other Noldor, they branched out into that, too, and even the Vanyarin choral pieces that were traditionally played at festivals.

“This one, we would only perform if an important delegation came to Tirion,” Maglor said.

With nobody there to sing the harmonies to Daeron’s melody, it was lonely but unexpectedly beautiful, and Maglor found himself speechless when the last notes died away. The tip of Daeron’s finger brushed his eyelashes, and came away wet.

“When was the last time you heard that?” he asked.

“At Formenos,” Maglor said. “I tried to sing it with the Ambarussa but they were horribly off-key and wouldn’t stop laughing. Moryo – Caranthir – said it was so bad we would’ve been thrown out of Tirion all over again.”

Daeron began to play something similar but with unexpected notes intruding, until by the end they had transformed the song into something Maglor only just recognised.

“What is that?” he said.

“An old Telerin wedding song,” Daeron said, smiling. “Sung with a two-part harmony, usually, to the Vanyarin five, but with striking similarities, wouldn’t you say?”

Maglor nodded, only half-listening.

“Can you play the original again, for me?”

“Original?” Daeron mused. “Who can say which came first?”

“The Vanyarin one. Please.”

Daeron obliged. This time Maglor closed his eyes and let the tears trickle down his face, and Daeron gave him the lightest of kisses at the song’s end. Maglor held onto the feeling as long as possible, only opening his eyes when he could no longer feel the ghost of Daeron’s lips upon his own.

“What was that for?”

“Because you have given me a gift, and so I give one to you.”

“Your music is gift enough,” Maglor said.

If Daeron kissed him again he just might break. He would never survive the separation that Daeron still spoke of as a certainty, even though the seasons had changed since they met. Spring had melted into a golden summer, hot enough to swim in the sea and cook on sun-warmed stones.

“Music alone will not keep you alive,” Daeron said.

Though the tears had not yet dried on Maglor’s cheeks he felt them starting afresh.

“Is that the only reason for what you are doing? The only reason you have been caring for me? So I cannot die until you have taken everything you want from me?”

“Hush, Makalaurë,” Daeron whispered, and the sound of his tongue curling around the familiar letters made Maglor shiver before Daeron kissed him again.

They kept to the shoreline at first, tracing it to the westernmost point before turning south, along the edge of old Beleriand. Maglor seemed loath to leave the sea behind, and Daeron often found him staring towards it, lost in thought. Whether it was a longing for home or the lingering pull of the jewel, he didn’t know and didn’t ask.

One afternoon as they drowsed amidst the grasses of a sand-dune, waiting for Daeron’s lines to quiver with a catch, the sea stole up on them, dowsing Maglor’s feet in water. He awoke with a cry to find the waves rising all around, the sea claiming more land for its own.

They splashed through the foaming waves, making for higher ground. Daeron laughed in exhilaration at the sudden cold while Maglor grimly waded on. He had rescued Daeron’s drum, and the tight grip had broken his hands open, letting the stinging seawater in.

When they stopped they were miles inland, atop a wooded rise that seemed likely to stand above the waves even if they did reach that far. Daeron sprawled dramatically onto the ground, the grin still lighting up his face, while Maglor turned back to look at the flooded lands behind them. There were no cliffs along this part of the coast, and the sea had travelled far.

Their food and their waterskins were gone, along with Daeron’s hooks, lines and snares. Daeron had saved his pipe and his harp instead, and counted the rest no great loss. He set to replacing them, skinning rabbits, whittling hooks from bone, and stripping flax leaves for fibre, which he dried before weaving into fine strings.

Once the materials had been found, Maglor couldn’t help any further, so he talked as Daeron worked. The amount of time he spent teaching shrunk as the days went by, but Daeron didn’t seem to mind, not even when his supplies were replenished and their clothes cleaned and dried in the sun.

The salt had turned Maglor’s hair stiff and matted. Daeron offered to cut it short, for ease, but Maglor couldn’t bear another loss, so Daeron spent hours washing and combing it for him.

Deep in the woods he found a hive, and, singing to the bees to keep them from stinging, stole their honey. He brought it back like he’d found treasure, but wouldn’t let Maglor taste it. Instead he mixed it with water and rubbed it into Maglor’s scalp, pulling it through the long strands.

Once it was washed again and shining faintly in the light, he spooned the remaining honey into Maglor’s mouth in thick globs.

“Golden honey for a golden tongue,” he said, kissing Maglor after each spoon and tasting the sugar on his lips.

But none of Daeron’s sweet words and sweeter kisses could change one simple truth: Maglor was running out of songs. He was beginning to repeat them, sometimes accidentally, sometimes deliberately, but Daeron caught the repetition every time and stopped him. At first he was gentle, but his kindness had limits.

“That one I know. Another,” he said, with an impatient flick of his hand. No matter how much Maglor gave him he always wanted more.

When Maglor was left scouring the depths of his memory for something to teach him, Daeron was working on something new. Something sad. It was only a tune for the time being, though one day Maglor, returning from the spring where he’d filled their waterskins, caught clear words through the trees.

Daeron fell silent as he got closer, but Maglor had heard enough to know the subject.

“Your song is about Doriath,” he said. “The Fall of Doriath. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Daeron didn’t bother denying it. He sat cross-legged on a patch of grass, looking up at Maglor calmly.

“It’s a story that should not be lost,” he said.

“And who better to immortalise it than Daeron, Menegroth’s finest musician? Daeron, who wasn’t there to see it. Whose account are you using instead?”

Again, Daeron refused to state what they both knew already.

“Give me another song, then,” Daeron said. “If you don’t want me to use it, you have to give me something else.”

“I have nothing else!” Maglor snarled. “You have taken it all.”

“That’s not true,” Daeron said. “You have this.”

He played a few bars, sweeping and desolate, watching Maglor all the while.

“That’s just a fragment,” Maglor said. “I don’t know how to continue it.”

“No?” Daeron said, playing a different passage with the same sweeping quality. “Is this not a part of it too? And this -” he hummed the beginning of another tune.

“I cannot fit them together,” Maglor said.

“No, perhaps not yet. But when you do, it will be your finest work. And the only thing I can do to help you now is leave you alone to finish it.”

Daeron was standing now, and gathering his few possessions.

“I can’t finish it without you,” Maglor said. “I can hear parts of it in my mind, but without your hands to give it life, it is nothing.”

“Ten summers hence, I will find you again,” Daeron said.

“Stay. Please,” Maglor said. “I will tell you everything I have held from you, and I will hold my tongue if you use it for yourself. I will surrender the worst of me. Just stay here and love me and -”

Daeron held up a hand to stop him.

“I did tell you what I wanted from the very beginning. To leave you alone, until you were ready to join me and give up everything that had gone before. That is still my intent,” Daeron said, “hard though it may be. We, whatever we may feel ourselves, matters less than what we are. What we carry within us. The treasures of a people, Makalaurë, the kind that can’t be locked away or buried beneath the earth. I have dallied here too long because I enjoyed your company too much.”

He stepped closer and touched Maglor’s cheek, lightly.

“You have more of the world in you, my world, Ennor, than the rest of your people. You see the beauty in it. When we meet again, I will play your music for you again. But today I must take it away with me.”

“And still you think I will give you my song, my last song, when it is written?”

“You will,” Daeron said. “There is none other who can play it like it’s meant to be heard. You have only yourself to blame for that.”

“Daeron the faithless,” Maglor spat.

“Then you can hardly be surprised that I am leaving,” Daeron said.

“You will be diminished without me,” Maglor said. “I am your equal, the only one left who's a match for you - ”

“I have no equal,” Daeron said. “You said that yourself.”

He fastened his cloak and looked for a moment as if he were about to reach out again, but something closed behind his eyes and he turned away.

“Farewell, kinslayer.”

The woods swallowed him up without a sound.

The sea called to Maglor with a strength he had not felt since a bygone age. He wandered along cliff tops in stormy weather, waiting for a stray gust to blow him off the edge into the crashing deep. He stopped eating, letting the stores Daeron had left for him rot in his pack, until at last the stench became too much and he had to throw them away. He gathered wood for fires he couldn’t light, the movement breaking his hands open again and lodging splinters deep in the cracks.

“I will die just to spite you,” he whispered, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it, and the song wouldn’t leave him alone. Now that he had nothing else, it slithered around his useless fingers and caught in his hair and tickled at his throat.

Daeron had been right, damn him. Now that everything else he knew, all his verses and rhythms and melodies were safe, somewhere, with Daeron, he could devote himself entirely to this new song.

Either that, or he knew it was the only thing that could bring Daeron back again.

Maglor watched the tides come and go, and dreamed of music.