#i need to do ballet. i need to write 4 chapters at once.

[goatmilksoda]

Doomscrolling but my blog has been so thoughtfully curated with positivity that I just instead feel overwhelming Emotion™️ from also being tired and having a busy day.

It's not positive. Its not negative. It's not particularly energetic. But I need to do a push up and write 700 words right now or I'll die but I also cant.

[thisisourlovestory]

Safe and Sound

Finnick Odair x reader soulmate AU

Summary: you are a victor from district 4. The Quarter Quell has just been announced. How will you cope with the turn of events coming your way.

Word count- 2.8k

Notes: Merry Christmas! Thank you to everyone who’s read this so far and to my beta reader who has hyped me up about this whole thing. I’m going to try and update once a week but occasionally it may take a bit longer or less depending on how much I work on it since I am writing it as I go. Hope you enjoy! Also who here knows how to make the masterlist thingymajobs? Because I don't and I want to make one

Chapter 2

A scream shattered the silence and my hand was up in the air before I even knew what I was doing as I uttered those four dreaded words.

“I volunteer as tribute!”

The second I said them Lysander was practically jumping in delight, a grin spread across his face as wide as can be as he proclaimed loudly.

“I believe we have a volunteer.” I stepped forward, ignoring the shocked looks Annie and Mags were throwing my way. Lysander babbled on and on for a few minutes about ‘how exciting for a victor to volunteer’, how ‘he was sure none of the other districts would have tributes’. I felt like throwing up, looking out into a sea of faces, most of them open mouthed, a few simply confused as if wondering who the hell I even was. I saw a couple of people who I used to know, refusing to meet my eyes. My ballet shoes hung by my side, a heavy weight pulling down, anchoring me to reality as my mind drifted.

I turned to Lysander and gave him a pathetic attempt at a smile, lips tilting upwards slightly, a flash of white teeth for a second. “Please,” he said, “Shake hands.”

I didn't realise what he said until Finnick stepped forward and held out his hand to me. My eyebrows furrowed and I bit my lip, twisting the sleeves of my cardigan again, holding out my other arm to hold his hand loosely before pulling it back quickly as I felt my mark burn slightly. He looked confused for a moment before his expression cleared and he put on a charming smile, waving to the crowd. As for me, I stood there silently, chewing on my lip worriedly, wondering why I volunteered, why I didn't even hesitate.

“Your tributes for the 75th annual Hunger Games!” Lysander yelled to the crowd over their obedient clapping as peacekeepers pointed guns at them, threatening to shoot. All of a sudden we were herded off stage and I was dragged to the same room I had been in all those years ago, the paint still peeling, a splintered chair and table on dusty stone. I took a few steps in and collapsed on the floor, chest heaving as I tried to take in deep breaths. I curled my hands into fists, nails cutting into the soft skin of my hands, a few tears dripping down my face but I heard heavy footsteps down the corridor and quickly composed myself, brushing away the tears and standing up, elegantly sitting down in the chair as the door opened. Mags walked in, escorted by a guard who muttered.

“Five minutes.” And closed the door behind him. Mags stared at me for a second before walking over and placing a hand on my shoulder. I looked up at her and she mouthed one word. Why?

I smiled slightly as I answered.

“She doesn't deserve to die. She needs to live and I'll do everything I can to get Finnick out and back to her.” Mags looked confused so I rolled up my sleeve and showed her my wrist. “He's my soulmate,” she blinked quickly and I continued,”And he doesn't love me but he loves her and they deserve to live.” She looked angry and somehow managed to croak out a few words.

“What about you?” I patted her hand, standing up and looking out the window.

“I don't matter, I just want him to be safe and sound. I want him to be happy, even if it's not with me.” She looked at me pityingly, brown eyes filled with emotion as she folded me into her arms; I broke down, sobbing silently into her shoulder, tears soaking the fabric. “I just can't let him die, not if I can do something about it.” I managed to get out between hiccuping sobs and sniffles. She comforted me gently, stroking my hair with wrinkled hands and all too soon it was time for her to go.

The door swung open and Mags scurried out before they could drag her away, the last thing I saw of her was her long grey hair before another person walked in and the door was slammed shut behind them. Annie stood in front of me. Long auburn hair tangled, sea green eyes gazing at me curiously. She took in my puffy eyes and red face streaked with tears saying nothing as she kneeled down and took my hands in hers.

“Why did you do that?” She asked quietly, not looking me in the eye, “Why would you give up your life?”

“We aren't so dissimilar you and I.” I spoke, removing my hands from hers and laying them on my knees. “The games,” my voice cracked,”The games left us both broken beyond belief. The difference between us is that you had someone there to build you back up after you came out. I didn't. Or I did, but they didn't care enough to stay. We've both been dropped and shattered on impact but you've been fixed, mostly, the cracks are still there and with the right push it'll all come crashing down. But me, I've got nobody and nothing left, everyone left me to crumble to pieces as if I would just be fine, but I'm not, I'm just a pile of broken glass waiting for someone to finally care and put me back together. So I volunteered. Because you have everything to lose; I’ve got nothing left.” Annie said nothing, just watched me carefully,

“I'll get Finnick out for you,” I whispered,”You don't have to worry about him. I promise.” The door opened and she was led out, throwing a last glance over her shoulder at me, a strange look in her eyes as if she knew something I didn’t.

I was left alone to my thoughts again. Wrapping the ribbons of my shoes around my hands repetitively. Wondering what it would be like this time around. Would I even have a chance at survival? I dismissed that one immediately, with victors like the ones from districts 1 and 2, plus Katniss and Peeta from last year, I wasn't getting out alive. I was good but not that good. I could throw knives perfectly, fight in hand to hand combat and tie complex knots with lengths of rope, I was even half decent at using a bow and arrow. But compared to others I was weak.

The door creaked open again but this time no one entered except some peacekeepers in their white uniforms and masks, they dragged me out, gloved hands twisting my skin. I shook my arms out of their hold and glared at them, they let me loose and marched me along the corridor to the exit where a car would be waiting. They opened the side door and pushed me in. My head knocked against the metal and I hissed in annoyance but said nothing. The car pulled away from the justice building and I stared out at it for the last time, the carved marble flawless and perfect but oh so cold. My eyes trailed over the shapes of people outside, cheering my name; screaming for the games to stop. They hadn't even known who I was before, why did they care now? Why did they care just as I was sent off to my death once again? Why did they care when all they had ever done was pretend I didn't exist?

How could they stand there and scream my name, their beloved victor, when they had never before known me? How dare they pretend to care about me. How dare they think I wanted this. How dare they congratulate me on my actions when the choice didn't even exist to begin with. In those moments I was filled with nothing but disgust for the people of my district. We were supposed to be united against the Capitol yet here they were excited for me to go back in. Granted there was the idea that if they didn't then they would be made an example of by peacekeepers for not complying with orders. But behind every forced action there is a planted seed that was simply nurtured to form the fully fledged evil.

I sighed, propping my head up on my hand as we entered the station, reporters from the Capitol waiting for the chance to get a shot of Finnick or I. We jolted to a stop and Finnick stepped calmly out of the car in front, waving to people, giving them his charming smile, playing up to his persona as the Capitol darling. I took a deep breath as he disappeared from sight, people screaming for one last look at him, and pushed down the handle to open the door. I stepped out and was immediately assaulted by loud noises, too loud. They ripped through my skull and I flinched while I walked along the pathway that was cleared for me. They screamed my name and they wouldn't stop, it echoed in my head, their voices like nails as they raked down the walls I had built up in my mind to block out the bad and keep the good close. The peacekeepers surrounded my shaking form, tiny compared to the crowds gathered; herded me to the platform where the train was waiting. Sleek and silver, like a bullet, and just as fast as one.

I stumbled over the gap where the platform ended and the train doors opened, allowing me to topple to the floor in a graceless heap. I groaned and sat up, pressing a hand to the side of my head and frowning in annoyance as I felt the slightest of bruises there. My feet slipped out of my sandals so I picked them up in one hand alongside my pointe shoes and pushed myself to a standing position leaning on the wall of the train. I took a minute to calm myself, mentally preparing for the interesting conversation that was sure to come when I walked into the next compartment. I dropped my head forwards and wiped a hand over my face before sighing and reaching out to the handle, pushing it down.

I stepped in and three sets of eyes locked on me, standing awkwardly in the doorway.

“Hi.” I cleared my throat and they resumed their conversation. I relaxed in relief and dropped into a chair at the table, immediately reaching out for a plate. I filled it with all kinds of foods, meat, pasta, vegetables and more. A luxury I couldn't bring myself to afford with the money I had won, food I tended to steer clear of because in my mind it belonged to the Capitol and eating it made me one of them. But I figured I was going to die soon so I might as well indulge while I could. I speared a piece of fish and potato and it was halfway to my mouth when I noticed eyes on me again. Lysander was giving me a look of wonder as he leaned forwards onto his hands.

“So Y/N, tell me why did you volunteer? We need to know so we can spin this story to give you the best chance of winning that we can you see.” He smiled and bit into a leg of chicken, tearing the meat away with his teeth. My mind blanked, I couldn't exactly tell him the real reason I volunteered, that would not go down well with the current company, I glanced over to Finnick and my eyes widened as our eyes connected for a split second before I snapped my gaze back to my plate. I shrugged my shoulders and shoved the food in my mouth. Lysander’s mouth twisted into a scowl at my disregard for him and Mags, seated next to him, smiled down at her plate.

I swallowed my food and sipped on water in a glass next to me before I answered his question

“I didn't want her to die.” He spluttered in delight.

“I can work with that. A story of two best friends, one worried for the other's safety so she volunteers to save her from certain death.” I shook my head at his words.

“No. We aren't friends. I just didn't think she deserved to die and that's the only story you're going to tell.”

“But, but, but,” Lysander stammered under my glare.

“But nothing,” I said calmly, “There is no story, I volunteered because I felt sorry for her, nothing more nothing less. Now if you'll excuse me,” I shoved the chair back and stood up, “I'm going to my room and I don't want to see you, until morning.” With that I stormed out of the compartment, slamming the door shut behind me, rattling the ornaments and pictures hanging on the walls. My footsteps were heavy as I almost ran along the corridor, I finally reached the door I wanted and stared at it, remembering how seven years ago I had stood in the exact same spot.

My thoughts were pretty different about being in the Hunger Games now. Back then I had had no choice so it was just an unfortunate circumstance I found myself in with the added threat of death. Now it was more of an actual game and I suppose that was the point, throw previous victors into an arena together, seasoned killers, guaranteed chaos would ensue. They'd have the perfect show, death upon death that would look interesting and be absolutely brutal because the executioners would all know what they were doing. It would be the most viewed year of the games in history. They’d be making hunters into performers, fighting to stay alive for the cameras. Doing anything to gain sponsors. It wouldn’t surprise me if some people went too far. But most of all, we’d be angry. Angry that we had to go back, they’d promised we were done and now it seemed they lied.

I pushed the door open and stepped into the room. It smelled of fresh peaches and vanilla, the white bedsheet pulled tightly across the mattress, light green comforter spread across the duvet. I gently closed the door behind me and threw my sandals on the floor. I leapt onto the bed, sinking into the mountain of pillows piled up near the headboard. A headboard engraved with swirls of waves and shells to represent district 4, I looked closer and on every wave was a set of initials and a date, the initials of every other district 4 tribute in the history of the games and the date they were reaped. A tradition upheld by every new victim. I traced over my initials on one of the waves and picked up the knife I had taken a few minutes ago, I picked a new wave and ripped into it, my initials carved as deeply as possible. A message that I was not going easy. I would go but I would fight every step of the way.

I chucked the knife down and admired my handiwork. I was no artist but if I were this would be my best piece. Rolling over I stood up and made my way to the wardrobe. Opening it I found an assortment of clothes and night dresses. I picked out a white one that fell loosely to my knees and pulled my pointe shoes on, tying the ribbons around my ankles and standing up. Humming a song, I rose onto my toes, hands lifting above my head as I twirled around, the skirt floating around me. I kicked one leg into the air, leaning to the other side and bringing my arms close to my body, curving them in. I danced for what seemed like hours, lost in a world of my own as I spun around in circles, sweeping my arms above my head and out in front of me. Finally growing dizzy I stopped, one foot turned out in front of me, the other pointed behind me as I let my arms drop slowly to my side, my humming stopped and I opened my eyes. Remembering the reason I was here, to help Finnick. All urge to dance left me as I quietly undid the knotted ribbons, pulling the shoes off and staring at my feet, blistered and bruised. Plasters taped on them to stop the cuts being infected. I climbed into the bed, pulling the sheets over my body, shivering as the cold fabric touched my skin and then burrowing further into the warmth it provided. I yanked the comforter closer. Rubbing my cheek on the fluffy material, hand reaching out to turn off the lights, switch just in reach making a sharp clicking sound as I flipped it. My eyes started to drift closed in the darkness, my limbs tired from the exhausting day and I fell into dark oblivion.

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[dragonfly0808]

Oops, my hand Slipped

So all of a sudden I was struck with a need to write some EAH stuff and wrote 2 chapters. The 1st chapter was exclusively Apple and Raven and this would be the 2nd chapter about some of the other characters.

I promise I am working on A Withering Pretense this was just something that kinda… happened

Also I am totally doing an EAH rewrite once I’m done with my Winx Club rewrite (so probably in about a year)

Madeline Hatter was glad to be rooming with Kitty. They lived together in her dad’s house, so she already knew her habits and they knew when to leave the other alone and when they needed company.

Not to mention they both still had nightmares of their escape from Wonderland, so it helped to sleep in the same room.

But she was sad for Raven. She knew how lonely she was and how she felt like the world hated her.

But there was no need to worry, for Maddie knew just what to do. She’d make sure to either get Raven out of her room or be there with her at 4 for tea time and she would also-

“Will you shut up?” Kitty exclaimed to the roof, “Some of us are trying to take a cat nap!” She yelled at… me?

“Hey, don’t be rude to the narrator.”

“Well sorry if I don’t want to listen to him talk about Raven a whole bunch.” Kitty said, she carefully let her pigtails down as she went to sit next to Maddie on her bed, “I get that she’s your best friend but… I just don’t feel like hearing about her.”

Maddie hesitated, “You know what happened to Wonderland isn’t her fault.”

“I know that. And I don’t blame her but… just because I don’t blame her for it doesn’t mean I have to be friends with her.”

Maddie nodded, leaning her head on Kitty’s shoulder, “Alright, I’ll try not to think about Raven when the Narrator’s around.”

Kitty bumped her head against Maddie’s in a show of affection, “Thanks. Now, you have to help me set up my desk.”

Maddie smiled and nodded.

The Narrator decided to take his leave.

***

Duchess Swan had unpacked everything the day of the check in so on her second day at Ever After (two days before classes began) she was completely free.

Lizzie had only unpacked one box thus far. Duchess still wasn’t sure about how she felt with Lizzie as her roommate.

But at least she wasn’t paired with a princess who did nothing but brag about her Happy Ending all the time.

Duchess grabbed her new ballet slipers and the tools she needed to break them down and set off without a word to Lizzie, who didn’t acknowledge her either.

She made her way to the kitchens where she got a bag of bagels and some coffee from one of the chefs. She’d given the chef’s daughter ballet classes for a while so she always got a few extra treats.

After getting the bagels and coffee, she made her way outside, walking straight to the woods.

She only walked a few feet before hearing the distant sound of music, which she followed to the lake.

Sparrow was playing by the lake, he’d spread out a picnic blanket and was jamming, playing a simple melody instead of his usual heavier rock songs.

“Hey.” She said as she plopped down at his side, “I brought bagels and coffee.” She said in a disintrested tone.

“Score.” Sparrow said as he grabbed one of the coffees and took a sip, immediatly gagged, “Nope, that one’s definetely yours. I don’t understand how you can drink your coffee with that much sugar.”

“And I don’t understand how you can drink it black.” She said as she exchanged the coffees.

He spread his bagel with cream cheese and she used mermelade. Duchess took a bite as she pulled out her shoes.

Sparrow frowned as he put his guitar to the side, “Are those slippers new?”

Duchess couldn’t help a small smile, “Yes. A gift in advance for Legacy Day.”

“Mmm.” He hummed appreciatly as she pulled out her tools, “By the way, you’ll never guess who I got roomed with.”

“Can’t be any weirder than who I got roomed with.”

“Wanna bet?”

Duchess rolled her eyes, “I got paired up with Lizzie Hearts. She seems… okay so far but… I’m slightly concerned.”

Sparrow smirked, “I got paired with none other than Daring Charming.”

Duchess almost cut herself accidentally.

So maybe she had a little crush on Daring Charming and maybe Sparrow had found out.

Could she be blamed though?

Daring Charming seemed to be the embodiment of the perfect prince.

The embodiment of a Happily Ever After.

She tried her best to act uninterested, “And? Is he shaping up to be a bad roommate?”

Sparrow considered the question for a moment, “He’s more quiet than I expected him to be… but I mean it’s been less than a day so who knows. I thought he’d be more annoying.”

“He might be thinking the same thing about you.”

He leaned forwards to grab some water from the lake, tossing it at her.

“Hey! Be careful with the tutu!”

He smirked, “Please, as if you don’t dance on the lake.”

“I dance on top of the lake not in it you dumbass!”

She finished her breakfast and got up, practicing a ballet dance while Sparrow worked on a song.

She’d been on the verge of a breakdown the previous day. And as much as she might’ve complained, Sparrow’s joking helped her a bit.

Legacy Day was approaching. For many that meant a confirmation of their Happily Ever Afters or a promise to do something cruel and unforgivable.

But for Duchess… she would be signing away her humanity. Her chance at an actual life. She would pretty much be pledging to lay down her life in order to play her role in the Swan Lake.

It was something she was… trying not to be bitter about. But it was hard.

She only hoped Lizzie wouldn’t say anything whenever she cried herself to sleep over her destiny.

***

Cerise slowly let out a breath as she closed her dorm door behind her.

She couldn’t believe her luck.

Of course she’d been roomed with Cedar Wood, who was cursed to always tell the truth.

She would have to be even more careful than she already was. But she was already so tired…

She needed to run. But, right as she started making her way down the hall, her dorm room door opened again and Cedar poked her head out, “Hey uh… are you going to the woods?”

Cerise sighed on the inside, “Yeah.”

Cedar fidgeted with her skirt, “Do you uh… do you mind if I join you?”

“Nah it’s fine.”

“Really? Because… it kinda sounds like you do mind.” She said nervously.

“I’m used to going on my own but, it’s fine if you wanna come along.”

Cedar considered her answer for a moment before nodding and joining her, she was carrying a notebook.

She noticed Cedar starring and cleared her throat, Cerise wondered for a moment if she actually needed to clear her throat or if it just helped her feel more human, “Um, I planted a few branches before summer, I wanna see how they progressed since I planted some in magic soil and others in normal soil.”

Cerise nodded along, unsure of what to say.

As they made their way out of the school and entered the woods, Cedar spoke again, “I’m sorry uh… do you not like me? I just feel like… you don’t really like me.”

Cerise pulled her hood closer to her face, “Um… it’s not that I don’t like you it’s just that… I’m used to being alone. I don’t exactly talk to a lot of people so I’m not really the best at holding conversations.”

“Oh… it’s just that last semester my roommate didn’t really like me because of my curse. She thought I’d rat out every little thing I did which… I mean I did spill one of her secrets but it wasn’t on purpose I can’t… I can’t really control it.”

Cerise almost snorted. She knew a thing or two about not being in control.

“I know it’s not really your fault. I promise it’s not really about you specifically, I’m just not used to people trying to talk to me or hang out. That’s all really.”

Cedar nodded again, “Alright.”

Cerise considered her next words carefully, for they could land her in an awkward situation quickly.

“Do you want to go to the library after we get a look at your plants? I want to get a headstart on one or two of the classes.”

Cedar seemed more surprised than anything, “Yeah! That sounds nice.”

Cerise managed a small smile at the obvious excitment Cedar was trying to hide.

Maybe having Cedar as a roommate wouldn’t be so bad.

***

Briar still wasn’t sure why exactly Apple had insisted on rooming with Raven. But there was nothing to be done about it now.

She played with the black silk leftover from Raven’s decorations, trying to determine where to put it.

She decided she would get some mesh hot pink fabric to make a canopy along with the black silk. She tossed the silk on the bed and went to sit on her desk, looking at the notes she’d been taking of Chemistry, her favorite subject.

She wasn’t sure how this year would go, but she knew she wanted to live it to the fullest. How could she not want to take advantage of every moment when her destiny was now only a few years away?

She tried to focus on her notes, but couldn’t.

Briar shut the book and got up to go get Apple. She had to do something… anything really.

She found that these days she could barely stand being still for too long.

***

Daring frowned, “A little more to the left.”

Dexter, who was trying to hand a framed drawing of a dragon groaned and rolled his eyes, “Dude, you just told me to move it to the right!”

“It’s not my fault you moved it too far!”

“I’m leaving it here.”

“No it’s not right yet.”

“Daring I swear to-”

“Right there! Do not move.”

Daring rushed forwards, climbing on the chair next to Dexter and quickly hammering a nail into the wall to hang the drawing.

Dexter shook out his arms with a wince and Daring chuckled, ruffling his hair, “Don’t be dramatic. You didn’t hold it for that long.”

They fell into silence for a moment.

Dexter frowned, “What are we going to do about Darling?”

Daring glanced at the framed picture he had with his siblings on his desk, “There’s not much we can do. You know that mom and dad won’t let her come back to Ever After until she’s… ‘fixed’.” He practically spit out the last word.

Yeah, his sister wasn’t a classical damsel in distress, but she still behaved like one most of the time. She didn’t deserve to be shipped off to a boarding school for ‘troubled princesses’… again.

“I mean… we should at least be allowed to write or hext her. It drives me crazy not even knowing that she’s okay.” Dexter said as he collapsed on Daring’s bed.

Daring was slow to join him, “Look for now we should just… help Darling along. Play our roles so that our parents won’t be mad and will go a bit easier on her.”

Dexter snorted without humor, “Easy for you to say. You’re a perfect prince. Not to mention you actually know what your role is.”

Daring wrapped an arm around Dexter, gently pulling him closer, “Hey, you have a destiny and you’ll find out what it is soon. And you are also a great prince.”

“Yeah right.”

“Dex-”

“Don’t Daring.” Dexter stood up, running a hand through his hair with a sigh, “I just… I’ll try to figure out if I can get a message through to Darling.”

Daring watched his brother walk out of the room.

He said nothing as he closed his eyes, thinking about his classes and everything his father had told him he wanted him to do.

It would be a long year, especially without Darling.

***

As it turned out, rooming with Briar had it’s advantages.

Briar was probably the heaviest sleeper in all of Ever After High, which made sense.

And it made it that much easier for Ashlynn to sneak out of the room.

Her heart slammed against her ribcage.

She’d never done anything like this. The closest thing she’d ever come to sneaking away was only telling one guard where she was going instead of her whole team.

But she wasn’t going to back down.

She made her way down the hallways and out the school, crossing the courtyard and reaching the woods.

She’d barely crossed the first line of trees when she almost jumped out of her skin when a pale golden light appeared out of nowhere.

The golden light was Hunter holding a small lantern, standing a few feet away.

He seemed surprised, like he hadn’t meant to come. Like he was shocked that he’d agreed to meet her.

“Hey.” She said in a quiet tone.

“Hey Ash… did you have any problems sneaking out?”

“No… Briar is a pretty heavy sleeper, which you know, makes sense… did you have any problems?”

“No.”

They fell into silence for a moment.

When Ashlynn went to get closer, Hunter stepped back.

“Ash we… this is wrong. We… we can’t.”

Ashlynn’s heart dropped, “Then why did you come here?”

Hunter laughed humorlessly, “I don’t know. Maybe I didn’t want you waiting out here for me to show up I… we’re signing this year Ash.”

“I know that. But I just…” she hated the fact that there were already tears gathering in her eyes, “I don’t wanna let go of you just yet.”

Hunter rushed forwards then, wrapping his arms around her. She cried against his chest, holding on tightly.

“I don’t want to let you go either.” He whispered against her hair, “But you know that we can’t… we’re not even in the same story, let alone destined for each other. Who knows if we’ll even see each other again once we’re done with Ever After High.”

Ashlynn slowly pulled away, wipping away her tears, “I know but… shouldn’t we enjoy… this… while we still can?”

“Don’t you think it’ll hurt more in the long run?”

Ashlynn took his hand, gently kissing his knuckles, “I’d rather have the painful memories than the regret.”

He pulled her close again, wrapping an arm around her waist and kissing her.

She sighed into the kiss, cupping his face, tasting salt from her own tears.

Ashlynn knew it was probably a mistake, that they would eventually be pulled apart by their respective destinies.

But she’d spent her entire life doing all she could to be perfect.

She was allowed to have this one thing… at least for now.

***

Dexter left his brother’s room frustrated.

The triplets had always been close, even with their parents constantly comparing them and trying to keep them apart due to their different destinies.

It was awful being at Ever After without his sister.

He was always compared to both his siblings, he was the boring sibling, the least attractive one, the one without a destiny. But at least with Darling it didn’t bother him as much.

It wasn’t Daring’s fault that he was a good prince and people took that to make Dexter feel bad. But it still would’ve been nice to be able to escape most of that with Darling.

He looked down at his MirrorPad.

He was going to figure out a way to get a message through to his sister.

***

Lizzie Hearts was careful as she opened the last box she had to unpack.

In the box were the only things she had left of Wonderland, which she’d carefully collected over the years from both survivors and collectors.

She placed the objects on her desk and bookshelf with care.

She glanced at Duchess’ side of the room, she was definetely tidier than Lizzie was.

The last thing she pulled from the box was a framed picture of her and her friends. Before Wonderland had fallen.

Maddie, Kitty, Bunny, Alistair and Lizzie herself, laughing in the middle of a croquet tournament, Alistair trying to balance a flamingo on his shoulder for no reason other than to cheer himself and Bunny up since they were losing.

How she missed them.

She took a deep breath as she tried her best to organize her desk, trying not to think about spending yet another year separated from her Kingdom.

Studying hard to be a good queen when she didn’t even know if her Kingdom was just a barren wasteland. Trying her best to embody her mother and act as angrily as she could despite not knowing if her story would ever come to pass. If Bunny and Alistair had survived the fall of Wonderland.

Another year trying to act like she was unaffected by all of that.

Because queens weren’t supposed to wake up screaming from nightmares.

And they certainly didn’t have doubts about their destinies.

What do ya think?

[albino-whumpee]

15 questions, 15 mutuals

thank you for the tag! @soheavyaburden

1. Are you named for anyone?: Yes and no. My aunt couldn´t have children so my mother named me after her expecting people would call me her name. But I was given my first name (because we do double names in my familiy) and nobody calls me my second, which is hers. Welp. 

2. When was the last time you cried?: Yesterday. TLoU chapter really hit into my sensitive ass. I hate one episode love stories, but I will allow it because it was cute. 

3. Do you have kids?: No. I don´t plan to and I will lie to get a doc to tie my tubes up if I need to. I once thought I wanted to adopt, but knowing my life plans, having a child is plain stupid.

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?: Haha, have I ever not used sarcasm?

5. What’s the first thing you notice about people?: Size, face, smell, accent and feet position. Silly little trick, but if they´re not pointing their feet at you, they´re not interested in the conversation.   

6. What’s your eye color?: Brown. 

7. Scary movies or happy endings?: hmm, depends. It´s been a while since I watched a scary movie that actually scared me and didn´t make me laugh, but when I do find one that´s scary, I like it to end in what seems a better situation than the absolute worst. Gives me some adrenaline, yk? Happy endings are ok if done well. But alas, a happy ending to me heavily depends on the movie.  

8. Any special talents?: Blind writing. That was the only good class I had in middle school. Honestly that´s it, xD I don´t consider myself particularly talented in academic areas or physical ones. Sure I won some tournments, but man it was so long ago. 

9. Where were you born?: Mexico.

10. What are your hobbies?: Videogames and drawing. Also reading even if it´s hard this days. 

11. Have you any pets?: Valkyria and Sansa. They´re my babies. Black cats with weird personalities. They´re both adopted from the same adoption saturday ...market? ig? Anyways, I picked Valkyria when she was so thin she was barely more than bones. I thought she would die if I´m honest with you. She refused to eat if I didn´t shake her plate a bit, but she was playful, so we knew she was just starving. I was told she was wrapped in tape and dumped at the shelter and I took her because how dare call yourself a shelter and leave a cat in that state? 

Sansa came from another shelter, she was a baby from a foster mama that didn´t make it. She has her tail curled like a chamaleon at the tip, probably from some stupid asshole closing the kennel´s door on it and breaking it. No, she doesn´t need to have it amputated, she doesn´t feel pain and doesn´t interfere with her daily life.  

12. What sports do you play/have played?: A lot. I won a few athletism tournments that took me to the nationals (we lost), also won a few international trophies doing karate. I practiced figure skating and ballet for a bit and due my super elasticity, I could have been a good gymnast, but heh, no money.

I was at a handball tournment, but I never knew what I was doing lol. I wanted to play volleyball in middle school/high school but I got my knee injury and it made it too hard. I switched to swimming for a long time until I couldn´t afford it jsjsjs. If I had the chance, I would try archery. 

13. How tall are you?: 1.73 m. more less 5 ft 7. Wish I was taller ;v;

14. Favorite subject in school?: English. It was so easy sjsjjs. Or psychology. My school´s system allowed people being exempted from doing finals if your notes were high enough, so I strived to just do 1 or less exams and I almost made it. I never had to do math finals in high school, but I actually exempted psychology earlier than everyone because I did double the lab exercises. 

15. Dream job?: Concept artist. By now I know Im not made for it nor I can actually be one, but well. I can dream. 

tagging: @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @sideblogformindtrash @milk-carton-whump @nightfrostshadow @louptheloop @endless-whump  @turn-the-tables-on-them @eatyourdamnpears @deluxewhump

idk if i have 15 mutuals lmao also no pressure!

[jamespotterthefirst]

Your Biggest Fan 4/? (Ethan x F!MC)

Chapter 4: Medical Knowledge

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende) Word count: 1 K Warning: Language Series: Your Biggest Fan Series Premise: AU: When he is forced to promote his new book on social media, an insolent stranger points out a mistake in his research.   Chapter Premise: He puts her medical knowledge to the test.

Author’s Note: Thank you everyone for your love and support for the last three chapters! You’re the reason I keep writing!

“I’m taking lunch,” Ethan says as he passes the nurses’ station. 

Marlene glances up from the screen, doing a poor job at disguising her slight surprise. Ethan’s tone clearly states, “No one is to interrupt me unless it’s an emergency.”

In the nurse’s defense, Ethan rarely takes his full hour at once. He typically spends fifteen minutes eating whatever meal he managed to pack in blissful silence. The rest of his meal time is used for studying patient files or updating charts. On his most grueling days, he walks to his favorite coffee shop, book in hand, ready to disconnect for a good half hour. 

Today, Ethan stares at his phone screen as a stubborn smile tries to break through his expression. Only when he is alone in his office does he allow it to win out, spreading into a smirk as he reads her latest message.

Ethan reads the three words more than once, ignoring the slight spike in his pulse.

Her reply comes in immediately. It clearly indicates that she’s attentively glued to her screen just like he is. The thought does little to dissuade the infuriating diving of his stomach.

His primal mind imagines other scenarios in which he could use that nickname. Annoyed at the intrusive thought, he reminds himself he doesn’t even know who she is, not really. He doesn’t know where she goes to school, except that she could possibly reside near Revere beach. And most disappointing of all, he doesn’t even know her first name.

This time, there’s a long pause before her reply. A series of dots appears on the screen and he assumes it signals her typing. 

They stop. 

They restart.

Internally, he muses how even in this format, it is easy to tell when someone is at a loss for words. Intriguing as it might be, it also perplexes him. What is it about the simple question that is stumping her?

His attention is commanded by her incoming reply: 

She is clearly evading the question with humor and sarcasm. Ethan persists:

Ethan sets the phone down briefly, taking a forkful of the pasta he packed for lunch. 

Miss Allende, medical student in the Boston area, is cleverer than he gave her credit for. He had to admire the way she evaded the topic of her first name. If anything, her ambiguity only adds to the air of mystery already shrouding her.

And there is nothing Ethan loves more than a mystery.

He picks up the phone again and begins:

Ethan is almost impressed, but he picked an easy question to begin with. 

What is relatively impressive is the speed with which she answered. No way in hell did she Google that. Not to mention, the blasted cartoon thing with the sunglasses she added. That is, no doubt, her coy little way of showing her confidence.

Now he's impressed. 

And slightly annoyed by the yawning addition.

A different emotion, one much more concerning than irritation, makes itself known. 

Ethan ignores it.

They continue like that for hours, Ethan sending complicated medical questions that she easily answers to his satisfaction. It's like an intricate dance—his moves matched gracefully by hers. It reminds him of Cecchetti ballet—all parts moving to create beautiful lines. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” a voice says at one point in the hallway. 

It’s Ines Delarosa, a bubbly intern under his supervision.

Ethan looks up from his phone and only belatedly realizes that he had been smiling. Ines catches the full effect and though a bit startled by the alien expression on his face, matches it with a sunny smile of her own. 

Annoyed at himself for the slipup, he schools his features. 

“Is there something you needed, Dr. Delarosa?”

“The labs came back for Mrs. Notni. Your suspicion was correct—Cervical nucleic acid amplification assay.”

“Thank you.”

Not bad, Allende, he thinks to himself. Though he had been sure of the diagnosis before asking her, it was impressive that someone could match his prediction. 

His phone announces her incoming reply and Ethan quickens his step toward his office. Once alone, he reads her message. 

And reads it again, confused.

To his utter shock, Ethan laughs. It’s a deep, hearty sound that almost sounds foreign to his own ears. He is convinced if someone outside his door heard it, they’d assume he had company. 

He’s about to reply, when a new notification overtakes his screen.

An incoming call.

The number is unregistered on his phone but deep down, he knows it can only be one person. Who else would call him insistently three times in a row? The incoming text message minutes later only confirms this suspicion. 

“Ethan. Can we please talk…”

Fury eclipses all thoughts of the charming medical student. With more force than necessary, he shuts the phone off and stuffs it in his desk drawer. 

Lilac closes the group chat and opens the conversation with Dr. Ramsey.

There is no reply.

The next morning when there’s still no reply, Lilac begins to worry she said something that offended him. She analyzes the conversation thread for any indication of where he took offense. As she rereads, her eyes catch on the part where he asked her for her first name and her heart quickens on impulse.

The sheer panic the question had brought floods her again. Lilac had been so close to ending the conversation for good. She had even considered deleting her account like she planned to do a year ago. Dramatic as these measures were, anything was preferable to running the risk that her name would be familiar to Dr. Ramsey. Lilac could not endure the crippling shame. Not again.

Blinking out of here reverie, she focuses her attention back on the lengthy conversation. The only thing she could think of what the stupid sweater question. Had she been too impertinent? She only meant to tease him about it but in retrospect, she can see how the comment could be interpreted as rude.

“Easy there,” a voice says, interrupting her descent into madness. “You’ll hurt that pretty brain of yours.”

Lilac’s grip on her hair relaxes as she looks up. Jackie sticks her head into her bedroom, smirking.

“Still sexting Dr. Ramsey?”

“No,” Lilac replies, shutting her phone and sitting up on her bed. “I was trying to study for Dr. Roberts’ exam next week.”

“Good luck with that—”

Lilac’s phone beeps with an alert. It’s almost embarrassing how quickly she picks it up to read, particularly when Jackie’s eyebrows climb so high up her forehead, they almost touch her hairline.

“God, you’re obsessed,” Jackie comments, though not unkindly.

Lilac ignores her in favor of thinking of a clever reply.

“What do I reply?”

“What are you talking about?”

“His sweater.”

Jackie blinks.

“It’s ugly and I made fun of it,” Lilac explains.

“Go into detail about ripping it off of him?”

“You’re no help—”

The door to her bedroom bursts open, flinging Jackie aside.

“Ow. Trinh, what the fuck?”

A breathless, red-face Sienna bursts into the room, too out of breath to speak coherently. “...was at Mem… Memorial hall…” She takes a few moments to catch her breath, clutching her side.

“Sienna, what’s wrong?”

“Look!” she says simply, brandishing a crumpled piece of paper

Stunned, Lilac opens it.

“Oh shit,” Jackie says over her shoulder. “He’s coming here?”

“Two weeks,” Sienna adds, still short of breath. 

Author’s Note: So, in case you didn’t know, I’m not a doctor. That medical trivia was brought to you by the power of Google. I apologize for any medical inaccuracies. Just pretend it was al genius talk lol

Okay, I’m excited for the next few chapters because I have some serious drama planned! 

Thank you so much for reading! 

[dorotharry]

tiny dancer ; chapter three

Pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 4 (coming soon)

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: pain, angst, nightmares, metal limbs?

Summary: After being drafted for the war in 1942, Bucky goes to the ballet a week before having to leave with his best friend Steve. There he becomes infatuated you with the prima ballerina of the show, and he just has to meet you before his last week in Brooklyn is up. He hopes one day you would meet again; little does it know it will be 72 years later.

A/N: Well, hello again, honestly after yesterday I really wanted to write again soon so I could start giving more away. Eep so exciting, thank you again for all your support too!! Please feel free to like, repost and comment any feedback, it’s much appreciated :)) Also lets just ignore that infinity war is a thing for the moment lolz. 

MY MASTERLIST

*gif not mine

“Nice to finally meet you y/n, I’ve been looking for you under Fury’s instruction for a while, my name’s Natasha.”

Natasha. It rang in your ears, there was some familiarity to that name. You kept your face blank, but for some reason it felt like you’d known her in a past life, or perhaps a life you didn’t remember. Though her face gave no indication that she knew either. But a younger version of her face flashed in your mind, only she wasn’t blonde she had bright red hair. You shook yourself from your thoughts, Natasha was a common name, surely you couldn’t know her. Surely.

“Come in,” you responded moving to the side as the women eyed you as she entered. She had to be around a similar age to you. At least in looks, you were at least a century year old in reality. “Did you want something to drink?” You said as you shut the door and gestured to the couch nearby.

The blonde shook her head, taking a seat her gaze still wary. “You’re probably curious to know why I’m here and who I am?”

You nodded as you took a seat on the second couch, it wasn’t often you had visitors.

“Well, I’m sure you’ve heard of the Avengers,” She started.

That’s where you knew her from! She’d swapped her red hair for blonde and suddenly you felt less confused.  

“I’m a part of it, and our director Fury has been sending me on mission after mission looking for you. It’s only now we got a tip that you were living in Madripoor.”

You almost wanted to interrupt and ask who had tipped them off, but you thought better of it. You rose an eyebrow at her comment, giving her an expression that told her to continue.

“Anyway, I’m here because we wanted to bring you back to the compound. You’ve been hidden away from us for a long time. In fact, the only reason we know you exist is because of the HYDRA files I shared in 2014. We hoped you could give us some intel; we think something big is going to happen again, but we aren’t sure if it’s HYDRA or something else.” She looked at you again, a serious expression on her face.

Yours matched hers. “You should know I don’t do that anymore, I don’t work as an assassin,” you began suddenly feeling more vulnerable as the terrible things you had done came back up in your memories.

Natasha cut you off sensing your distress. “We aren’t asking you to, we just need your knowledge. Whilst I know Fury wants you to join us in the long run and start fighting again, we also respect your decision not to if that’s what you want.”

You looked at her sceptically, had she not heard what you had just said? Plus, now your cover in Madripoor was blown, if the Avengers knew where you were then surely it wouldn’t be long until every other government in the world would too. You were sure there were many people who wanted you dead.

As if she had heard your thoughts Natasha spoke up again, “don’t worry, if you turn down helping us, no one but Fury and I know you’re here. Not even Steve.”

You silently gasped, you had forgotten about Steve in these brief moments, he was captain America back then, in fact he was still Captain America. Even if you would be throwing yourself back into the line of fire, maybe it would be worth it to see your old friend again. Would he want to see you though? After everything awful thing, you had done. Your eyes began to well again, but you didn’t want Natasha to see you vulnerable.

“Fine.” You spoke sternly looking at the woman in front of you, “I will help, but only if you promise that you avengers will protect me. There’s a lot of people who want me in chains.”

You could see the hint of a smile on her face as she listened, “Don’t worry y/n, we have ways around that,” she smirked. “I don’t exactly have the cleanest record either.”

You nodded, standing up. You knew now if you were leaving that you could never return to Madripoor. If you chose not to fight with the Avengers after helping them, then at least you were sure they could protect you and finally you could maybe be back home. “Where to then?”

Natasha told you to get anything valuable, some clothes and anything else you felt you needed. Luckily for her, you always kept a duffle bag with everything you needed if you had to leave under you bed, along with the shot gun that had been in your hand this entire time till.

You walked to your room, grabbed the duffle bad and your other favourite weapons in another bag and returned in under a minute. Natasha let out a chuckle, she should have known an assassin was always prepared to flee. Something they all knew, never get too comfortable.

Natasha led you out of your apartment, you close the door behind you both and follow her. It felt strange to be taking from directions from anyone else. Besides HYDRA you had always been the person in charge, choosing what you did without direction. But unless you miraculously knew how you’d be getting back to the Avengers compound this seemed like a time you would have to not be stubborn.

She led you to a jet, gesturing you to get on before she did herself. She walked to the front closing the door and sitting in the pilot’s seat. “Feel free to have a sleep.” She said casual pointing to the bed next to you.

“Thanks,” you mumbled going and lying down. After having no sleep, you wouldn’t complain, and it would save you having to make small talk with Natasha. Plus, usually you didn’t have nightmares in you ever occasionally napped.

Natasha answered a call and began telling someone (who you assumed was Fury) that you were coming back with her, just as your eyes were filled with the darkness of sleep.

1943

You woke up once again your entire body in pain. Although this time it was different, and though you remembered where you were much of your memories were feeling fuzzy. Like someone had attempted to begin removing them.

That couldn’t be possible though, could it?

There was an ache on your face, remembering your last memory before you had been engulfed in darkness again. You were sure there would be marks from whatever machine had done that to you, wincing at the thought of the pain again.

But besides there being the same pains you had felt before, there was something different. You were still restricted by your arms and legs in the same position but now you had a heart monitor attached, the faint beeping being the only noise you could hear in the silent and dark room. This wasn’t a room though, it was a lab you knew that now, and you were a lab rat to the red skull and his scientists. Why would they care if my heart is still beating? You pondered.

Once again you pushed against your restraints in an attempt to get out, the leather digging into your skin causing you to wince due to how in pain your body already was.  But again as you’d thought earlier, there was something different, yes your arms were wincing at the pain from the leather but your legs felt nothing. You moved your toes and felt no sensations. It was as if they were numb. What had HYDRA done?

As if on cue the laboratory door opened, the same scientist from before entering and two soldiers following behind him. The door slammed closed as the soldiers stayed there on each side of the door. Just in case you got out of your restraints again.

The scientist shuffled forward. “How are you feeling y/n? I realised I forgot the other day to introduce myself, I’m Arnim Zola but you can call me Doctor Zola.”

You sneered as his friendly attitude, causing him to frown. “I can’t feel my legs.” You responded in a harsh tone, “Why?”

“Well y/n, I told you that you would become a soldier for the red skull did I not? Now I understand you’re a ballerina but there’s something wrong with this. You see you always want to be perfect, and what makes you not is among many things your feet.” He looked down proudly at your legs.

The words rang in your ear. Your harsh glare to seem mean had softened as your eyes began to water. “Wh-- what have you done?” You began blubbering, your chest fell up and down panic striking your lungs.

“I’ve made you perfect.” He responded without remorse. Instantly he signalled for the men that had been stood by the door this entire time to come over. They did so, grabbing parts of your body so you were even more restricted that you already were as Doctor Zola walked to the foot of the table you were on. Slowly he undid one of the leather straps restricting your leg. You couldn’t even feel him doing it, your senses not working.

He lifted your right leg so that you could gaze down and what you saw only made your panic attack rise. You shrieked at the sight before you. Your eyes welling more and more with tears. You could hear the heart monitor beginning to pick up in noise, as you heart raced.

From halfway down your calf was what looked like a metal leg and foot. It looked exactly like what legs should be, but it wasn’t. It was silver and cold. Down the side of your calf nearing your ankle was a red star.

Tears rolled down your face as he placed your leg back down strapping it back up, then signalling the men holding you down to move away again.

You would have preferred to die then lose your feet. Your mind wandered as your chest rose and fell so quickly that the world around you began to spin. Would you ever be able to dance again?

Doctor Zola was now next to you again, his face held no remorse, in fact all you could see was pride. Even though the world was spinning, and you couldn’t focus on him you knew he didn’t care. “Don’t worry y/n, after today you won’t care about this. You won’t even remember who you are, only who we tell you are. From now on you aren’t y/n anymore. I’ll see you again when you’re ready to comply.”

The same machine from earlier then began to make noises lowering down to your head. Doctor Zola began rambling Russian words you couldn’t understand, the immense pain began again, and you screeched out in pain.

Present day; 2017

Gasping for air you shot up on the bed on the jet. Natasha looked back at you and instantly you dropped your fearful expression into one that was unreadable. No one would know your nightmares, no one could know you had weaknesses.

Luckily her gaze didn’t last long as she spoke up, “We’re here.” She was just glad she wouldn’t have to wake you up. She stood up, you following her lead out of the jet and towards a large white building with a big ‘A’ on the side.

“Jeez subtle.” You scoffed muttering under your breath.

She rolled her eyes at your comment but proceeded to walk into the building. “I’m sure you’ve heard about most of us. So, I feel there’s no need to explain to you, our names.”

She was right there, of course you knew their names, the whole world did. You hummed in response. She led you both to two big double doors pushing them open as you trailed behind. You may have been as assassin but that didn’t mean you were particularly keen on meeting new people, especially all at once. It took a while for people to come to your liking.

She stopped and you stood almost completely behind her looking down at your hands. You never looked at your feet anymore. The noise of all the voices talking amongst each other suddenly stopped and you could feel all of their eyes on you both.

“Everyone this is y/n, she’s going to help us with our current task we’ve been working on.” She spoke sternly but giving them all a small smile.

You raised your head reminding yourself to not be vulnerable and narrowed your eyes as you scanned them all. Of course, most of already knew who you were having read your files when she released them; each giving you sympathetic looks mixed with fear. But not Steve he never had the heart to look at yours and Bucky’s files. If he ever saw you both again, he knew in time you’d tell him.

Finally, you were met with a familiar set on blue eyes, not the ones you had fallen in love with but still ones who once meant so much to you. Now you weren’t so sure.

Steve looked like he was going to die of shock, as he stared at you with such intensity.

He took a step towards you, “y/n?”, his eyes searching for you to show some sort of emotion. But you didn’t, you couldn’t. You took another step back, away from him, the hurt instantly flashing across his face, but as soon as it was there it was gone.

“Hi Steve.”

- 

A/N: ooo we love the tension. how does reader know Natasha?? is it just cause she's an avenger or is it something else? I’ll guess you'll have to see *evil face*

P.S. we’ll see Bucky again soon I promiseeeee

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Taglist: (let me know if you want to be tagged)

@maybe-a-marvel​ @thatredlipped-classic​ @flightsandfantasy​ @7minutes-tomidnight​ @rebelemilu​ @cataves​

[flyingkiki]

A Very Merry Christmas (4/4)

We're ending this little series with a steamy little Christmas celebration for our favorite little birbs. Thank you all for following this series. I had a lot of fun writing this story.

Chapter Three of A Very Merry Christmas is here.

I'll focus on a few other TimRae projects and finishing a few other stories. Would you be interested in an AU?

Here's a steamy Christmas celebration, my loves!

~~~

Christmas dinner was a sin, really. It was the most delicious meal Raven ever had in her lifetime – Alfred truly did wonders in the kitchen. She still silently marveled at the normalcy of the Wayne family celebrating Christmas with a Christmas ham, creamy mashed potatoes, and array of vegetable dishes and sides, and a delirious amount of desserts. It felt strange to watch Bruce Wayne carve into the ham and gingerly place a rather large slice of ham on an annoyed Jason’s plate. The emotions in the room were strange – hurt still bubbled low and raw underneath the surface, but there was a level of protectiveness, forgiveness and care she could feel all at once with the family.

While everyone was still full and dutifully placing dishes into the dishwasher (“Alfie should not wash dishes, you little shits,”), Raven, Cass and Alfred carefully portioned off leftovers into containers for everyone to take home tomorrow.

The house smelled like Christmas as Cass steered her back into the sitting room where the large Christmas tree was bright and warm. If she blinked, Raven thought she was in an old Christmas movie as she watched Dick and Bruce settle a few more gifts under the Christmas tree. Their movements ruffled a few sprigs of the tree and Raven could smell the fresh scent of pine.

“Presents time,” Cass whispered into her ear and pushed her into the plush rug next to Tim, who easily caught Raven by the elbow and helped her settle in next to him. Cass pushed a plate stacked high with desserts into Raven’s hands, “Eat,” before bounding up to the couch to settle next to Bruce.

Raven stared at the gingerbread men and colorful thumbprint cookies warily before shooting Tim wry smile. “This is so much food,” she whispered to him, while watching Tim chuckle and pluck a colorful peanut butter Christmas cookie, his favorite, off her plate. Alfred had taught her how to make them, which thankfully turned out passable by Alfred’s standards. Tim didn’t seem to mind the burnt edges.

“We’re growing superheroes, we need our calories,” Tim said teasingly before quickly devouring the cookie.

Raven leaned into Tim, pressing into his side as they settled comfortably against each other. Curling her legs under her and feeling just a tiny bit drowsy from all the food, she carefully balanced the plate on her lap. “I don’t think I’ll fit into my uniform after all of this,” Raven breathed in resignation and took a careful bite out of a gingerbread Batman.

Tim made a dismissive sound and grabbed another peanut butter cookie while the rest of the family was busy pouring themselves glasses of eggnog and hot cocoa. “I definitely do not mind you out of your uniform,” he whispered discretely into her ear, earning a blush and exasperated eyeroll from Raven.

“Shut up,” she shoved Tim lightly, and she smiled at his amused chuckle as he plucked another cookie from her plate and crawled towards the large coffee table to grab them some hot eggnog. He carefully crawled back to her, half a cookie in his mouth, balancing two glass mugs of eggnog in his hands. Raven accepted the small glass mug and took a careful sit and immediately felt the warm rush of alcohol and spicy, creamy sweetness coat her tongue. Delicious.

“Okay, presents!” Dick announced after Alfred finally joined the family, not after depositing a large Christmas log on the table much to everyone’s delight. Bruce dove right in and began handing out slices.

Raven settled back and watched in a mixture of fascination and amusement as everyone eagerly handed out gifts. Bruce received a Green Lantern shirt from Jason, much to his chagrin. Damian received a new easel stand from Bruce. Jason got a new holster with tech upgrades from Tim. New ballet shoes for Cass from Dick. Alfred received some incredibly fancy pair of gloves from Damian. Dick chuckled in amusement at the Hufflepuff scarf he received from Cass (Both Dick and Cass seemed to have taken quite a liking towards Harry Potter).

There were more gifts that were passed around and opened and Raven took great pleasure to take in the domesticity of the scene in front of her. She ignored how her stomach leaped and warmed at the occasional ‘Thank You’ and the hug she received from Cass for the ballet tickets (“We can go together!”). She still was not entirely used to having this kind of doting attention directed towards her. This year she and Tim signed the tags of all the gifts for the rest of the Wayne brood with their names together. It was a surreal act, a first in their relationship (since last year they just kept to themselves), making this feeling of inclusion into this little bubble very real. She watched as Damian carefully unwrapped the silvery wrapper of their gift for him, her gaze briefly catching sight of the familiar tag she and Tim meticulously cut out and signed. She felt her heart leap briefly and marveled how a simple strip of paper could affect her.

They gifted Damian with leatherbound sketchpad and graphite pencils which Tim had carefully picked out for the younger boy. She watched as the corners of Damian’s lips curled slightly into a smile as he lifted the large sketchpad and inspected the lettering of Damian Wayne carefully pressed into the leather. She knew that Tim and Damian were not always at best terms, but Tim still was very thoughtful of his younger brother’s interests.

“Thank you, Raven, son,” Bruce smiled kindly over at the couple, holding up a large leather satchel. Tim had mentioned that Bruce needed a new bag for work, so he and Raven tried to find one and worked on customizing it with a few more hidden panels and locks.

“Welcome, B,” Tim beamed and quickly went through the codes and panels with the older man.

Raven was busy making plans with Cass to catch a performance at the New York City Ballet Company for their Spring season with the promise to use a portal to pick the younger woman up in Gotham. Tim returned and sat down next to her and gently pressed a small present into her lap.

“Oh,” Raven looked at the small red package in surprise. She caught Tim’s bemused smile and playfully rolled her eyes. “Wait, let me get yours,” she said and hurried towards the tree and grabbed the medium-sized gift. “Here,” she offered him a stern look. “Don’t shake it,”

“What is it?”

Raven settled next to him and placed her own gift into her lap, curiosity piquing slightly at what could be in the box. “Just open it,” she nudged him gently while watching his fingers pull at the ribbon and meticulously unwrap the giftwrap.

“Oh,” Tim pulled out a Sigma camera lens from the box. He blinked and stared at the new model, surprised at the gift. They briefly talked about getting new lenses for his camera a few months back, Tim was touched that she even remembered that conversation. “This isn’t even out on the market yet,” Tim marveled.

Raven shrugged and smiled mischievously. “I have my ways,”

Tim carefully returned the lens into its box. Leaning in he pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek. “Thanks, Rae,”

Raven hummed, a warm blush dusting her cheeks, and she ducked her head. Focusing on her gift, she unwrapped the gift carefully and stared curiously at the grey box. Carefully lifting the lid, a small smile spread across her lips as she stared at the little note she found on top of a pair of very fuzzy blue socks. ‘For your cold feet.’

She released a soft huff of laughter and pulled out the impossibly soft and fuzzy socks. She shot an amused look at Tim, who quickly returned hers with a familiar boyish grin of his own. Pushing aside the colorful box stuffing, she pulled out a portable mug heater and a beautiful kabuki mask from his last trip to Japan.

“Thanks, Tim,” she pressed a soft kiss onto his cheek.

“There’s one more,” Tim gentled nudged her shoulder, prompting her to look back into her gift box and rummage through colorful paper before fishing out a small velvet pouch. She cast Tim a curious glance, before turning back to the little pouch and carefully opening it. Turning it upside down, she knew it was jewelry when she felt the light weight of a chain slide down the pouch and drop into her hand. “Tim,” she breathed.

It was gold necklace with a little bird in flight pendant. The pendant looked delicate and finely made, Raven could see the details of feathers on the little bird’s outstretched wings. The little pendant slid down her palm as she shifted her hand in the warm light, the delicate weight of the necklace tickling her palm. She never really thought much of jewelry, but her heart warmed at the thoughtfulness of the gift.

“Do you like it?” Tim asked carefully, leaning into her space, and gaging her reaction. He knew that he shouldn’t be all too worried over her not liking the gift, he already knew that she appreciated small tokens and trinkets. Early on into the relationship Tim learned that Raven did not seem to care over expensive and lavish things, but she enjoyed simple treats and gifts from his business travels and missions. She did the same by bringing rocks or other strange trinkets from her off-earth missions. Yet the little golden necklace seemed to unwittingly rattle him just a little bit, he thought.

Raven smiled and nodded. “It’s pretty,” she mumbled, careful to keep the little conversation between them as the rest of the Bat family busied themselves with their own presents and conversations. Leaning into his space, she pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You shouldn’t have,”

“Well,” Tim chuckled and took the necklace out of her hand and gently pushed her shoulder to turn her around for him to put the necklace around her neck. “I would have wanted to get a bat pendant, but that would have been weird,”

Raven released a huff of laughter as she pushed her hair out of the way and allowed Tim to fasten the necklace around her neck. The little gold bird settled against her red reindeer sweater. Absently fingering the little pendant, before turning back to Tim to show him how it looked. She smiled as she watched him beam at her, blue eyes bright in mirth. He looked happy and content, bathed in the warm Christmas lights and wrapped up in his dorky Festivus Christmas sweater. Raven’s heart warmed at the sight, the Tim she met so many years ago was so different – much darker, and she enjoyed seeing this new light in him. Leaning in, she kissed Tim. “I love you, you dork,”

Tim hummed and offered a mumbled ‘I love you’ back before gathering her into his arms for a quick hug. Aware of others around them and the curious glances they shot their way, he released her and pressed a quick kiss to her temple before they settled next to each other. While Raven busied herself with Cass, Tim caught Bruce staring at them, his gaze warm and there was a small smile on the older man’s lips. Tim felt a little flustered at being watched but felt relieved to find himself in a better place with Bruce and the rest of the family. Offering the older man a small smile, Tim was glad that he and Raven decided to spend Christmas together with the family.

“We should take a family picture,” Dick announced, his Gryffindor scarf clashing terribly with his cat Christmas sweater. There was a loud cacophony of agreements and grumbles (“So many dramatics, dickface”) as Dick herded people to the small couch by the Christmas tree and had everyone settle around Bruce and Alfred.

Raven blinked, suddenly unsure where to place herself in the middle of people moving around the living room for the family picture. She awkwardly stood up and made a grab for Tim’s camera. “I’ll take the picture –”

“No!” Cass jumped to her knees and stopped Raven from picking up the camera from the table. “You sit with us,”

Raven felt heat rush to her cheeks at the invitation. “But I –”

“You’re one of us now,” Dick chirped from his perch on the couch’s armrest. His arm was slung over the back of the couch behind Alfred and he smiled warmly at Raven.

“Sit,” Tim mumbled warmly into her ear, gently pushing her lower back towards the couch. He easily caught on her sudden discomfort, catching the way her brows drew together in worry. Smiling gently, he gave her another gentle push before he took the camera and worked on setting up the tripod and timer.

“Come sit with us, Raven,” Bruce said while wrapping an arm around Damian next to him. Bruce easily caught her flustered glance and tilted his head towards the side where Cass had settled down next to the Christmas tree.

Raven tried to hide her surprise and embarrassment as she ducked her head and hurried to sit down next to Cass by the foot of the Christmas tree. You’re one of us now settled low in her stomach and surprisingly sent warm jolts up her spine – she had not expected that invitation. She felt Cass’ hand wrap around hers and she looked up at the younger woman in surprise. Cass offered her an encouraging smile and nudged her shoulder. Raven offered a small one in return as she allowed these new feelings to settle in.

“Hurry up, Timbers. Let’s get it done within this year’s Christmas maybe?” Jason’s annoyed voice drifted through the living room and Raven listened to Cass giggle next to her. “My hot eggnog is getting cold, and I’d like it warm, thank you very much.”

“Hold on, one sec,” Tim mumbled. He was busy tinkering with the camera settings, making sure that the lighting was perfect, and the exposure was just right. After making sure that everyone was in frame, Tim pulled out his camera remote. “Okay, got it.”

Hurrying towards Raven and Cass, Tim settled down on the floor next to Raven and gave her gentle smile. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer to his side, he squeezed her shoulder encouragingly. “Okay, everyone. On three, smile. One, two, three!”

“Wait now? Or on three? Or after?”

“On three, Dickface!”

“Boys!”

“Three!”

As the sounds of the camera shutter filled the room, Raven smiled and leaned into Tim. Whatever discomforts and flustered feelings she may have had early on, seemed to have slowly dissipated – like a weight she had been carrying on her shoulders had lifted. She belonged. Leaning into Tim more and feeling his arm just tighten a little bit more around her, Raven basked in the warmth of belonging.

The picture turned out great.

~

They all settled into their own rooms later that evening after everyone had their fill of eggnog, hot cocoa, and the Christmas Yule Log was miraculously eaten up. (“When you raise boys, leftovers are rare,” Bruce told Raven with a chuckle) A round of ‘Merry Christmas’ filled the living room followed by amusingly stiff yet warm hugs among the men (except for Alfred, who warmly hugged his brood) and a promise of Christmas leftovers for breakfast for everyone.

Raven and Tim silently shuffled back to their room carrying their gifts. Raven was surprised she even received gifts that evening considering that none of them even knew that she would be coming. The cashmere scarf from Alfred was beautiful (“I wasn’t sure who Master Tim would bring, but I would think every young woman would need a beautiful scarf”) and the Christmas-themed Batman sweater was funny (“We didn’t know who you were,” Dick shrugged apologetically). Bruce gifted her with a first edition Mark Twain book, undoubtedly pulled out of his personal library, but she loved it. (“You’re welcome to come and visit the library, or our home, anytime.”). Damian surprised both Tim and her when he silently offered them a thick rolled up paper before scurrying back to Bruce’s side and stuffing his face with cookies. When she and Tim unfurled the paper, they were surprised to see a beautifully drawn pencil drawing of both of them asleep and curled up into each other in one of the many sitting rooms of the house. It was beautiful.

Just as they carefully deposited all their gifts on Tim’s study table, Raven heard a little huff and scuffle by their door. Titus’ head peaked through the open door, obviously on his way to Damian’s room down the hall. The large dog whined, begging for Raven’s attention. Leaving Tim to change and get ready for bed, Raven released a soft chuckle and went over to the large dog.

“Hey boy,” she whispered and knelt to offer some scratches. Titus huffed loudly and promptly plopped down on the floor and rolled onto his back for some belly rubs. Raven eagerly complied, rubbing the dog’s soft fur.

Raven chuckled as Titus gave a low huff and whine as she scratched just the right spot. She heard Tim move in the background and slowly appear next to her, watching them in amusement. “Titus is going to miss you,” Tim chuckled while rubbing his face with a towel.

Raven hummed and she briefly looked up at Tim, noting that he had already changed for bed. Taking that it was her turn to get ready, she gave Titus one last pat on the belly and finally stood up. “I’ll miss him too, but not his sheer force of a dog,” she said with a small smile and stood up. They both watched Titus whine and get to his feet, watching Raven curiously. With a sneeze and a huff, he sat by their door. “Night, boy,” Raven gently patted the dog on his head before gently nudging Titus out the door and closing and locking it.

Pressing a kiss to Tim’s temple, she slowly shuffled off towards the bathroom to wash her hands and get ready for bed. She could hear Tim climb into bed and tinker with his phone as she heard the distinct tapping of keys, she was sure that Tim was busy checking emails and some work-related project from WE. She could feel the gentle push of his stress and it was a little surreal how well she knew Tim. While admittedly, there was still so much to learn from each other, Raven oddly caught herself surprised at how well they complemented each other despite the physical distance between them at times.

Despite her earlier hesitations of coming to meet Tim’s family officially, Raven was glad they made this trip. She understood his hurt a little bit better. She got a glimpse of how much he cared for his family, despite the tension that often bubbled low beneath the surface. She understood and saw Tim more, a rawness she was privileged to see, and her heart unconsciously warmed to have shared those moments with him.

Frank Sinatra’s ‘Have yourself a merry little Christmas’ crooned softly from the bedroom and Raven smiled. Feeling warm and full, Raven was glad she was here with Tim. She silently hoped for more of this. These quiet, raw, moments between them. Funny how she now found herself wanting this kind of raw intimacy.

After washing her face and brushing her teeth, Raven stripped down to her underwear – thankfully a matching lacy black pair. Not bothering to change just yet, she slipped out of the bathroom and leaned against the doorframe as she listened to Sinatra’s voice and watched Tim frown at his phone screen.

“I’m not sure Frank Sinatra will appreciate you frowning so furiously at his singing,” Raven teased, while playfully crossing her arms.

“There’s just a report –” Tim paused and openly stared at her figure, drinking in the black lace. “Oh,” He sat up, leaning against the headboard and watched her move towards the bed with piqued interest. “Hey,”

“Through the years we all will be together…”

Raven released a soft chuckle. “Hey,” she replied, lips curling every so lightly as she felt the familiar press of desire and attraction press against her. Drinking in his own boyish grin and the way his muscles rippled as he carefully placed his phone on the nightstand while not breaking eye contact with her had her own desires pool low in her stomach.

“Merry Christmas,” Tim said as Raven reached his side of the bed.

Raven hummed playfully. “Merry Christmas,” she replied and climbed into his lap, Tim’s hands immediately settling on her thighs as she sat down.

Tim grinned up at her boyishly and ran his hands up her thighs and over the swell of her hips. Fingers teasingly hooked into the sides of her lacy underwear and his lips curled further into a smile as he caught her amused stare. “May I unwrap my Christmas present?”

Raven released a thoughtful hum and ignored his fingers press into her hips. Leaning over him, she instead slipped her hands underneath his grey shirt and teasingly tugged it up his body while pressing a kiss to his neck. “I was hoping I could unwrap mine?” she mumbled into the underside of his chin as she pressed her body into him and felt his hands splay over her hips and butt. She tugged at his shirt once more and they fumbled to remove it while Raven lay over him.

They kissed languidly, both basking in a warm Christmas glow that settled low in their abdomens and left warm tingles up their bodies. Fingers were needy and gentle as they pressed into familiar curves and scars.

Raven felt nimble fingers run up her back and make quick work to unfasten her bra as she kissed him deeply. With a soft inhale, Raven sat up on Tim’s lap and allowed the garment the slide down her shoulders. Raven raised an eyebrow playfully as she caught Tim’s heated gaze, watching her remove her bra and drop in on the floor. For good measure, she teasingly rocked her hips into him as she felt his erection press against the apex of her own growing need.

Inhaling sharply at the steady rocking of her hips, Tim’s fingers dug into her hips and slowly slid up her waist for a steady trek up her chest. “Definitely the best Christmas, I must say,” Tim announced, hooded eyes eagerly drinking in Raven’s naked form.

Raven teasingly raised an eyebrow and ran her hands down his abdomen, watching in satisfaction as the muscles contracted in contact. She hooked her fingers into his sweatpants. “I still need to finish unwarp—”

Titus’ loud snuffling interrupted them as he sniffed the bottom of their bedroom door. Raven paused, lips lifted into an amused smile, and they both curiously watched as the silhouette of a large nose danced across the small crack at the bottom of their door. There was a low whine and a lot louder snuffling.

Tim shot an annoyed-amused look at this door. “Go away, Titus. You’re killing our Kinky Christmas mood,” he said, which of course did not achieve anything with the silencing charm still in place in the room.

Raven chuckled. With a little spark of magic that danced through the crack, Titus released a loud huff, before scurrying away from their bedroom door. With purple eyes dancing in amusement, she turned back to an equally amused Tim. “We should get a pet,” she said, tilting her head to the side thoughtfully and she regarded Tim’s surprised expression.

Tim blinked, surprised at the announcement. Scooting further up against his pillows to sit up better, he dragged Raven closer to him on his lap. The pads of his fingers pressed into her waist. “A pet?” he repeated, curious at this sudden announcement.

“Yes, a pet. An animal,” Raven rolled her eyes and squeezed his left forearm playfully.

Tim paused, gaging where this was going. He watched Raven curiously, waiting for her to explain but she seemed to wait patiently wait for his reply. He blinked. “Uh, okay? But we’re rarely together as often as we’d like in one location. So maybe a,” Tim paused and drew his eyebrows together. “A fish?”

Raven released a soft huff of laughter. “I’m pretty sure a fish needs just as much care as any other animal,” Her gaze softened a little bit as she took in Tim’s curious look and the corners of her lips curled up. “You always said you’d like a cat and I thought we could get one together?”

Tim’s chest warmed at Raven’s explanation. She remembered their conversations of wanting to own a cat as a child but never having been able to. Tim smiled warmly up at Raven, as a rush of emotions spread across his chest. It was always so easy to remind himself why he loved Raven because of her simple acts of kindness and thoughtfulness. “I’d like that,” he said. Curious, he pressed on. “So, it moves around with us? A few months in Gotham and Jump at a time? How do we –”

“I could be more in Gotham,” Raven cut in, tilting her head thoughtfully as she looked down at him.

“Oh,” Tim breathed, as realization slowly dawned on him. A pet – something they’d share together, the feeling of permanence bubbled low underneath his skin and the thought left him just a little bit breathless. “More time in Gotham?” he repeated, sounding terribly like an old record, but he needed to confirm what he was hearing and what it meant.

The corner of Raven’s lips lifted slightly, and she shifted in his lap as Tim sat up fully to lean against the headboard. Fingers pressed into the dips of her waist, and she felt a blush spread across her cheeks and neck as she felt his warm press of emotions against her – want, love, happiness.

“Yeah,” she replied and absently traced an old scar along Tim’s right forearm. “I’ve been thinking of getting a degree at Gotham University, have a life more outside of the Titans,” she shrugged nonchalantly. “I’d still help where I can, but –” Raven blinked thoughtfully and stared at Tim. “I’d like to have a life as Rachel as well,”

Raven watched as a smile grew on Tim’s lips. She returned his smile, her own emotions a whirlwind in her chest as she thought of the different prospects of the future. “That’s an excellent plan,” breathed Tim, eyes shining and his grin wide with excitement and happiness.

“Yeah?” Raven asked, unconsciously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. They occasionally talked of the future and their current arrangements, but her plans offered unspoken possibilities they both seemed eager to explore. “That is, if Batman is okay with having a half-demon resident in Gotham?”

“Fuck Batman,” Tim huffed and pressed forward to kiss Raven, muffling her bark of laughter. Pulling away from the kiss, he smiled “So, a cat?”

“We should look at shelters,”

In a rush of emotions, Tim kissed her again. The promise of so much more between them seemed to teasingly dance in front of them and he was eager to take what he could get. He felt Raven hum and melt into the kiss, leaning deeper into his embrace.

“I love you,” he breathed after finally pulling away and gently pressing another kiss to the corner of her lips. Basking in the joy of the moment and the unspoken promise of what lay ahead for them, a cat and so much more, Tim pulled away and carefully leaned towards his bedside table. “I have another Christmas gift,” he announced and with unusually clumsy fingers, he pulled the small item out of the bedside drawer.

Raven’s brows furrowed as she curiously watched Tim blindly fumble through the items in his drawer. She kept her balance on Tim’s lap, as he twisted and tried to keep his balance over the edge of his bed as he rummaged through the drawer. “Here,” Tim announced and turned back to her a little too quickly, eager to present to her what he pulled out of the depths of his drawer.

“What – oh!” Raven felt her heart stutter to a halt and her breath was knocked out of her lungs. She stared at the small black box in front of her with a wild mix of emotions. She blinked, wondering perhaps she was seeing things, but yes – the little black box was there. Her heart jumped into her throat. “Tim.”

Tim blinked at her tone and jumped as his own thoughts and stray emotions seemed to catch up with him. “It’s --- ah,” he breathed, and Tim was sure he could barely hear his own thoughts over how loud his heart was hammering in his chest. He shifted in bed, bringing Raven closer to him. Her eyes were wide, staring at the little box in his hand.

“It’s not an engagement ring,” Tim quickly explained, catching the panic and surprise that crossed her face. “I --- ah, yet.” He quickly added, heart beating like mad in his chest and he watched in relief as Raven released a soft huff of laughter and the confusion on her face disappeared.

He pressed the little box into her hands with a nervous laugh. “It’s not an engagement ring,” he repeated and offered her a small reassuring smile. “Yet – we didn’t talk about that. But --- yeah,” Tim wrapped her fingers around the small box and held her hands. “It’s just a ring I thought you might like,”

There was an inexplicable warmth that spread through Raven at the unspoken promise of something deeper. They had never really talked about how their future may look like – their work offering little stable foundation to a permanent future. But this tonight – these little promises and pictures of what may potentially be ahead of them painted a much clearer picture of the future for the two of them. It left Raven breathless. They were getting a cat, together, and they had this now – this little warm bubble they shared.

“Oh,” Raven opened the box and stared at the silver infinity knot ring perched in the velvet case.

“I thought you might like it,” Tim explained gently, taking in Raven’s surprised reaction. “I just – I like this, us, and everything we have together. It was a dangerous mission, but Lisbon and getting shot and getting paired with you was incredibly lucky for me – well, minus getting shot and losing a lot of blood, but,” Tim shrugged and watched as Raven chuckled softly. “I’m so lucky to be with you, and I honestly don’t think I deserve you or everything that you’ve given me. You’re the kindest, most loving person I know. The last year has been incredible and yeah --- I want more of this. These moments of us together, it’s been incredible. I love you, Rae,” Tim felt his stomach twist and he smiled gently at Raven. “I’d really like that cat with you,”

Raven laughed; eyes filled with unshed tears. “I love you too,” she breathed and dipped down for a deep kiss he eagerly responded to. There was a jumble of emotions that seemed to catch up on her – she honestly wasn’t quite sure if they were hers or Tim’s, but the feelings were pleasant, and she was in no rush to dissect them.

She pulled away when air became scarce and a deeper hunger pressed into her as their hips slowly rocked into each other and fingers pressed into the dips of her ribcage and brushed just under the swell of her breasts, a reminder of their nakedness. Sitting upright under Tim’s watchful gaze, she pulled the ring out of its box and slipped it onto her finger. It fit perfectly. Looking down at Tim’s face, she quirked her lips up teasingly. “Are you sure you didn’t just propose?”

Tim laughed and leaned forward to press a kiss onto her cheek, he felt her grin widen. “I want you to be my cat partner,” he teased and ran his hand down her bare back, enjoying how her warm skin felt against his hands. There was a little window that offered a little glimmer of being more than just cat parents that they both seemed to acknowledge but they did not bother to speak about – yet. “Besides,” he mumbled against the underside of her chin and teasingly ran his hand over her waist. “I’d rather propose somewhere else, not with a 200-pound dog standing guard outside our door and the rest of my family in the house,”

Tim flipped them over, Raven released a soft laugh as she was pressed into their bed and Tim hovered over her with a teasing smirk. Fingers teasingly hooked into the waistband of her underwear and he grinned boyishly at her, long hair falling into his eyes as they twinkled playfully. “And I’d like us to celebrate very loudly all over our apartment and not worry over nosy neighbors,” he said and playfully tugged at her panties. Pressing down for a breath-stealing kiss, Tim nipped at her lower lips and pulled his body flush against hers and gently started to tug her panties down. “For now, we celebrate us being cat parents. I’m going to unwrap my Christmas gift,”

“Yes,”

With a final tug, black lacy panties were thrown off their bed and Tim quickly dipped his head between her legs, tongue eagerly licking wet folds and burying into an addictive warmth. Raven gasped loudly, back arching off the bed, just as hot electricity shot through her body and desires pooled low in her abdomen.

“Tim!” she gasped, her thighs straining against his forearms as he pressed them wide open. Raven’s world seemed to turn into a blurry haze as heat just ignited her skin. Blindly grabbing the sheets to anchor herself and her reeling world, Raven buried her right hand into Tim’s hair and gave it a sharp tug as he hit a particular delicious note in his ministrations. Groaning, Raven felt her titter dangerously out of control.

Enjoying watching her coming undone, Tim continued with his careful ministrations of measured licking and strokes. Humming in delight as he felt her sharp tugs in his hair, he peered up at her and watched in satisfaction as continued to writhe in delight. Spreading her wider open and digging his fingers into her hips, Tim’s tongue buried deep within her and eagerly stoked a fire that made her sing.

Raven felt the world melt away as she felt herself quickly tumbling over the edge as Tim continued to stroke and suck, quickly sending her into oblivion. With a cry, Raven felt her body tumble over the edge. The world seemed to explode as she fell through the sky and her body roared at lick after lick after lick – continuously stoking flames and propelling her into the abyss.

The world came back around her slowly and the first thing she heard was her unsteady and rapid breathing. Her senses came back one of after another, her skin hot and sticking against the sheets despite the cold winter air that brushed over her legs. She lay spread eagle, all her limbs weak, and she gasped for breath as the heat within her belly still roared and her core throbbed deliciously.

“Fuck,” she breathed, blinking up at the old wooden ceiling and thanked the gods for their common sense of using a silencing charm.

“Hmm,” Tim made a humming sound of agreement from below and Raven lazily lolled her head in his direction to catch him still draped over her thighs and hips. He looked like the cat that ate all the cream – quite literally with the way his chin glistened. Raven blushed at the sight and her desires roared lowly for more. Nimble fingers danced over her heated flesh, dancing across her inner thighs and dangerously close to her throbbing core – teasing her with each stroke. Raven involuntarily bucked into him. Fuck.

“That was the best present to unwrap tonight,” mumbled Tim with a soft grin. He watched her sigh softly as he ran his hands up her waist. “Need to do one more thing before we move along,” he announced and quickly began kissing and nibbling on her hip bone.

“What are you doing?” Raven asked in between breaths as Tim nibbled and sucked on her hip bone, teeth scraping against heated flesh. She gasped as teeth dragged across her skin and she felt herself buck into him, cashing the delicious friction.

With a wet pop and a satisfied grin, Tim looked up at her, catching her blown blue eyes over her heaving chest. Tim felt his emotions hum in satisfaction, he loved watching her come undone and loose herself. “Just leaving a little mark to celebrate the occasion,” he said, eyes trailing back to her hip bone.

Raven’s brows furrowed together in confusion before releasing a soft huff of exasperated laughter as she saw the blossoming red bite mark on her skin – on her hip bone. “You didn’t,” she threw him an accusatory smile.

“Oh, I did,” Tim kissed her rib cage as he crawled up her body. Pressing a kiss to the side of her right breast, he dragged himself up her body and enjoyed the silky press of her skin against his. Pressing into her and enjoying the subtle roll of her hips against his own, he kissed the underside of jaw. “Thought it’d be a good touch to celebrate our Kinky Christmas,”

Tim had lost his sweats at some point earlier and Raven felt him brush against her inner thigh. Chasing the silky heat and his hot emotions, she laughed and wrapped her arms and round his shoulders, drawing him flush onto her. “You sap,” she whispered and caught his lips for a kiss. Feeling him brush against her, she whimpered softly and wrapped her left leg around his waist.

Tim rolled his hips against her teasingly, his cock brushing against her entrance and he released a breath he was holding in anticipation. Teasingly, he kissed the corner of her lips and smiled. “You like it, admit it,” he said while grabbing her leg around his waist and digging his fingers into her thigh. He grinned at the soft mewl and how their bodies rocked into each other.

“Yes,” She whispered, slowly loosing herself again. Her fingers danced over his shoulders and traced old scars. Rocking her hips against his and chasing the heat that was building up, Raven tapped his shoulder and hungrily brushed up against the silky skin of his cock. “But,” she whispered and her breathing stuttered as Tim started to kiss her neck and continued to teasingly rock into her. “I – I’d rather,” she mumbled, and she felt him nibble at the junction of her neck. “You fuck me into oblivion to celebrate our cat parenting future,”

Tim dragged his teeth along her pulse point and listened to her stuttered breathing. Allowing a fire to consume both of their desires, Tim promptly crawled over her and grinned down at her wolfishly. Rocking his hips into hers and brushing against her entrance teasingly, he spread her wider for him and pulled her in for long, bruising kiss. “Gladly,” he growled and all but impaled himself into her hot heat in one fluid motion.

“TIM!”

Much later, when they lay spent against each other and basked in the afterglow of lovemaking, they’d agree that this was perhaps the best Christmas they ever had – the promise of more Christmases together, as a cat family, seemed to glimmer teasingly.

[losille2000]

The Swan, Chapter 6

TITLE: The Swan CHAPTER NUMBER: 6/? AUTHOR: Losille2000 WHICH Tom/CHARACTER: Actor!Tom GENRE: Romance/Drama FIC SUMMARY: Sequel to The Ugly Duckling. Astrid embarks on a two-week trip to London to serve as her sister’s maid of honor, hoping against all hope she might miraculously run into her Hawaiian mystery man. When her sister and soon-to-be brother-in-law drag her to a production of Hamlet to meet the groom’s best man, Astrid gets the shock of her life. The situation, though, is anything but perfect. RATING: M (sex, language) WARNINGS: None in this chapter. AUTHORS NOTES: So... what can I say? It's been a while. If you want the whole story, you can look through my blog or message me. I'm happy to answer. That said, it's been a good three years since I did any serious writing. My writing muscles need to build back up to what they were before. Please be kind... and let me know what you think. :D

Chapters: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - ALSO ON AO3!

Chapter 6 - Flying the Coop

Regret.

Astrid regretted ever stomping up those stairs to Tom’s bedroom. She regretted challenging him to make a move. She regretted letting him have his way with her. In the moment, it seemed right. Maybe if they slept together again, they’d find an incompatibility, especially now that the air of tropical mystery had dissipated and left in its place two broken flesh-and-blood people.

How wrong could she have been?

Now it was amplified, deeper, hotter, engulfing.

Only two weeks for whatever this fire was to fizzle?

It wasn’t, as the Brits say, bloody likely.

And here she was, smack dab in the position she didn’t want to be in; no matter how tangentially her current association with her mother, the family business, and Hollywood was, being connected to Tom in this way presented too many problems to even consider at this point. And fucking him—

“Astrid, are you even listening to me?”

Astrid jumped from the intrusion, letting out a slight squeak. She blinked hard and turned in her spot to look at her sister, who stood in the middle of the furnished but unoccupied flat. “Sorry?”

“Are you okay?” Tilde asked. “You’ve been spacey after the dress shop— and I’m just worried.”

“You don’t need to worry.”

“Let me worry,” she begged. “Let me be the big sister I never got to be.”

Astrid laughed ruefully. If only she could actually talk with Tilde about Tom. She wouldn’t understand, or at the very least, it could pose some very difficult situations in the coming days with the wedding right around the corner. But, Astrid guessed, Tilde meant the other elephant in the room... Astrid being the elephant, and their mother being a Class A narcissist. Because there was absolutely no way Tilde would know about what had happened at Tom’s home...

“It’s too late for that, Tilde,” Astrid said. “You know I love you. I just— there’s no changing her.”

Tilde grumbled and glided over to the couch in the living room. She dropped down on top of the cushions, barely displacing the pillow stuffing with her slight ballet-formed frame. “I should have never allowed her to do all this. I should have done it on my own, it’s not like Jim and I are so hard up. But I thought...”

Astrid held up a hand to stop her sister and sat on the couch more gingerly than Tilde, measuredly, so as not to displace any stuffing in the overstuffed couch, either. Something her mother had taught her, after all: If you’re not going to put in effort to look like a lady, you can at least act like one.

God, even that memory still hurt, down to the marrow in her bones.

“But you did.” Astrid shrugged and laid her head on the back of the couch. There, she sighed.

The sisters sat in silence for some time, listening to Duchess rooting around the flat for something to chew on. When the pug found nothing, she eventually jumped up onto the couch and snuggled into Tilde’s lap.

Astrid cleared her throat. “It’s not all Mom, either. I’m just tired from jet lag and getting everything together for the house party.”

And sleeping with the Best Man. She was pretty sure she’d read a romance novel or a hundred about this situation once. Did that make her a cliché?

“Oh, I meant to ask,” Tilde interjected. “How did that go? Tom was a total tool last night and I was worried about today.”

Astrid licked her lips subconsciously; she could still taste the sugar left by a bite of tiramisu Tom had given to her on a fork. If she concentrated hard enough, she was sure she could still taste the salt of his skin mixed in with it. She could certainly feel the tight muscle in her thigh that pulled every time she shifted, from the way he’d bent it and held it firmly in place as he’d had his way with her.

Frankly, it was a miracle they’d accomplished anything after they ended up in bed. But, she supposed, that was the weirdest part about the whole afternoon. They got out of bed, dressed without speaking and just... worked on what they needed to for the party. There was no discussion. No arguing. Tom stayed a respectable distance from her; she wasn’t sure if she had really wanted him to do it again, over and over, until they were both exhausted. They ate lunch quietly, they got everything organized and packed into his Land Rover, then Tilde showed up and they bade farewell, like it was something they did every day.

Nothing more was said about Hawaii, or a relationship, or lies, or having this end in two weeks. He seemed to be ignoring the topics all together, likely in the misguided belief that if he didn’t bring it up, then everything was fine. She ignored them because discussing WHY she refused to become a true part of his life was too painful.

Astrid pursed her lips and closed her eyes again. Isn’t that what she told him she wanted, though? To feel worshipped and then go about their lives, like nothing happened? Ignore all the elephants and enjoy the sex. No emotion, only sex. He was just following her demands, his need too great to put the brakes on their interlude in his bed.

The problem was that she did want more with him. She wanted emotion and relationships and rainbows and butterflies. When she had thought of him as some wealthy businessman she might once again bump into while visiting London, this had been possible. She had, after all, imagined a reality over the last eighteen months that included falling in love with him and living a life together.

But he wasn’t a businessman. He was an actor. He ran in circles she just couldn’t stomach anymore.

“It was fine. We finished everything and packed it all into his Land Rover for the drive up to Cliveden,” Astrid finally said. “The costume deliveries will be there when we arrive.”

“This really has gotten out of control,” Tilde said. “Part of me just wants to run to the register office and get it over with.”

Astrid shook her head violently. “You do that, and I’ll flip the fuck out. I put too much work into this.”

Tilde laughed. “Scared you, huh?”

“I’m serious, Tilde,” Astrid said, lightly smacking her sister’s thigh. Duchess popped her head up, and thinking it was an invitation for her, came over to her aunt. Astrid cuddled the dog close to her chest, breathing in her freshly bathed fur.

“She likes you,” Tilde said.

Astrid kissed Duchess’ head. “Small children and dogs, apparently.”

Tilde chuckled softly before letting out a long sigh. “I bet she would really like it if her Aunt Astrid were around more.”

“Aunt Astrid is a teacher and never has any time,” she replied directly to Duchess. Duchess reached for the hand that had stopped petting her and touched it with her paw. Her imploring buggy pug eyes asked Aunt Astrid for more.

Tilde huffed, but said nothing more for a long time. Then she cleared her throat. “How do you like the flat, anyway?”

“It’s nice,” Astrid confirmed. In fact, it was nicer than “nice.” This flat looked like one of those staged ads in a real estate magazine with lots of recessed lighting, soft gray colors, top-of-the-line furnishings and a ton of space.

“We’re trying to decide if we’ll sell it or keep it as an investment property,” Tilde replied. “It’s kind of a pain in the ass as a rental property, though.”

Astrid nodded. “You could just give it to Dad’s company to manage.”

Not that doing so was a great option, either.

If Astrid saw her mother irregularly, she saw her father even less. After their separation, he spent time in Las Vegas developing a new casino concept and then, when Astrid graduated from UNLV, moved his business operations permanently back to Sweden. Still, though, the relationship with her father was better than it was with her mother, simply by virtue that he was never around and didn’t have an opportunity to find the weaknesses in her armor like her mother. Tilde rarely spoke about either parent, but Astrid was certain their relationship was similar.

Tilde sat up and turned to look at Astrid seriously. “Or you could move into it.”

“Excuse me?” Astrid said, her heart skipping a few beats, from a sudden surge of anxiety and... something else.

“I’m serious, Astrid,” she said. “We don’t see each other enough and I want to spend time with you and make up for all those years we were apart.”

This wasn’t just some passing fancy. Astrid could see that as plain as day on Tilde’s face. Her sister was determined to convince her to move to London. But for what? She had no support system other than Tilde and James... and her career... well, that was back in Las Vegas.

Not that Las Vegas itself was the most amazing place to live and work.

“I’d never see you anyway,” Astrid argued. “You’re always rehearsing, or preparing to rehearse, or performing. And god knows James is going to be busy doing whatever.”

“Yeah, about that...” Tilde said, trailing off quietly. She picked at the dog hair on her sweater for a few seconds, then slowly looked back at Astrid. “I’m retiring at the end of this season.”

“What?!”

Tilde shrugged. “James and I want a family, and if I wait until it’s a ‘good time,’ it’ll never happen because of our schedules. And really, it’s getting harder and harder to come back from injuries and such. I just... I need a long break from being a performing ballerina. I don’t have the fire I once had, the same will to fight for every goddamn role.”

Astrid simply nodded. This was huge news. Ballet was Tilde’s life. She’d been doing it since she was a little girl, had impeccable skill and training and talent for it. The joke was that Tilde had come out of the womb in pointe shoes.

Which wasn’t that far from the truth, really. As soon as their mother could, she’d gotten Tilde into dance with the best instructors money could buy. Their mother, the failed ballerina, always lived through them. Which explained why she did not like anything about Astrid— Astrid did not have anything that would benefit her.

“Have you told Mom yet?” Astrid asked.

Tilde shook her head. “Of course not! And listen to her prattle on about how I’m a failure and she gave me so much and I’m just a terrible person? No, thank you. I’ll wait until she is permanently back in LA before I tell her.”

Even though Tilde had not yet told anyone else, it somehow eased the tension in Astrid’s shoulders knowing that Tilde would be in their mother’s crosshairs for a change. Typically, that wasn’t the case; their parents always treated Tilde like the perfect golden child. Of course, Tilde had always been one of Astrid’s fiercest allies… when she could. However, since Tilde spent most of her life in London studying at the Royal Ballet from a very early age, support and camaraderie had been scarce. Now, though? Now it felt like she and Tilde could weather the storm together.

Tilde continued, “Yeah. I’m thinking about opening up a dance studio and then after the baby thing happens, if I still have the performing bug in me, then I’ll start guesting. But I’m just so excited to start having babies.”

Stopping the smile from forming on Astrid’s lips was impossible as she registered the excitement on Tilde’s face. Astrid felt the enthusiasm coming from Tilde’s corner of the couch. “I’m excited for you, Tilde.”

And she was. She truly was.

Tilde reached out and grabbed Astrid’s hand. “I’m serious, though, Astrid. We never had a great family growing up, and I see this as an opportunity to right the wrongs of the past and create the family we should have had growing up.”

“I don’t know, Til.”

“James and I have both talked about it a lot and we both agree.”

“Tilde, even if I did move here,” Astrid began, “I don’t know the first thing about teaching in England.”

Tilde nodded. “I know. But James’ parents are retired teachers. I’m sure they’d be willing to help you make heads or tails of it.”

Astrid pursed her lips and turned to stare at the dormant fireplace sitting in front of them. Duchess, who had not moved, made happy dog purr noises as Astrid massaged the tiny velvet triangles of her ears. To be fair to Tilde, Astrid had often thought of moving to London to be nearer to her, but she never thought it would happen or that Tilde would actually need or want her here. The fact that she was wanted made emotion spring to her eyes and prick at them until they watered.

But then, there was the other issue.

The really, super, ginormous issue that came in the shape of a devastatingly handsome British man she met on vacation. If she moved to London, she’d certainly be seeing him more. No clean break at the end of two weeks like she hoped.

“And, you know,” Tilde said, “London’s arts scene is stupendous. We have the hook-up. I thought you could get back into it. You can hardly do that in Las Vegas.”

Astrid snorted. “Tilde, that part of my life is over.”

“Why? You’re amazing. I remember the video you sent of your college production of Othello. There wasn’t a dry eye in the place.”

While Tilde’s appreciation for her talent warmed Astrid’s heart, it didn’t take away the sting of her mother’s actions. Astrid couldn’t even bring herself to discuss it with Tilde when it first happened, much less in the intervening eight years since the incidents that led to her total disavowal of all things acting related. Her silence on the matter, though, had finally come home to roost. First with Tilde telling Tom she was still an actor, and Tom calling her a liar because she told him she wanted nothing to do with it. And now, with Tilde staring her down imploringly. Tilde wanted answers just as much as Tom did, except for very different reasons.

Astrid could not force her suddenly leaden tongue to move in her mouth. Tilde would just have to live with not knowing the whole story, for now. Finally, she said, “If I move to London, I’m not going to be acting.”

“Well, I guess I’ll take that,” Tilde replied. “As long as you’ll still consider moving here to be with me.”

A knock at the front door startled them all, sending Duchess barking and wheezing to the door. The door opened and James popped his head inside. “Knock knock.”

“Come in!” Tilde sang back to him, jumped from her seat, and nearly leaped over the back of the couch to get to him like he was a cold glass of lemonade on a hot day. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him squarely. For a brief, possibly irrational, moment, Astrid was jealous of her sister and the relationship she had built with James.

Which wasn’t a great feeling to have if the plan was to spend more time with them. How could she uproot her entire life— leave her students and friends— and move halfway across the globe just to be consumed by the green-eyed monster?

“Babe,” Tilde said, “tell Astrid she needs to move to London.”

James laughed and turned to look at Astrid. “Astrid… you need to move to London.”

“Thank you!” Tilde pecked his cheek and pirouetted in place until she was facing away from him. She started walking back toward the bedroom. “Let me go get my purse and we can get going.”

When Tilde was gone, and the flat was mostly silent except for more of Duchess’ puggy wheezing as she calmed, James’ smile dropped into a stony seriousness. He stepped over to her and quietly murmured, “We would love to have you here, Astrid. But I understand if you don’t want to come. The decision has to be yours, and if you decide not to move, I will handle Tilde.”

Astrid was grateful for James’ level-headedness in the situation. In the short time she’d known the man, she found that he was a gifted reader of rooms. That was why he was so good with Tilde— a steady anchor in a turbulent sea. Clearly, he understood the anxiety twisting her stomach into knots.

She set a grateful hand on his arm and squeezed appreciatively. “Thanks, James.”

“And don’t let my association with Tom cloud your judgement,” James said.

Astrid withdrew her hand like he’d burned it. Her eyes snapped up to his, then focused outward on the rest of his features and body language. She didn’t know how he knew, but he did. Tom must have told James, despite that she asked him not to.

Unless Tom had told James last night…

“How do you...” She trailed off, turning her gaze and trying to hide her blush.

“He’s my best man for a reason. We tell each other everything,” James replied. “I had hoped that your work today would allow you some time to figure things out before more of this wedding commenced and caused a problem.”

Astrid gulped. “Does Tilde know?”

James shook his head silently.

“Good,” Astrid replied. Good for two reasons, really. The first, because it confirmed for her that the invitation to come to London wasn’t Tilde playing matchmaker. The second, because she still didn’t want anybody to know about it. “Wait… how much did he tell you?”

James stared back at her, a mischievous glint in his eyes and a slight curl at the corner of his mouth. “That would be breaking the Code.”

Her face now completely aflame, Astrid bent down and grabbed Duchess into her arms. She couldn’t even look at the man anymore without feeling embarrassed. Hopefully, it would pass quickly.

“Bad news!” Tilde called from the hallway as she came back into the room. Her thumbs moved rapidly over the screen of her iPhone. “Mother decided we needed an all hands on deck dinner tonight.”

Astrid groaned. “In addition to or replacing the one tomorrow night at Cliveden?”

“In addition to,” Tilde said. “Tom can’t make it tonight because he has the cast party, and Dad isn’t even in England yet, so that’ll be the official one. Tonight is probably just more nitpicking.”

“Do we have to?” Astrid whined.

Tilde sighed heavily and dropped her phone into her purse with agitation. “Strength in numbers, dear sister.”

Her sister's proclamation made the summons to dinner no better, but Astrid and James dutifully followed Tilde out of the flat and out to the car. The only saving grace was that Tom wouldn't be there. Astrid could focus on one problem, not two.

[twinklelilstarkey]

Stopping You - Michael Gray [Part 4]

Words: 5.7k+ (WHY DID I MAKE THIS SO LONG!!!)

Summary: Y/N and Polly have dinner with not so liked presences.

Warnings: Consumption of Alcohol. Smoking. Mentions of Cocaine. Swearing, a lot of swearing.

Prologue   Part 1   Part 2   Part 3   Part 4   Part 5

You walk in the Shelby’s betting shop with a hand over your forehead, massaging it in hopes that the pounding would go away with it.

The usual smell of cigarettes hits your lungs and you sigh while closing the front door behind you. Your heels click over the old wood and you drag your aching feet over to the table, where only some members of the Shelby family are sitting.

“Morning” You say when Polly and Arthur look up at you.

The people around the table answer you back and you walk over to Polly, who is already with a cigarette on her lips, slowly letting the smoke leave her system by her mouth. You place a kiss over her cheek and a smile grows in her face.

“How are you, my sweet?” She asks and you smile at her words.

“My head’s pounding, but other than that, ready for business” You whisper only at her and she chuckles, taking the cigarette from between her lips to take a good look at you.

You lean back to stand and walk over to where Finn is sitting, distracted with his new fancy box of cigarettes. You sit down on your usual chair while laying your hand on his neck, scratching his skin lightly with your short nails, grabbing his attention.

“How was your night?” He asks with his usual smirk, looking up at you.

“Boring after you bailed on me because of the blondie” You say with a fake harsh tone and his smirk grows into a smile.

“Is that jealousy, I hear?” He asks and you chuckle, getting Arthur’s and Polly’s attention.

“You would love if it was, wouldn’t you?” You ask, teasingly pushing him away by his shoulder and he laughs out loud.

A toothless smile grows on Polly’s face while watching you two interact and the doors from the other side of the room open, showing the people behind it: Michael and Tommy.

The memories from last night run through your mind and you look away from the younger man to stare at Polly, who looked at him with somewhat adoring eyes.

“Good morning, everyone” Tommy says while taking a cigarette out of his pocket and bringing it to his lips, brushing over them before shoving his hand in his pockets, looking for his lighter. “Michael, take a seat”

Michael does as told, adjusting his long jacket before taking his seat next to his mother, and his eyes lift over to you, making a frown grow on his face right away.

“Wasn’t this meeting family restricted?” He asks and both you and Finn stare up at him.

“Y/N has been involved with family business for over a year, she can be here” Arthur answers, not caring enough to look up at his cousin.

That is enough to make Michael shut his mouth and lean back on his chair, yet he moves his gaze towards you, noticing all the annoyance engraved in it. He, then, stares at his younger cousin and Finn’s expression is slightly more readable than yours, and it just made his presence seem more than hated around the small table.

“We’ll be hosting an event in a few days” Tommy starts, breaking your staring contest before it evolved into anything, “In 12 days to be exact. Y/N, you would be in charge of the whole organization, from the dancers to the inside of my house”

“Dancers?” You ask, lifting your glance over to Tommy.

“Oswald Mosley will be our special guest, as you know very well” He explains, “And he has his attraction for ballet dancers. I’ll give you my contacts for everything that will be necessary”

You nod at his words, already knowing the long list that will be awaiting you, from catering to setting up a team of dancers. You will have a lot to do. A lot more than you wished to.

You lose interest in the whole rest of Tommy’s speech, since you know all about it from previous conversations with him, and also that most of it is for Michael to keep up with where you’re situated, and you look around the table to study everyone’s expressions as they heard all Oswald has done or will do.

Finn is the first one to notice your disinterest in the conversation and tries to ignore it as he tries to memorize most of the information that is being dumped into this room. Michael is next: his eyes follow you as you look at Arthur for a second before looking down at your jacket, starting to play with a button attached to the fabric.

Once Tommy finishes a sentence and starts walking to some corner of the room to begin a new chapter about the day of the event, Michael is totally lost in his thoughts, noticing your now soft features from the lack of attention you’re paying to Tommy’s words.

His mind quickly takes him to where he had been fighting not to be ever since you two talked in the pub. Quite innocent memories of you two.

He studies your face in silence, noticing your slightly parted lips and his eyes drift over to your jaw, noticing a small scar, only visible from the lighting in this one particular room and the angle you’re sitting in.

The scar had come from one of your visits at a family’s home, a mother wasn’t too happy with your visit.

The lady screamed at the top of her lungs for you to leave while saying that her kids were okay, and when you just checking on her younger daughter, she slashed the side of your jaw. It was a quick move that you also flinched away when feeling it, making it smaller than the woman had intended, but it was bloody and surely a cut that would leave a scar.

The woman regrets it severely today, since you are extremely vengeful and experienced with knives.

You look up at Tommy, gaze softer than Michael expected, and you let go of the button from your, not so cheap, jacket.

Polly looks away from her nephew when he starts walking around the table and leans forward on the table to press her used cigarette on the ashtray, gathering both yours and Michael’s attention.

“And that is why we will be making our next move…” Tommy continues, not even noticing that most of the table is not even paying attention to him.

Finn lays his cheek on his fist as his elbow rests on the arm of your chair and you look over at him, taking a look at his messy hair. He must have woken up just a few minutes ago and ran over here, as usual.

Michael’s eyes shift over to Finn and stares at the way you look at the youngest in the room.

(…)

You lean back on your chair as Tommy walks out of the room to grab his ‘book’ with all the people you will need to contact. Finn had run off, to only god knows where, once the meeting was dismissed, so, now, you have to deal with the old people by yourself.

You bring your hands over your temples and start massaging them again, trying to stop the sharp pain before it got worse.

Michael and Polly look over at you for a quick second as they talk all the way back on the doorway of the shop.

“Arthur” You call, making the older man look up from the newspaper laying on the table at the centre, “What do you do to get rid of your headaches?”

“I have my ways”

You lift your head over to him with an annoyed expression.

“Care to elaborate?”

“Anything of mine can be healed by one of two things” he starts, getting Polly’s attention at the doorway, “More alcohol or snow-”

“Y/N is not doing cocaine!” Polly yells, making her voice travel throughout the whole room, making Arthur chuckle and your head pound.

You smile at them, trying not to wince in pain over the loud noise, and stare back at Polly, who is still finishing her conversation with Michael, which looks rather intense.

Tommy’s steps sound from behind you and a stack of papers is set on the table in front of you.

“Your contacts” Tommy says before clearing his throat.

You stare at the amount of phone numbers written down on the pages, all of them with the name of the person you’re intended to talk to and the name of the shop or residence.

“You can talk to Lizzie about most of the things you want to do in my home, but don’t worry too much about it” He says while taking a clean glass cup from the corner table and his bottled whiskey over to his seat.

“Alright” You say in a low voice, grabbing the stack and laying it on your lap to check if you knew some of the places.

“Y/N!” Polly calls over from the doorway, “Come with me!”

You stand up with the papers on your hand and say a quick goodbye to the oldest Shelby brothers, which you were answered with one back.

As you get to Polly and stand beside her by the front door, you notice Michael driving away in his car right as you look out.

“Let’s take care of that headache” Polly says before grabbing your hand and pulling you out of the betting shop with her.

(…)

“I love you, Polly, but it’s a ‘no’ from me” You say while writing down the amount of food the shop, whose owner you just spoke to, could provide.

It has been at least 2 days since that day of the meeting on the betting shop, and you’re still working with all those phone numbers, feeling like you’ll never reach the end of the list.

“Oh, and why is that?” Polly asks, adjusting the silk robe that hugged her body, covered by a thin expensive dress.

You sigh as you scribble your way to the next number on the long list.

“Because,” You start, “I don’t want to be stuck with their presence in a restaurant”

Polly looks at you with a disapproving look, but to no avail since you didn’t even care enough to look up from the papers you’ve been working on the whole day. She walks closer to you and sits down on the couch behind you, since you’re sitting on her carpet.

“Can’t you go, for me?” She asks with a soft tone, “You can ignore them all you want, I won’t care”

You put down your pen and look over your shoulder at her.

“If it was just us, absolutely” You say, “Without a second thought” You add.

Polly takes a deep breath and looks away from you to look at the papers, now filled with words and annotations of amounts of food, flowers and other decorations.

“Is there any way that I can make you go?” She asks, helpless, “Anything I can buy you? Cook or bake for you?”

“You can’t bake, Pol” You say with a smile growing on your face.

“I have my ways” She says, welcoming your smile.

“Are you referring to buying something of the bakery next to the Garrison?” You ask, making her smile drop and her annoyed expression return to her face.

“You used to love that shop”

“And I still do” You say, “But that isn’t enough to make me go through such a horror of a night”

Polly leans back on the couch, feeling like there’s absolutely no way that she will be able to bring you with her, but still not giving up to the fullest. Her mind is still occupied with what would be so good that it would make you want to run towards that restaurant.

Finn, surprisingly, is the first ‘thing’ that came up to mind, but Polly can’t just take the youngest boy, who seems to enjoy Michael’s company as much as you, to an expensive restaurant. Finn would break something expensive or hit Michael in only the first 5 minutes, and probably even at the same time.

She takes a look at you and how you were so quick to go back to work. You drag your tired eyes over the words to check if you didn’t forget to write something down and you grab the phone to contact the next number.

“What if I talked to Tommy so you could have a day off?” Polly asks before you could start dialling the number.

You stay silent, actually considering the offer. A day off is always accepted by you… but is it a fair trade?

“Let me have Friday off and we have a deal” You say.

Polly almost gasps in excitement at your words, while at the same time almost jumps forward to hug you.

She can’t believe that the offer of the having the day off would work, you usually enjoy working, but the more she thought about it, the more it made sense.

Finn always has his Friday’s off. How didn’t she think about this sooner?

“I’m going to start getting ready, then” Polly says excitingly with a big smile, while getting up from the couch behind you. “Try to not make us get there so late”

You smile at her words as she walks off to her bedroom and look down at the papers again.

A few more numbers wouldn’t hurt anyone, would they?

(…)

“I can’t believe we’re almost an hour late” Polly shakes her head while you two walk over to the restaurant’s door, “I told you to try to get ready quickly” She continues to scold.

You don’t react to the words much as your eyes look around the street, you were just out of Birmingham, which makes absolutely no sense why there would be a restaurant as busy as this one in the middle of nowhere.

You two step in the restaurant and your eyes almost widen at the inside.

While the outside of this place looks nothing like an expensive restaurant, the interior is just pure luxury.

Polly finishes her conversation with one of the waiters and you two start walking towards the table you were supposed to be sitting an hour ago.

Your eyes land on Michael and Gina, who are both staring at random objects around them.

“I’m so sorry for getting here so late” Polly apologizes while you stand silent behind her.

They are not getting an apology from you. No way in hell.

Their eyes lift over to you two and Gina gives a small (obviously fake) smile to Polly. The waiter puts down two other menus on the table as you move to take your seats.

Polly sits on front of Gina and you almost send her a glare as that meant that you need to sit right in front of Michael. You take off your jacket and lay it over the chair’s back before finally taking your seat.

“What took you so long?” Michael asks his mother, finally opening his mouth.

“Y/N forgot that she had to finish something for work at her office” Polly lies, giving her son a small smile.

She wouldn’t just bluntly say that you’re just a stubborn girl that enjoys seeing him in distress.

“Couldn’t she have finished it tomorrow?” Gina asks, sipping a bit of her wine.

You look up at her and give her your fakest smile.

“She is right here” You answer, making Gina look away from Polly and look at you with a rather shocked expression, “And no, it couldn’t be finished tomorrow”

“What was so urgent about that ‘something’?” Michael asks, making the three women look at him, “I’m sure Tommy wouldn’t care if you gave him anything the next day”

The urge to kick him under the table surges.

“You know how she is, Michael” Polly says with a friendly tone, “Y/N is all about being punctual at all times”

He doesn’t answer as he feels Gina’s gaze of confusion on him. How well does he know you? Was the question that replayed in Gina’s mind.

You lean back on your chair and notice Gina’s expression as if she is more than confused with Polly’s words.

Has Michael actually never said a word about you to her? You wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case. Michael has shown more and more how he simply runs away from his problems.

Oh, but you would pay well to see Gina’s reaction to everything you two have shared over your time as lovers.

Michael looks forward, noticing your gaze on Gina and he follows it, meeting his girlfriend’s eyes filled with confusion and slight annoyance over feeling ignored.

Polly ignores the exchange of looks between the trio and opens her menu, starting to read the name of each meal and what each one had.

“If you don’t mind me asking” Gina starts with a soft tone, “And I know that this will sound rude, but… What are you doing here?” She asks, directing her gaze towards you in the last words.

You open your mouth to talk but Polly is quick to answer for you, in fear that you would say something rude back.

“Y/N is like a daughter to me” She explains, making Gina seem even more confused about you.

“Is that since she started working for you?”

You can’t help but smile at how oblivious she is to everything, which is quite intriguing.

Poor thing probably doesn’t even know half of the truth.

“For me?” Polly asks, “For the Peaky Blinders, you mean?”

Gina nods.

“I believe you can say that” Polly says, looking towards you as if to check if you agree, but is met with your smile, making her a bit confused.

“Was that how you met Michael?” Gina asks, intrigued by the conversation, looking towards you.

Gina knew the answer. Michael had said a few days ago at dinner that when he had met you, you were too soft to be a Peaky Blinder.

She is just testing how the story connects on your ends.

“God no” Polly answers for you with a scoff.

Michael stares at the two women in front of him as if they were two bombs about to explode. How much of the truth could you spill before even ordering the food?

The answer is: a lot.

“Michael was the one that introduced her to us” Polly says with a smile as she looks over at her son, who did not smile back, only stared in silence.

“Oh really?” Gina asks, surprised, “Didn’t expect that”

Reality clicked on Polly’s mind as those words aligned with everything that has been asked until now. Her son had lied about you. You. The girl she had welcomed in her arms when he broke her. When Michael, her son, broke: You.

Now she understood your amusement to the whole situation, but she did not imitate it to the slightest. This just infuriated her to the maximum level.

“Had Michael never spoke about Y/N to you?” She asks, opening another door into this conversation.

“No” Gina answers sincerely, “Not until we all had that meeting in that pub, if I remember correctly”

At least that’s the only day he gave her actual answers. He didn’t even answer one of her questions on the day that Polly mentioned you at the train station.

“Interesting” She answers while sending a glare towards her son.

“How so?”

You pull the menu off Polly’s hands to check it while still having the malicious smile on your lips, and Michael’s eyes move over to you, noticing your amusement for the first time.

You look back at him when feeling his stare and your smile gets bigger when noticing his expression.

Michael Gray is scared. How fascinating.

“What’s wrong, Michael?” You ask, looking back down at the menu, “You look a little stressed”

Michael hears your words, letting his mind admire the way his name rolled off your tongue as it did years back, until he remembers that he needs to give you an answer.

“Nothing’s wrong”

You nod at his words and Gina ignores your small interaction to look at Polly.

“What is so wrong of Michael not telling me about Y/N, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Yeah, mom. What’s so wrong about that?” Michael asks, finally entering the conversation.

Polly sighs lightly.

“Nothing is wrong about what you did or didn’t do” Polly says, talking directly to her son, “I just find it extremely hard to believe it, as well as, highly surprising”

“Her existence just isn’t important in my conversations with Gina” He shrugs.

“You know very well that I’m not talking about her existence” Polly says with a disapproving tone, “Gina deserved to at least know something. Especially when you are coming into this place acting like you didn’t do anything wrong”

Your smile falls off your face and so does your rather amused look, it got replaced by a quite serious and broken one.

You lower your eyes to the words written on the menu and continue to act as if you were reading.

Michael bites his tongue and looks away from his mom, almost as if her words wounded him.

Both of your chests moved up and down rapidly as you let out heavy breaths, trying to get control back of your body and mind.

Your minds match the speed of how memories and thoughts passed through, making the situation worsen.

A man stands beside you, making Gina and Polly look up at him.

“What will you be having tonight?”

(…)

You turn the ring on your finger as Polly talks with the waiter about what kind of deserts they have and try to think about something more entertaining.

Gina listens to their conversation silently, since she’s interested in something sweet, while leaning her head over Michael’s shoulder.

You sigh out loud while letting go of the golden ring and scratch the back of your neck.

“I think I’m going home early” You whisper to Polly after leaning closer to her, making her stop talking to look at you.

“Are you okay?” She asks sweetly, with a concerned expression.

“Of course,” You offer a quick smile, “I’m just exhausted, and I need to work tomorrow morning”

You don’t care enough to look at the couple in front of you while getting up from your chair. You throw your long jacket over your shoulders and slide your arms into the sleeves.

“I’ll see you tomorrow” You whisper to Polly, who answers you with a tight smile.

You ignore the couple’s stare and walk off to the front door of the restaurant.

As you wish a goodnight to the workers at the front of the building, Polly sighs when realizing that you must be planning on walking home.

“Fuck” She whispers to herself.

“What?” Michael asks, noticing her concern.

“Y/N is walking home” She says while fighting her urge to roll her eyes in annoyance at herself for forgetting, “You two finish your meal, I’ll go take her home”

As Polly apologizes to the waiter and moves her chair back to stand but Michael is quicker.

“I’ll take her” He says, standing quickly, almost forgetting that Gina’s head was leaning on his shoulder, “You two eat your desserts”

Polly thanks him but as soon as she finishes the sentence, Michael was already out of the door of the restaurant with his jacket in hand.

He stares into one of the sides of the lonely and dark road and looks for you, but you are nowhere to be seen. He turns to the other side and sees you walking off while lighting a cigarette.

“Y/N!” He shouts while walking in quick pace towards you, “Wait up!”

You turn to see who is the crazy man that’s screaming at you and once you do it, you quickly wish you didn’t when you notice Michael running towards you.

“What are you doing?” You ask with the rudest tone you could pull off.

“My mom told me to take you home”

“Well, tell her that I’m grown enough to walk myself home” You scoff, “Go back inside”

He ignores your words and grabs your wrist, pulling you towards the parking lot. You scowl while looking at the back of his head and you can’t help but swear at him in your mind.

You yank your arm back as you reach the car and Michael unlocks the doors.

(…)

Three quarters into the drive you noticed you started wishing to be walking home for the 40th time. Not only was the silence between you uncomfortable enough to make you want to run away, the lack of communication was just the worst of it all.

You still feel very much affected by the beginning of your dinner, which just adds up to the built-up emotions you are hiding from him.

You wake up from your thoughts as Michael parks his car in front of your house and you are quick to try and jump out of the car right in that second.

“Thank you for not telling Gina anything” Michael says, making stop on your moves to look at him.

“What?”

“You could’ve told everything to Gina at the restaurant, but you didn’t. Thank you”

You stay still for at least one good minute and don’t say anything, until you let out a scoff while looking at him dumbfounded.

“You have some fucking nerve” You laugh while nodding, acknowledging the stupidity in his words. “I didn’t do that for you”

You open the door and jump out of the car before he could say anything.

You slam it, just to give your words a little more character, but you tense up in your steps as you hear his door opening as well.

“Oh really? Then why didn’t you tell her then?” He asks, in a loud tone over the distance already between you, “You could’ve ruined me and my relationship right there and then, but you didn’t. Why didn’t you?”

“Because!” You shout while turning around, “You don’t even deserve that from me! You can live your shit relationship filled with lies all you want, Michael, I don’t give enough of a fuck to destroy that for you”

“Seriously?” He asks, walking over to you, “Then why in the fuck did you act all affected by the sight of us together?”

“Are you serious?” You ask, again, dumbfounded by his words, “I’m not affected by your relationship! I’m affected at the mention of what you did TO ME!” You shout at the top of your lungs your last words.

The words echo through your street and Michael’s breathing heavies.

“All of this is because I left you?”

You scoff and turn to walk to your door, ignoring his steps behind you as your chin starts to shake and your eyes to water.

You’re able to unlock your door and slide in your house, but Michael’s foot stops it from closing on his face.

“We’re not done with our conversation” He says while forcing your door open.

You let go of the door, stripping your jacket as you walk to the living room and you try to get hold of your emotions as the tears try to spill over your cheeks.

“Just leave, Michael” You say with a calmer tone, while throwing the jacket to the side, to the couch’s back.

“You hate me this much because I left you?” He ignores what you preciously said.

“Yes” You say, still not looking at him, “Now, can you leave me alone?”

“No” He says, and you hear your front door finally close, meaning that he’s planning in staying for a little bit more time that you wished.

“Michael, please” You say, finally turning around.

Michael looks up at you and frowns a bit at the sight of your red watery eyes and you biting the inside of your cheek.

“Just leave me alone” You plead, this time, “I don’t care for your relationship, for what you do with your life, or what you wish to do with Gina after leaving Birmingham, just please. Leave my house”

“I’m sorry for what I did” He says, a way softer tone than before.

“You aren’t sorry”

“I am”

“No, you are not!” You scream again, making him flinch slightly, “If you were sorry, that apology would’ve been the first thing you told me when we first saw each other. But no, you just decided to rub in the scar how you moved on and got yourself a girlfriend that COULD BE FUCKING PREGNANT!”

Michael looks down at the floor and a sob leaves your mouth. You lay your hand over your mouth to hide the incoming whimpers and sobs.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you as much as I did” He admits.

“No, you didn’t” You agree, “You just wanted me to end that call and live a happy life, right?”

“Yes, actually”

“Well, sorry to inform you, Michael Gray, but that is not how love works” You say, voice cracking at the end, “And anyone with a least 2 braincells would know that”

He stays silent again, leaning over your couch’s back, eyes on the ground as if he’s thinking on what to say next.

“Just tell me one last thing. Why did you do it?” You ask, harshly wiping the tears off your cheeks.

Michael shakes his head, not knowing what to say to you. His chest aches at the sound of your words heavy with sadness and heartbreak, but he swallows the emotions away.

“I don’t know why I did it,” He admits, “It was stupid of me and I regretted it right away”

You grab something on the table beside you and throw it at him.

“STOP FUCKING LYING TO ME!” You shout as Michael ducks under the flying plate that shattered on the wall behind him.

“I am not lying!” He assures, “I am not fucking lying! It hurt me to do that to you and I wanted to call back and apologize, but-”

“But you’re too big of a coward to do it” You finish, “You don’t have the right to come to me and act like you left that conversation hurt like I did, Michael. You didn’t, and you should admit it to yourself���

“You’re right, I shouldn’t be doing this. But what I’m saying is true”

“Even if it is, Michael” You say, walking over closer to him, “That just shows how much of a coward you are. You regretted it, yet you were too big of a cunt to not call back and admit that you were wrong. Your pride was bigger than the pain you felt for what you did. And you only realize it now, almost 2 years later”

You’re right, more than right, you’re spot on, and Michael’s silence just confirmed it for you.

“You broke me to feel 5 seconds of pride of being a single independent man, to then realize that you’re no man at all” You say, mouth full of hatred and arrogance, “That is what you’re sorry about”

“No, that’s not true” He says, standing back on his feet and walking towards you.

“How come?”

“I am sorry for breaking your heart the way I did” He says, “And I am sorry for realizing it so late. I did not mean to ever do this much damage”

You don’t answer, feeling too tired to do it.

“Y/N, please!” He pleads, “God damn it, I am sorry that I did this to you! Please, at least, give us a change to talk this through and understand each other’s side”

“No”

“Pleas-”

“No, Michael! How can you even ask that?” You ask, frowning at him, “Is this all an act to you? You’re acting like I’m so special to you, yet you talked about me in that dinner as I was a simple girl that you met just before leaving for America”

“I never meant it like that”

“Fuck you, Michael. Fuck you and your ‘I didn’t mean to’’s” You say, “Do yourself a favour and leave before you let anymore shit come out of that mouth”

“Y/N-”

“What, Michael? What do you wish to say next?” You ask, almost screaming again, “Are you-”

“Just let me speak for a second!” He shouts, shutting you up, “Gina is the only person I’ve ever talked about you that way. Ever! I just told her that because I was scared of ruining my relationship with her”

“Then just leave, she isn’t here. She’s waiting for you at the restaurant. If she truly is the person that you care for the most, then leave!”

“I don’t care about her, right now” He says loudly, “I’m trying to show you that I still care for you, Y/N. Please, just let me fix this”

“It’s a little too late for that” You say before turning your back to him and walking towards the kitchen.

“Why?”

You turn back to him.

“Because YOU MOVED ON, MICHAEL!” You add, “That is what is hurting your case! How can you still continue to say that you still care for me and that you went through a lot of pain after that call, when you moved on?”

“I moved on to deal with my pain!”

“Just leave”

“Y/N-”

“Leave! Get out of my house, Michael! You have done enough damage already, don’t make it worse. Please!”

Michael shuts his mouth and nods at your words.

“Okay” He whispers.

He turns around and walks past the broken plate on the ground before opening the front door and slamming it on his way out.

You let out a loud sob and you don’t care enough to cover your mouth this time, letting your knees lose their strength and bring you down to the hard cold ground, as you cried in desperation of what just happened.

As your breathing quickens and your sobs get even more uncontrollable, you crawl your way to the house phone, dialling a very familiar number.

“Hello?” Finn’s groggy voice, probably from sleeping, sounds on your ear.

You sniffle and clear your throat before speaking.

“Can you come over?” You ask, your voice cracking at the small question and the memories it brings you, “I need you, right now”

“I’m on my way”

- - - - - - -

This ending hurt to write, ngl.

Taglist:  @ohhersheybars​ @woodland-mist​ @onlythechicagoway​ @soleil-dor​ @finn-shelbys-bulldog​ @oh-theres-a-woman​ @peakyxtommy​ @ms-reader​ @beautycinders​ @lovemissyhoneybee​ @graceedwards​ @jadesbabylon​ @marvelismylifffe​ @peakascum​ @shanetoo​ @hufflemendes​ @cherrytop02​ @http-cherries​ @burnitup​ @livingforbarnes​

If you wish to be a part of my taglist, DM me or leave a comment on this post.

[justanotherblonde]

Hi! 47, 38, 17 🙂

hello, my dear! these are some good ones!

47. how many unfinished ideas/stories are you working on at the same time?

hehe, it depends on the "season," but it seems that it's now my habit to have anywhere from three to five unfinished things actively going at once. right now, that pile is ridiculous cuz i started a whole bunch of things for a couple different events year that i've been chipping away at... let's see... right now i'm actively working on 1) Naruto Calendar submission; 2) witch!Sasori smut chapter; 3) Watercolored (SasoSai) last chapter; 4) and my original novel project that i'm adding to for NaNoWriMo. on top of that, there's still--on the suuuuper faraway back burner--- 5) Come What May (SasoSan ballet AU); 6) chapter 2 of the katsudon AU (SasoDei, shop owner); 7) whatever the next arc of A Lifetime of Moments is... aaaaaand 8) the smol!Sasori & android!Sasori epic sci-fi adventure!!

god help me i do not need any more new ideas... squints at the approaching SasoDei Week in Feb 2022...

38. do you reread your own stories?

yessss i'm so GLAD you asked this!! because the answer is YES. rather often, actually... some of them are just so nice, and put me in a good mood. a couple that i often revisit are It's Valentine's Day, Stupid (SasoDei), Drawn (SasoSai) and Conquest of Spaces (SasoDei)... wait this list is just gonna end up growing til i've listed them all, isn't it...

17. favorite AU to write

this is another one of those 'favourite child' questions. i have a few. being as unspecific as possible, i like sci-fi AUs, so my top fav is probably the cyberpunk one with Sasori, Konan and Deidara. being more specific, i love the 'rich artist' world of Drawn and Watercolored (SasoSai), and the ballet AU (SasoSan) because i lived and breathed ballet for a good 20 years of my life, and writing the fic lets me relive it, all the pain and glory...

THANK YOU SO MUCH!! 💖💖💖💖💖💖✨✨✨✨✨✨

[katymacsupernatural]

The Proposal Chapter 3

Jensen Ackles x Reader

Story Summary: Jensen needs help keeping his life in order. To keep the media off his back. In order to do so, he comes up with a plan. Y/N, just a producer’s assistant, is pulled in to play a part she never thought she would have. Jensen’s fiancee. Only will it stay as a part to play, or will she start to want more?

Catch Up Here: Masterpost

Warnings: N/A

wonderful header made by @impala-dreamer​

You were torn. Sure, you trusted Ruth, and wanted her opinion. But this was still something new, and secretive. If you told her, and it leaked out, what would that mean for you?

“Can we just go shopping?” You offered a weak smile. She nodded, and you were relieved when she dropped the subject. 

Twenty minutes later Ruth was pulling in front of this nondescript brick building. The long windows were filled with various mannequins, all dressed in vintage and funky clothing. The parking lot had only two other cars in it, and you turned to Ruth with a questioning eye.

“I promise, it looks better on the inside,” she promised, dragging you inside. Immediately bypassing the cheap t-shirts and jeans, she headed to the corner of the store. You followed closely behind, glancing at the clothes, amazed at the selection. Sure, there were the usual ripped t-shirts and stained jeans. But the majority of the clothes were well cared for. Many were items you wanted to purchase and wear to work. 

“Here we are,” Ruth announced, sweeping her hand out. The back corner of the store seemed to be a store in its own. An archway covered in fairy lights set the area away from the rest. Inside were rows of dresses, skirts, and blouses. Shoes and jewelry were craftily arranged on the other side.

“What is this place?” You asked, gently running a silky sleeve through your hand, gasping at the price tag. “This is only twelve dollars!”

Ruth smiled knowingly, plucking a green jumpsuit from the rack and holding it in front of her. “This is the best-kept secret in Vancouver. A wardrobe lady told me about it, and I make sure to stop by at least once a week when I’m up here.”

You were mesmerized by the selection, but Ruth was on a mission. “I know you said it’s strictly business, but it is with Jensen. That man always shows up in his best, and no doubt expects you to as well. We need to stun the man.”

She had a pile of clothes in her hand before you even had one picked, ushering you to the dressing room. “Here, try these on.” She insisted.

The first thing she had picked out was a skirt and matching top, both a slinky, silver. They were soft against your skin but seemed more suited for the club than a dinner. Tossing them to the side, you pulled out the next dress. It was short, barely mid-thigh, a straight cut of turquoise. It was pretty, but as you stepped out to show Ruth, you kept tugging on the hem, trying to lower it.

“Hmm, not yet,” she muttered, ushering you back into the room.

The third dress was more of a sundress. It was strapless, with a tight bodice and a skirt that flared slightly all the way to your knees. It was a shimmery blue that changed to purple or silver with your movements. It was elegant without being too much.

You stepped out in front of the mirror and immediately Ruth clapped her hands together. “I knew that one would be perfect. Absolutely stunning my dear.”

Taking a deep breath, you glanced down at the sales tag. “It’s only $30!” You exclaimed. With that price, you could get shoes and maybe even a necklace. 

She nodded knowingly. “Come, let’s find some shoes.”

An hour later you were back at your apartment, your purchases placed carefully on your bed, waiting for you to get dressed. You had taken a shower and was currently in the middle of applying makeup when your phone rang.

Hello?” You answered, placing the phone on speaker. 

“Y/N!” Your brother, Luke, exclaimed. 

“Hey Luke,” You sighed, almost messing up your mascara as you smiled at the sound of his voice. “What’s up? You never call on Fridays.”

“I miss you,” he whispered, breaking your heart. 

Setting your makeup down, you put all of your concentration on the phone call. “Luke, I miss you too buddy.”

His bubbly little voice had you homesick. “They’ve been so mean to me,” he continued to whisper. “Y/N, they won’t let me play baseball this year. They said it was too expensive. But they let Emily do ballet, and that cost more.”

“You know our Aunt and Uncle are doing the best they can,” You tried assuring him. “And I’m sure there’s another reason…,”

“I want to come live with you!” He insisted. “When Y/N? You promised!”

“Soon buddy, I promise,” you assured him, knowing that with the check from this fake engagement you were no longer lying. It was so close to becoming a reality. “I just need to save up a little more, and then I can fight our aunt and uncle for your guardianship.” 

“I can’t wait,” he sighed. 

As much as you wanted to continue talking to your brother, you were already running behind schedule. “Talk tomorrow?” You offered.

After a half-hearted okay, you hung up, a tear slipping down your cheek. It was so hard, being separated from your little brother after your parents had died. But soon, maybe all of that would change. As soon as this fake engagement was over at least.

Taking a deep breath you finished your makeup, changing into that perfect little dress, and the heels that Ruth had found. Making your way to the parking lot, you knew your little ford escort would look so out of place at that fancy restaurant. Which is exactly how you had a feeling you would feel. 

Forcing yourself to move forward, you settled in behind the wheel, heading towards the coast. You turned the music up loud, singing along as you fought rush hour traffic. Swerving in and out of the slow-moving vehicles, you finally snitched a parking spot off to the side with two minutes to spare. 

The place was already packed. Smoothing down your skirt as you moved, you stepped up to the hostess. “Reservation for Jensen Ackles,” you announced. Her eyes widened, staring at you in surprise before pointing to the back. 

“You���re here...with..,” she stuttered, stepping aside so you could pass. Smiling at her, you headed to his secluded table. He was staring down at the menu, his thumb rubbing up and down the neck of a beer bottle. 

He had dressed up nicely, just as Ruth had said he would. A black button-up underneath a grey sports suit. He looked extremely handsome, and you stopped in your tracks, wondering what the hell you were doing. There was no way anyone would believe that this man would be madly in love with a girl like you. 

Read Chapter 4

Dean/Jensen Tags: @acortez82​​ @acreativelydifferentlove​​ @adoptdontshoppets​​ @a-girl-who-loves-disney​​ @akshi8278​​   @bi-danvers0​​  @cap-just-said-language​​ @colette2537​​   @deansgirl215​​  @flamencodiva​​ @hamiltrash1411​​ @its-not-a-tulpa​​ @jerkbitchidjitassbutt​​ @justanotherwinchester​​ @just-another-winchester​​ @karouwinchester​​ @keikoraventeller​​  @krys198478​​ @librarygeekery​​ @magssteenkamp​​ @misspygmypie​​ @mlovesstories​​ @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk​​  @mrspeacem1nusone​​ @nothinbuttrouble2​​ @ria132love​​ @ruprecht0420​​  @screechingartisancashbailiff​   @sortaathief​​ @superseejay721517​​ @squirrelnotsam​​ @team-free-will-you-idjiot​​ @thing-you-do-with-that-thing​​ @torn-and-frayed​​ @tricksterdean​​ @wonderfulworldofwinchester​​ @woodworthti666​​

The Proposal Tags: @supraveng​ @vicmc624​ @lottieellz101 @impala-dreamer​ @maddiepants​ @emilyshurley​ @tonystark-makes-me-cry​ @starryeyeseunbyul​  @rach-12​ @spnfamily-j2​ @ima-be-a-mongoose​ @flamencodiva​ @compresshischest09​

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[krsnbgirl]

Fly High! || Kageyama x Fem!Reader || Part 5.5

Summary: You head to Ukai’s store to have a conversation. He learns about some of your past and what your future goals were before coming to Karasuno. You both also come up with some new ideas that can help during practice. 

Pairing: Kageyama Tobio x Fem!Reader

Genre: Rom-Com, Slice of Life, Sports

Warnings: Ukai smokes a cigarette (?)

Chapter’s Word Count: ~1.4k

Author’s Note: Side chapter to learn a little bit more of your past as a volleyball player and some of your new responsibilites as their manager! It’s just a cute little small thing I decided to write to help with the context of the story. Hope you guys like it! <3 Part 6 should be up by the end of this week! 

Taglist: @misnmatchedsox​ @monviemoo​ @love-beyond-words​

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 5.5 || Part 6 || Masterlist

It was a cool morning when you waved goodbye to your mom and skateboarded towards Sakanoshita. The temperature was just right and with the weekend in full effect, the streets were bustling with families and friends enjoying their time off. You smiled to yourself as you turned the corner and cruised through different alleyways to cut the time from being on the main streets. It felt nice to finally have a clear mind and a set goal for yourself. For the longest time, it was as if the path in front of you was endless. Whenever you thought about volleyball, flashbacks of your last game constantly plagued your mind. But recently, thanks to all your new friends, your mind was filled with all the new memories you were able to make with the sport. Just like how Tanaka and Nishinoya would always fanboy over Shimizu and you would have to be the one to drag them away from her. Moments with your fellow first years: Hinata always coming into your classroom to hang out with you, Yamaguchi and Tsukishima grouping up with you during free periods to go over the class material, and Kageyama constantly asking you for critiques whenever you helped him practice with Hinata. Sugawara would always check in on you to make sure that you were keeping up with school and Daichi would check in to make sure that you were having your meals. Asahi would try his best to help you with carrying the water if Shimizu was busy with Takeda and Ukai, reassuring you that it wasn’t a hassle and that it was his way of hanging out with you during school hours. 

You smiled to yourself and leaned your head back, enjoying the warm sun rays that were beaming down on you. It was a blessing in disguise to be dragged into their world, no your world, once again. You had missed the feeling of the ball in your hands and feeding off of the hunger and determination that radiated off of the players in the gym. The new found warmth you felt whenever you were with them felt like a new beginning for you. And maybe that’s what you’ve been needing for the longest time: a clean slate from your past and a fresh mind to fall in love with the sport all over again. Stretching your arms, you hummed your favorite song and smiled widely when you saw the store’s front right in front of you. 

Skidding to a stop, you kicked your board into your arms before going into the store. You passed by the aisles to try and find Ukai, but he was nowhere to be found. With a shrug, you set your skateboard on top of one of the empty tables and decided to pick out some snacks. 

“Oi Coach! Where are you?” you asked as you skimmed the shelves of chips in front of you. 

“In the back! I’ll be right out, kid!” he yelled back. 

“Osu~” you replied back and grabbed your favorite bag of chips before heading towards the refrigerated section in the front. 

As you grabbed a cold bottle of Ramune, Ukai emerged from the back room and ruffled your hair. 

“Thanks for coming out kid, I know this isn’t your ideal way of spending your weekend, but I needed your help with the boys.” he said as he grabbed his notebook and pen from behind the counter. 

You smiled and waved it off. “It’s fine, coach. I’m glad I can help.” 

The two of you sat down at the table and you set your skateboard on the floor. You leaned against the back of the chair and crossed one leg over the other as he mirrors your actions with his arms cross against his chest. 

“(L/N) (F/N). Chidoriyama’s infamous female wing spiker and pinch server. Currently on hiatus due to a torn ACL.”

You chuckled and raised an eyebrow at the older man. “Yes, that is I.” 

“How did you get into volleyball?” 

“My dad; he used to play during his high school and university days. When I was younger, they wanted to figure out what kind of extracurricular activity to put me in. My mom put me in dance while my dad put me in volleyball. I didn’t like how stuck up the kids in my ballet class were, so I dropped it and just had more fun with volleyball.” 

“And how long have you been playing?” 

You grabbed your chips and opened the bag. Ukai shook his head when you offered him some and you shrugged before answering. 

“Hm...probably since I was like six or seven? My dad started off with just receiving and then when I got good at that, he taught me serving before putting me in weekend classes.” 

“That’s a long time kid, I’ve seen some of your plays recently and I can see you be a lot of help with the team. Well, that is until you’re ready to personally become a part of the girl’s team.” 

“The girl’s team?” you asked more to yourself then towards him as you munched on some of the chips. 

“C’mon, I’m assuming you’ve dreamt about making it big. It’s just a matter of time until your body is back in top shape.” 

“Coach, I barely told you last night that I agreed to be manager. Let’s take it one step at a time, alright?” you laughed and he sheepishly smiled back at you. 

“Yeah, you’re right, sorry I was getting ahead of myself.” Ukai laughed and then cleared his throat. “So what do you think of the boys so far?” 

“Hm…” you started as you tried to gather your thoughts and opened your bottle of Ramune. “I think they’re okay so far. Some of them still need to improve on their receives, Kags and Shoyo still need to improve on their quick combo, and overall the team dynamic needs to improve. We just need to nitpick and note down the smaller aspects of it for their next training camp.” 

“True, that’s what I began to notice as well. We can start off with different drills and solidify on the current struggles for now. Then after the camp we can get down to the finer details.” 

You nodded your head in agreement and said, “Yeah, that sounds like a solid plan for now.” 

He sighed in relief and relaxed in his chair. “Thank god you’re here, kid. It gets stressful sometimes being the only one coming up with plays.” 

You laughed as Ukai’s typical grumpy face relaxed and got up to toss your trash away. “No prob, coach. Glad I can use my expertise again.” 

“Ah, that reminds me, I need you to come up with different plays the boys can try out. I want to add more towards the second year since we’ve been focusing too much more with our starting lineup.” Ukai said as rested his arms behind his neck. 

“You got it coach.” you smiled at him and gave him the ‘okay’ sign. He watched as you picked up your board and motioned towards the door. 

“Well if that’s all you needed…” 

“Ah, wait!” he said while getting up from his seat and went towards the counter. He rummaged around for a paper bag and grabbed the tongs that was hanging off the handle of the heater for his family’s infamous buns. 

“Compensation for coming out today. Your snacks are also on the house.” he cheekily smiled. 

You gasped and smiled excitedly, jogging towards the counter and watched him fill up the bag. 

“What was your next goal if you weren’t injured?” he asked. 

You played with one of the wheels of your board and pursed your lips. “I...was supposed to go to Niyama High with my libero and captain.” 

“Niyama?! Why didn’t you follow through?” 

Silently, you motioned towards your knee as your expression deadpanned. 

“Oh, right.” 

You rolled your eyes and smirked. “C’mon coach, don’t tell me you’re getting old already and having short term memory.” 

He clicked his tongue and whacked you on the head with the rolled up newspaper by the cashier. You laughed and grabbed the bag he slid towards you. 

“You know I’m kidding, but anyways, it’s as cliché as it can be. I needed a fresh start and Yu-nii suggested I go to Karasuno. He’d show me the ropes and I’ll be on my merry way.” 

“Would you ever consider transferring back?” he asked as he lazily sat down on his chair behind the counter and took out a cigarette. 

You immediately shook your head as you made your way towards the door. He lit it up and blew some out, settling into his usual routine at the store. 

“Nah, the team is family now. So that means Karasuno is my home. But don’t tell the boys I told you that.” you smirked before saluting at the older man and exited the store. 

[longstoryshortikilledhim]

5 Fics and Why I Loved Writing Them

rules: it’s time to love yourselves! choose your 5 (or so) favourite works that you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. tag as many writers/artists/etc as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works.

tagged by @empirics whose fics are so beautiful they’ll make you cry with joy. 

1. Latent Heat with @heyktula modern AU, Joplittle, summer romance, beach cottage core Edward Little is a hockey player. Thomas Jopson is a ballet dancer. Their worlds collide one summer. 

we wanted to write a post-canon joplittle fic set in modern times: a story where edward have already left thomas, and where they go from there. collabing with ktula is always a special treat: they make me up my game and our mindmeld is truly special. they helped me unearth the vulnerability i needed for writing this fic. while it deals with very serious issues, it’s a light read. i love going back to it for comfort. 

2. Cold Sweat Victorian, Joplittle, monster hunter AU, lightcore horror i wanted to write something on brand: atmospheric, gothic, imaginative. the inspiration for this story hit me like a train. i wrote it in a feverish frenzy. i’m incredibly honoured that the visuals were strong enough to inspire artists in the fandom! 

3.  Happily Ever Before modern AU, Joplittle, slow burn, rom-com 

i have no idea how i pulled it off - 38k in a month. i just really wanted to tell this story once i got the idea in my head, inspired by an amazing prompt. i wanted to do something fun and feel-good. as edward is our narrator, anxiety features heavily, but it was important to me to show that even if you feel imperfect, you are loveable. 

4. What a Wicked Thing to Do  Victorian, Fitzier, pre-canon, fantasy/horror elements

so. i wrote this fic as a hail mary. i was deadly afraid for doing a/b/o in terror, no matter how heavily i subverted the trope: it felt like sacrilege to go with this trope in a Serious Historical Fandom. writing this fic taught me that the terror fandom values creative freedom over all else; it has been a truly liberating experience. also, this fic let me experiment with some horror elements i really enjoy. this is very much a badly disguised werewolf fic. 

5. Darling, Dearest, Dead Victorian, canon compliant, Joplittle, tragic romance saving the best for last...? at least, i uh. i think this fic is my magnum opus. like if you only read one fic by me, make it this one, please. it’s far from perfect -- i messed up some historical details, and the uneven chapter lengths feel weird. but this is how i wrote my way into joplittle, a ship that came to define my year. it also let me write a love-letter to the show, because it closely follows the plot (without retelling it.) it has my favourite fix-it scenario (which would be a spoiler) and i really enjoyed the stylistic experimentation that felt necessary to do an edward little deep pov. 

if you read this far or you just scrolled down, you’re tagged. show me your art, your playlists, your fic, your meta, your best gifts.   

[thesimperiuscurse]

ALL OF THEM. For Eva

🍁 Where does your OC go when they need to have some time to themselves? Would they ever have their own “comfort corner” filled with all the things they like? Do they have a favourite spot outside that feels like its theirs and theirs alone?

Eva rarely seeks time alone. Her profession means that much of her time is dedicated to working by herself, but she’s very much extroverted and prefers to be in the lively company of loved ones. If she’s in distress, her first reaction is to reach out for her family, especially her mother Cherry, which is where she finds the most comfort. There are many places she loves in the wilds of California, and the ocean is where she can always find peace, but even then she doesn’t feel like there’s a spot where she can be truly alone—the birds and deer and the murmuring of trees are as conversational company as any. 

🍂 Does your OC enjoy hugs? What do they do as a show of affection for: their friends, their family, their significant other(s) or for strangers? Over all what are they like with receiving affection from others?

Although in the professionalism of ballet she comes off as a steely and work-obsessed person, she’s cuddly with those she trusts. She gives hugs freely to all her friends and family, who in general are openly affectionate, so that’s just the way she grew up. Her ‘love language’ is physical affection. 

🌻 What little things do they notice about people or the world around them that make them happy? What tiny little treasures do they find in the normal every day that makes the world seem a little brighter for them?

She finds an infinite number of beautiful and simple things in nature—the blueness of the sky, the smell of the earth after rain, the soft whisper of the ocean washing back and forth across sand. Living in the city only amplifies her senses in picking out the tiny signs of emerald life amongst the hard urbanscape. She is far less likely to notice such little things of beauty in people, because frankly she cares more about nature than humanity, but that is until she met Mako. She notices more tiny details about him than she'd care to admit, like the way he always blushes when she says something nice to him, or how his dimples twinkle whenever he’s happy. 

🌾 Describe your OC through the eyes of someone absolutely head-over-heels in love with them.

There’s a radiance to her that feels like the golden summer sun, the dawn that rises from every night, breathtaking; she has an infectious energy and unabashed joy that has the extraordinary ability to bring smiles to people’s faces, far more than she realises; an open kindness and gentleness to her touch unlike anyone else; life, passion, freedom, love, strength, beauty, courage, light, everything that he is not. 

💐 How does your OC handle being unwell or forced to rest in bed? Who cares for them and in what ways? Does your OC enjoy being doted on or are they a terrible patient? Reversed: is your OC good at taking care of others who are ill or in need?

She hates being sick. Anything that slows her down, brings her below her painstakingly achieved peak athletic performance, frustrates her greatly. She rarely catches trivial illnesses like colds due to her hardened immune system, but when she injured her Achilles Heel the previous year, she was forced to stop dancing and rest, which she handled really badly. Her temper dropped sharply to the point of lashing out. In terms of taking care of other people, she doesn’t consider herself as a particularly tender and gentle care-giver (her mom and sister Fawn are the fussy doters in the family) but later on she may surprise herself. 

🌿 What way does your OC show that they care without using words? What way do others show your OC that they’re cared about without using speech?

Eva does have trouble articulating her feelings through words (at least, in an eloquent way) so she almost always communicates love through physical touch. This ranges from absentminded fingertip-brushes and shoulder bumps to baby koala cuddling. In reverse, Mako also has difficulty with verbal expression (though for another reason than being linguistically challenged) and over the past few chapters has been slowly learning how to return affection in their own wordless language. 

🌳 What is your OC’s favourite way to relax after a stressful day? Do they have a favourite book to curl up with? A hobby? Or do they have a nice bubble bath and have an early night to bed?

Almost every day is physically stressful for her, because dancing up to eight hours on end really does a number on her legs. As both the Nationals and academy production draws closer, she has to spend more time on caring for her health, so in the final hour of each night she relaxes with an ice bath for her calves and a long shower, soothing balms massaged into her muscles followed by heat packs, precious time chatting with her family, and then conks right out to sleep.  

🌲 How deeply does your OC feel? Are they typically empathetic or do they have a hard time connecting with others in this way? What are they like when offering support and comfort to someone they care for?

Eva is deeply empathetic, even more than Misha. She is capable of absorbing and feeling emotions as viscerally as if they were her own, which stems from her growing up amongst nature, listening deeply to all the movements and patterns of the earth. However, unlike Misha, she doesn’t have the social intelligence / self awareness to always understand the emotions or control her reactions to them. Her tunnel vision can mean that she’s often too preoccupied with herself to notice what's going on with other people. Her sympathy also has a very short rein. 

🌺 What does your OC do to calm down when they’re scared or after a nightmare? Do they have any special comfort items or need to be reassured by a specific person? How do they handle this if they’re alone?

She’s not a fearful person and never gets nightmares, but there are occasional times when she can get extremely stressed due to complications in ballet. Again, she’s always reassured by her parents. Since she’s a bit far away from them now, the steady quiet of her partner is a calming influence. She’s never been alone in her life, so in that case... we shall see. 

🥀 How would your OC decorate a notebook or journal? What kind of things are written in there? Could you give an example of a nice entry?

She doesn’t have the patience to keep a journal. Tried once when she was a kid, kept it for three days, and never touched it again. 

🌼 Who are this characters friends and found family? How did they meet, how long have they been friends for, could they ever be something more than just friends? What do they look for in a friend or a romantic partner?

Her best friends are Mako, Sasha, Piper, and Misha, and they’ve all been a tight-knit group of friends for one semester now. They are actually her first close friends out of her extended family, because her competitive nature and differences from ballet traditions always made her a bit of a loner, despite her natural friendliness. In the professional setting she spends most of her life in, she’s never on the lookout for making friends, and romantic partner wise, she’s never cared for that either. 

💫What is your favourite fact about this character and why?

I really like her sensory depth. The strength of which she feels things and her constant movement is enjoyable to write. 

☄️ Does this OC deserve better treatment from you? Do you make them suffer just a little bit too much? Be nice to them!

I have been super nice to her... so far. She’s sailing high on competition wins and lead roles right now, which isn’t to say she isn’t suffering for it, but she’s used to being the best and has become comfortable in that position. 

🌠 On a scale of 1 - 10 how baby is your OC? 

She is a hardcore and mature person for her age, as the intensity of pre-professional ballet required her to grow up fast. However, she does have a childish streak that shines through when she’s very excited, and most vividly in the safe calm of her partner. Her peak baby moments are when she’s sleepy or cold and half-consciously snuggles as deep as she can into Mako’s arms. She’s also dumb as fuck but lets not count that. 4/10. 

💦 If you as the writer could erase one traumatic event from this OC’s life what would it be and why?

There haven’t been any traumatic events in her life yet, because she’s been sheltered by her parents, who try their best not to let their own traumatic pasts cycle into their children. I think that’s the key difference between Eva and her partner, and the very different ways they deal with their very similar ballet-centric lives. 

[erascrhead]

November Ice Breaker Tag Game

loI was tagged by the lovely @bnhastanning! I’m sorry this took so long - I’ve been procrastinating all of my work and i had to take care of it before did this but now? watashi ga kita motherbuckets.

November Ice Breaker

1 - What was the last thing you were really excited about? 

Not gonna lie, things are a bit bleak at the moment, but I suppose I was very happy because I did really well on my last lesson test in my Japanese class and I raised my cumulative grade by a whole percentage! I am not very good at it but if I do decently for the rest of term I think I can make my way up to an A-, which would be really cool!

2 - What do you wish someone taught you long ago? 

Don’t be so singularly focused on your goals and responsibilities that everything else is removed from your life. Most of my middle and high school career, I was focused only on achieving what I needed academically and extracurricularly, and pushing myself beyond what I really could handle, that I ended up overworked and lonely. If it puts it into perspective, in my 10th grade year, I not only had multiple people ask me if I had taken a semester away because I had spent so much time hiding in the library, but I literally gave myself an ulcer from stress and taking on other people’s responsibilities because I had painted myself into a position where I was never allowed to refuse. While I did get to achieve beyond what I ever could have dreamed of (and I’m really proud of myself for that), theres a lot of my adolescence that I have a sort of phantom nostalgia for, and that’s something I really regret. 

Your life needs to have balance to it. Make sure you find that early on, and understand how to equally prioritize your own well being with what you want and what other’s want from you.

3 - What are some of your guilty pleasures? 

Not doing the reading for class lmao. As someone who never once skipped the reading until I graduated HS, skipping some of the reading in college, when I end up having around cumulative 500 pages per week is quite nice. I wish I had something less goody-two-shoes but I do nothing and also have zero (0) shame.

4 - What topic could you give a twenty minute presentation on without any preparation? 

There’s a couple of different things I could talk about in differing qualities ranging from classical ballet scores to a linguistic breakdown of a hamilton song, and of course I could go off about bnha for a long time, but I’m gonna go with a fun one.

My most fun answer is that I could talk about racism and race correction in Harry Potter for like three hours. Black Hermione is god tier fanon, and JKR’s attempts to race correct her make me really frustrated, not only with the problems with the action itself, but as well with the nonchalance she attempted to do it with. I have a bit of a ‘cheat’ on this one, because last year I wrote a ~5000 word academic research paper on the subject. I was already really passionate about it before that though (that’s why I wrote it in the first place); the only difference now is I can spit out narrative and numerical facts™ off the cuff, and my argument would be better organized.  

5 - What scene in a movie or tv show gives you goosebumps every time you watch it? 

I don’t really have an answer for this, which is kind of sad but also hilarious considering what my parent’s jobs are. If I had to pick something, I don’t really have a scene in particular, but the movie Amadeus (the extended directors cut edition) is one of my favorites that leaves me breathless in the best of ways. 

6 - What were some of your favorite holiday traditions growing up? 

One of my favorites is that every year since I was little, my mother and I would pick out either 1-3 new ornaments for our tree. I remember being little and walking into the Macy’s Christmas section and just being dazzled by the lights, and typically, we would pick out some white and gold porcelain birds. As I got older, are choices started coming from more small time shops, like a kiosk in hawaii or a small knick-knack shop near the place where we occasionally ski in the winter. For me, it’s really the act of going and picking out something beautiful with her that’s really nice.

A newer tradition is that every year I bake chocolate-chip bread pudding in a dutch oven. I am, unequivocally, the best baker in the family both immediate and extended, though not the best chef, and this became a hit around the time I was 15. It’s just really fun to make -- I like to belt out to Christmas songs while I bake. 

7 - What book had the most significant impact on you? 

HARD QUESTION. There’s a bunch of different ways I could answer this: the impact on the way I think, the first chapter book I read on my own that helped me discover my love of reading, my favorite example of intricate world building? I have a lot I could say. The direction I’m going to go for is the impact on my writing, and the one of the first books that really made me marvel at the beauty of words, just as they are. My two runners up are The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller and We Are the Ants by Shaun David Hutchinson, but my final answer is Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe by Benjamin Alire Sáenz.

Representation aspects aside (but also, yes!), this book was one of the first books that made me feel emotion for the words themselves. It’s more of a character study than it is plot driven, and as a kid who grew up loving action adventure fantasy novels, I think that’s one of the reasons it really stood out to me. I pulled an excerpt, just to give the gist:

I stared at the reproduced mural in the book -- but I was more interested in his finger as he tapped the book with approval. That finger had pulled a trigger in a war. That finger had touched my mother in tender ways I did not fully comprehend. I wanted to talk, to say something, to ask questions. But I couldn’t. All the words were stuck in my throat. So I just nodded.

One of my favorite things now is to play with words, to roll them around on my tongue and isolate their melodies, placing them in them in rhythm to a beat only I can hear, and I think that this was the first book that showed me how to do that.

8 - What weird thing do you have nostalgia for? 

So I went to a small school for all the way up until college; about 45 kids in my sixth grade class, 22ish in my homeroom/main class. There were four kids, including me, that had an aptitude for math, and understood the lessons without being taught them, and so what my teacher would do is give us the homework packet for the week and send us out to the outdoor benches next to our classroom to complete it during the period. We, being 11, would goof around Monday through Thursday and do the entire packet in the Friday period and then turn it in. Not the best teaching decision (i wish i had been taught the next year’s material tbh) but that’s not the point.

It was just a year, but those periods felt so untouchable and surreal and innocent. I remember, the school was so quiet, and it was just us, and we were just kids who were getting away with not learning math for a whole year, and it felt like the greatest victory in the world. 

9 - What's a problem you have, that might be entirely unique to you? 

I don’t know how unique it is, but the intensity with which I currently need to pet a dog is unparalleled.

10 - What are two of your favorite snacks? 

I literally eat an apple with peanut butter on a daily basis I cannot emphasize this enough i am, a slut, for peanut butter. 

There’s also this specific Costco Brand trail mix that I literally have eaten so much of that I got nauseous. We love Kirkland Signature™ up in this house.

That’s all! I’m tagging @kicheetah @teamstevesass @stark-tony @bakugox @rabbitproduce @pixie-witchery @joeytrlbiani @queenangst THOUGH NO PRESSURE and also anyone else who wants to! Have fun!!

[writtenbyhappynerds]

FF102: Unit 4, Writing Children

Hello! So, because we screwed the pooch and didn’t take into consideration how long it would take to write the Diversity chapter, we are giving you 2 chapters in 1 week. The second part of this week is writing kids, which came about after the many parent fics and Hogwarts/Percy Jackson fics that the Editor and I have read.

          The biggest mistake you can do, the one that really shows your lack of experience as a writer is dumbing down children. Kids are just like any other adult OC. They need growth, motivation, strengths, and weaknesses. You lose power in writing kids when you infantilize them, and you need to understand the general age brackets of how kids operate. I myself struggle with this, but kids can hold a conversation just like an adult can. They can have meaningful and profound discussions. That’s how the saying, ‘out of the mouth of babes’ came around. Now, that doesn’t mean that the children are smarter than adults, but they can absolutely keep up. For example, I had a talk with my 7-year old cousin once. She asked me if I thought of myself as funny. I said yes, and she then asked if I had to work hard to be funny or if God made me naturally funny. It was a conversation I wasn’t prepared for, but I still had it with her all the same. Think back to when you were a kid. If you didn’t talk like or do the things you’re making your child OC do, then don’t make that OC do them!

          What we usually see in child OCs is that they are cut back emotionally and mentally to the age of a common 3-year old. Pervocracy wrote a great memo on how to handle children while they worked as a childless nurse. I will summarize that memo and add my own notes as well. It will be cited below for your convenience.

          From the time of birth to a year old, the child is a baby. They can crawl and walk, and may have a few words or be able to recognize people, may know parts of the body “Can you show me where your feet are?” but they are essentially small animals. You have to be gentle and affectionate, and don’t expect them to cooperate. Babies cry, but more often than not they cry as a means to communicate.

          A child aged 1-2 years old is a bit more difficult. They have more mobility and have gained more of a voice. The “terrible twos” come in to play here and the child is able to walk and run around. Often children at this age are dependent on the response of their caregivers. If a child falls, they only will make a big deal out of said fall because their caregiver does. They cry because their caregiver has clued them in socially that they are hurt. That’s why you see a lot of moms tell their babies, “it’s okay!” or “you’re okay.” They have to reassure the child that they are in fact fine so the child does not react. Children at this age can speak, but it may still be simple sentences. They can’t get deep yet. They also will recognize strangers and want to avoid them.

          A toddler/preschool child is around the age of 3-5 years old. They are more socialized, given this is the age where most children go to daycare, preschool, or kindergarten. They are potty trained by this age. Do not write a 3-5-year-old OC and have her still in diapers. That isn’t realistic. These kids are also fully mobile, and this is the age where you can start seeing the baby’s personality. Are they a hyper child? Do they like animals? If the child dances, most dancers start pre-ballet classes at this age. Do they want to go outside all the time or are they more comfortable spending time inside? Babytalk from the child, ie: mama, dada, I want, etc. Is not realistic. Again, the child may have simple sentences, but they’ve learned enough words at this point to not have to resort to speaking like that. These kids are easily distracted and likely have been weaned off naps. Parents can still babytalk these kids, a phrase here which means speak to them in that sweet little-kid voice, but the baby will not babytalk to their parents.

          A small child is roughly the ages of 6-10. These kids in America are already in school. A 6-year old is the average age of first graders, and a 9/10-year-old is roughly a 3rd grader. They will not respond well to babytalk. These kids want to be treated like adults but may still have childlike tendencies (may still pout, whine, cry, etc.). They have been fully socialized by this point as they will have had years in daycare or school racked up at this point. They are outgoing and less afraid of strangers. Most prodigy children who play an instrument will have started their instrument around age 5 or 6 (source: was a prodigy child. Started violin at 6). They like to see cool or fun or gross facts and are eager to learn and joke around. At this age you’re still watching Spongebob unironically, so treat them as such.

          A preteen is around the ages of 11-14. The child, if it’s a girl, may experience her first period, the child, if it’s a boy, will go through puberty. Girls may develop quicker, as many boys can recall a point in like 5th grade where all the girls were suddenly taller than them. These children are fussy and frustrated because they think they know more than they actually do, but are still treated for the most part like kids. They still need bedtimes and house rules and restrictions, but they don’t want them. A child will likely learn swearwords and start using them out of sight of their parents around the age of 12. This is also where a child’s cringe phase comes in because they will be going through middle school, which is the worst time in every kid’s life and a time that they all want to forget.

          A teenager is around 15-18. These are young adults. They have freedoms, mainly the ability to drive a car, but their life experience is limited. Around this age is where a child would get a girlfriend or boyfriend. No sex at this age. Don’t do that to your OCs. In Harry Potter, we often see writers jumping the gun and having their OCs hook up with Draco Malfoy in the third year. That’s too early for a kid. That kid would still be a preteen, and their life experience is limited. They also would be incapable of giving consent for something like that. Wait until they are 15-18. In Harry Potter fanfic, that would be years 5-7. This age of OC will want some autonomy away from their parents. If they visit the doctor’s office they may want to go alone. If you offered them a sticker at the doctor’s office, they’d take it ironically. They may experience early stages of depression, anxiety, or stress that can be caused by their school or home life because they have more expectations placed on them. They may have hobbies or be involved in after-school activities. A 17-year-old or 18 year old will be thinking about college.

          Notice the progression as the ages go up. A 5 or 6-year-old won’t have the pressures of a 17-year old, but they can still hold a conversation and do similar activities to the teenager. A 1-year old will speak in baby talk, but that window is very small and narrow, and in fanfiction we often see it carry on for much longer than it should. Babies grow faster than you think. They develop faster too, and you don’t want to limit your OC’s ability for growth because you’ve shoehorned them into one specific age. Child OCs deserve character growth just like adult OCs. The fun part about writing kid OCs is that the audience can see them grow into what would be already-developed personality traits and hobbies in an adult OC. The things that would get added to your internal character bio get to grow and blossom right in front of us. If you write a child OC, give them the chance to do that. Give them the chance to grow.

          Finally, most Harry Potter or Percy Jackson fanfics start the OC off as a first-year, which luckily for us is the same age as a new camper at Camp Half-Blood. Both are 11 or 12. We had a note for young OCs in Fanfiction 101 Unit 3: Please Stop Using Emily Rudd. I will reiterate that point: these OCs are 11-12 at the start of the fanfic. You should not be describing how “strikingly beautiful” an 11 or 12-year-old is. On top of that, children don’t notice things like that. Save attraction for when they’re like 14. That’s when it’ll have a more meaningful impact.

          Next week we’ll be getting more technical. The next unit is a topic the Editor and I have a lot of experience in, and hopefully, we’ll be able to bring in some outside perspectives.

Xoxo, Gossip Girl.

Sources:

Pervocracy's Tumblr