#lately i hear people saying they wished that there was star wars for adults

[pocket-size-cthulhu]

Andor is like if they made a political drama that was so good that most of the time you didn't even remember it was set in space opera universe

[luxaofhesperides]

our passage of haunting

grief and the empty spaces that accompany it.

in which lee jihye and maritime war god carry what they can of the people they’ve lost.

also on ao3 and part of @themazine, which you should all download here!!

. . . . .

The only survivor of Taepung Girls High School. 

This is not a title that she wanted. Lee Jihye did not want to walk out of that school alone. She didn’t want to walk out at all but she survived and survivors had to move on to the next scenario location. 

As Kim Dokja said: Nobody “deserves” to live, but if you’ve survived, take responsibility!

She walked out of that school numb and shaking, tears falling from her eyes but only vaguely aware of them. It was as if she was looking at the world through a pane of glass; she could see everything, but it was out of her reach.

Her hands still feel foreign. How does one forget the sensation of strangling another? How does Lee Jihye go through each day without breaking down to the memory of Na Bori’s throat in her hands, Na Bori’s fingers gentle on her wrists, Na Bori’s final breaths beneath her hold?

There is an empty space where Na Bori should be. Always beside her, the absence is a ghost itself that Lee Jihye holds onto tightly; she has nothing, but this nothing is the last thing she has of Na Bori.

[Constellation ‘Maritime War God’ advises his incarnation to sleep.]

Lee Jihye barely glances at the message. “I can’t.”

[Constellation ‘Maritime War God’ looks sadly upon his incarnation.]

[Constellation ‘Maritime War God’ reminds incarnation ‘Lee Jihye’ that he will listen if she wants to talk.]

She looks down at her hands. They’re empty, and yet—

She is a murderer, but so is everyone else that’s survived this far. She is a child, but there are no children in the Star Stream. She is alone, but she is surrounded by people she will kill for and who would kill for her. 

She is Lee Jihye, and she should not be here.

“Why did you choose me?” Lee Jihye asks. It’s not what she wanted to say, but something between grief and loss and rage caught in her throat and the question came out instead. It’s not something she’s really thought about. Things have been too busy, and Lee Jihye likes busy; if she’s focused on survival, she doesn’t need to think about emptiness inside her that she ripped open herself.

“Why not anyone else? Someone who isn’t scared of the sea? Someone stronger?”

Her throat tightens. Somehow, Lee Jihye didn’t realize how much it was bothering her. 

Why would she be chosen by a constellation named Maritime War God? There are so many better options. She’s just a teenage girl, too old to be a child and too young to be called an adult. She’s nothing special, just the survivor of a high school massacre done solely for the entertainment of uncaring constellations. Now that the question is out in the air, she’s realizing how desperately she needs an answer. 

There’s a lot she’s been running from, lately. This is just another. 

Maritime War God is silent. Had she been outside, she would have tried to find his star, make sure he hasn’t abandoned her. 

But she’s not. 

Lee Jihye is inside, back to the wall watching everyone else sleep through the open door. She’s far enough away that they won’t hear her speak, but close enough to keep an eye on them. It reflects much of how she feels these days: on the outside, looking in.

She’s idly counting each time she clenches her hands into fists, reaching 43 before an indirect message arrives.

[Constellation ‘Maritime War God’ would like to honor his friend through incarnation ‘Lee Jihye’.]

[Constellation ‘Maritime War God’ remembers how ‘Lee Eokgi’ did not abandon him when others had, and wishes to return the favor by taking care of his descendant.]

Lee Jihye stares at the indirect messages. She reads them again. Then once more. 

She doesn’t cry, but it’s a close thing.

[Constellation ‘Maritime War God’ understands that the weight of a life is heavy indeed, and to kill a beloved friend will hurt in a way that never heals.]

[Constellation ‘Maritime War God’ mourns the people he loves, who can only live on in his stories.]

[Constellation ‘Maritime War God’ reminds his incarnation that her friend does not blame her and gave her life so that incarnation ‘Lee Jihye’ can live on.]

[Constellation ‘Maritime War God’ hopes that one day incarnation ‘Lee Jihye’ can remember not only the pain, but also the love of her friends.]

Lee Jihye scrubs at her eyes roughly, ducking her head to hide her expression from view. It does nothing to stop the tears that quickly spill down her cheeks or the sob that fractures itself out of her chest. 

It hurts. It hurts.

Being alive hurts but she has to live because Na Bori gave up her life for her. She has to live so Na Bori’s death can mean something. 

“How can anyone live like this?” she asks, voice weak and heavy with tears. “How does anyone survive? I want her back. I want her back.”

Through the doorway, she catches sight of faint movement. Jung Heewon shifts, rolling away from Lee Hyunsung to place a hand on the hilt of her sword. No one wakes. Her grief is hidden away from them for another night. 

She hears more  indirect messages come in, the sound calling her attention.

Swallowing heavily, Lee Jihye wipes her eyes roughly, blinking back her tears, and looks up to read.

[Constellation ‘Maritime War God’ recalls the day he was pushed into a lake by his subordinates after losing a drinking game.]

[Constellation ‘Maritime War God’ laughs at the memory of accidentally smearing ink on a friend’s face after writing.]

[Constellation ‘Maritime War God’ reminisces about sailing on a clear summer day and tripping over a soldier who was taking a nap.]

Lee Jihye smiles. “I did that too, once. Na Bori didn’t want to play volleyball so she took a nap on the floor and I tripped over her trying to get the ball.”

[Constellation ‘Maritime War God’ is looking fondly upon incarnation ‘Lee Jihye’.]

[Constellation ‘Maritime War God’ wishes to hear more stories from the life of incarnation ‘Lee Jihye’.]

It’s hard to find the words. To find a voice for her life before the scenarios. She’s thought of it endlessly, in dreams and nightmares and slow moments when they could all take a moment to breathe. 

Everything had ended and began the moment she killed Na Bori. She can barely recognize the girls in her memory when she’s changed so much.

But she’s the only one with those memories. No one else knows what she and Na Bori were like before. All they know is that one killed the other. Nothing else. Maritime War God knows nothing about the cheerful, lazy, funny girl who was afraid of insects, just as no one knows about the people he’s loved and outlived. 

There are no graves in the apocalypse. 

In Memory Of in this world means there is only memory. They are the living graves of others. 

Lee Jihye carries the ghost of Na Bori with her. This is the only way either of them can survive—one the urn, one the ashes. 

But it’s not the only thing she carries.

“We got lost once,” she says, “On a school trip. Got distracted by a cat and when we looked up everyone was gone. They were only a block away but with the way Na Bori acted you would have thought we had been abandoned forever.” 

[Constellation ‘Maritime War God’ laughs heartily at the story and recalls how he, too, once got lost in a market following a cat.]

“Once during summer vacation we went to a park and I found a cicada shell. So I went to show her since it’s not really a bug and she nearly scaled a street light to get away from me.”

[Constellation ‘Maritime War God’ remembers his friend being scared of octopus and nearly fighting a fisher trying to sell him some.]

There’s a lull in their conversation before Maritime War God sends his final message for the night.

[Constellation ‘Maritime War God’ is proud of his incarnation and honored to be one of the few to hear about ‘Lee Jihye’ from before the scenarios.]

“Thanks,” she whispers, engraving the indirect message into her memory. 

It’s not the Maritime General he sends the message to. Not the survivor of Taepung Girls High School. 

Just Lee Jihye. 

Just the girl and the friend she survives. 

She is Lee Jihye, and that means something. It means something to the constellation who looks after her as best he can, to the members of the company who always make sure she has something to eat, to Na Bori who haunts her because she gave her life for Lee Jihye.

It has to mean something.

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

Father's Day - Malec

i couldn't stop thinking about how Rafael and Max would celebrate Fathers' day, because i never got to celebrate father's day with my dad, but anyways.

Alec and Magnus would probably wake up to Rafe and Max screaming at each other from the kitchen

"Rafe, we have perfectly good knives!"

"They're not good knives, Max! It won't cut the stupid fruit! That's why I'm using my seraph blade - the next sharpest thing I have!"

"It's a seraph blade!"

"It cuts the damn fruit!"

Magnus and Alec would laugh, and lazily pull each other out of bed. Magnus, still sleepy, leans on Alec as they walk out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, where the brothers were fighting

The boys notice their fathers in the doorway, and stop fighting, and look at them guiltily because they really did make a mess of the kitchen

"What were you boys doing?"

"We were trying to make you breakfast without magic"

"And Aunt Izzy gave us some tips,"

"Is that why you're using your seraph blade to cut a pineapple?"

"Oh shut up!"

They decide that they'll just have a brunch at some mundane restaurant, because none of the Lightwood-Banes can cook a decent meal that isn't instant noodles or canned soup

Alec finds a card with their mail that says "Happy Father's Day, Alec. Your first son, Jace"

Alec laughs so hard, and then calls Jace to thank him

They go for brunch at a mundane restaurant down the street, where they have waffles with whipped cream and cherry on top, and pancakes filled with nutella, and so much more.

They order food for six people, when there's only four of them, because Alec and Rafael's stomachs are like an endless pit.

They laugh and joke around, and complain when Magnus and Alec kiss

"Ugh, dad! We don't need to see that!"

"Honestly, bapa! please stop!"

They don't stop till they can't stop laughing. They love teasing their sons like that.

Magnus and Max take A LOT of pictures, and Rafe and Alec make funny faces.

Rafael pays for the meal, because technically he is almost an adult, and Max is a teenager and they get some money from their parents. But Max spends all of his money on useless things like Magnus does, and Rafe, being a smart guy, keeps most of the money aside, and spends really less. Currently, he's the richest amongst the four of them.

They walk around Brooklyn aimlessly, just roaming around. the boys say they know where they're going, but Alec and Magnus aren't sure if they really do.

They end up in a fair, with all bright and colorful rides and games, with screaming and laughing families.

"Ta - da!"

"Did you guys really know we were coming here, or was itjust luck that we stumbled here?"

"Bapa, you need to have more faith in us,"

"Says the boy who used his seraph blade to cut a pineapple."

"Oh, come on! Am I ever going to stop hearing about it?"

"Nah. I'll tell your future girlfriend to not let you in the kitchen."

"MAX MICHEAL LIGHTWOOD-BANE, YOU STAY AWAY FROM ANY OF MY FUTURE GIRLFRIENDS!!"

That makes Max and Rafael start a competition of who can win their dads a bigger prize. The teams are Max and Alec and Rafael and Magnus.

They start with a game where they shoot balloons using guns. Rafael cheats by using his accuracy runes. Alec sees this and whispers to Max to use a little bit of magic.

"You cheated!"

"I cheated??"

"Yes! You used magic!"

"You used your accuracy rune!"

"You don't know that!"

"Your stele is right there, Rafael!"

Alec and Magnus move away and let them fight. they find a cotton candy stall and buy four for each of them, each of different flavors.

Rafe and Max have a fluffy unicorn and a fluffy octopus in their arms when they find their dads. Max hands the unicorn to Alec, who gives him a blueberry flavored cotton candy, and Rafe gives Magnus the octopus, who gives him a chocolate cotton candy (it did not taste as good as expected)

They took a bunch of pictures and sent them to the rest of their family

Max pulls them to sit on all kinds of fast moving rides, and they throw their hands in the air and laugh at each other

Magnus did not like the ride where they did the loop - to - loop in the air way too many times

They find a photo booth, and click a lot of pictures! Silly faces, smiling faces, every kind of face they can think of. And then they select their favorites and keep the single photos for themselves.

They buy pizza, and while eating, Alec gets an alert of a demon four blocks from where they are.

After all, no day is complete without a demon attack.

They leave their pizza, and go to kill the demon. It's a Drevak demon, which means more work. UGH.

They fight gracefully together. They're family, they know each other's moves well.

Alec and Rafael search for the queen Drevak, while Magnus and Max blast them off as much as they can.

It takes really long for Alec and Rafe to find the queen, because she's really well hidden, which means that Magnus and Max are getting tired soon.

They finally find the queen, and Alec distracts the queen, while Rafael comes out of no where and kills her.

By the time Alec and Rafael go back to Magnus and Max, they're exhausted. There were way too many of them, coming all at once.

The family go back home, because the demons are taken care of, and the warlocks of the family need to rest.

They change into sweatpants and loose t-shirts, and gather together on the couch. They order chinese, and do a Star Wars marathon, because it's Rafe's turn to choose and as much as he finds the loopholes annoying, he still thinks they're some of the best.

Only Rafe and Max are paying attention to the movies. Alec and Magnus are cuddling, and they're talking quietly about anything that comes to their mind.

In between their quiet discussions, Rafe and Max whisper a happy father's day to their dads.

"Happy fathers' day, dad and bapa,"

"Happy fathers' day, bapa. Happy fathers' day, dad,"

"Thank you, my loves."

"Thank you."

Magnus is half asleep, but he still pulls away from Alec and kisses both his sons on the forehead

Max smiles, and Rafael tries to hide his smile, but it's too late, everybody has already seen it

Magnus falls back on Alec's chest, before Alec can do anything else. But Alec smiles at both of his sons, and squeezes their hands.

Just before Magnus falls asleep, Alec wishes him as well.

"Happy father's day, Magnus. I love you."

"Happy father's day, Alexander. I love you too."

Magnus falls asleep against Alec's chest. and Max falls asleep, with his head on Magnus' lap and his feet on Rafael's lap.

Alec carries Magnus to their bed, and covers him with a blanket. Rafael carries Max to his bed, grumbling about how heavy he is, and he really needs to lose weight. Alec laughs softly.

While Rafe is busy putting Max to bed, Alec stands in the balcony. he softly whispers a happy father's day to his father.

"Dad? You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"Do you miss grandpa? I didn't know him well."

"Sometimes, I do miss him,"

Alec tells Rafael about Robert Lightwood. He tells his son all about how Robert made mistakes, how he did not accept Alec completely for his sexuality, how he always seemed to prefer Jace over him. Alec tells Rafael about how Robert tired to fix his mistakes, and make amends with him and Magnus, how he told Alec that he was proud of him and loved him just as much as the rest of his siblings.

Rafael doesn't point it out, but Alec lets out a few tears. Rafael just hugs his father, and whispers a good night to him, knowing his father needs to be alone for a while, just to get himself together.

Alec stays out in the balcony for a few more minutes, before he checks the entire house, making sure everything is locked. He checks Max and Rafe's rooms where they're both asleep, and presses a soft kiss on their foreheads, and makes sure that they're covered properly by their blanket so that they don't feel cold.

Magnus stands in the doorway of Max's room, where Alec is, and makes a pretty nightlight for him, because he knows that Max does not like the dark. He makes a small nightlight for Rafael as well, with a spell that will let Magnus and Alec know if he has a nightmare.

Alec and Magnus walk back to their bedroom, wrapped in each other's arms.

"What are you doing up?"

"You weren't there, so I couldn't sleep."

"Hmm, I'm sorry."

"Are you okay?"

"I - I just miss dad, sometimes."

"It's okay, Alexander. he loves you."

"Thank you. I love you."

"I love you too."

Just before he sleeps, Izzy sends him a picture of a framed picture of Robert who was laughing, with a candle in front of it, and four father's day cards in surrounding it - one that Alec had sent, one that Alec bought on behalf of Max Lightwood, one from Izzy, and one from Jace.

Alec sends a red heart to his sister, and then sends her pictures from the day. He changes his homescreen picture to one of the four of them, eating cotton candy.

Magnus tugs at Alec's hand softly, and pulls him to bed. They cuddle, like they have been for the past fourteen/fifteen years.

They're both happy with the life that they have now. Tt was one of the best days they've ever had.

and that's their fathers' day!

thank you for reading this!

[stormwarnings]

another star wars oc here, a jedi padawan during the rebellion era who learns under quinlan vos: illmh hin-lok

born vuiy hin-lok of sorgan, vuiy is a youngling of barely five when order 66 is carried out, all tan-white skin and pale blond curls and big eyes full of terror

he escapes the slaughter (just barely) with a practice ‘saber and not much else

he’s too old to be picked up off the streets, and too young to hide himself well – he ends up as a stowaway but by the skin of his teeth, and that’s how he comes to be in port xanth

port xanth is a rather unimportant place in the grand scheme of the galaxy, but central enough for the miniscule mid rim refugee planet that it sits on; the planet is more of a waystation than anything, constantly ravaged by storms, covered in marsh and river and swamp and enormous oceans, and when the sky isn’t clouded over it’s dominated by the rings that surround the planet; the port itself is a floating city anchored right on one of the lifeblood rivers for the farmers of the planet, and it sees enough people and enough stagnant water that respirators are required for any and all lest viruses travel rampant, via either bug or person

vuiy doesn’t know this, and that’s how he ends up half-dead, coughing up blood and shivering in the constant rain, and he’s a kid, maybe he’s ready to give up, except here’s the thing

sometimes, the galaxy spares some kindness for those who have suffered the most

sizzy, tag, and bunks are – respectively – a curly-haired human, a green nautolan, and a cyan mon calamari, all of whom are orphans, living a ways out from the port in the wreck of an old starfighter; they fish and trade in town, sizzy and tag barely old enough to pass it off as legal, and they care for vuiy until he feels better, dress him in knit sweaters and fishing overalls and an old respirator

and they don’t tell him to leave, even though they barely know who he is, much less his name, even though he can’t bring himself to talk – not a single word

sizzy and tag slowly teach how to sign, and in the meantime they give him a name – illmh, tag says, like the quiet when the rain stops and all you can hear is the wind in the grasses and the river draining to the sea

illmh fits better than vuiy ever had, he figures out as he grows (but even more than that, it’s all he really ever knows) and he keeps it close to his heart

a kiffar seeks them out when illmh is seven or eight

he says, i was a jedi once, and you were, too, and then he leaves illmh with a promise: should you wish, you may seek me out someday, and i will finish your training

illmh stays for now

the four of them grow older – tag and sizzy stumbling through becoming adults and paying taxes, illmh stumbling through limbs suddenly far too large for him and a sensitivity to the world that helps him communicate more than words ever will, bunks becoming sharp as a hook and good with mech, knit hats and soup in odd mugs from that store in downtown port xanth, odd jobs and late hours, countless rainy nights where bunks and illmh watch pirated holovids while sizzy rants about the empire and tag works on getting his online degree and they argue quietly in the kitchen

it’s home, is what it is, and so of course illmh has to leave it

ten years after the jedi purge, illmh sets out to find quinlan vos

illmh’s tall and he’s got muscle from jobs moving cargo in port xanth, so he can pass off as older than he is – even so, he’s not used to a world that doesn’t take the time to listen to him, and it takes him awhile to find quinlan vos, but when he does –

oh, is it worth it

master vos and his fellow jedi knight barriss offee and her padawan ev’eck crain become illmh’s second family, and he learns more from them than he ever thought was possible; learns mischief and subtlety from master vos, learns balance and peace from master offee, learns ‘saber forms right alongside ev (as well as how to deal with a younger brother that’s annoying and endearing all at once)

the turmoil in him starts to gentle, with the families he has made – he calls bunks, sometimes, introduces the mon cala to ev (and the two of them get along like a house on fire) and they three have a commchannel to carefully and quietly update each other on their lives when they have the time

illmh’s hair grows longer, long enough to pull back in a ponytail (enough for a padawan braid) as he and his master duck across the galaxy, learning lessons on the fly as tends to be the style of quinlan vos, hearing stories about the jedi order that illmh never got to grow up with, about the history and legacy that he carries in his hands and in the braid of his hair

in this time, illmh also makes his lightsabers – two of them, a blue ‘saber and a lighter blue shoto, the graceful spinning allowing him to meditate, jar’kai and makashi blending together seamlessly

(and in another world, cin drallig would have taught him himself)

there are missions to be run for the rebellion, and lessons that illmh must learn as he grows into adulthood; there are homes to be returned to, conversations to be had, and dark nights on remote planets where illmh lays back to watch the stars with ev; even darker mornings after clashes with the empire where master offee needs to spar with someone who can keep up with her, and illmh wishes to be a jedi like her or master vos, so full of grace and careful quiet

(though he knows, he does, what it’s cost them)

there’s illmh, in his raincloak, dangling his feet from the open loading ramp of the ship and watching the dim lights of port xanth pass below – master vos sits down next to him and tells him about friends who were once family, about a reckless blue twi’lek and a finicky but endearing human, about a feisty togruta and a stern grey human, about a bookish mirialan and a mon cala who taught him how to stitch up wounds, and in the presence of his second padawan quinlan vos lets himself grieve for what he has lost, lets illmh hold onto him tight

(bunks joins the rebellion, eventually, with sizzy and tag – tag so reluctant, but not willing to give up sizzy when he’s finally realized he’s in love with her – and someday they’ll come face-to-face again, bunks in a mechanic’s jumpsuit and illmh with lightsabers on his belt, and bunks won’t say anything because he won’t need to, because illmh will just crush him into a hug, glad that he hasn’t lost him)

someday, there’s even more jedi

(hi, says a beautiful togruta named kanscee with a ‘saber like seafoam and bitter caf eyes, then: sorry i broke your ship)

but for now, the sun rises purple-orange on a forested planet, mist blowing off a river where ev practices ‘saber forms and master offee drinks her tea from a thermos, exchanging acerbic words with her teenage padawan, where master vos smiles without too much shadow in it, rustling illmh’s hair before severing the padawan braid and handing it to him

maybe, illmh thinks, maybe home doesn’t mean everything – but certainly it means something

he’s glad to have found his

[pop-punklouis]

top five HL fanfic!!!!

biiiiitch you all know how hard it is for me to choose only 5. but sigh FINE here’s my all-time favorite list that isn’t 5 sorry i can’t choose 😔:

• Here in the Afterglow (89k)

“If you hadn’t noticed, I don’t have many friends,” Louis whispers, the blossom of insecurity in his stomach unfurling and clawing its way into his throat.

Harry is silent for a long time, and then he speaks; a soft, slow uncurl that makes Louis’ stomach shake. “I’ll be your friend.” 1970’s AU. In a tiny town in Idaho, Louis’ life is changed forever by the arrival of a curious stranger.

• Coax the Cold (86k)

England, 1897.

English Professor Louis Tomlinson’s passion for the occult has been a source of mockery and derision for most of his life. When he hears whispers of a travelling freak show newly established in London claiming the existence of a monstrous sea hybrid, half-man, half-fish, Louis sees it as his ticket to credibility amongst his peers. The summer he spends undercover working on the show, however, gives him much more than that.

• Wild and Unruly (124k)

Harry is a cowboy sitting on the biggest oil reservoir in Wyoming, and Louis is the paralegal assigned to pressure him into selling his land.

• This Wicked Game (70k)

An AU in which The Bachelor is gay, Louis is a contestant, Harry is the bachelor, everyone drinks a lot of champagne, the entire world gets to watch them fall in love, and no one plays by the rules.

• Love is a Rebellious Bird (135k)

AU in which the boys still make music. Louis is the concertmaster of the London Symphony Orchestra, Harry is the New! and Exciting! interim conductor/ex-cello prodigy who "has made Mozart cool again" according to Esquire Magazine (Louis hates him immediately, which is definitely why he internet stalked him in his dark bedroom late at night that one time), and Niall is the best. Zayn and Liam are around too.

• Fixated On One Star (53k)

Louis is just a boy with the world on his shoulders, and Harry's just a boy from the wrong side of the galaxy. A little thing like love doesn't stand a chance against a thousand years of war, at least until the right two come along to break the mold.

Or: space Romeo and Juliet AU

• Finding Lou (60k)

Louis is the nomadic stranger who wanders into Harry’s bookstore. Harry is the skeptic who falls for him.

• California Sold

Notoriously closeted boyband member Harry Styles is famous on a global scale, meanwhile Louis, as his best friend, is back home in Manchester, living the typical life of a 24 year old. When Harry needs Louis with him in LA, a publicity stunt gone wrong changes their friendship forever.

A fake-relationship AU between two lifelong best friends.

• Empty Skies (134k)

For three years, Harry has been running from his past. Now, he is moving to London and pledges to fulfil his only dream -- making it big in the music industry. Not everyone has a place, though, and the competition is tough. As is his past catching up on him.

Louis is part of the biggest boy band of the world, and getting there had meant a lot of hard work, as well as sacrificing parts of his heart and soul. He's still happy. Maybe not as happy as he could be, but who is he to complain?

• And Then a Bit (159k)

“We’d like to give the fans what they want.” Magee states, placing his hand on the table in front of him and leaning forward. “We want to give them Larry Stylinson.”

Or, take a parallel universe where Louis and Harry were never together, mix in a two year hiatus and an impending comeback, pour in a dash of lost fans, two tablespoons of strong friendship and a Modest! employee with a good idea. Add a squeeze of pretending to be a couple, lots of kisses and a tattoo or two. Stir. Serve: the mother of all publicity stunts. (aka Harry and Louis fake a relationship for publicity. Eventually it becomes a lot less fake and a lot more real.)

• Dream Awake (31k)

The sun leaks through the tent wall behind him the way it leaks through eyelids, bathing the boy in an ethereal half-light as he croons. The crowd is mesmerized. Louis is mesmerized. This is the most important person in the world, he thinks wildly, and then can't figure out how to take it back.

On a hazy day in August, Louis sees Harry perform at a music festival as an unsigned act and convinces him to spend the rest of the weekend in his company. Harry gets signed; life changes. They never really wake up from the dream.

• Say You’ll Remember (93.5k)

au. louis and harry are best mates that are only half aware that they're also soulmates. alternatively, louis goes to university and harry travels the world, and they always manage to find their way back to each other.

takes place over nine years, in which they love and hurt, make mistakes and learn, and above all, grow.

• Outwit, Outplay, Outlast (61k)

Survivor All-Stars AU in which Harry and Louis are just in this game to win the million dollars, but they end up with something better.

Featuring Harry's yellow swim shorts, Louis in snapbacks, and OT5 shenanigans.

• Nothing Else But Us Right Here (35k)

Louis sighs and gives himself a mental pep talk as he smooths his jumper down over his hips. He can do this. He can resist the draw of Harry Styles, because he is a responsible, mature adult, and as much as he wants to tangle his fingers in that mess of hair and map those ridiculous tattoos with his tongue, he does not want to get his daughter’s favorite teacher fired.

• Wings to Break Your Fall (103k)

strip club AU. Harry’s work and family are keeping him busy. He really isn’t looking for a relationship, doesn’t want one. He just wants Louis. Problem is, Louis has other plans.

• Leave it to the Breeze (81k)

Louis couldn’t be prouder of his bake, but there’s something—there’s something. Something about Harry Styles and the earnest way he measures, pours, mixes, scrapes. Something about the tip of his tongue poking out of his mouth as he knocks the air out of his batter.

or a great british bake off au in which louis cares about winning and winning only, harry is made of sunshine and rainbow sprinkles, and niall sticks his nose into other people's business. also featuring liam as louis's best friend-slash-concerned mother, and zayn as a macaron connoisseur.

• You Come Beating Like Moth’s Wings (81k)

Harry smiles. He's only known Louis for about two hours, knows nothing about him past his first name, but he's nice and sarcastic and helpful and so, so pretty. And Harry's still got a few days left in Barcelona, and he thinks he wouldn't mind spending them with Louis.

Also known as, Harry takes the summer before uni to travel Europe and meets Louis in Barcelona, and they end up traveling together.

• Hold Me Closer (36.5k)

Louis Tomlinson is one of the most promising dancers of the English National Ballet, on track to become the youngest principal dancer in the company's history. That is, until forces conspire to significantly complicate his life, including: a surprise ballet, an unfairly attractive guest choreographer, and being pushed into a rivalry with his best mate. Featuring lots of wine, dancing, pining, and a happy ending.

• In Vogue (121k)

Fashion AU. Louis is the editor in chief of Vogue magazine, and Harry's running British GQ. Featuring Zayn as the crazy creative director and Louis' confidant, Liam as the sports writer that gets to sit front row at fashion week and DJ Neil as the only sane person in the whole story. (There are no skinny jeans in this fic)

• These Things Will Never Change for Us at All (1.5k)

The room falls silent as they stay wrapped up in each other. Harry can feel Louis’ soft breaths on his neck, and he almost thinks Louis’ fallen asleep until he says softly, “How did you know you were in love with me?”

Or, Harry and Louis look back on five years.

• A Runaway American Dream (15k)

AU. they take route 66 with only each other and their secrets.

• Things Have Gotten Closer to the Sun (49k)

it’s strange, making the choice to face his past—it almost feels like he’s heading for the sun straight on, like he’s screaming come on and burn me, i deserve it.

when a solar flare is announced to end the world in twelve days, harry reunites with the people that he used to know better than the back of his own hand.

• Here (in your arms) (60k)

the one where Louis is a successful real estate agent and Harry works at a retirement home. They’ve never had a real home. Up until now.

(Starring Liam Payne as a fitness trainer, Zayn as an artist, and Niall, who busks.)

• These Inconvenient Fireworks (190k)

Future AU in which nobody tries out for X Factor but the boys end up finding one other eventually anyway. Louis is a jaded bastard who owns a cat named Duchess and teaches drama to teenagers, Harry is an idealistic aspiring photographer/part-time footy coach, Zayn teaches English lit and wears leather jackets, Liam saves people from burning buildings, and Niall is Niall.

• In Dreams (23k)

AU. When Harry moves to a new city, his new flat come with a number of sweet, anonymous gifts and surprises that brighten his days. Could it be a friendly ghost? Another friendly presence in his new building is his tattooed neighbor, Louis, who seems determined to put a smile back on his face.

• My Heart is Breathing for this Moment in Time (160k)

When Louis first saw Harry at the 2010 X Factor Auditions, he thought he was watching a peculiarly special stranger. But Harry has known Louis ever since he was five years old. Because Louis has a rare genetic disorder that causes him to Time Travel to important moments in his past and in his future - and to Harry, always to Harry. When they’re put into a band together, it seems like everything Harry has been waiting and wishing for has finally come true. Except for the small fact that Louis doesn’t know that Harry is in love with him- that Harry’s always been in love with him. Fate, it would seem, is just getting started.

A story about growing up and growing together, and the impossible love that makes it all worthwhile.

• Paint the Sky with Stars (63k)

On 10 April 1912, Harry Styles boards the finest ship the world has ever seen. Still grieving the death of their mother, he and his sister are being sent to America to live with a callous uncle who cares more about his business connections than family. Harry prepares himself for a long, disappointing voyage alone in his stateroom. Louis Tomlinson has borrowed and saved, and finally has enough to purchase a Third Class ticket to America. With all of his belongings in a single ruck sack, he boards the Titanic filled with hope for a brighter future. Never one to sit still, he can’t resist exploring the massive ship, and soon goes sneaking into First Class in a stolen steward’s uniform. By a twist of fate, Louis finds himself in Harry’s stateroom, entranced by the most attractive man he’s ever laid eyes on. He keeps returning day after day, even if he doesn’t understand what it is about Harry that continues pulling him in. That’s all right; Louis has a week to figure it out, and Harry is plenty willing to help. Except they don’t have a week. They have four days. Because on 15 April, their entire world will be turned upside down.

Or, the historically accurate Titanic AU with a happy ending.

• Through Eerie Chaos (102k)

For as long as anyone can remember, Old Hillsbridge Manor has always been believed to be haunted. Everyone in the village agrees and keeps a respectful, fearful, distance. New in town after a bad breakup and an internship that led to disappointment rather than a permanent job, Harry Styles figures taking pictures of the decrepit building could be a great new creative project. Or at least a much-needed distraction while he searches for a job and crashes at his parents’ new house. No one warned him about the apparitions though; about the music, the laughter, the people who flicker and vanish when you call after them, the echoes of a past that should be long gone… Harry has never believed in spirits but even he can admit that there’s something weird going on. What starts as mere curiosity evolves into a full-blown investigation and soon enough, Harry finds himself making friends with an aristocrat from the 1920s and struggling with finding the best way to tell him that he’s dead.

The Ghost Hunter AU where Niall lives to prove ghosts are real, Zayn is a skeptical librarian and Harry gets caught up in a century-old mystery and catches feeling in the process.

[unsettledink]

Comfort (Re)Reads Recs

It's been a rough couple of weeks, both personally and just *waves hands around* you know, everything. I found myself going back to some of my comfort reads again and again and thought – you know, I bet other people are in serious need of that too.

So here's a handful of some of my favorite comfort reads across a bunch of fandoms. Most are pretty long, or series. Everything has a happy ending, but I like h/c so plenty have some hurt or angst on the way. I put the ones that have the most near that bottom.

For all of them I'd suggest looking at the author's other works too! And if you liked what you read, please tell them that it made your day a bit better. I'm off to do so myself.

Leader Of The Free World, @copperbadge

Marvel (MCU) - Steve/Tony, Bucky/Clint, 15k

Summary: Clint Barton's presidential campaign started as a joke. It didn't end that way, except for Steve.

Sixpence In His Shoe, @scifigrl47

Marvel - Steve/Tony, 100k

Summary: Steve and Tony should really read the fine print on what they're signing. Then again, some mistakes are not really mistakes.

Always Starts the Same, with a Boy and a Girl, lightgetsin

White Collar - Neal/Elizabeth/Peter, 21k

Summary: Summer, 1998. Neal Caffrey robs the gallery where Elizabeth O'Dell is working late, and comes away with a lot more than art. Agent Burke has no idea what's about to hit him.

Take Me Out,    @setepenre-set

Megamind – Megamind/Roxanne, 10k

Summary: The Metro City Wolverines are the worst team in the MLB. So Megamind, using the disguise watch to manage the stadium’s illegal betting pool, is understandably shocked when Miss Ritchi (at the stadium on a ‘date’ with Metro Man…and his mother) wants to place a bet that the Wolverines can win against the best ranked team in the league. But then, maybe the luck is turning for all of Metro City's underdogs…

My Heart Comes Tumbling Down, @devildoll

Teen Wolf – Derek/Stiles, 5k

Summary: "This is a casual, adult relationship based on sex, and it is awesome." In which Stiles and Derek have a great time buddyfucking until a burrito ruins it all.

Technical Support,    @astolat

Person of Interest – John/Harold, 13k

Summary: The IFT Plaza security team wasn't what John would have called the brightest stars in the firmament. (Written for the tech support AU prompt.)

From Thy Bounty, @ibby-writes​

Marvel (MCU) – Tony/Peter, 30k

Summary: Tony’s eyes are always dark, but now there's almost no iris left. He looks hollowed out. There’s something terribly hungry there, despite the feast they've filled themselves on.

Gift of Choice, @everysecondtuesday

Marvel (MCU) – Tony/Peter, 11k

Summary: Tony Stark had a thing about giving Peter stuff.

Feels Like Something, Maybe It Fits, @learned-foot

Marvel (MCU) – Tony/Peter, 7k

Summary:  Peter’s still not used to hearing that voice. Four months, and part of him thinks it’s a lie every time.

Better Than, unsettled (yup, it's mine. It feels weird to include it? But it was the comfort reread that set this off, so)

Marvel (MCU) – Tony/Peter, 40k

Summary: Maybe there isn't really a fixed point where it starts, where any of it starts, nothing Tony can point to and say, there, there is where I made my mistake, there is where I could have stopped this, there is where I can stop it from happening again. Maybe it shouldn’t have been something Tony tried to stop. (or: the one where Tony is going to be responsible for once, ok? He is!)

The Swear Jar, @allthemarvelousrage

Marvel (MCU) – Clint/Laura/Tony, 12k

Summary: In the last three months, she’s seen Tony go through a lot of mood changes and shifts of introspection, but she doesn’t think he’s ever been close to leaving. Then again, she doesn’t think he’s actually aware of how intertwined his life’s become with theirs, because half the time, he’s exhausted from Avengers business or exhausted from engineering binges, and the other half of the time, he’s either trading one-liners and witticisms with Clint or coloring with Lila or building things with Cooper or letting Nathan crawl all over him.

This, You Protect, @vmohlere

Marvel (MCU) - Steve/Bucky, 64k

Summary: The mission resets abruptly, from objective: kill to objective: protect

have you heard, peradi

Star Wars - Finn/Poe, Finn/Poe/Rey, 42k

Summary: "I heard FN-2187 was a Stormtrooper."

Transfigurations, Resonant

Harry Potter – Harry/Draco, 71k

Summary: Five years after Voldemort's defeat, Harry returns to England to help re-open Hogwarts.

Something Blue, Lapin

The Hobbit – Bilbo/Thorin, 34k

Summary: Thorin marries Bilbo after the Battle of Five Armies, a marriage of convenience, not love. Slowly, they must come to make the best of it, Bilbo resolves. After all, he's a Hobbit. They make the best of things.

Nothing Gold Can Stay,  @bilboo

The Hobbit – Bilbo/Thorin, 296k

Summary: Bilbo Baggins led a rather peaceful life, thank you very much, until an old acquaintance decided to turn it upside down, and he found himself agreeing to take a job that’s… let’s say not exactly up his alley, and might eventually cost him a little more than his treasured cozy lifestyle. Who would have thought tutoring a slightly menacing monarch’s more than slightly overbearing nephew could prove to be such an adventure?

Like a Comet Streaming On, @sineala

Marvel (616)– Tony/Steve, 32k

Summary: Tony escapes Afghanistan with a functioning Iron Man suit and a perfectly normal heart. He even manages to bring Ho Yinsen home safely at his side. But he may as well have lost everything... because his wolfbrother is dead. Six months later, the Avengers find Captain America, frozen in ice, miraculously alive. Everything and everyone Steve has ever known is gone -- except his wolfsister, the recipient of the lupine version of the super-soldier serum, who was frozen in his arms. Tony has everything but his wolf. Steve has only his wolf. This is how their lives fit together.

All Our Secrets Laid Bare, @firethesound

Harry Potter – Harry/Draco, 149k

Summary: Over the six years Draco Malfoy has been an Auror, four of his partners have turned up dead. Harry Potter is assigned as his newest partner to investigate just what is going on.

The End Where We Begin, @ingu

Man From UNCLE (Movie) – Illya/Napoleon, 21k

Summary: Illya kills an American spy in Zurich. Three days later, he’s staring into the face of a dead man standing in his hotel room.

A man turns around., spqr

Marvel (MCU) – Tony/Steve/Bucky, 6k

Summary: Liver failure or a lone assassin with a long-range weapon will get him eventually. He doesn’t think it will take too long, now that he’s retired. He wishes death would hurry up. If happiness were coming his way, it would’ve gotten here by now. All that’s left to do is wait. Languish in the "later life" section of his Wikipedia page. Wake up in the morning and go to bed at night. Exist, until it’s over.

[jougogo]

young & beautiful - iwaizumi hajime

a/n: hello. this broke me when i wrote it. literally, 3am and full on sobs. also, a large part of this fic was inspired by a book called hotel on the corner of bitter and sweet by jamie ford. it provides a lot of insightful views about japanese internment camps in the united states during wold war 2, so if you’re interested i would highly recommend reading it! this is a songfic to young and beautiful by lana del rey but i would recommend listening to summertime sadness as well, also by lana del rey. CLARIFICATION; this fic is set in the ww2 time period! and i like to think that iwa is a lil younger here, so maybe like 15-16? anyways ENJOY MWAH 

warnings: mentions of war, racist ppl >:( and v angsty!! 

wc: 2.1k

I've seen the world, done it all

Had my cake now

Diamonds, brilliant, in Bel-Air now

Hot summer nights, mid July

When you and I were forever wild

The crazy days, city lights

The way you'd play with me like a child

he knew that this would be the last time he sees you.

you. 

the same one wearing those new blue jeans even though it’s mid-july and the air is sickeningly humid, sitting with bare feet dangling over the edge of the rooftop at 4am, with hair softly rustling from the occasional cool breeze that made the hot california summers more bearable. 

"hey, i guess this is the last time we’ll meet on this rooftop, huh?" you said, looking out at the sleepy city.

"don't say that! you know it’s not true," he quickly chided you, but the break in his voice told you the opposite of what he was trying to convince you. what he tried to convince himself

hajime put his arm around your shoulders and sat down next to you

the two of you looked out peacefully at the quiet streets of san francisco from the top of your shared townhouse building. 

it was almost like little stars, the way that spots of brightness from the city lights were scattered sporadically through the darkness. 

"you know, if we get caught for being out this late at night, we would probably die. if the police catches us for not respecting the curfew, we would be in so much trouble. especially with the new relocation orders that the president signed, and the war hysteria, and not to mention the curfew that the government set-" he started, but was interrupted by your dreamy voice.

"i know. but i've seen the world. i've had my cake, you know ? i'm content if this is the way it ends, even if it's not me wearing diamonds and having a mansion in bel air, " you chuckled.

"hey! those were movies. they don't count as seeing the world. and also, diamonds and bel air? pfft, as if you could ever," he rebutted playfully. ever since he was a kid, he would always make it a point to take you downtown to the movie theatre and watch whatever happened to be playing that day. to be honest, he would've never stopped if it weren't for the war.

"oh, hajime. just let me dream a little, alright?" you huffed dramatically, earning a small smile from him.

the dim streetlights from the road provided just enough light to illuminated your features. oh, how he wished he could burn this memory into his mind forever. the way your eyes reflected the moon, the corner of your lips turned upwards just so slightly, a couple wisps of your hair framing your face with the rest pulled back into a lazy braid, held together by a single red ribbon. 

red.

the color red.

it brought him back to one of his favorite childhood memories; when the every neighborhood in their little japantown would come together to celebrate new years. 

the popping firecrackers, the festive lanterns and fiery signs hanging by the doors.

a time when he would explore the different stores, hand in hand with you, and later chasing you down the sloped streets for taking a bite out of the snack he bought. giggling as adults scolded them for being reckless and wild. his mouth watering as the women of the neighborhood carry out trays upon trays of delicious food, the feeling of present a warm meat bun in his hand, chimes of “itadakimasu” ringing around him. not a care in the world, just pure joy and happiness. it was always what he looked forward to as a child. 

oh, what he wouldn't give to go back to those days

Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful?

Will you still love me when I got nothin' but my aching soul?

I know you will, I know you will, I know that you will

Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful?

"will you still love me when i'm not young and beautiful?" you asked softly, pulling him out of his thoughts. he felt your small fingers wrap around his, clasping his hand. "what if the next time i see you, i'm old and wrinkly like a raisin?"

"well, i'd be a wrinkly old raisin too. so what? it doesn’t make a difference in how much i love you, " he replied nonchalantly

"then will you still love me when i’ve got nothing left but my soul?" 

upon hearing you ask yet another question, hajime stiffened

"stop asking silly questions," he finally managed to mumble out, hugging his knees closer to his chest.

"you know. they force you to leave behind all your belongings. they take everything away, iwa-chan." you spoke softly. "i'm leaving behind all my important stuff at the basement of the panama hotel. they're really nice people, you know? for letting us keep our stuff there. maybe, if we both come back, they'll still be there and we can look through our old pictures together." you said quietly, twiddling your hair ribbon between your fingers. your hair was wavy from being in the braid all day, and now they were finally freed.

free. how he wished he could be free from all these restrictions again.

he tried to think about happier memories, but everything became painful as the realization dawned on him that he will lose everything. it was inevitable. the little grocery store around the corner owned by that old married couple his mom always talks to? they were escorted away weeks ago. the ice cream parlor he loved because they would always give him extra whipped cream for ordering in japanese? shut down by the government's order. he remembered the harsh words he had heard from a group of protesters when he biked past the golden gate park on his way to run an errand for his mother.

"all japanese are dangerous. they are traitors to the country,"

and that’s when he noticed their pointed glares at him.

“i was raised here! i’d never be a traitor!” he so desperately wanted to yell. but his body told him to keep pedaling away, as fast as he possibly can.

seeing people with these horrible prejudice against him, a stranger, even a kid whom they’ve never met, felt like a stab to the heart

but it also angered hajime to no end

it was the biggest lie he's ever heard. dangerous? that's not true. ok, maybe there were a few pervy geezers, but he knew that this community that he loved was anything but dangerous.

so why are they the one being punished?

he knew he would lose everything eventually. he just didn't think he'd lose the love of his life so soon.

her family had gotten the notice two days ago. 

"sacramento. and maybe oregon. probably washington, even idaho" you had told him.

somewhere far, far away from him

he had heard that the concentration camps, or "relocation centers," as the news had put it,

were cold. 

the images of concrete, barbed wire and cramped spaces, the stories of families working relentlessly from day to night only to be treated like prisoners, and the thought of sleeping on the freezing floors filled his mind. just thinking about it made him shudder, but the scariest thing was that he doesn't know when his family will be next

growing up, your family and the iwaizumis had been neighbors. he lived on the first floor, and you lived above him. the two of you had bonded over your parent’s chatting, and having each other for dinner was a common occurrence. his parents treated you as their own child, and your parents did the same with hajime. heck, no one would bat an eye if you announced that you were going to sleep over at his house because you two practically lived together. 

you were his first love. his best friend. every moment of his childhood, had been spent with you.

you were the ribbon that held him together through his messy life, and now he was losing you

overwhelmed, he could feel his throat began to tighten. his breathing became heavier as he tried to blink back the tears that welled in his dark green eyes.

"hey. you can cry on me, if you want." you comforted him. it was like you could read him like a book, because he frantically sputtered out an excuse

“what are you talking about? and also, to answer your dumb question, i'll love you no matter what. i don't care how long it takes, or what we look like, or-"

you hovered your finger above his lips, gently shushing him.

"i know you will, haji, i know that you will," you said softly as you caressed his cheek. he looked away, but he couldn’t help but choke out a sob

you patted his head and pulled him into a hug, burying his face into the crook of your neck. warm tears dampened the sleeve of your shirt.

"please. please. i don’t want you to leave," he mumbled into your shoulder as you ran your fingers through his messy black hair.

Dear Lord, when I get to heaven

Please, let me bring my man

When he comes, tell me that You'll let him in

Father, tell me if You can

All that grace, all that body

All that face makes me wanna party

He's my sun, he makes me shine like diamonds

“maybe, one day we'll see each other again.” you said when he finally lifted his head. 

you stood up and held out your hand to him, an offer to help pull him up since he was probably sore from sitting for so long

however, he didn’t let go of your hand once he stood back up. 

“dance with me?” he asked, sniffling and wiping away the last tear.

you nodded, and he began to sway to the faint sound of jazz music coming from the nightclub a few blocks away. 

“hey, this is our swing dance routine from PE in 7th grade,” you smiled fondly at the memory as he twirled you around him, only to twirl you back into his arms. nodding in confirmation, he dipped you gracefully, his strong arms wrapped around your waist. 

that’s when he noticed the tear trickling down your cheek. it faintly sparkled in the moonlight, similar to how a diamond would.

“i’m going to miss you, hajime iwaizumi from the first floor. thank you for making me happy,” you whispered, looking up at him. he pulled you back up, and held you in his warm embrace. 

“even if we don't see each other again in this life, i'm sure i'll find you again. if you’re good, maybe i’ll see you in heaven. be good, haji. be good for me. promise?” you muttered into his chest before pulling away to look him in the eyes.

“no promises. you might have to beg god to let me in.”

“ok. i’ll see you in heaven, hajime,” you whispered, cupping his cheek

and that’s when you pulled him down for a kiss. it was a light, almost featherlike, brush across his lips. your elbows were resting on his shoulders, and your forearm crossed behind his neck. hajime leaned his forehead against yours, the tips of your noses just barely touching 

“can we stay like this, for a little while longer?” he asked breathily, still reeling in shock from his first kiss

“mhm. i love you, hajime.” you answered, gazing into his pretty green eyes as they fluttered open. 

in the distance, you could see that the had sun begun rising over the horizon, enveloping the two of you in the warm light of morning. you basked in the serene orange glow, admiring every feature of the beautiful boy in front of you. 

“i love you,”

he can’t wait to find you again.

tags!! @deadontheinsidebut (ilysm mwah ty for supporting me!!) @aka-a-shii (here you go i hope you enjoy bby!!!) @toshisgarden (mwah mwah ilysm)

[alj4890]

May the Fourth Be With You Drabble

(Thomas Hunt x OC) in a And Then I Met You Drabble.

A/N I am a big, we're talking huge, Star Wars dork. I also love the books by Jeffrey Brown showing Darth Vader as a father to little Luke and Leia. Since Thomas and Amanda have a set of fraternal twins after their daughter, Kathleen, in this AU; this idea came to me today.

@lxaah11   @alleksa16   @penguininapinktuxedo   @blackcoffee85   @stopforamoment           @krsnlove     @annekebbphotography        @hopelessromantic1352   . @sunflowergirl05      @greywitchyshots   @lilyoffandoms  @moodyvalentinestories  @emceesynonymroll   @my-heart-beats-for-ya @aworldoffandoms   @ab1901     @lolablackwrites     @flyawayboo   @sophxwithers​   @trappedinfandoms   @esmckenzie. @choicesficwriterscreations

Masterlist

May The Fourth

Every few minutes there was some type of pounding of footsteps running past or squeals. An occasional argument could be detected, yet mercifully Thomas couldn't make out the words.

Of all the days, why had Amanda agreed to host a playdate between their three children and Addison and Matt's brood of five?

He tried once more to focus his attention on a potential screenplay he had been given. There were some scenes that he had difficulty picturing as the voices beyond his study door rose and fell like the tide.

He jumped when his door was thrown open and his son, Ian, burst in. Out of breath, the little four year old quickly shut the door and pressed his body to it.

"Ian, I thought I told you I didn't want to be disturbed." Thomas reminded him. "When that door is shut, it means I am working."

"Sorry." Ian whispered. "But it's May the fourth!"

Thomas merely blinked. "And?"

"And they're after me because I'm your son!" Ian gleefully explained.

"Who--"

Kathleen poked her head inside. "There you are! Hurry! We found a way past the guards!"

"Coming!" Ian dashed after his older sister.

Thomas softly groaned and shut his door once more.

Just as he was deep within another scene, he was startled by his youngest child peeping over his arm.

Four year old Elizabeth' s eyes narrowed at the paper in his hand. "Are those the plans?"

"Elizabeth," Thomas muttered. "Go play with your siblings and friends."

He made the mistake of looking at her face. Her big hazel eyes, so like her mother's, were filled with sadness when she turned toward him.

"But Daddy, it's May the Fourth!" She pointed at her hair made up with two small buns at her ears and the white nightgown she was wearing. "It's your turn!"

"Turn for what?"

"To be in the story!" Elizabeth took his hand and tugged. "Come on, Daddy!"

"I am working." He reminded her. "When I finish, I will come see what it is you're talking about."

"But then it will be too late!" She wailed.

"Elizabeth, I don't--"

Just then Ian appeared with a toy lightsaber.

"There you are, princess!" Ian said with all the drama worthy of being a director's son. "I'm here to rescue you!"

Elizabeth sighed. "You forgot to say who you are."

Ian's frown firmed at that. "I'm Luke Skywalker."

"And?" Elizabeth prompted.

"Oh! I came with Ben Kenobi."

"Obi-wan! Here!" She replied.

"Yeah." Ian grabbed her hand and tugged.

"Aren't you going to fight Daddy?" Elizabeth asked her twin.

"I don't fight him now. Mommy does." Ian explained.

"But, I'm with him." She looked up at their father.

Ian tilted his head too at this unexpected development. "But he isn't in costume yet!"

"Oh." Elizabeth's shoulders dropped. "Daddy! You have to change! Your part is coming up."

Knowing it was futile to keep arguing with these two, Thomas set the screenplay in his desk drawer."

"Those were the Death Star plans." Elizabeth said in a loud whisper.

"They were?" Ian's eyes widened.

Thomas's lips trembled with mirth. "It is fully operational."

Ian and Elizabeth's mouths dropped open at his deep voice reminding them what the Death Star was capable of. They both had to fight their giddiness at finally having their father play with them.

When Thomas followed them out, he saw the complete transformation of his home. The living room had multiple rolling chairs in different positions. A tan blanket covered the floor in one corner with stuffed Jawas strewn about.

He noticed his daughter, Kathleen, dressed in gold and moving like a robot with Addison's youngest, Myles, wearing a blue shirt and a silver mixing bowl on his head.

Michael and Marcus jumped out from behind the couch toward their two little sisters. Marcus was clearly Han Solo while his tall older brother was Chewbacca. Both of the Rodriguez girls were Storm Troopers.

As they made pew pew sounds while aiming toy guns at each other, he saw Ian help his twin up on a recliner. The two looked down while Elizabeth wrapped her arms around her brother.

Ian mimed throwing a rope at the ceiling fan. His little face scrunched in disgust when Elizabeth kissed his cheek.

"For luck." She told him.

The two jumped off the chair, neither able to hide their smiles as they ran off once more.

While dodging the Rodriguez battle, Thomas made his way upstairs.

"Stupid beard." He could hear his wife mutter in the master bathroom. "Why do men even bother?"

Thomas leaned against the doorframe and watched her try to loop the beard just so around her ears. She had on one of his old tan bathrobes with the hood pulled up to hide her dark hair in a bun.

She smiled when she noticed him. "There you are!" She kissed his cheek while hurrying to point out his costume she had prepared on the bed. "Hurry. Our big lightsaber battle is about to start."

"So I heard." He folded his arms. "I was trying to get some work in before we leave for Cordonia."

"But it's May the Fourth." Amanda replied, as if he should automatically know what that meant.

"Yes, our children have been repeating the date to me with each interruption." He reached out to straighten her lopsided beard. "Why does that matter?"

"May the Fourth?" She repeated. "May the Force Be with You."

"Ah." His children had become obsessed with the franchise. "And I'm Darth Vader."

"Well, not to point out the obvious," Amanda's smile brought his own out, "but you are the father of twins."

He snorted softly.

She wrapped her arms around him. "I know you wanted to work, but these moments we have with them are rushing by so fast. Soon they won't want us to play with them." She raised her hand to his cheek. "An hour or so won't matter with work but it will to them."

She had hit in the one area he could never say no to. If there was one group of people he would drop everything for, it was his family.

"What am I supposed to wear?"

She kissed him then burst out laughing when he told her she better shave before doing that again.

Within minutes he was dressed in all black, had a cape on, and the voice modulated Vader mask had been placed over his head.

Amanda tossed him a red lightsaber while snatching up a blue one.

"Just in case you forgot," her eyes twinkled with mischief, "I was trained in fencing by some of the best masters in Europe."

"Yes, but I'm the master now." He taunted back.

Her smile, so like the excited ones on their children's faces, brought out his own once more as he followed her downstairs.

All the children froze when they heard the familiar breathing sound.

"Rebel scum." He greeted with a slight bow. "Princess, shouldn't you still be in your cell?"

Elizabeth clasped her hands over her mouth while bouncing in excitement.

"You'll never get ahold of her again!" Ian yelled out. "Right, Marcus-I mean Han?"

"Yeah! Chewie and I are getting paid for this rescue." Marcus nudged his brother.

Michael tried to do the growl, causing Kathleen to giggle.

"Lord Vader!" Ashley and Ally saluted him. "We've rounded them up for you."

"Excellent." He replied. "Though I sense something I haven't felt in a long time."

"Get him Ben!" Ian cheered when his mother turned her lightsaber on.

All the children sat down and watched the two adults fight. The couple gave them a sparring match that had them cheering with each near blow.

Amanda winked at Thomas. "If you strike me down, I shall become more powerful than you could possibly imagine."

Lifting his lightsaber, he slowly brought it across her. She fell to the ground, his large robe hiding her body perfectly.

The children gasped. Ian, remembering that he was supposed to react to Ben dying, jumped to his feet and yelled out, no.

The rest of the time was spent with the kids in various rolling chairs, pretending to fly and dodge each other. Thomas remained behind his son until Michael and Marcus sneaked up behind him, sending his chair to spin as it rolled off into a corner.

After Elizabeth gave them medals, Amanda called an end to their playing by saying that lunch was ready.

Thomas collapsed on the sofa after pulling his mask and cape off. He wished he had thought to film their play. Each one had truly tried to be the characters they portrayed.

Amanda leaned over his shoulder and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"I shaved for you." She teased.

He chuckled while tugging her around to sit with him.

"Do you think they had a good time?" He asked.

The children's excited voices could be heard, each fighting for a chance to share their favorite parts.

"Very much so." She replied, resting her head on his shoulder. "They will remember this...always."

[bronte-deserves-better]

Hey @stars-and-splendors! I was your secret santa for the kotlc fandom gift exchange. Sorry this is a little late- I meant to give it to you Christmas day or the day after, but the fic got away from me a little...I hope the wait will have been worth it! 

Without further ado, I present to you: 4.5k words of Keefe and Fitz trying to dance around their feelings for each other, feat. a few moments of shitty parents and some very tired friends/sisters. 

Title: to find what you’re looking for

Summary: 

The war is over. The Neverseen is defeated.

In the new, peaceful world, Keefe and Fitz are attending the Elite Towers, soon to graduate. Yet both of them feel like they're missing something. When Keefe comes up with a scheme to prank their parents, both of their worlds may change forever- with the help of a few exasperated friends and supportive elder gays, of course.

Wordcount: 4514

Warnings: homophobia, internalized homophobia, swearing.

AO3 Link

(Actual fic under the cut)

“Hey. Psst. Fitz.”

Fitz jumped, startled at the voice. “Keefe? Where are you?”

“Over here. Ditching class. Like usual.”

He followed Keefe’s voice to the secluded little hallway that the other boy used for ditching, finding Keefe sprawled out on the bench as usual. “What are you doing here?”

“Ditching class, like I said. What about you, handsome?” Keefe flashed a smirk, which Fitz knew meant he meant that in a joking way. Or, figured, at least.

“Also ditching class.”

“Seriously? That’s not like you, Fitzy.”

Fitz shrugged. “I’m feeling rebellious lately, I guess. It just seems like we’ve all been through so much and yet adults are still trying to tell us what’s good for us, like we weren’t the ones who defeated the Neverseen.”

“Fuck, yeah. That’s definitely. Yeah.” Keefe stared at the ground, suddenly serious. “Everyone’s been like that, huh?”

“Well, not everyone, I guess. Sir Tiergan’s not bad about it, but he fusses so much about me and Sophie.”

“Oh, right, you’re supposed to be in telepathy. Won’t Sophie notice you’re gone?”

“Yeah, but that’s why I’m out here. No one will find me.”

Keefe nodded and patted the bench next to him, straightening up a little. “Come on, there’s room for two.”

“Thanks.”

They sat in silence for a few moments, staring at the white walls of the Level Six wing.

“So,” Keefe said eventually.

“So.”

“You wanna spill about what’s bugging you so much?”

Fitz could feel himself tense, but he forced his muscles to relax a little. Keefe just cared about him because they were friends. Yeah. “I don’t know. I just feel directionless. Like, we defeated the Neverseen and did this whole big thing, and now it’s over. It feels like- no, it is like- I’ve been fighting this war my whole life, Keefe.”

“Cause your dad-“

“Sent me to the Forbidden Cities when I was a child to search for Sophie.”

“Kinda a dick move of him, really.”

“N- Yeah. Yeah, it was a dick move of him.”

Keefe scooted a little closer, and Fitz’s breath caught just a tiny bit. “Hey, I know what it’s like. I mean, my dad never sent me to do illegal shit for him when I was a kid, yeah, but I mean….yeah. Mommy dearest and all. My parents are shit in a different way than your dad, but I get it. So I guess what I’m trying to say is…I’m here for you, and I know that sounds 100% cheesy but I really do mean it.”

“Oh. I mean, thank you. I should probably tell you I’m here for you too, since that really is true as well.” Fitz’s brain was not functioning, he decided.

“Ah, I knew that. You all told me so much back when mommy dearest was fucking up my life. Still, I appreciate it.”

“It’s always been true. Even when we were fighting over Sophie.”

Keefe snorted. “That was weird, honestly. Like, it was so obvious from the start that she wasn’t straight. Must’ve been pretty wild for you when she ended up with your sister, though.”

Fitz shrugged. “I had been over her for a while.” And questioning his sexuality, but he wasn’t going to tell Keefe that. Backers didn’t do that. Vackers weren’t gay- well, except Biana. But that was okay, Fitz knew she wasn’t any worse for it. Still, it wasn’t like he was gay.

“Fitzy boi, you with me?”

“Yeah sorry. Got lost in thought. What were you saying?”

Keefe grinned. “Well, I was saying that on the topic of shitty parents and gayness, I have an excellent way to piss off both our parents.”

“Go on?” Fitz was pretty sure Keefe’s plan would be ridiculously over the top and hilarious, but he was pretty ready to go along with whatever.

“Right, so, you know how there’s an end of year ball for Elite Tower students? Cause we have to be ready for the nobility and all? What if we went together?”

“Are you asking me out?” Fitz blurted.

“Ah, I wish. Nah, I’m asking if you’ll be my fake date to a ball so my dad will have a heart attack. If you’re okay with that, that is. Like, no pressure.” Keefe suddenly looked shy, and Fitz could hardly refuse that look. Besides, it would be fun to give his and Keefe’s dads a collective heart attack.

“Okay, I’m in.”

-

The next two weeks were spent plotting and planning as to how they would pull this off, with Sophie and Biana as their enthusiastic wingwomen.

“Okay, so, Biana’s already planning you guys’ outfits,” Sophie told Keefe as she walked back into her room at Havenfield, where Keefe was currently visiting.

“Tell her to make me look fabulous,” Keefe declared with a great deal of drama, doing his best to flop back onto the bed.

“I will, trust me. But I wanted to ask you about some other stuff related to this, since the Vackers are outfit shopping and you know I don’t do that.”

“Ok, fire away.”

“One, are you asking Fitz to this thing to piss off your dad or because you have a crush on him? Two, how dramatic should your prom-posal be?”

“As dramatic as possible.” Keefe hoped against hope Sophie would forget about her first question. “Like, we’ve got to be extra about it.”

“Ok. And about my first question?”

“I....I’m doing this for a lot of reasons. One, Fitzy boi needs to lighten up a bit. Two, I love him. Three, I would kill to see my dads expression when he finds out.”

“I kinda figured.”

“I’m that obvious? Guess I’ve upped my flirting game.” He shot a wink to Sophie, who just sighed.

“Keefe, you’re never as subtle as you think you are.”

“Damnit.”

“Yeah. Apparently your lack of subtly is only matched by my obliviousness.”

“Well, thankfully for me, Fitz is just as oblivious as you.”

Sophie sighed. “He’s going to find out someday. I did, you know.”

“Well I’ll make sure that day is far away, because he’s way out of my league.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Nopity nope nope. You two deserve each other, and I mean that in a good way.”

“Stop being so nice,” Keefe whined.

“No can do. Now let’s plan how you’re going to dramatically ask him to elf prom.”

-

The ‘promposal’, as Sophie had deemed it, took place in the atrium of the Gold Tower. They had agreed that Keefe would do the asking, since Sophie was far more interested in arranging a dramatic proposition, and Biana was far more interested in making sure that the two boys would look fantastic for the party. So all Fitz had to do was hang around and wait for his best friend to show up.

Thankfully, Keefe didn’t keep him waiting long, sweeping into the room like he owned the place. Maybe he did own Foxfire, really, the gorgeous boy who could charm people with a wink. He was certainly charming Fitz, not that Fitz was going to tell him that.

“Hello, my dearest Fitz!”

“Hey, Keefe.”

“I have a question of utmost importance for you.” By now, Keefe had come close enough that Fitz could see a hint of a blush staining the other’s pale cheeks.

“Oh, go on?”

“Wellllll.” Keefe dragged out the word, fidgeting with something behind his back, which he whipped out to reveal a gorgeous bouquet with flowers of silver, gold, and elegant teal. “Will you be my date to the end of year ball?”

This is staged. This is all staged. He’s not really interested in you, Fitz reminded himself. Still, he must have sounded a little breathless when he replied. “Yes, I would love to.”

“Well then I shall await you at the bottom of the staircase two weeks from now!” Keefe bowed dramatically and handed him the flower arrangement.

“I’ll be there,” Fitz promised quietly, flowers tickling his chin and Keefe’s grin making his cheeks heat.

“Oh, wonderful.” Keefe smirked again and practically danced away as the rest of the prodigies stared at the two of them.

-

“I hear you caused quite the scene today.”

Keefe jumped, looking around and then finally down to see who had said that. “Oh, hi, Councillor Grumpypants. What are you doing here?”

Bronte glared at him without much real anger. “Sophie and I’s session is in this tower, remember? I’m just waiting on this landing because someone’s using our classroom right now.”

“Right, gotcha.” Keefe fiddled with the hem of his tunic, trying not to seem too nervous. “Do you disapprove of scene-causing? Seems like a pretty old and grumpy thing to do.”

“Ha ha. I might have few qualms about distracting other prodigies, but I see no harm in you asking Fitz to the end of year ball. Honestly, it doesn’t seem all that surprising that you did.”

“Do I vibe as that gay?”

“I have no idea what you mean by vibe, but yes, I assumed you were queer.”

Keefe snorted. “Okay, so even the old people think I’m hopelessly in love with my best friend.”

“Well, not exactly all that,” Bronte said dryly, “But as the…how did Zarina put it? ‘Gayest motherfucker on the Council’, I know a baby queer when I see one.”

“Gayest motherfucker on the Council…that’s fabulous.”

“Indeed. Now I have a session to get to, and I’m sure you do too, but…good luck with your date.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m sure it will go well, and trust me, Leto will shut down anyone who tries to give you shit for it pretty damn quickly.”

“Good to know.” Keefe watched the older elf hurry away and up the stairs, muttering under his breath about ‘need to get an actual timepiece one of these days’. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all…

-

Fitz was pretty sure both Sophie and Sir Tiergan could tell he wasn’t actually concentrating that day in telepathy, too busy thinking about teal-and-silver flowers and Keefe’s little blush. Could Keefe really like him like that? Why did he even want Keefe to like him like that?

Sophie didn’t seem to mind, just sending him a few knowing looks, although Tiergan seemed vaguely worried. “Fitz, are you with us?”

“Oh, yeah! Sorry, Sir Tiergan.”

“There’s really no need to call me sir,” Tiergan sighed, for about the thousandth time since Sophie and Fitz had started telepathy sessions together. “Really. And no need to apologize either, you just seem a little distant today.”

“Probably got a lot on his mind,” Sophie spoke up, nudging Fitz gently. “I know I’d have a lot on my mind if someone brought me flowers and asked me to a ball.”

“Ah, yes. Do try to concentrate on your telepathy, but I can understand that.” Tiergan shot Fitz a gentle smile, and Fitz ducked his head and nodded. 

The session went by fast enough, and before Fitz knew it, the session was over and Tiergan was asking him to stay back. “Not for long, I don’t want to make you later, but I figured I’d check in.”

“O- okay.”

“See you, Fitz!” Sophie called. “I’m going to go tease our lovely friend about how blushy he gets around you!”

“Bye,” Fitz called, and Tiergan smiled again.

“I was actually going to talk to you about that ‘lovely friend’, assuming that’s Keefe?”

Fitz stared at the slightly shorter elf, debating what to say. “Yeah- yeah, that’s him.”

“I guessed so.” Tiergan fiddled with his sleeves for a moment, seeming uncharacteristically hesitant. “I wanted to tell you that you two are very brave for this- it’s not unheard of, but it will be a shock. That, and I hope it will be somewhat easier for you than it was for me when I was your age.”

“You’re-“

“Have you seen the way I look at Leto?”

Fitz had to admit that was a fair point. “I guess I should have known earlier, but I didn’t want to assume.”

“Very polite of you, but I would find it more than fair to assume my queerness based off my general demeanor,” Tiergan said wryly. “Anyways, to bring us back around to our original topic of conversation, I also wanted to let you know that you have Leto and I’s full support. If anyone gives you shit for this, I want you to tell me and I will ensure they don’t get away with it.”

“Benefits of having the principal for a boyfriend,” Fitz muttered before he could think to stop himself, and then clapped a hand over his mouth. “I’m so sorry, I’ve been hanging out with Keefe too much.”

Tiergan flushed lightly. “No, no, you’re right. Though I will say, Leto has spent a long time trying to protect students who are cast out or fall through the cracks. Now that he’s in a position of power, neither of us have qualms about using it to help any student who could use it. So please, come to me or Leto if you need anything, or anyone bothers you. And I’m not saying that because I pity you or anything of the sort, but because I wish some adult had told me this when I was your age.”

“Oh.”

The older elf smiled sadly. “Indeed. But now I get to make sure the next generation has it better than I did, and that’s something.”

Fitz nodded. “I think that’s a really kind thing.”

“Thank you. It’s really the bare minimum of what I could do, but…somehow I never find the time to help out as much as I would like.” Tiergan glanced at the clock. “Anyways, I’m making you late for your next session, so hurry on your way. You can tell your mentor I kept you late and to take it up with me if they’ve got a problem.”

“Okay!” Maybe this wasn’t such a terrible plan after all…

-

The end-of-year-ball was approaching quickly, and Keefe’s nerves grew as quickly as the days between now and then passed. Which was very quickly, what with finals coming up. Fitz and Keefe were studying for them together, of course, which made for a lot of late nights in each of their rooms in the Silver Tower, laughing, talking, and pretending to quiz each other on the material but not getting far without getting distracted. Fitz was always beautiful, Keefe thought, but perhaps the most lovely when he was sitting in the cozy room, laughing at some silly thing Keefe had said or brandishing flashcards mock-sternly. His eyes shone a little in the silvery lighting, and his hair fell across his face cutely, and Keefe might have been a tiny bit in love. Just a bit.

So they kept hanging out together, one night after another. Sometimes they talked about fun things like baking or pranking, sometimes they talked about serious things like the past or the Black Swan, and (rarely) they studied. And before they knew it, they had passed all their finals and it was time for a ball.

-

Fitz fiddled with the clasp of his cape one last time as Biana put the final touches on his hairstyle. “Are you sure this is good enough?”

“Please, I know good fashion when I see it.” His sister flipped her hair, and then shot him a reassuring smile. “Keefe will pass the fuck out, in a good way. And all the stuffy nobles will think you look fabulous right before you dance with one of their sons.”

“How do you pass out in a good way?”

“I mean that you’ll knock everyone dead. Boys. Honestly.”

Biana turned him around to look at himself in the mirror, and Fitz did have to admit that she’d done a good job. He was wearing an elegant tunic in a shade of medium blue, nearly cobalt, and a much darker jerkin over that which faded from green to blue with elegant silver embroidery over it. His cape followed a similar color scheme, and it fit perfectly, falling around his shoulders and down to the ground, where the hem was also embroidered with silver and tiny flecks of lumenite. Biana had styled his hair slightly asymmetrical, more so than he would usually wear it, and sprinkled tiny bits of silver across that too. He didn’t know if he was drop-dead gorgeous per se, but it was an outfit he could feel confident in.

“Okay, you did a good job,” Fitz admitted.

“Of course I did. Now get on down there and knock them dead.”

His nerves only increased as he descended the staircase, despite his endless repetitions of ‘it’s not a real date’. It didn’t matter how much he said that, the fluttery feeling in his stomach about Keefe seeing him all dressed up was not going away.

When he reached the bottom, Keefe was already standing there, and Fitz momentarily forgot how to breathe. The other boy’s equally intricate ice blue jerkin matched his eyes perfectly, and his blonde hair had little bits of pure gold braided into the parts that were long enough to do small braids on. The rest was artfully messed as ever, but in the sort of way that made you think Keefe had spent a long time getting it perfect. His silvery boots made a click click noise on the silver floor as he stepped to greet Fitz, and Fitz had to blink a few times to get his mouth to work again.

“Hey there, Fitzy boi.”

“Hey.” It was a pitiful greeting, but it was the best he could really manage at the particular moment. “You look…really incredible.”

“And you’re as stunning as ever.” Keefe’s grin seemed less confident than usual, a hint of genuine shyness behind it as Keefe ducked his head a little.

“Flatterer.”

“Only the right level of flattery for you.” Keefe extended his arm. “Shall we go?”

Still barely breathing, Fitz took his arm as they headed for the Leapmaster.

-

Fitz was stunning. Beyond stunning. He was some entirely new level of gorgeous that Keefe would have to invent a word for when his brain started working again, which he doubted would be anytime soon given Fitz’s close proximity to him. Standing at the bottom of that staircase, all dressed up in his finery, he had truly looked like an heir to the Vacker Legacy, but he was so much more than that. Whether he’d been born a Vacker or into the least-well off Talentless family, Fitz would always have been kind, unique, handsome Fitz, and Keefe would have loved him just the same. Keefe doubted the courage and strength that Fitz always carried with him would be any different had he been born to a different family, doubted there was any universe in which Fitz wasn’t his gorgeous, fierce self.

He managed to concentrate enough to get them safely to the ballroom, although if he hadn’t, he had no doubt Fitz would have more than made up for it with his ridiculously strong concentration. Speaking of strength, Fitz was gripping Keefe’s hand tightly as they arrived, and Keefe squeezed back gently, staring over the crowded ballroom.

Tonight, nobles, parents, and Elite Tower students all mingled, a preparation for balls and parties that the Elite Tower students would likely attend later in life. It was a much looked-forward-to event. And Keefe and Fitz, two male prodigies, would be attending it together, which was an extremely rare occurrence. In fact, Keefe could already see people staring at them in their position on the landing.

He squeezed Fitz’s hand again. “Let’s go down to the dance floor, shall we?”

Fitz nodded shakily, and they descended the staircase arm in arm. The staring only increased, but if Keefe pretended that it was just girls staring at him in Level Four because they thought he was hot again, he could mostly ignore it.

What was harder to ignore were the furious parents sweeping over to them.

“Keefe, I can’t believe you would disgrace the family like this-“

“So good to see you with your friend, Fitz.” Alden looked like he was speaking through gritted teeth. Keefe would have liked to punch those teeth right out of his mouth.

“I know, Keefe is a wonderful boyfriend.” Fitz’s voice was calm, but electric blue spirals of fear drifted through Keefe’s emotional ‘vision’.

Before Alden had a chance to say anything further, Della lightly tugged his arm. “Let’s go say hi to the Glixina family, darling.” She shot them a tiny smile, prompting a wave of soft purple relief from Fitz as Alden allow himself to be dragged off.

Unfortunately for Keefe, Cassius was not so easily dissuaded. “Really, Keefe. Parading around with boys on your arm-“

“I make my own choices,” Keefe muttered.

“And is one of them this?”

Keefe forced himself to look up and smirk. “Nah, I didn’t choose to fall in love with him. Just to ask him out.”

Cassius sputtered more, but before he could gather the coherence to say anything, Tiergan had come sweeping over with all the frozen grace of a swan. “Excuse me, Lord Sencen. My dear friend Leto would like a word with you about your son. I’m sure you understand that some matters are very important.”

“Well, Sir Tiergan, I’m in the middle of speaking to said son currently.”

“This truly cannot wait. Please, follow me.” Tiergan swept away again, practically dragging Cassius in his wake.

Sorry about that, Tiergan’s voice echoed in Keefe’s head. Leto will thoroughly lecture him about all this, I promise. And you don’t have to talk to him anymore tonight if you don’t want to, we arranged the ball and we can keep him away from you.

Keefe startled, squeezing Fitz’s hand. “Fitz-“

“Yeah?”

“Can you transmit something to Tiergan? He just told me that he’d keep my dad away from us, I want to thank him.”

Fitz flashed a tiny, hesitant smile. “As you wish.” He closed his (stunning, lovely) eyes briefly, and then blinked them open again. “Sent. He says ‘of course, let me know if you need anything else’.”

“Thanks, Fitzy boi.” Keefe offered a grin of his own. “Now that the parents are out of the way…may I have this dance?”

“Of course.”

The dance steps were familiar, and that was lucky, since Keefe wasn’t exactly paying good attention to what he was doing. Not after everything that had just happened- and not when Fitz had a hand on his waist. Elven music wasn’t as good to lose yourself in as the human music Sophie had showed him, but Keefe found it pretty easy to get lost just focusing on Fitz. The music swirled around them, and the floor was steady under their feet, and even the stares of others weren’t so noticeable when it was just the two of them dancing together. One step. Another. Always in rhythm. Keefe wondered a little if this was what it was like for Cognates, if their minds synced the way dance partners who knew each other well did. He had to admit to a little jealousy that he would never know what the kind of bond felt like, but…hey. It was pretty okay to be an empath, especially since he could see Fitz’s bubbling pink-and-blue happiness float through the air. It might have been a difficult, nerve-wracking entrance, but Fitz was happy to be dancing with Keefe and that was all Keefe could really ask for. Although…Keefe frowned at the slight mist of green sorrow hanging around the other, tempering his joy and keeping the bubbles from floating as far as they should have.

“Hey, Fitz.”

“Yeah?”

“You good?”

“Yeah- yeah, I am.”

They took another few steps in silence.

“Hey, Keefe?”

“Yeah?”

Fitz sucked in a slow breath, and a few lines of tension pulled around his form. “When you told your dad that you had fallen in love with me…”

Shit. “Yeah?”

“Your heart didn’t skip any beats.”

It was Keefe’s turn to suck in a breath and try to find something, anything to say in reply to that. “Maybe- I mean, I was mostly trying to piss him off.” He could feel his treacherous heart skip one-two-three this time.

“I felt your heart skip that time.”

“Okay, so….maybe I liked you. A little. Or a lot. And maybe I think you’re handsome and brave and kind and all that, and maybe I asked you to the ball partially because my dad would be mad but partially because I just wanted to be with you but you’re Fitz fucking Vacker and I’ve never had a chance-“ Keefe forced himself to take a breath and a step back from Fitz, unable to bear feeling the other’s emotions as well as his own right now.

“Keefe, wait, I-“ Fitz reached out a hand, and then pulled it back. “I love you too. And I think you should know that because no matter how much better you think I am than you, or whatever, you’re always going to be the guy who pulled me out of my shy little shell as a kid and then kept doing it, over and over and over. You’re always going to be the guy who stuck with me even when I was a major jerk, the guy who helped pull me out of my shell again and realize I wasn’t as straight as everyone thought. And more than that, you’re Keefe. I know you think that’s a bad thing, but it’s not. It’s the highest compliment I could give.”

People were staring at them again.

Keefe barely noticed. “Give me your hand.”

“As you wish.” Fitz held out his hand, and Keefe pushed his empathy out to the other. A little hint of fear, of nervousness… lingering joy from the moments before, and beneath that, glowing golden hope. No guilt, no shame. Nothing to make him think Fitz was in any way lying even if what the other boy had just said seemed too good to be true.

“You really- you really love me like that?”

“Yeah.” Fitz laughed, a little sadly. “It took me forever to notice, but I should have known the day you asked if we could go to the ball together. Or before that, even.”

“Well I fucking love you too. Have since we were young, really, but Sophie fucked with my brain and I didn’t see it until you and Sophie broke up. I thought I was jealous of you, but...all this time, I’ve been jealous of her.”

Fitz’s smile was so, so gentle. “I’m sorry it took me so long to realize.”

“And I’m sorry I didn’t just ask you out the day I suggested this whole fake dating,” Keefe joked. “Seriously, you took your time, but…that’s okay. I was willing to wait.”

And the gorgeous teal-eyed boy who Keefe was starting to realize might be his reached out a hand to cup Keefe’s cheek. “Do you mind if I kiss you?”

“What a scandal it’ll be.” Keefe wasn’t sure he was actually breathing. “But no, I don’t mind.”

So Fitz kissed him in front of the entire goddamn ballroom, and Keefe couldn’t have been happier.

[padawanlost]

I thought it was less ‘choosing not to talk about it’ and more ‘the Jedi want him to disconnect from his past and won’t let him talk about it’ or am i misremembering?

It’s both. Anakin’s ‘I don’t want to talk about my past’ behavior is a result of his inability to express himself without being reprimanded and his unwillingness to face his trauma. When he was a kid Anakin was pretty open about his thoughts and feelings. The isolation he experience as an adult was a learned behavior. Anakin was always proud and refused to allow his slave status to be used against him, something he learned from Shmi.  But he wasn’t ashamed of it either. He openly talked about his past with complete strangers when he was a kid.

They sat down to eat Shmi’s dinner a short while after, the storm still howling without, an eerie backdrop of sound against the silence within. Qui-Gon and Padmé occupied the ends of the table, while Anakin, Jar Jar, and Shmi sat at its sides. Anakin, in the way of small boys, began talking about life as a slave, in no way embarrassed to be doing so, thinking of it only as a fact of his life and anxious to share himself with his new friends. Shmi, more protective of her son’s station, was making an effort to help their guests appreciate the severity of their situation. [Terry Brooks. The Phantom Menace]

There was a moment of awkward silence, and then Anakin replied, “Yes, Master.” Obi-Wan wasn’t sure, but he thought he detected a hint of resentment in Anakin’s voice. He hadn’t considered that Anakin, because of his experience on Tatooine, might be sensitive to calling anyone Master. Obi-Wan sighed, then said, “Please don’t think it gives me pleasure to admonish you, Padawan. I can only imagine what it was like for you to grow up as a slave, and I —” “Do you ever miss your mother?” Anakin interrupted. The question caught Obi-Wan off guard, but he recovered fast to answer, “No. No, I don’t. I never knew her, not really. I was still an infant when I arrived here, at the Temple.” “Then maybe we can make a deal,” Anakin said, and Obi-Wan could tell that the boy was trying to keep his voice from trembling. “You won’t feel sorry for me because I was once a slave, and I won’t feel sorry for you because you don’t miss your mother.” [Ryder Windham. The Life and Legend of Obi-Wan Kenobi]

Fear, hatred, anger. . The old trio Anakin fought every day of his life, though he revealed his deepest emotions to only one man: Obi-Wan Kenobi, his master in the Jedi Temple. The Blood Carver stooped slightly on his three-jointed legs. "You smell like a slave," he said softly, for Anakin's ears alone. It was all Anakin could do to keep from throwing off his wings and going for the Blood Carver's long throat. He swal lowed his emotions down into a private cold place and stored them with the other dark things left over from Tatooine. The Blood Carver was on target with his insult, which stiffened Anakin's anger and made it harder to control himself. Both he and his mother, Shmi, had been slaves to the supercilious junk dealer, Watto. When the Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn had won him from Watto, they had had to leave Shmi behind. . something Anakin thought about every day of his life. [Greg Bear. Rogue Planet]

The Blood Carver was not helping. His irritation at the delay was apparently being channeled into ragging the human boy at his side, and Anakin was soon going to have to put up some sort of defense to show he was not just a stage prop. "I hate the smell of a slave," the Blood Carver said. "I wish you'd stop saying that," Anakin said. The closest thing he had to a weapon was his small welder, pitiful under the circumstances. The Blood Carver outmassed him by many tens of kilos."I refuse to compete with a lower order of being, a slave. It brings disgrace upon my people, and upon we." "What makes you think I'm a slave?" Anakin asked as mildly as he could manage and not appear even more vulnerable. [Greg Bear. Rogue Planet]

The Blood Carver had hurt Obi-Wan, threatened Jabitha, called Anakin a slave. For these things there was no possible redemption. [...] "What will you do, slave boy?"  It was the connection Anakin had sought, the link between his anger and his power. Like a switch being thrown, a circuit being connected, he returned full circle to the pit race, to the sting he had felt with the Blood Carver's first insult, with the first unfair and sneaky move that had sent Anakin tumbling off the apron. Then, back farther, to the dingy slave quarters on Tatooine, to the Boonta Eve Podrace and the treachery of the Dug, and to the last sight of Shmi, still in bondage to the disgusting Watto, to all the insults and injuries and shames and night sweats and disgrace piled upon disgrace that he had never asked for, never deserved, and had borne with almost infinite patience.[Greg Bear. Rogue Planet]

Obi-Wan could not reassure Anakin that his words were spoken out of haste. He was worried about the effect of this mission on Anakin. If they did engage with Krayn, Anakin's deepest emotions would be tapped. Obi-Wan knew his Padawan had not begun to truly deal with the years of shame and anger he had passed as a slave. Someday he would confront this. Obi-Wan fervently wished that day to be in the future, after Anakin had honed his training. Yet he had the feeling that this was exactly why Mace Windu and Yoda had chosen them. It was not the first time Obi-Wan had suspected the Council of being too harsh. [Jude Watson. Path to Truth]

"The planet's leader, Aga Culpa, has made an agreement with Krayn that its people will remain free in exchange for Krayn's control of the factories," Mazie explained. "There is not much honest work on Nar Shaddaa, and the guards are well paid. So tell me, how do you come to be here? Is this your first experience as a slave?" "I was free when I was captured, but I was raised as a slave on Tatooine," Anakin said. [Jude Watson. Book 01 - Path to Truth]

"Lying again," Deland said to Anakin. "No human can be a Podracer." "One was," Doby said. "A human child. A slave. He won his freedom, and after the race he disappeared. His name was — " "Anakin Skywalker," Anakin supplied. "Pleased to meet you." "Now you're a Jedi?" Doby asked in disbelief. "And you were a slave?" "It's a strange galaxy," Anakin said with a grin. [...] "I'm sorry that your sister is a slave," Anakin said. "Do you know Shmi, my mother? She's a slave, too. Or she was, when I saw her last." [Jude Watson. Dangerous Games]

Unfortunately, over the years Anakin became more private about his feelings.  You can see the difference between his interactions with stranges and with Jedi. He was much more open about his past with people he didn’t know. And that’s not an accident. It was a change even Obi-wan noticed.

When they’d met, Anakin had been a warm-hearted nine-year-old boy with an open nature. He was twelve and a half now, and the years had changed him. He had grown to be a boy who hid his heart. [Jedi Apprentice Special Edition: Deceptions by Jude Watson]

Obi-Wan crouched by him. “This isn’t work, Anakin. It’s a hobby. And if you are using it to keep distance between you and your fellow students, it’s not a helpful one.” [...] “They don’t want me,” Anakin said flatly. He walked over and slung the legs of the protocol droid under one arm. “I’m not like them.”  Obi-Wan couldn’t argue. Anakin was unique. There was no question about that. He was an exceptional student, much more in tune with the Force than others his age. He had come late to the Temple. It wasn’t that the other students disliked him, they just didn’t know what to make of him. [Jedi Apprentice Special Edition: Deceptions by Jude Watson]

When did it happen? Obi-Wan wondered again. Why did it happen? Was it the loss of his mother, followed so closely by the death of Qui-Gon? Obi-Wan could not replace those people in Anakin’s heart, nor did he wish to. He had hoped that with Jedi training and their own relationship, Anakin would come to find peace. He had not. [Jedi Apprentice Special Edition: Deceptions by Jude Watson]

Anakin’s inability to talk about his past was something Obi-wan recognized as ‘damage’.

[...] Obi-Wan stifled a sigh. Oh Anakin. This was about his childhood. Again. About the indelible fingerprints slavery had left on his soul and his psyche. Qui-Gon, did you never once stop to think of that? Did it never occur to you the damage might run too deep? “Anakin—” Anakin flicked him a frustrated look. “I know you think you understand. I know you want to understand. But if you haven’t lived it, Obi-Wan, you can’t. And you never will.” They really shouldn’t be talking. Even keeping their voices low almost to whispering, it was dangerous. But if he shut down the conversation now, if he refused to hear what Anakin had to say, he’d pile damage upon damage. [Karen Miller. Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth]

Anakin was hurt by his past and his inability and unwillingness to openly discuss it was harming him. And, as we can see above, that didn’t happen naturally. It was the result of years of jedi training (and bullying). 

“Thank you, sir,” Anakin said in a quiet voice. Palpatine interlinked the fingers of his hands. “I’m told that you grew up on Tatooine. I visited there, many years ago.” Anakin’s eyes narrowed for the briefest moment. “I did, sir, but I’m not supposed to talk about that.” Palpatine watched him glance up at Obi-Wan. “And why is that?” “My mother—” “Anakin,” Obi-Wan snapped in reprimand. [James Luceno. Darth Plagueis]

But Anakin is not aware of that. As a character he can’t be that self-aware. So he rationalizes it as a behavior he chose. It’s much easier for him to admit he can’t talk about something because it might hurt than it’s to admit the tragedy of his life. After 10 years of burying the trauma from slavery from the Jedi in his life, it’s only nature he’d hide it from Ahsoka too.

[atinykidult]

A War Against Your Personal Space — Jung Wooyoung

[prompt request] [1900 words] — spy!au, enemies to lovers, “Hold your fire!”/”Suck on that!”/”Shut up for a second, will you?”/”I don’t even know why we’re doing this.”

[content notes] [fluff] — There’s firearms, cussing, respectively dramatic/knowing Seongsang, endearingly annoying Wooyoung, competition, red cheeks, a lowkey cliche but satisfying(?) premise, etc., etc.

[a/n] — I’m so sorry if the lack of action is disappointing! I’m not great at it, so I focused on the recon/practice/snarky/non-fabulous aspects of the Spy!au. But there’s still plenty of aggression haha Thank you for reading! <3

.

Jung Wooyoung is a piece of shit.

That’s the only thing you can think as you continuously fire at the moving targets.

Bang, bang, bang!

Next to you, he’s doing the same.

(That is, firing at the targets. The shithead probably doesn’t even have thoughts in his head, and, therefore cannot be thinking.)

You’re doing well until you miss one target on your non-dominant side.

You aim more carefully and—

Bang!

Next to you, Wooyoung’s looking at you with an infuriatingly cocky smirk.

“You took my target!” you growl at him, angrily tearing off your ear protection.

He gives you a look. “And you missed!”

You let out a screech of anger, and without thinking do the one thing every firearm safety instructor says not to do:

You point your gun at your teammate.

His eyes are still sparkling with competition and mischief as he raises his hands. “Hold your fire,” he says almost lazily. (Your eyes keep getting drawn back to the damn smirk on his lips.)

Annoyance courses through you like a migraine.

Your hand’s itching to cock and fire.

Sadly, you would be in loads of trouble and job searching if you did.

So you drop the gun and walk away. Let him clean up.

You’re almost out the room when you hear him.

“I knew you wouldn’t! You love me way too much for that!”

“Asshole!”

Then you’re out of earshot, and Yeosang’s dry voice echoes over the intercom.

“You know, I wouldn’t have blamed them if they’d done it.”

“Hey!”

“It was their shot. And we both know they could have gotten it. You just wanted to show off.”

Your pride’s still smarting two days after the firing range incident because it was true you had missed.

But, still.

As you walk into work a few days later, everyone’s gathered around the whiteboard.

“Y/N! Congrats!”

With that, you know you’re employee of the month.

Yeosang’s smile is a little knowing as you join him in the center of the crowd.

There’s your name on the board, with the most votes collected.

“Your last case was really, really good!” someone comments.

Giving your thanks over your shoulder, you’re looking over who voted for you when you reach it.

The reason why Yeosang has that shit-eating grin on his face.

“It really was a pristine field mission,” a sugar sweet voice whispers in your ear. “So exquisitely done.”

You force your face to be emotionless. “Morning, asshole.” 

“Morning, sore loser.”

(That’s been your nickname for the last two days.)

“But, very clearly, I’m the winner.” You nod to the board. “For the whole month. So suck on that!”

“Oh, yes. You’re welcome, by the way.”

Yeosang’s judgmental gaze reminds you that Wooyoung is still standing too close to you, that his warm breath is still fanning over your ear. That your cheeks are burning with anger.

Was he in a war against your personal space or something?

You storm out of the circle, trying to keep your blood pressure to a reasonable level.

.

When you’re sorting through files with Yeosang later that day, you’re ranting about Wooyoung.

Eventually, he must get fed up with it.

“I know something you don’t,” he singsongs, casually dropping a folder on your side of the desk.

His expression, for what feels like the millionth time this week, is annoyingly knowing. Like he’s watching a friend push the door that says pull.

Because he’s just that kind of person, you grouch to yourself.

“...And what would that be?”

He glances at the folder he just tossed down.

Snatching it up, you find a single page of infuriating news.

“I am not working with that infantile, ridiculous, shit-for-brains—”

“I see you got the memo, too.”

And, within eight seconds, three things happen:

Wooyoung and his damn smirk materialize next to your desk.

Yeosang and his faux sweet grin leave the space next to you.

And you lose your highly annoying but perfectly lovely filing-help to the utterly disappointing replacement of Jung Wooyoung.

The disappointing replacement leans back and throws an arm around you. “I’m looking forward to working with you, partner.”

You groan and shrug his arm off.

.

“Of course you both have to do it! We picked our two prettiest agents! For this level of case, you really should blend in after all.”

“Seonghwa, sir,” you seethe, “literally any other person in this whole building is prettier than Wooyoung.”

“Do you really believe that?”

Both men level a searching gaze at you. Seonghwa’s is more analytical, and you avoid it. But that means you end up staring at Wooyoung’s for a moment too long.

You both look away at the same time.

“Anyways.” You swallow. “You’re absolutely sure?”

“Y/N.” Seonghwa’s using his director’s voice; now you’re in for it. “You’re staking out the bars where all the pretty movie stars spend their evenings and get drunk, and find nice, also pretty companions for the night, and…”

You don’t know why you glance at Wooyoung when Seonghwa’s saying that. But you do.

You’re surprised to see him already looking at you.

“...So, yes, I’m sure you have to do it. And yes, I truly mean both of you.”

Realizing your cheeks are burning (a common theme recently), you stand abruptly. “Fine.”

Wooyoung has a triumphant grin on his face and copies you. “Fine!”

Seonghwa waits until you’ve both left his office when he texts Yeosang:

I did it T-T I convinced them they’re both prettier than me

u mean u took the first step at getting them past their rivalry?

At the cost of my self-esteem T-T

.

You spend the first four days doing research, where you try (and fail) to keep things peaceful by ignoring him.

Just email the link, even though he’s sitting next to you.

Just scribble down your thought on a sticky note.

Just ignore him when he bothers you.

Just! Ignore him! Especially when he bothers you.

“I’m telling you!” you finally shout. “If you actually read your contract you would have realized that your fucking lunch break—”

“Okay, okay!” he surrenders, grinning like he’s the one who won.

A few people look over at you, and as you realize this, you also realize how Wooyoung had propped against your side of the table in his ever-constant war against your personal space.

“Sit up and act like you’re a half-functional adult,” you snap.

“I’m not the one who shouted. But yes, ma’am.”

You bite your lip at the way her purrs the last words.

Don’t kill him, don’t kill him, don’t pull out the knife… you remind yourself.

So, it’s sad but true that some days you feel like you fail more than you succeed.

But you can’t be too angry when you realize at the end of day four:

“I can’t believe it. We have a whole case proposal — names, proofs, dates, everything,” you murmur, proudly scrolling down the document.

“All we’ll have to do is actually plan the operation and pick out our outfits,” Wooyoung agrees.

“Which is basically nothing since we have all of next week!”

“This is true.”

The euphoria a doing good work washes over you, and you can’t help but beam at him. “It should have taken way longer.”

"I know! We’re—” He snaps his mouth shut, shaking his head as though his words were unimportant.

To be honest, you feel fond of him as he just smiles softly. (He actually has a really nice smile, you notice.)

Then the moment passes, and you turn back to the computer.

(But he keeps looking at you.)

.

Wooyoung’s sitting down for lunch with Yeosang when the latter blurts: “You had stars in your eyes earlier. With Y/N.”

“You think I don’t know it?” he groans.

Yeosang pulls out his phone a few minutes later:

fuck i almost let it slip that we were watching them earlier but i dont think wy noticed bc hes oblivious as a rock

.

Only one hour after that, Wooyoung and you receive the worst possible news.

Which leads to you finding yourselves in an empty office at 11 that night.

“Fuuuu-uh-uuuuck,” groans Wooyoung.

You tiredly rub your eyes and kill all your tabs.

“My brain... is just… fuuuuck.”

Inclined to agree, you open a new window with slow, depressed typing.

“I can’t believe Seonghwa thought we could go in tomorrow. Tomorrow, Y/N! Why tomorrow?”

The screen doesn’t change for a good ten seconds. What were you even thinking again?

“I haven’t pulled a night this late ever! Besides field jobs obviously. But for those you’re doing something, and here we’re doing basically nothing, and I wish we were doing something—”

You draw circles on the screen with your mouse. What even were you thinking... it was a thought… it existed...

“And this is a form of abuse! I swear! If Yeosang somehow got Seonghwa to do this to us just because ‘you had stars in your eyes,’ I’m going to fucking—”

“Shut up for a second, will you?” you moan.

“...Make me.” His voice is sounds different from tiredness.

“Never heard that one before.”

“Please make me?”

There’s something in his tone that catches your attention.

When you give him an incredulous look, you find him looking at your lips. And you’re so exhausted you literally can’t process. (As you head home about fifteen minutes later, you start to process. And you realize you hadn’t hated it at all.)

“Let’s go home,” you suggest quietly. “I don’t even know why we’re doing this.”

(As you step inside your house, the rational side of you wonders what would have happened if you had stayed.)

At some point, he moves very close to you.

(He finally won his war against your personal space, you realize as you brush your teeth.)

Very close.

(Capping your lip balm container, you press your lips together and recall how his felt, pressed against yours. So softly, at least for your perception of Wooyoung. So skillfully, which does match your perception of him.)

His face is still close, but now he’s looking into your eyes.

(He has very pretty eyes; you picture them as you slip under your blankets.)

“Let’s go home,” you repeat breathlessly, “and deal with this all tomorrow.”

His hands, callused and controlled thanks to your profession, rest gently on your neck.

“Do you think all of this… All of this will work out?”

His voice is like starlight, wavering and hopeful and the sole brightness in the dark office.

“I think there’s a very good chance that this all will work out.”

(As your head hits the pillow, you look forward to the next day. Sure, Seonghwa’s going to throw a fit because you’re not ready for a case tomorrow. But you’re really looking forward to working everything out. Everything.)

.

[general ateez taglist] — @s1ardusk​ @seongghwaa​ (thank you so much for your sweet support/friendship! <3)

[kate2kat]

First lines

Thanks @my-citrus-pocket for the tag!

List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have fewer than 20, just list them all). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

Ok, here goes:

1. Tail-lights streak the tarmac like blood washing down a drain if you close your eyes just enough in the backseat of a car speeding across the city after midnight.

Nocturnal Creatures, Inception, Arthur/Eames

2. The last box has been carried in, the last of Crowley’s plants set down in the conservatory, the furniture is still every which way.

Here is our paradise, Good Omens, Aziraphale/Crowley

3. When Eames asked, one night in bed, as if it was the most natural next step (and it was), Arthur just said, “Yes.” 

Red, Inception, Arthur/Eames

4. “Don’t you miss your shop?”

Now we both together, Good Omens,  Aziraphale/Crowley

5. It was yet another boring corporate job.

A new life,  Inception, Arthur/Eames

6. Soho is so much brighter and louder and flashier since the war.

Holy water, Good Omens, Aziraphale/Crowley

7. Bob wakes for no reason, the room is still dark, but the sound of rain ticking quietly against the window takes him back to the first time he stayed here with Dave, how he could hear it, only just hear it, over the sound of his own frightened heart and his own panicked breaths.

Rainy day, Rocknrolla, Bob/Dave (OC)

8. They are standing off by themselves in the porch of the village hall when midnight strikes.

Together,  Good Omens, Aziraphale/Crowley

9. The first New Year, afterwards, Aziraphale promises himself he will always be open to new experiences, to change, to doing things he didn’t know he could, or would want to, with Crowley. 

Promises, Good Omens, Aziraphale/Crowley

10. “Oh dear!” Aziraphale is dusting the bookshelves in the sitting room. 

 Pretty, Good Omens, Aziraphale/Crowley

11. In the days after Christmas, when nothing happens, the dead days before New Year, adults are grumpy, which is hard to understand when they were laughing so hard at Christmas dinner. 

Little devil, Good Omens, Aziraphale/Crowley, and Warlock Dowling (POV)

12. It’s a small thing, but it’s their thing. 

Moments, Good Omens, Aziraphale/Crowley

13. “Cider,” says Crowley, shuddering visibly. 

Ghastly, Good Omens, Aziraphale/Crowley

14. Aziraphale finds the card Crowley made him when he goes upstairs to fetch his thick cardigan. 

You show me, Good Omens, Aziraphale/Crowley

15. They start arriving at the beginning of December: cards from their new friends in the village, decorated with robins, holly, Santas, stars, the manger in Bethlehem, some kitsch, some not. Inside, “Season’s Greetings!”, “Merry Christmas!”, “Wishing you joy this Christmas” and the like, signed by the senders, sometimes with a more personal line or two. 

Truest star, Good Omens, Aziraphale/Crowley

Good Omens, Aziraphale/Crowley

16. Maybe it is that story people seem to love so much at this time of year, but Aziraphale is haunted by things he failed to do, people he could not help, those for whom his attempts at blessing came too late, or were too slight to penetrate the bubble of misery that surrounded them.

Just kindness, Good Omens, Aziraphale/Crowley

17.  It’s a lot colder out here on the Downs than it is in London.

Something hot, Good Omens, Aziraphale/Crowley

18.  Aziraphale likes Christmas in the world — the lights, the decorations, the music, the way people at least try to be happy.

Risks, Good Omens, Aziraphale/Crowley

19.  “Reindeer? They’re alright, I suppose.

Unicorns, Good Omens, Aziraphale/Crowley

20. Crowley is a questioner, and here are some of his Christmas questions: Every day, Good Omens, Aziraphale/Crowley

Trends? I seem to like quite short opening sentences, except when they are very long.

Favourite? I really like the first line of Red, because it lets you know straight away that these two are deeply comfortable with each other, and I like writing established relationships a lot.

I also like the opening of Rainy day, because it calls back to the very beginning of a relationship that had a difficult start, but that is now settled and comfortable, which the rest of the story demonstrates.

Tags: @deinvatiwrites , @fiamac , @oceaxe-ifdawn , @letteredlettered , @laurashapiro-noreally, @corinnetags

[captcas]

Worth Fighting For

WORTH FIGHTING FOR by capthamm

Killian “Hook” Jones is a dominate up and comer in the UFC while Emma “The Savior” Swan’s career was cut short. When Hook’s manager moves up and the office brings in UFC’s youngest legend to keep him in check, will either of them be able to handle it?

read on ao3 // tumblr: ch 1/ ch 2

[CHAPTER 3/?]

Saturday night brings their monthly movie/game night and Emma has never been more grateful for a distraction. Ruby and the Nolans will come over around 6 o’clock and Henry is practically bouncing off the walls with excitement. Tonight’s theme is Star Wars and this will be Henry’s official introduction to the series; at David’s insistence they’re starting with A New Hope and going release order from there. They’re also going to play Star Wars trivia which Henry will undoubtedly suck at.

Should be a fun night all around.

And it was, until Henry went to bed and the “adults” got to talking.

Ruby cracks another beer and turns to Emma, “So, Emma, you’ve got probably the coolest new job in the world and you haven’t said jack shit.”

She shoots Ruby an icy glare as David and MM stop bickering over whether or not Kylo Ren deserved a redemption arc to hear what Emma has to say.

Emma sighs, “It’s going alright. All the onboarding is underway and between the perks, benefits, and pay, Henry should be set for life.” She’s been fortunate to live off her winnings for the past nine years, being mindful of money and not giving into the lifestyle of frivolous spending many fighters take on, but -even her friends know- she doesn’t have a money tree.

The looks on their faces when she mentions Henry being set for life could melt 1000 Olafs. When she arrived at Ruth Nolan’s home at the age of 16, she never expected to find a family. Hardened by a life too lived for anyone her age, Emma assumed they’d be like every other foster home and use her for the money. To this day, she’s never been so happy to be wrong.

Emma’s not sure what twist of fate landed an orphan with such a great support system, but she’ll be forever grateful. David took to the “protective brother” role immediately. Soon after Emma moved in, he met Mary Margaret (fireworks and butterflies and all that mumbo jumbo) who introduced them to Ruby. They’re small, and maybe a bit scrappy, but they’re family.

She breaks out of her thoughts and returns to the present, “I will need some babysitting though; I’m required to attend each of my client’s Fight Nights. But overall it’s great, really!”

She hopes she squeaked away without having to mention Jones at all but the glint in Ruby’s eye tells her otherwise. “Ok that’s all fine and dandy,” Mary Margaret shoots Ruby an incredulous look, warning her to tread carefully, but Ruby ignores her and continues, “but who’s the client?”

David is giving her a protective father vibe, Ms is practically vibrating, and she's pretty sure Ruby is salivating. Emma sighs realizing she shouldn’t postpone the inevitable, “Killian Jones.”

Ruby practically drops her drink and Mary Margaret squeals, David rolls his eyes and turns back to the TV where SportsCenter has been playing in the background. Mary Margaret beats Ruby to the punch, “THE Killian Jones?! As in Killian “Hook” Jones?!”

Emma nods, standing up to refill the only slightly empty chip bowl in front of her. She knew this was going to happen and she wasn’t exactly looking forward to her friends thirsting over her client– client… right.

Ruby speaks next, “Well that is probably the best case scenario. Do you think he can get us tickets? Have you met him? Is he as gorgeous in person as he is on TV? Can we meet him?”

Emma, now glad she’s in the kitchen with space to breathe, is starting to feel a bit overwhelmed. She knows Ms can sense it and is unsurprised when she speaks next,“For Christ’s sake Ruby let her breathe. She’s probably only had her initial meeting with him.”

Ruby seems to get the hint and it doesn’t take long before Ms is in the kitchen helping Emma pick up the leftover pizza, “We’re happy for you, Emma. He’s a huge client for them, they obviously trust you to do a good job.” Emma nods in thanks and they both head back into the living room. Her sister-in-law’s warmth always calms her (and Ruby) down which allows David to jump in and change the subject to the coverage of some football player’s arrest on SportsCenter. Emma finally catches a breath and realizes just how lucky she is for the friend dynamic they have before settling in to debate if this James Spencer kid should still be eligible for the draft.

As she lays in bed that night, Ms’ words ring through her head. Despite the rollercoaster of emotions she’s been feeling, Killian is a huge client, one that was formerly represented by a namesake for the company. This re energizes her a bit and helps her fall asleep, actually excited for what's to come.

She wakes up Sunday morning and makes Henry some pancakes and declares it a lazy Sunday. Henry happily obliged, cuddling up on the couch with The Deathly Hallows while Emma threw on some shitty reality TV.

. . .

When her alarm rings Monday morning, Emma pulls her pillow over her head like some teenager from one of those Disney Channel movies.

It takes her a second to remember what day it is and why she’s up at this godforsaken hour.

Killian Jones. Right.

She audibly groans before rolling out of bed and getting ready for the day. Between her shower and breakfast she gets Henry up. School starts at 8 so he’s technically running a bit behind but he’ll make it on the bus in time… hopefully.

She’s pouring him a bowl of cereal when he comes out of his room zipping up his sweater and rubbing his eyes.

“Hey, kid. Coco Puffs or Fruit Loops?” He mumbles some semblance of what she thinks is Fruit Loops so she pours the bowl and slides it across the kitchen island. He smiles in thanks as she pours her own bowl and sits beside him.

“So today’s the big day?”

She didn’t tell Henry about her new client and when she spoke to the Nolan’s and Ruby, he was definitely supposed to be sleeping. “How could you possibly know that?”

“You’re not as quiet as you think you are and I’m not as tired as you think I am.” He yawns as if to punctuate his point.

“Uh huh, sure, kid.” He gives her a knowing glance and she realizes she’s not getting out of this. She runs her hands over her face and sighs, “Yes, today is the first meeting and I’m only slightly nervous to fu— screw this whole thing up.”

Henry chuckles at her attempted censorship (she never said she was a perfect parent), “You’ll be great, Mom, and Hook seems like a decent enough guy. I’m sure he won’t give you too much trouble.”

She stares at Henry a bit dumbfounded. It shocks her everyday how old he’s getting– nine going on nineteen for sure.  “Are you hiding some Weasley’s Extendable Ears in your room or something? Are you a wizard? Should you be at Hogwarts?” Emma is very obviously trying to derail this conversation but it works, setting Henry off about how he’s finally on the sixth book and explaining the concept of a horcrux.

Oh, her sweet summer child.

God, maybe he is old enough for UFC.

When did that happen?

She ushers Henry to the bus, promising him they’ll watch the sixth movie tonight if he finishes the book today and is to school on time. It’s only September and he can’t be late three times in the first month of school. She kisses his forehead and he wishes her good luck.

Sometimes she wonders how such a screw up ended up with the perfect kid.

After cleaning up the kitchen, Emma finishes getting ready. She jumps on the subway and finds herself at the office with a half hour to spare. She’s never early so she chalks it up to nerves and uses the time to prep for this meeting.

Over the weekend she received multiple emails from Gold’s team surrounding a possible spot for Killian on the card for the pay-per-view Fight Night in November.

A pay-per-view card. She did enough research about Killian this weekend to know that would be his first.

Emma feels like she’s been thrown into the deep end before being taught how to swim.

Go big or go home.

She did a lot of research about Killian and learned practically nothing. She knows he came here from London almost ten years ago and that his team includes his head trainer Robin (husband of now former manager Regina Mills), and three other men named Will Scarlett, August Booth, and William Smee (he’s really selling it with that whole Hook theme). Other than that all she found was his record and highlights. He’s 6-0 which is insane for only being in the circuit for a year and a half– fighters are usually limited to three, maybe four fights a year.

4 of his 6 are knockouts.

He’s good… really good.

Her thoughts are interrupted by a light tapping on the edge of her cubicle. She glances up to find none other than the man himself. She can’t help but double take.

Real professional, Emma.

She's only ever seen him in the ring, at the gym, or dressed up for a business meeting. She’s not sure what she expected, but a leather jacket and pants that fit him like his own skin definitely weren’t it.

He looks good… really good.

Emma snaps herself out of it, “Hi, Mr. Jones, just give me a moment and we can head to the conference room.”

“It’s Killian, love, please.” She notices he winces at the seemingly habitual pet name. Emma ignores the ring of disappointment that runs through her gut at the realization that it may not be reserved for her. “A conference room’s a bit formal, don’t you think? Let’s get out of here, Swan.”

He grabs her hand before she can answer. “Mr.— Killian. Is this allowed?”

He chuckles. “We can plan the meetings at our leisure,” he says the last bit in an almost scary imitation of Regina, “but even still, Regina and I never met in office. A bit silly for two people to take up an entire conference room, yeah? Come on, lass, try something new. It’s called trust.”

Emma rolls her eyes but follows along anyway. The elevator ride should’ve been awkward but Killian kept the conversation flowing by asking her preferred drink. “Coffee, tea, or smoothies?”

Despite the risk of sounding like a child, Emma finds herself being honest with him, “Uhh, I actually prefer hot chocolate… with cinnamon.”

He smiles brightly at her, as though her drink order was the most brilliant discovery this century, “Perfect, Swan. I know just the place.”

She was so swept up in his ambush, she doesn’t realize that this isn’t the cocky, asshat Killian Jones she sees on tv or at the gym until he’s practically dragging her across the street to a small cafe. This Killian seems genuine and carries this almost childlike excitement.

Emma tells herself she has no interest in learning more about this Killian.

(Emma doesn’t have to tell herself that that is complete bullshit.)

. . .

He can’t stop himself from beaming when she offers up her drink order without hesitation. Killian feels like a bloody teenager around her. He promised himself he wouldn’t feel this way again, but something about Emma Swan has completely entranced him.

He finds himself fascinated with every part of her, including the small things, like the fact she takes cinnamon on her hot chocolate.

Once they get to the cafe across the street, Killian forces himself to dial it back. He can tell she’s guarded and as much as he’d like to be friends (more than friends) with the lass, he knows business has to come first.

It wouldn’t exactly be a good look for him if he ran “The Savior” out of the office on her second day.

Somehow he thinks he doesn’t have that power.

He’d like to. (Obviously not to run her out of the office, but he’d like his existence to mean that much to her.)

Bloody hell, he's being ridiculous.

They sit down across from each other at a small table by the window. He expects to start the conversation but before he can form a coherent thought she’s speaking.

“So, Killian. I’ve already received some correspondence from Gold’s team. I’m not sure how much time you usually take between fights and I know it’s already the end of September but…”

She’s rambling and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen anybody so adorable when they’re nervous.

Adorable is not a professional descriptor.

Killian Jones doesn’t want “professional” with Emma Swan.

Fuck.

“...Gold is hoping to get you on the main card for November 14th.”

Did she just say main card?

He chokes on his coffee.

“Main card, Swan? I’ve never been on the main card. Strictly early prelims…”

She eyes him suspiciously, “Usually that’s a good thing. Upward momentum and all that. His team is clearly impressed by your dominant record.”

“Is his team the only one impressed?” The flirt escapes him before he can stop it.  

Bloody idiot.

She doesn’t even bat an eye, “The entire league seems to be impressed, Jones.” Her tone tells him she knows what just happened but she shut it down immediately.

He likes a challenge.

Emma Swan may be his favorite challenge yet.

Emma Swan is off limits, but Killian will be damned if he cares.

. . .

Emma is surprised when Killian pays for their drinks despite her insistence that she can charge it to Mills Management. She’s also surprised by how nice he is.

She keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop.

She’s still waiting.

He’s definitely flirtatious, every other sentence being easily twisted into some sort of innuendo, but she can tell it’s a front. The little things he does like tipping the barista an extra fifty cents or holding the door for her, let on to the man behind the persona.

Well, and the fact he practically chokes when she tells him they want him for the main card.

He seems genuinely shocked that anyone would be impressed by him. His mask comes out almost immediately, another innuendo laced into his question. She doesn’t let him go there, shutting it down as quickly as it started. For this to work, she needs him the real him. Not the cocky MMA fighter who he used to catch the eye of UFC execs. She compliments him, and it’s beyond genuine. That seems to calm his nerves a bit as they move into social media management and he shifts into a professionalism she’s not entirely prepared for.

She’s not sure she wants professional Killian Jones.

Whoa, Emma, pump the breaks.

She shakes it off as she watches him take notes on what she’s saying about the importance of a lead up on Twitter and how it can set the tone for the entire fight. His tongue runs along the inside of his lower lip as he concentrates and she can’t help the overwhelming wave of attraction that hits her.

Like lightning.

It’s not just the tongue, (but that’s not helping) it’s his dedication to this sport and how he actually gives a fuck about what she’s saying. Killian never displayed even a hint of the deeply rooted misogyny that runs rampant throughout the industry. He actually seems almost humbled by her presence. The words escape her mouth before she can’t stop them, “Why are you actually taking anything I say seriously?”

Very professional, Emma. Way to instill confidence in your client. Smooth.

His head snaps up at her abrupt question and he looks confused. “I know you don’t like being called a legend, Swan, but you were a damn good fighter. If I walk out of this partnership with half the following and success you had, I’d call that a win.”

She’s stunned by his sincerity.

Brick. Wall. (She thinks she hears Pink Floyd somewhere in the distance.)

“And I suppose you think you know all about me from our, what, three conversations now?” She knows it’s snippy, that’s the point.

He stops typing and puts his phone down. “Pardon me, love, but you’re a bit of an open book.”

Emma scoffs, “Anyone with the internet knows I prefer people don’t call me a legend.”

“Aye, but do they know it’s because you feel too young with a career too short to have made an impact? That you feel choosing yourself, a life, over MMA removes all glory from your name?”

Emma is entirely shaken by his apparent ability to read her like a fucking picture book. (Does that even make sense? Do you read picture books?) Emma never had a formal retirement ceremony; gloves in the middle of the ring and all that. She had asked Gold to be taken off the roster and for a quiet exit and that’s what he’d given her. The public doesn’t know the real reason she left MMA, her attempt at keeping Henry’s life as normal as possible, but somehow Killian–

Brick. Brick. Brick.

“Let’s talk about Instagram.” She sees the disappointment sweep across his face, realizing she can read him pretty well too. That’s terrifying.

Way more terrifying than social media plans.

They keep it strictly business for the rest of the meeting. She’s startled when her stomach rumbles and she checks the time.

12:00. They’ve been strategizing for three hours.

She’s not sure where the time went, and when Killian asks her if she wants to grab a bite to eat together, she’s startled again by her initial gut reaction to say yes.

Obviously, she says no and makes up some lie about needing to get back to the office. He knows it’s a lie, she can see it all over his face. He doesn’t push her though, and she’s grateful. They set their next meeting and Emma’s heart speeds up, seemingly unaware that this is a business meeting and not a date. She shakes his hand and promises to have a full plan ready for Thursday before practically sprinting out of the cafe.

In three conversations Killian Jones has gone from asshat to… who knows. One thing Emma does know is that Killian Jones is off limits to the highest of ethical degrees. But what scares her most, is that she’s not entirely sure she cares.

. . .

As soon as he asks her to lunch he knows he’s pushed too far.

Actually, he perhaps pushed too far by letting on just how easy it was for him to read her, but lunch, well that was just asking for a brick wall. He runs his hands across his face, completely taken with someone he has no right to. She’s witty, smart, and could probably kick his ass— scratch that, could definitely kick his ass— but she also has demons, he can see them swimming behind her eyes. Demons that seem scarily similar to his, maybe not on the surface but definitely in their damage. Emma is raw and unapologetic; a real human being who is, for all intents and purposes, unimpressed by the suave persona of Killian “Hook” Jones.

She’s bloody perfect.

He’s fucking fucked.

Eloquent.

Killian decides to grab a quick lunch from the cafe and head to the gym. He has a lot of pent up frustration and really feels the need to punch something. Thank god that’s his job. He scarfs down his sandwich, not realizing how hungry he was and jumps on the subway to the training center. He miraculously finds a seat and is able to scroll through his phone a bit. As he pokes around Twitter he finds an article announcing Emma “The Savior” Swan’s comeback to the UFC. He clicks on it, curiosity getting the better of him despite probably knowing the gist of the article.

He didn’t expect a timeline of her very impressive career:

2008: Swan joins the UFC with her Boston gym. Her debut match against Aurora Rose ended in a TKO. She’s back in action six months later fighting Ella Tremaine. She wins again, this time after three rounds by split decision.

2009: A dominant start to the year for The Savior with a first round submission against Tiana Dampier in January. She rounded out her year with another first round submission against El Oldenburg in May, and a third round knockout against Esmerelda Gringoire in October.

2010: Swan goes three rounds with Merida Baer and wins by unanimous decision. Swan wins again after three rounds by split decision against Megara Alcmene. The Savior’s final match is a KO against Mulan Fa rounding out her record to 8-0. Her next match, meant to be for the women’s title, was declined with no comment from The Savior.

2020: Swan joins Mills Management as a talent manager assigned to Killian “Hook” Jones.

Killian knew Swan was good, an early legend in her own right, but he had no idea she was this dominant. He also had no idea she left without so much as a wave goodbye. He figured he’d just missed the announcement seeing as it came well before his introduction into the sport. Against his typical moral code, he tries to google why she left but finds nothing. She knocks out Mulan Fa and then just stops being added to cards and fades away as new fighters take her place.

He knows there’s a reason for her secrecy and he’d be lying if he said curiosity was the only driving force behind his attempt to learn more. He finds himself wanting to know everything there is to know about Emma Swan; a deeper part of him aches for her to be the one who tells him.

He’s positive he can only dream of gaining that level of trust from her, but he has to try. Liam's words ring heavy in his ears, "A man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets."

He gets off at the stop closest to the training center and walks through the front doors, waving to Belle at the front desk before heading into the locker room. He’s fortunate to be on the UFC roster, allowing him to keep his training gear at the center and not have to worry about lugging it around with him. It also gives him the freedom to come here whenever he needs to let off some steam. He changes quickly and finds a treadmill to warm up. He jogs a mile and a half before picking up the pace. Killian’s in the midst of his runner’s high when someone steps into the machine next to him. He turns his head to offer them a small smile in hello, it’s not that big of a gym, exclusive to the UFC industry and a few friends of friends, so chances are he knows the person at least in passing.

Oh, Killian knows them alright, and he practically falls off the treadmill when he sees her green eyes blown wide.

[moonstruckholland]

Happy Birthday? (p.p)

(the gif has nothing to do with the fic, I was just too lazy to make a moodboard 😂)

Word count: 2,284

Warnings: tiny bit of angst, hella fluff

A/N: This is my submission for @farfromhaz and @angelhaz11's writing challenge! Go send them some love! Anyways, here's writing number two of the night! I really hope you guys like it! Definitely feel free to send any and all feedback, it would make my spooky day even happier 🧡 (I'm technically late but it's still Halloween somewhere so shhhh it's okay)

Sharing your birthday with your favorite holiday, even if it was Halloween, wasn't always as fun as everyone would assume.

Believe it or not, people actually forgot your birthday. You couldn't fully blamed them, Halloween was amazing. What could compare to the candies, scary movies, and fun costumes? Definitely not your measly little birthday parties, especially as you grew older and everyone was trading in trick or treating for Halloween parties that went on for hours into the night.

But you couldn't lie and say it didn't hurt your feelings growing up when you walked into your classroom expecting just one "Happy birthday" and instead getting, "Happy Halloween!" followed by a "Oh, it's your birthday isn't it?"

It hurt your little child heart so much, you decided at the age of 9 to stop telling people your birthday and pretended it already passed whenever someone asked. It was dumb looking back on it now that you were an adult, but back then it seemed like the only reasonable solution.

The only person at school who knew your birthday was your best friend and crush of many years, Peter Parker. You didn't tell him purposely, he stumbled into your apartment window one night in high school, bleeding and in a daze, and you were getting ready for a birthday dinner.

"You look really nice, can I ask where you're going?" He voice was raspy as you cleaned the cuts on his face.

"You don't get to ask questions when you've been hiding the fact that you're freaking Spider-Man."

He decided to keep quiet for a while, not wanting to push you. You waited until he looked less like death to say something.

"It's my birthday," you mumbled, not meeting his eyes.

"It's your birthday? And you didn't tell me? I'm your best friend!"

"Don't start with me Spider-Boy," you glared at him for moment before softly adding, "I haven't told anyone in years."

"Why?"

"Everyone would forget, so I figured no one can forget if they don't know, saves me from being stressed."

"Well, now that I know, I'm never going to forget."

You rolled your eyes, "Don't make promises you can't keep, Parker."

He kept his promise, making a big deal of your birthday every year. One year he snuck you out of your apartment at night and swung you around the city, showing you places you hadn't known existed.

Another year, he brought you to a halloween party at the Stark tower. You never thought you'd see Captain America wish you a happy birthday personally, but it was one of the greatest experiences of your life.

It honestly didn't matter what he did, the fact that he cared and bothered to remember is what made it truly special. You were sure as long as Peter was in your life, you'd always have a special birthday.

Well, maybe not this year. So far today was the worst birthday of your life.

You woke up very late, apparently forgetting to set your alarm the night before. You rushed to throw on clothes and get as decently presentable as you could rushing to make it to your midterm.

“If you’re late, don’t bother showing up,” you could hear your professor’s shrill voice as you practically sprinted to your car.

You drove to class like you were in one of the fast and the furious movies, definitely breaking at least one law in the process. Luckily for you, the roads seemed to be empty, one gift from the universe. You knew if Peter weren’t already in class, he’d probably be with you right now, chastising you for your horrible driving,

‘I could really use Peter right now, swinging to school would be much faster.’

It was then that you realized Peter hadn't sent you his usual good morning happy birthday text he always sent, in fact you hadn't heard from him at all since you threw your into studying yesterday. You stomach clenched with worry for a second before you quickly pushed it aside, remembering you had to run to class.

You made it to your statistics class with minutes to spare, barely. You would’ve felt relieved, except the second you sat down to pull out your materials, you came to the realization you left the cheat sheet your professor allowed you to bring in your folder, laying on the exact spot you put it before passing out last night.

‘Fuck,’ you wanted cry. That dumb piece of paper was your key to passing this test and it was at home. You obviously had no choice but to take the test, so you told convinced yourself the studying you did last night would be enough, trying your best to think positively.

You didn't fail, but you definitely didn't get the grade you wanted. After more than an hour of answering questions, working them out on your scrap paper, you ended it with a 72. You beat yourself up about it the whole way home. The only thing you were looking forward to was seeing Peter and your lovely roommate Casey, and the delicious chocolate chip cookies she made just for you.

You couldn't help smiling as you heard Peter laughing from down the hall. You often came home to Peter already there, a perk that came with giving him a key, making food or literally hanging from the ceiling while studying.

"At least he always keeps me on my toes," you mumbled under your breath, wondering how you'd find him this time as you unlocked your door.

Much to your surprise, he was just sitting on the couch, Mean Girls playing in the background as he played what looked like some sort of star wars game on his phone.

“Hey, Pete!” you called out, closing the door behind you.

“Hey,” he barely looked at you, too into his game.

Taking a seat beside him, you sighed dramatically, laying your head on his shoulder while you waited for him to pay attention to you. That didn't happen for another 15 minutes and you wondered how he could be so into a game that he couldn't even play on one of the many game consoles Mr. Stark has bought him over the years.

"So," he said after finally putting his phone down, "What's the plan for today?"

"Oh, um, I thought maybe we'd swing through the city and go to our little spot?"

"I was thinking we'd do something different?"

"Like what?" You were suddenly filled with excitement, knowing Peter always came up with the best plans.

"You know that cute girl from down the hall? She invited me to one of the sorority parties and I thought we'd go together."

"You and the girl from down the hall?"

"No, silly," he nudged you gently, "You and me."

The excitement started to slowly fade away as you realized he was being serious, he wanted to go to a Halloween party, he probably wanted to meet up with the cute girl, he forgot your birthday.

"Um, sure! Sounds good." You gave him your best fake smile, trying not to cry on the spot.

He didn't seem to notice, going on about the exam he took a couple of hours ago. You nodded at the appropriate timing, making it seem like you were fully invested, and you wanted to me, but you were so hurt you could barely focus.

Eventually, Peter got up to leave and you hated to even think it, but you were relieved. Until you heard his goodbyes.

"I'll see you in a bit, okay?"

"Yeah," you said quickly, practically pushing him out the door.

"Oh, and tell Casey her cookies were delicious."

"What cookies?"

"Her famous chocolate chip ones."

You sighed, "Did you at least save me one?"

You knew his answer from the look on his face, the immediately blush coloring his cheeks and the way his eyes wouldn't meet yours.

"I'm sorry! I forgot! She can make more, right?"

'That isn't the only thing you forgot, Peter.'

Now you weren't sure if you wanted to cry or lunge at him, but Peter was out the door and down the hall before you could do either.

Closing the door behind you, you decided to settle for the former, tears spilling down your cheeks instantly. A part of you hoped Peter was just messing around and would knock on your door any second now, telling you it was all a joke and he would never forget your birthday.

But as more and more time passed, you knew he genuinely forgot.

You tried giving him the benefit of the doubt, tried giving him a chance to realize his mistake. Hours later, when he came to pick you up, it didn't seem like that was going to happen either.

He greeted you at the door like nothing, "Do you like my costume?"

Even upset with him, you couldn't help laughing as he twirled in his Spider-Man suit. "Again, Peter?"

"What? You can't go wrong dressing up like Spider-Man!"

You agreed with him, though you still hoped he was only joking about the party.

He wasn't, he swung the two of you a block away from the sorority house. You could practically smell the booze from there.

'He really brought me to a party.'

You tried making the best out of it, flirting with cute guys and girls, but it wasn't much fun considering most of them were so drunk, they could barely speak properly. And you knew regardless of how much you flirted, there was only one guy you were actually interested in.

So, after an hour and half of torture, you found yourself outside, playing games on your phone while you waited for Peter on the steps.

He came out not long after, sitting beside you, "Are you having fun?"

You barely looked at him, "No, not really."

"Y/n?" He put his arm around your shoulder, "What's wrong?"

"Everything? From the second I woke up this day has been so shitty, I left my notes and tanked my test, you ate the last cookie, which was mine, by the way," you took a moment to pull away and glare at him.

"Then you brought me here, and what hurts the most is my best friend forgot my birthday," you voiced cracked as you finished your sentence, betraying the cool composure you were trying to keep.

Peter opened his mouth to say something, but you honestly didn't want to hear an explaination, you just wanted to go home and leave this day behind you, "It's okay, just take me back to my place?"

He didn't object, looking around for any witnesses before throwing on his mask, picking you up and swinging away.

You didn't open your eyes on the way home, you instead pretended it was a normal night filled with fun and dumb you and Peter things.

'Like it should've been.'

When Peter finally set you down, you were not on the fire escape by your bedroom window. You were on the roof of your building, twinkle lights and candles everywhere. There were tables full of your favorite food, and one had the most beautiful birthday cake you had ever seen.

Peter pulled off his mask, "Did you really think I would forget?"

"I-" you were speechless, he was messing with you.

"It's not over yet," he smiled, "You can come out now."

Instantly, all of your friends and family popped out from underneath the tables, yelling out "Surprise!"

You were immediately flooded by your loved ones, everyone wishing you happy birthday and showering you with love. You were overwhelmed with happiness, tears of joy falling down your cheeks for the first time that night. You couldn't believe Peter did all of this for you, and managed to trick you.

You let yourself have actual fun. It was much easier considering everyone was coherent, plus you were once again blessed by the presence of the avengers. It was hard not to have fun when Thor and Tony were around.

Later on, you snuck away, finding Peter and pulling him to the side. You smacked his arm the second you were alone.

"You ass! I can't believe you did this!"

"I couldn't let this be a boring birthday!"

You rolled your eyes, "You couldn't at least tell me happy birthday?"

He looked away, rubbing the back of his neck, "I wanted to pull a sixteen candles moment."

"And what was that with the party?"

"You had to be distracted while Casey baked your cake."

You shook your head, "You really thought of everything, huh? It's perfect, Peter. Thank you."

"I, um, actually have one more thing for you."

"No gifts! This was already amazing."

"Well," he blushed, looking down at his feet, "It's more of a question."

"Okay..."

"Would you maybe want to go out on a date?" He asked so quickly, you almost didn't catch the question.

'Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit,' was all that ran through your head.

"Or not! That's okay too, it's just Mr. Stark told me you liked me and I should make a move because I've liked you for years," Peter rambled.

Your heart literally melted at his words. He's liked you for years? And you didn't know? How stupid could the two of you be?

"Peter," you took his hand in yours, "I would love to go on a date with you."

"You would?"

"Absolutely," this time you looked away shyly, "I've liked you for a while too."

He smiled brightly, letting out a little sigh of relief.

It was right then you knew nothing would be able to top this, it was truly the best birthday ever.

Tagging: @fangirlwithasweettooth @bravest-at-heart @ravenclawmarvel @rachramblesstuff @angelhaz11 @fairytaleparker @parkerpuff @arielweasley @devildisguiseasangel​ @nedthegay​ @parkeroffline​ @petersmparker​ @lovinnholland​ @tomhollandsumbrella​ @awkwardfangirl2014​ @officiallyunofficialperson​ @babebenhardy​ @sleepybesson​ @its-the-unknownspidey​ @antoouu​ @petersstarcadet​ @thollandx​ @xxxxdelenaxxxx​ @smexylemony​ @kxrtwxgner​ @styles-balor4eva​ @80sthottie​ @meghan-8520xx​ @marshyrebelcloud​

[jasontoddiefor]

Title: Robin’s Requirements Summary: The name’s Robin,” the kid said with Dick’s smirk and Jason’s accent. Bruce felt ice crawl up his veins. He was going to throw up.Robin number three wasn’t human and Bruce didn’t know how keep going after Jason’s death. They make it work (after a rough start). AN: I decided to put up all the chapters I’ve posted of this story so far in proper order on tumblr since some people prefer reading here. Here’s the AO3 link to the story! I update weekly!

Chapter 1

Summer in Gotham was almost unbearable. The smoke and ashes lingering in the air mixed with the heat radiated from the asphalt to create an atmosphere that made it difficult to breathe or even just move in. In-between the tall skyscrapers and the houses squished into spaces much too small for them, you got the closest you could be to the experience of boiling to death without actually dying.

Winter may freeze your limbs, break away one finger after another, but summer’s heat, similar to the blast of an explosion, burned away your skin.

The summer nights appeared to be the much kinder, softer counterpart to the day time for the poor creatures who had to make their way through dark alleys.

It was a farce.

Gotham wasn’t kind, she hadn’t been in a long time.

The coolness of the darkness lulled you into a false sense of security. You were exhausted already, scared of the shadows too maybe if you weren’t used to them, or if you knew what lingered beyond them, but at least death didn’t await you in the sun’s divine punishment.

A logical but wrong assumption.

Grim hunters stalked the dark, waiting for you to slip up, to make a mistake.

Or at least, they used to be there to sink their teeth into you.

For the longest time Gotham had been protected by three guardians, predators, but nowadays you only ever spotted one of them, and if you did, you were better off to slice your own throat, or so they said.

Nobody had ever attempted to deny that meetings with the Bat could get bloody, especially if you provoked him. Still, they didn’t used to look like a war zone, entrails spread over the grey asphalt as empty eyes judged you for all the horrors you committed. The Bat used to be kinder, more forgiving, more understanding.

He wasn’t anymore. He had broken like Gotham had so many decades ago.

He still protected the weak, the needy, the helpless, but he no longer fought for the damned.

Instead of being their ferryman, he brought them directly to hell. It wasn’t death, not yet, but by the time he was done, you would wish for it.

People wondered what had changed right up until the Joker nearly choked on his acid laughter in the Bat’s arms, laughing about little songbirds cut up so badly you couldn’t tell the red of their feather coat from their blood.

It made sense then that the Bat would start to lose control. Everybody knew that the little Robin was off-limits. You try to could hurt and maim him, or break him for sure, these were the rules of the streets, and if he wanted to fly through them, he had to acknowledge them, but only ever as long as the Bat was your actual target.

You did not target Robin, Gotham loved him.

(There was a price to be paid for his death.)

X

“Duke, honey, it’s time for bed!”

“I know, Mom! Just five more minutes!”

Duke Thomas considered himself to be a regular ten-year-old. He loved video games, Star Wars, his Mom’s cooking, his Dad’s jokes, and, above everything, Robin Spotting. It was so much fun to stay up late, hoping to catch a glimpse of that colorful uniform or hear the joyful laughter.

Duke had actually seen Robin once too, on his fire escape. The hero had smiled at him and then put his index finger on his lips, indicating for Duke to be silent. Caught up in his excitement, Duke hadn’t even been able to speak to the hero or do anything but stand at his window, jumping up and down. He had watched as Batman caught up with Robin and the duo had flown away, Robin pretty much glued to Batman’s side.

The alley beneath Duke’s window was dark and dirty, but the heroes had been able to light it up.

And now Robin was gone.

Duke couldn’t believe it.

The police hadn’t said anything about Robin’s disappearance. Duke checked the news every day when his parents weren’t watching him too closely, lest they start thinking he wanted to watch those instead of his cartoons, hoping to hear about something interesting that wasn’t economics. However, the papers had plenty to say about Robin. His Mom called them ‘gossip rags Duke was better off not paying too much attention to’, but he had read them regardless.

The papers claimed Robin was dead, said that the Joker had killed him.

Duke was sure they were lying.

Robin was magical, Robin couldn’t die.

(But the Joker rarely appeared to be human either.)

Maybe somebody just had to remind Robin that he was still needed here. Duke sometimes got so caught up in his thoughts, he forgot to do his homework. It was probably something similar for Robin

“Duke, lights out!” His Dad said when he passed by Duke’s room.

“Just one more minute!” Duke pleaded, not even looking up from his desk.

“Alright, alright.” Dad laughed. “But you have to tell me what you’re writing.”

He entered the room and stepped closer to take a look at the sheet of paper Duke had been writing on, but Duke quickly pulled it to his chest to hide his scribbles.

“No! You can’t see it! It will take away the magic.”

You didn’t show your parents the letter for Santa either, or it wouldn’t get to Santa. Of course, the latter wasn’t real, but Robin was. And honestly, there were rules about this kind of magic – his parents should know them.

Dad just raised his hands in defeat, still smiling in amusement.

“Okay, buddy, but tomorrow you have to share with the class.”

Duke frowned, unsure whether that would be enough time for Robin to get his letter.

“Later,” Duke yielded. “Once I know it worked.”

Dad’s smile softened and he patted Duke’s shoulder.

“Only one more minute, then bedtime. You have school tomorrow and I don’t want to get another call about you falling asleep in class.”

Duke huffed, but couldn’t hide his happy smile. “That was only once!”

“Once enough. Sleep well, kid.”

“Night, Dad.”

Dad walked out of Duke’s room, closing the door behind him so that Duke was staring at the Justice League poster pinned to the wood. Batman needed Robin, so Duke would remind the short hero that he had to come home.

He quickly finished his letter, packed it in transparent cover, and hid it away in his Super Secret Special box. It was actually just a shoebox he had painted yellow and orange and decorated with plastic gemstones, but Duke loved it. Then he turned off the light and crawled into his bed. Duke took his alarm clock from the nightstand and set the alarm for a few minutes before midnight. He wasn’t sure whether twelve o’clock really was the right time, but it seemed very important in a lot of movies, so Duke figured if he had to choose, he might as well go with this time. If he succeeded, he’d maybe write to the police as well, tell them how to contact Robin since the Bat-signal only worked for Batman.

Falling asleep when he was so nervous turned out to be a chore. It felt just like the evenings before his birthday when he could hear the blood rushing through his ears and it kept him awake for as long as possible.

Duke managed to sink into sleep sometime after his parents had gone to bed as well. He hadn’t even noticed that he’d drifted off right until his alarm rang again and Duke woke up startled. Tiredly, Duke crawled out of his bed and put on his socks to minimize the sound he made. He picked put the box and began tonight’s journey.

When he opened the door, he winced at the jarring sound. Even if he tried to be as slow as possible, the door refused to stay silent. Duke halted to listen if his parents still slept. His father’s snoring turned out to be a rather practical way of measuring it. Thankfully, his parents also didn’t wake when Duke stole the house keys out of his mother’s purse. With his box in hand, Duke sneaked out of the apartment and headed towards the stairs leading up to the rooftop.

The air inside the staircase was stuffy, receiving no circulation whatsoever. On tiptoes, Duke walked past the doors of his neighbors, being exceptionally careful when he passed the apartment of Ms. Norrington. She was, in the words of his usually calm and kind mother, a mean old witch, except she hadn’t said witch, but another word starting with a ‘b’ that Duke was too frightful to repeat. The old lady and her ugly little dog always watched Duke and his friend with her mean big blue eyes, especially when they were carrying toys. In Ms. Norrington’s opinion, there was nothing more terrible than children playing and having fun. One of these days, she wouldn’t even wait until Duke had made a sound, she’d just snatch his football away as soon as she would spot him. Therefore Duke needed to pass her without alarming her.

One step, another, a third and a fourth and Duke had done it. Victoriously, he rushed up the remaining staircases to the rooftop. If his parents knew that he was up here, they’d ground him for sure. None of the kids in the apartment block were supposed to go upstairs because the fence surrounding the roof hadn’t been fixed in ages and someone could get hurt or, even worse, fall off the roof when playing.

Duke thought it was stupid. He wouldn’t ever be dumb enough to fall off a house. However, that hadn’t stopped the adults from locking the door between Duke and his goal. But for that purpose, Duke had snatched his mother’s keys. His own keyring only had the keys for the front and backdoor, one for his bike and one for his Cousin’s home. His mother, on the other hand, did possess a key for the top door.

The lock was rusty and the key wouldn’t turn properly when Duke tried to open it. Duke bit on his tongue in concentration as he twisted the key multiple times until finally, after what felt like ages, the door clicked and opened.

Duke slowly closed it behind himself again, as to avoid the wind pushing it into the lock again with a loud BAM! Certainly, old Ms. Norrington would wake from that. Duke would just have to hurry and be finished before she managed to get out of bed, put on her pink shoes, ugly old and gray bathrobe and made it to the door.

Gotham was an ugly city according to the news, but Duke had long since learned not to trust them. Sure, the city could be a bit cleaner, but monuments like the shining WE building or the green Robinson park in the distance were signs that Gotham wasn’t as shitty as people claimed. The breeze here up on the rooftop was quite enjoyable too. They should tell their landlord to repair the fence quickly so that Duke could play Batman and Robin with his friends up here. That would be way cooler than going to the playground. Here they would be up on a real rooftop and didn’t have to pretend the monkey bars were the top of the Crystal Palace. Thinking of his two heroes, Duke reminded himself of his mission.

He looked around for the best spot to put his letter and settled on the water tank. A short ladder was leading up to it and so, with his box secured under his arms, Duke began to climb. He slipped nearly once or twice, but always managed to catch himself at the last second.

Once he reached the top, he allowed himself to sit down just to catch a quick breath. He was working on a schedule after all.

Duke set his box down next to him and took off the cover, revealing his letter to Robin and his most prized possession: a Batarang.

He’d found it in the trash a while ago and ever since he had the supreme right to always play Batman if he wanted to. He hadn’t told his parents about it because he knew they’d take it away, even if Duke didn’t take it outside his room usually. Why would he? He didn’t want it to get stolen by others!

Duke reached for the Batarang and then traced its edges with his fingers. It was still sharp, if he wasn’t careful he’d cut himself.

Duke didn’t have a Bat-signal, but he also didn’t want to attract that much attention. He was sure that if he just scratched something in the wooden surface of the water tank, Robin would spot it sooner or later. With the sharp side of the weapon, Duke began to scratch a big R into the wood. He made sure his carvings were deep enough that they’d be seen from above.

Then, with as much might as Duke could measure up, he rammed the Batarang through his letter into the wood so that it wouldn’t just fly away when left unsupervised.

There, his work was done.

Content with himself, Duke allowed himself to observe Gotham for a little while longer, forgetting Ms. Norrington for a moment. He wouldn’t get a sight as neat as this one again in a long while.

Duke climbed down from the water tank and returned inside. He made it past Ms. Norrington’s door and slipped into his apartment and room, his parents still sound asleep and none the wiser of Duke’s little adventure.

Yawning, Duke pulled his blanket over his head. It was sad that he had to give up his Batarang, but maybe he’d get a new one once Robin returned. And Duke didn’t mind playing other heroes.

After all, now it was really just a question of time.

X

Beneath him, the city was wide awake, even during such late hours. He should probably return to the Cave for tonight, he didn’t have any supplies besides the one lone Batarang. While he was sure that his wit alone would suffice to support Batman, a utility belt filled with all kinds of tricky equipment would be immense support, never mind much more fun.

He was already on the move, heading home for the first time, when Gotham started screaming for help. Her shouts spoke of fear, of a terrified mother scared for her children’s safety.

Somebody was threatening her - who?

Batman wouldn’t approve of it, he was sure, but generally speaking, it wasn’t his job to listen to Batman. He was there to support the Bat and, more importantly, keep Gotham safe. He couldn’t do that from the Cave.

With a wild grin, he jumped from the rooftop, executing a perfect landing on the balcony of the next house. Quickly he moved forward, making his way through the cold September air to come to Gotham’s aid.

He was Robin.

He had been born for this.

[corkcitylibraries]

Ireland Reads | 10 BorrowBox Picks for Children and Young Adult Readers

by Jordan McCarthy

The Ireland Reads day offers the perfect opportunity for every kind of reader to celebrate the magical gift of reading. Regular readers, new readers and those who are about to rediscover the wonders and joys of reading, can enrich their lives during a time when our daily routines need it more than ever.

While our libraries may be closed, the online resource, BorrowBox, is one of the real gems being offered by libraries during lockdown. More and more readers are using the platform which has thousands upon thousands of wonderful eAudiobooks and eBooks.

And better yet, this online service, like all the others offered by Cork City Libraries, is free to all library members. If you haven’t yet joined, you can do this for free at www.librariesireland.ie/join-your-library.

Whatever we choose to read or listen to this month, we know that we are nourishing our health and wellbeing in doing so. The possibilities a good book – or magazine, comic, newspaper or whatever you choose to read - can bring to our lives are endless.

“If you don’t like to read, you haven’t found the right book.” – J.K. Rowling’

Below are ten of the top picks currently available on the Children’s and Young Adult section of BorrowBox. Like all great kids’ books, they will prove gripping and engaging for many adult readers, too.

So, squeeze in a read this month. You can find out more about the Ireland Reads initiative by visiting irelandreads.ie. And don’t forget to pledge your reading time!

  Long Way Down  by Jason Reynolds - Young Adult

(Available on eBook and eAudiobook)

‘‘Now

I’m wishing I would’ve

laughed more

at his dumb jokes

because the day

before yesterday,

Shawn was shot

and killed.’’

This remarkable Y.A. thriller is set over the course of 60 seconds. Written in lyrical, verse-like prose, it tells the tale of a revenge-seeking William, whose brother has been shot dead.

But when Will sets out to get his revenge, some ghosts from his past appear in the elevator on his way down to the ground floor.  Will he go ahead with his murderous plan?

There’s a sense of urgency in this fast-paced novel, though he soon realises; it is a ‘long way down’ from the 8th to the ground floor.

  Hero On A Bicycle by Shirley Hughes – Children (10+)

(Available on eBook and eAudiobook)

‘‘He stopped and slung his bicycle against a nearby wall to get his breath back and consider the situation. At that moment someone came up silently behind him and clapped a strong hand over his mouth.’’

Set in Florence, Italy during World War II, this is historical fiction at its finest. The Allies are closing in on Nazi-occupied Florence and 14 year-old Paolo has been taking secret bike rides late every night to beat the boredom of life under curfew. He misses his dad – an anti-Fascist who is in hiding - and rues the fact that he is too young to join the military.

However, when Paolo receives a frightening message on his way home from one of his late-night treks, he suddenly becomes involved in the thick of the action. Can he become the hero during his hometown’s greatest time of need?

This is an excellent novel, which captures one family’s struggles during war.

Not suitable for younger children, some upsetting themes.

   Zom-B; Underground  by Darren Shan – Young Adult

(eAudiobook)

‘‘Can you hold on to your humanity when you're a monster....’’

This fantasy-horror, dystopian novel by the ‘Master of Horror’ is book two in the Zom-B series.

B Smith is the main protagonist in this story, which is set during a zombie apocalypse. When she wakes up in a laboratory-style military camp, ‘B’ learns that she has become ‘Zom-B’.

Can she meet the demands of her captors or is she doomed?

Will she be a monster forever?

  The Dog Who Lost His Bark by  Eoin Colfer – Children

(eAudiobook)

‘‘In his short doggy life, Oz has suffered at the hands of BAD PEOPLE. Somewhere out there, he believes, is an AWESOME BOY – his BOY. Maybe when they find each other he will learn to BARK again ...’’

Patrick comes from a very musical family and he has wanted a pet dog for a very long time. When he rescues an abandoned puppy on his summer holidays, he calls him Oz, and so begins a strong friendship between a boy and a dog – at least that’s what we hope!

Oz is a nervous little creature and he can’t bark, or at least he doesn’t bark when he moves to his new home. Will he ever bark again? Maybe the musical family will be able to get him barking again!

This heart-warming children’s tale, from the creator of the Artemis Fowl series, shows how important music can be in the healing process.

  Rugby Spirit by Gerard Siggins - Children

(eAudiobook)

‘‘A new school, a new sport, an old mystery ... the first instalment in Gerard Siggins’ beloved and bestselling Rugby Spirit series.’’

Eoin Madden is the grandson of a legendary Irish rugby player. When he starts a new school in Dublin, leaving behind his GAA playing days in Tipperary, his rugby adventure begins.

In Casterock College, rugby is everything! But Eoin has never even held a rugby ball before. And the bully, Richie Duffy, is making his life even more difficult. Can Eoin make an impact in his very first season on a school rugby team?

This is one for fans of sport and fiction. It provides lots of insight into the game of rugby, too.

   Once by Morris Gleitzman – Children

(Available on eBook and eAudiobook)

‘‘Once I saved a girl called Zelda from a burning house.

Once I made a Nazi with toothache laugh.

My name is Felix.

This is my story.’’

Once is the first book in Morris Gleitzman’s Felix and Zelda series. Set during the Second World War, this novel is a tale of hope, friendship and survival.

Felix is in a Catholic orphanage in Poland in 1942. The son of Jewish booksellers, he fears that the Nazi’s are burning Jewish books and believes that his parents’ store could be next.

The young Jewish boy departs the orphanage, longing to find his mum and dad, and to warn them about the Nazis. Felix soon discovers that his hometown has changed utterly. A race for survival ensues.

Not suitable for younger, some upsetting themes

   Sabrina; Season Of the Witch by Sarah Rees-Brennan – Young Adult

(eAudiobook)

‘‘To be a witch is to kiss the moon.’’

Inspired by the Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, this fantasy novel is a prequel to that Netflix series. It is the story of what went before the "Sabrina the Teenage Witch" show.

Sabrina is half-mortal, half-witch. Before she turns 16, and becomes full-powered, she realises how scared she is of joining the dark side and leaving her mortal life behind.

Can she discard her boyfriend Harvey, and her other mortal friends? This is her origin story; a spooky adventure for fans of the Sabrina series.

   Ultimate Football Heroes; Rashford  by M & T Oldfield - Children

(Available on eBook and eAudiobook)

‘‘When the referee blew his whistle, Marcus started his well-practiced penalty routine:

Four little shuffles to the left,

then short steps forward to try to fool the keeper, and then BANG!’’

The Ultimate Football Heroes series is a biographical story of the life of a star footballer. It charts the rise of some of world football’s biggest names, from the playground to the pitch.

Marcus Rashford is one of the most exciting players in the English Premier League. The Manchester United star has been one of the standout stories over the last year, with his campaign to keep free school meals available for children in the UK.

In Rashford, we learn about the life of Marcus – from when he would watch Man Utd playing on TV as a baby, to scoring important Champions League goals for the Red Devils.

A fast-paced story, full of action, it is one for all the family to enjoy. Others in the series include Kane and Delli Alli, which are available on BorrowBox.  

   Slam! You’re Gonna Wanna Hear This by Nikita Gill – Young Adult

(eBook)

‘‘Poetry is the language of Fire, Fury and Freedom,’’ says Nikita Gill.

Slam! is a collection of poems performed at ‘slams’, or spoken word competitions. It features established and emerging voices, with themes such as home, kin, protest and desire among those in the collection.

Slam! highlights the importance of poetry for the times we live in. It provides an ideal introduction into modern poetry and is a terrific publication.

   The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien – Children

(Available on eBook and eAudiobook)

‘‘In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort.’’

J.R.R. Tolkien’s classic fantasy novel is the prequel to his Lord of the Rings saga. Tolkien wrote the story for his own children before it was published into a worldwide bestseller. First published over 80 years ago, it continues to be enjoyed by young and old.

This otherworldly tale features the hobbit, Bilbo Baggins, who has been recruited as a burglar by Gandalf for an epic quest. Expect trolls, goblins, dwarves, elves, giant spiders, and the dragon, Smaug, as Bilbo and the gang make their way across Middle Earth in search of treasure.