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stillinaincrad · 3 years

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A Baker’s Dozen List of 13 Anime for When You Just Want to Laugh Your &%$ Off.

1. Good Luck Girl (Binbougami Ga)

My biggest complaint with the majority of comedic anime out there is that there’s either no story, the schtick gets old after a few episodes, or there’s only one or two characters that are worth anything and the rest are just there to fill out a classroom. Binbougami Ga has always been that one comedy show that is just plain unforgettable, one of my favorite funny anime. Great characters, great narrative, an abundance of feel-good, and right alongside all that is some of the most side-splitting gags and hilarity you’ll ever see, each one as fresh as the one before it. I have to call Binbougami Ga a must-watch, it’s as good as they get.

2. Konosuba (Kono Subarashii Sekai ni Shukufuku wo!)

And that’s a tall, tall order when put next to this band of merry misfits that I am enamored with. I can’t even describe how funny this show is, especially if you have ever been an RPG game nerd (they embody common in-game stereotypes that make the chemistry between them that much more ironic, but you don’t have to “get” that dynamic to totally love this show). The personalities are too perfect, the cynicism and snark are honed to a discernable edge. Konosuba is one of my all-time favorite titles period, in any genre. So much pure, top-tier shenanigans throughout.

3. My Bride is a Mermaid (Seto no Hanayome)

Man, they just do not make them like this anymore. Sebastian left out a lot when he was singing about what goes on under the sea - mermaid mafias, transforming sharks, Terminator dads, loyal chimp sidekicks, and non-stop wackiness that will have you squirting whatever you’re drinking out through your nose with regularity. If you’re looking for a good time, you can’t ask for much more than Sun and Nagasumi and everyone that comes along with them.

4. Amagi Brilliant Park

There is a lot more going on in AmaBri than just hijinks - there is character progression. There is plot. There is linearity. You’re going to fall in love with several of these characters, because they’re worth falling for. But you’re going to LOL quite often, as well. Every single one of these cute and fuzzy little people (or fairies, to be... fair?) is a horribly flawed and hateful piece of work who loves nothing more than torturing one another for sport. Of course, they all come together and everybody lives happily ever after in the end and anime happens just like you expect it to, but getting there is too much fun.

5. The Devil is a Part-Timer ( Hataraku Maou-sama!)

We have once again come to one of my all-time favorites, a show I will hold out with both arms over Pride Rock for the whole herd to see is in the world. It’s not just my favorite tsundere that has ever tsunded, it's not just the cavalcade of Sasaki’s facial expressions that make you laugh so hard you have to rewind a few seconds to catch missed dialogue, and it isn’t just the ridiculousness of it all that makes you wonder how off-kilter the person who thought it up in the first place has to be. Devil is a very good, very complete story. It’s such a very well done, very polished, start-to-finish anime. But yes, one that also happens to be insanely funny.

6. Aho-Girl

You want as much pointless, plotless, slapstick gutter humor as can be crammed into a 12-minute timeframe? Here ya go. Stupidity at near sonic nonstop speeds, but the characters are so much fun it’s easy to binge episode after episode.

7. Nichijou (Nichijou - My Ordinary Life)

Speaking of random, zany, and all around wtfedness humor, you will never see everyday happenings exploited and pushed to the edge of where a joke can go more than these six girls (and one cat) do. I think of Nichijou like Indian food or that single-malt that your dad really loves but you’ve never seen in a store - a lot of the show is acquired taste imo. But, if you’ve acquired it? Oye. So much bonkers going on in here!

8. Gintama

Gintama is a show I can only take in small doses - the constant pundits and so-stupid-you-laugh moments wear on me after a while. Still, anybody who puts out a list of comedy anime and does not include Gintama is just asking to be discredited on the spot. Even people who don’t watch anime seem to understand that Gintama is one of the funniest shows out there, and even from someone who isn’t a huge fan, there are moments that I still remember years later and crack up.

9. D-Frag

The OP song alone is just a random mishmosh of words that shouldn’t go together. Kazama Kenji shouts almost all his lines through the first few episodes. Some of the jokes are so far left of left field that the absurdity alone is what makes you bust up. And then, just about the time you catch your bearings and start to snuggle up to the constant silly of these little wierdos, you realize the same thing the characters do as the show goes on - all this is actually a ton of fun. Very nutty, very funny anime. Such a good time.

10. Hyakko

Originally watched this one because the artwork was so unique to me, stayed for the giggle fits I couldn’t tame. The mix of personalities of all these girls is great, and the timing between Torako and Tatsuki especially is fantastic. The last 3-4 episodes unfortunately are pretty much filler and feel a bit more canned than the rest, but for a title that I never really see people talking about, Hyakko delivers the howls in spades.

11. Strange+

Ever watch an anime and wonder how in the world they came up with the title? Yeah, this isn’t one of them. Strange+ is definitely strange in an outlandishly wonderful way. Short episodes with exactly no progression, no plot, and most of the time not even a point except to be ludicrous and farcical nonstop. Truly one of the most unique shorts I’ve ever seen, and one of the laugh-out-loudest, as well.

12. Moyashimon

If Strange+ wasn’t worthy enough of its title, it would have been a perfect fit for Moyashimon, because “quirky” doesn’t even scratch the surface. There are plenty of laughs on their own, but the climate of the whole thing from start to finish is just awkward enough that even the times when it tries to be serious and salient it’s freaking hilarious. Mostly, though, I have had three (yes, THREE) Covid tests in the past month and keep thinking how awesome it would be if I had a Sawaki Tadayasu in my life to just ask instead of being repeatedly stabbed in the brain with a q-tip (he can see microorganisms, btw - and most of the time they’re a riot). I think of this whole list, Moyashimon is likely the most niche humor of them all, but I’ve always loved the wildly creative originality and the outside-the-lines, twisted sense of humor of these three college cohorts with ginormous personalities. If you can find both seasons somewhere to stream, definitely worth checking out. Just a marvelous time.

13. Ranma 1/2

So, I won’t say I’ve been saving the BEST laughs for last this whole time, but I definitely saved the MOST until now. Ranma Saotome (or Ranka Tendo, depending on what’s happening that episode) and the entire cast of this light-hearted, persiflage fanfare are so deep in my heart we’re practically simbiotic at this point. Plot? Not really. Arcs? Ocassionally, but not really. GOOD, HEARTFELT FUN and a huge cast of distinctly outrageous characters? Most definitely. Ranma 1/2 is one of the first shows I remember watching, and it was just as good at making me laugh then as it is 25yrs later, truly one of the best out there.

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lesbian-deadpool · 3 years

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Saving Rosie

Part One of Two: “I’m Not A Spy.”

Rosie Betzer x Reader

Words: 5,768

Warnings: WWII (and everything that comes with that era), Nazis, spy shit, arguing, alludes to execution, sadness... I think that may be it.

Request: No.

Summary: You save the woman you have grown close to over the past few years you have been undercover as a Nazi general, and now you’re going to save her family.

A/N: Me, still broken after watching Jojo Rabbit almost a year and a half ago?? It’s more likely than you think... so, apparently I write Rosie Beltzer fics now lol

Also, just some lil notes. The reader in this is undercover as a male Nazi general, and they’re not actually German in this fic.

EDIT: I accidentally tagged this as a Natasha fic lmao. I fixed it now tho.

Ko-Fi

Commissions

(Not My GIF)

***

"It's a lovely night for it, huh?"

For what? You weren't

certain. Maybe it was the full moon. Maybe, it was the clear sky. The deserted streets, perhaps... what loomed in the following days to come.

Or maybe, just maybe. It was the woman by your side.

The woman hummed, a small sweet smile caressing her face.

"One of the better ones we've had in years. Came her strong German accent. A stark difference to yours, considering you no longer had to mask it. Around her, anyway.

Your smile mirrored hers as it brightened.

"It sure is."

"I can't believe it's almost over. And after so long..." she said, while you grunted, sitting down beside her on the small roof over the open attic window. "This unjust war is finally coming to an end."

"Okay, you're starting to sound like my commander now."

Rosie chuckled at your words, moving to softly lean into your side, keeping her head up to continue looking at the bright white stars that littered the midnight blue sky.

"Why do you always insist on meeting up here?" you grumbled, no malice in your voice, "It's a pain in the ass to get up onto the roof, from the outside, y'know?"

"You're a spy, aren't you? Aren't you supposed to be good at this stuff?"

"Oh cheeky," you laughed, lightly slapping the side of her leg, with the back of your hand. Rosie's quiet giggles following your remark, "And I'm an undercover soldier. Those are two very different things."

"Still." She shrugged.

You sat in silence for a small while. Over the few years, you and Rosie had grown close. Meeting up on her rooftop, at the dead of night, where there was no chance of anyone seeing you together, this way, becoming an almost every day occurrence.

You knew you could trust her the moment you first met, almost three years ago. After you had stolen the identity of a Nazi officer, that looked starkly like you. Luckily, there was hardly any information about this person. So, there was less chance for your cover to be blown.

Soon, the resistance that Rosie had been deeply a part of was un-earthed to you, thanks to your informant and the letter she carried. It wasn't long after that you started working with them too. Helping them better than they could ever hope, thanks to the military resources and information you brought.

"What happened to your neck?" Rosie asked, pulling you out from where you were, deep in your memories.

A hand came up to rub at your slightly sore skin.

"My informant can be cruel..."

Rosie cocked a blonde eyebrow at you, wanting an explanation from you.

You sighed, getting ready to tell her.

***

Eyes burned into the woman from all sides as her heels kicked against the polished wooden, yet stained, floor. Her light brown hair shone under the glowing lights, confidence radiating from her just the same.

"Can I help you?" a German Soldier slid in front of her, she had to stop herself from sneering at the man. For both his being a Nazi and his sweaty stench. But instead, she managed a sultry smirk.

"I'm here to see your General," she replied, in a German accent.

"Don't bother," another Soldier, this one drunk and slightly swaying, called over, from where he was pressed into the wall a few feet behind her.

"I don't think your General would take too kindly to you stealing what they paid for."

"They're gonna have fun with you," he replied, blatantly looking her up and down. Like a wolf would, to a tiny bunny, ready to devour it whole. However, the wolf was not a wolf at all, the wolf was, in fact, the bunny, and the bunny was the actual wolf.

She would tear him to shreds, given the chance.

"The General is in the usual room," the original man said, "Fair warning, though. They're not in a good mood today."

The woman began strutting down the hallway, once again. Throwing, "Aren't they always?" over her shoulder once she passed him by.

When she opened the thick wooden door you resided behind, the sounds of your continued groan began pouring through the crack.

"Sometimes I cannot believe that you got this assignment," she uttered in her original London accent, with her back pressed against the now-closed door.

You finished your groan off and took a deep breath before you uttered your reply.

"Luck-of-the-draw, I guess," you spoke from the floor where you lay on your back, with a shrug, "That, or I look strikingly alike the guy who died. The Nazi prick."

She walked over to you, one foot rising to press her heel into your neck, your thyroid resting in the open space of the shoe.

A choking noise sprang from your mouth as you flailed your limbs around gently. You knew that if she were to press any harder, she would surely manage to choke you.

"You're not suited for this job."

The brunette pressed harder against your throat before she released you. Leaving you to turn on your side, coughing and spluttering.

"Well, no shit. I'm a soldier, not a spy."

"You can tell."

"What was that all about?" You motioned to your neck. Red marks already making their way upon the tender flesh.

"We need to make it seem like we are having sex. Remember? I am supposed to be your hooker after all."

"You're a bitch, is what you are."

She scowled at you as you rolled yourself onto your stomach, sighing when you finally got to your feet.

"Where's the update?"

You hummed, almost as if you were remembering what you were here to do. Removing the crystal tumbler from your lips the whisky sloshing around inside. Reaching behind you, you pulled the file from where it was tucked into your pants and under your shirt. Handing it over to her.

"Is this it?" She asked, weighing the file in her hand, "It's very light."

"Yeah, and so's the information swimming around. Unless you wanna hear about the fish Agatha caught last weekend," you snarked back, moving to point at the file with the same hand that held your glass, "There's some good stuff in there. It's not much. But it's good."

"I'll take your word for it."

She tucked the folder into the long overcoat she wore, then you saw her eyebrows furrow.

"Aren't you supposed to take care of that?" She nodded towards the uniform jacket you had thrown across the room not long after you had entered it.

"You sneered at the fore-talked about item.

"I hate it and everything it stands for." You turned back to face her. "As soon as all of this bullshit is over, I'm burning that fucking armband. And then the rest of the fucking uniform."

"Real calm there, aren't you?"

"Don't start shit with me, Hannah." You took a large swig of your drink, almost emptying the glass. "I know that you wish you had somehow gotten this mission. But trust me, you don't fucking want it. The shit I've seen and done. The stuff that I've had to authorise, just to keep my cover. The fucking horror storied these monsters have told proudly, or as if they're fucking jokes." You were panting now. "You don't want that."

You had her startled into silence. Hannah had never expected this to come from you.

"How's the resistance?"

You grunted. Downing the rest of the brown liquor before moving to pour yourself another glass three fingers tall.

"It's going." you gave a heavy nod. "Still trying to spread the word."

Hannah hummed, slowly making her way towards you. Fingers coming up to razzle her hair, and wipe her lipstick, so it smudged onto her cheek.

"How's the blonde?"

"What-?" you were cut off when she wiped the red lipstick on her fingers across your own lips, leaving a smudge like hers there. "Ugh," you groaned, moving away from her palm, only to utter small obscenities and sounds of pain when her lipstick freehand messed up your short, slicked-back hair.

"What blonde?" you finally managed to ask.

"The one from the resistance. What's her name?" She clicked her fingers together, in realisation, "Rosie."

"Oh! Yeah, she's fine, and so are the kids."

"You seem to be taking a shine to her, from what I hear from the resistance. You and Rosie seem to be something of a dynamic duo."

Suddenly your shirt was ripped open, from the collar to your ribs. Making your eyes widen in shock.

However, you were used to this by now, so they soon returned back to their regular size.

"Yeah, we're friends."

Hannah hummed, something akin to a knowing smirk on her face. As she untucked your shirt.

"I'd keep an eye on her, though."

She opened your pants.

"She's being watched."

Breathless at what she just said, you stood stock still, watching as she walked towards the wooden door.

"Oh." Hannah stopped, her hand upon the handle, pulling some pieces of paper from her pocket and threw them to the floor, "I'll leave you to deliver the bad news."

And with that, she left.

***

You forewent telling Rosie everything from the mention of her.

Thinking it the best if she heard it differently.

"That really sounds like a spy meeting to me," Rosie said with a smirk, knowing it would annoy you to no end.

You closed your eyes before you could roll them into the back of your head. Taking a deep breath, you exhaled, "I'm not a spy."

"So, you've said," she giggled.

"You're drunk," you mumbled to yourself.

"What was that?"

"How are the kids?" you asked, clearly watching as Rosie groaned lightly. Her head down-turned, almost sad looking.

"Jojo's still obsessed with Hitler and everything. And Elsa's doing her best. But I can tell how much this is affecting her. And in what world wouldn't it?"

"She's strong." You nodded. "She'll get through it. We all will."

"And what about Jojo?"

Rosie turned to face you, hair swaying as she did. You could see the glazed look in her eye's, telling yourself to be extra vigilant with the woman upon the roof. You had to make sure she didn't fall off in her drunken state.

"Is he going to be like this for the rest of his life?"

Tears were building in her eyes now.

"Supporting evil dictators, wanting to take over the world, and fill it with hate?"

"No. No, of course not," you whispered. Reaching over, you clasped her cheeks between your rough, war-hardened hands. Wiping away her silent tears. "He's just a boy. A boy who wants to be a part of something, even if he doesn't understand what that is. What monster's he's following. He will realise one day. Trust me."

"I trust you." She nodded. "It just. It's hard. It's so hard. Especially when he plays up, like he did at dinner today."

"He did?"

She hummed with a nod.

"We're low on food right now. I had to go without to feed Elsa. But Jojo, he didn't know, obviously, so he took that too. Then he started arguing about his father-"

You inhaled sharply, shoulders tensing. But luckily for you, she didn't notice your reaction.

"-I yelled at him... we made up not long after, but I still feel awful about it. I'm a terrible mother."

"No, you're not-"

"I am-"

"No. You're not," you said firmly. Grabbing her forearm, gently moving it side to side, to get your point further across, "You're such a caring and amazing person. Your heart is so big and kind. And you're an even better mother. It's like all of that is doubled for those kids."

"Thank you," Rosie whispered, tears in her eyes once again, before she moved to wipe them away.

"Anyway, you're way better than my mother. She abandoned me at a farm. I was lucky a cow didn't shit on me."

She giggled at your little joke.

"I'm so sorry that happened to you."

"There's no need. I wouldn't change it."

Things were quiet for a few minutes when you suddenly remembered.

"Oh!" You reached into your pocket and pulled out three packages, wrapped in brown paper and tied together with string. "I guess it was just lucky that I brought these then."

"What are they?"

"Beef sandwiches, I thought you would like them."

"Oh, you're a lifesaver," she spoke in something close to a moan as she took a bite out of her sandwich.

You gave a small chuckle at the woman seated beside you, "I'd thought you'd say that. I'll have to start bringing food over to these meetings of ours because it's not like I can do it out in the open."

"People would think something was going on between us," Rosie hummed.

"You're right about that. Everyone is so bored around here. Gossip is like their life sauce."

"Would you be surprised if I told you that it was the same before the war?"

"Not at all," you laughed.

Rosie finished her sandwich, and you dreaded what was coming next.

"I need to tell you something," you almost whispered.

She bumped her shoulder against yours when you didn't continue.

"Well? What is it?"

"It... it's about your husband..."

You watched her carefully as you said that, all the while emotions, flew into her while she processed them.

She held back more tears, ones from the look on her face that she had shed more times than she could count. Face contoured into one of concealed pain. Looking away from your gentle, caring eyes while rubbing her hands together.

"He's dead, isn't he?"

"I'm afraid so." You nodded, looking out before you, into the starry night sky.

That's when you felt a tiny jolt beside you. Looking over at the blonde, you watched as a tear trickled down her cheek.

"I'm so sorry," you whispered.

With a gasp and a wet sniff, Rosie wiped her tears away.

"What happened?"

"There was a raid, some members of a resistance was there, your husband included. None of them made it... they saved the people they intended to, however."

She nodded with a sad yet proud smile.

"How long ago was this?"

You swallowed. Hating the words you were about to say.

"A little over a year ago."

You winced when you heard her sobs, ones being held in so hard just so no one could overhear her cries.

And, sickeningly so, the worst thing of all was that you didn't know how to help her.

Placing a hand upon her back, rubbing small comforting circles into her shoulder. Feeling her lean into you, face now pushed into your neck.

"I'm here. Everything's going to be alright."

You left not too long later, after already spending way too much time up on that roof.

Rosie wished you a "goodbye" with the promise that she would be fine. However, she didn't reply to you when you told her not to finish the rest of the wine. That she had been pounding for the majority of the day.

Before you arrived "home" and promptly collapsed onto the bed.

***

The afternoon sun was warm upon your face as you walked the streets of the German town. Watching as children ran around, women worked, and well, gossiped, and Nazi soldiers came and went.

Soon. You thought. This will all be over soon.

That's when you heard the murmured words from the women you had just walked past.

"Yes, the Gestapo. They're here right now."

"Who for?" the other woman asked, voice slightly higher at the aspect of such "juicy" gossip.

Sometimes it surprised you just how detached some of these people were from human lives. But then you took a step back and saw everything that was happening in the world. And you weren't surprised anymore. Just disappointed.

"The traitors wife. Beltzer."

And now you were scared.

"-They should be taking her to the square, right now."

It was like the world had slowed down as you turned to look at them, meeting their curious eyes.

The last thing you heard before taking off at a run towards the town square was a fading, "Like husband, like wife. I guess."

The people you passed by looked at you like you were insane. To see a, what they thought, General, sprinting down streets and panting like crazy, it set them on edge.

But you didn't give a damn about what anybody thought.

You just had to get to the square.

And quick.

***

By the time you got there, you had a light shine over your skin. Thanks to the sweat from both the running you had done and the worry that coursed through you.

"Remove your hands from her," came your faux German accent.

"She is a traitor to the Reich," one of the Gestapo's, seemingly the leader, replied assuredly.

"And what proof do you have of this?"

Rosie was terrified. You could see that as clear as day, no matter how she tried to keep calm. It was written all over her face.

So, you forcefully pushed their hands from the heavily breathing woman and pulling her to stand by your side and away from the group of men dressed in black suits.

"I'll have you know, we have very probable tips from some of the community-"

""Probable"?!" you shouted, causing the on edge woman beside you to jump slightly. To which you pulled her closer to you as a form of comfort. Your hand, coming to rest on her shoulder.

"Yes. Probable. We cannot have risks."

"Well, I say that it is bullshit."

"You have no jurisdiction or authority over our department."

"And I never said I did. I am saying that I vouch for this woman."

"But the tip-off's-" another man began.

"You choose to believe lonely and bored housewives over a General?!" You watched as their faces fell, and they tried to grab onto any straw they could to change your mind.

"There is still a chance-"

"There is no chance!"

"And can you be so sure?!"

"Do you really believe that I, a General, would be with her if you were right?"

"With her?" a third Gestapo asked curiously.

You knew what you had to do to get her back home, safe and away from the men trying to execute and make a spectacle of her. Just like the poor people hanging to your right.

"It means that I have been seeing her. Romantically, if you still do not fully understand, what I mean."

They didn't say anything for a few short moments, only stumbling and stuttering over their own voices.

"So, tell me. Who are you choosing to believe?"

"Uh. Y-You General."

"Good." You nodded once. "Now, I'm going to take her home. Goodbye, gentlemen," you spat. Turning on your heel, with Rosie under your arm, and walking away.

"Are you okay?" you whispered. Not drawing any attention to yourself or Rosie.

"I'm fine. Thank you for saving me," she replied in the same way.

"I wouldn't have done anything else." Your hand slipped down to the blondes dip in her lower back, helping to guide her back home. "Where are the flyers? Did you have any on you?"

"Yes. I threw them down the drain before they could see."

"Good. You did good." A squeeze to her hip before your hand returned to her lower back, just to keep up the appearance of the lie. "They're not gonna find them."

***

Rosie had relaxed more by the time you were at the bottom of her street when you saw a distinctly expensive car parked outside of Rosie's house. A car that everyone knows belongs to that of Gestapo's.

"Is Jojo home?" you asked, just stood there starring at the sight, with Rosie by your side.

"Yes," she husked.

"Shit."

And that's when you both broke out in a run.

You, being faster than Rosie, arrived at the building first. Barging through the door, with her hot on your heels.

Pounding your way up the stairs, only to come face to face with a gang of men, identically dressed to the Gestapo's, you had just saved Rosie from. Along with Jojo and Elsa, in clothes that didn't look like they belonged to her. Not to mention the demoted soldier, holding an identification book.

"What is the meaning of this?!"

"What are you doing in my house?!" you and Rosie said at the same time. Your yell angrier, compared to her more so worried one.

"We are searching the premises," the lead man, who wore round glasses, spoke. Face confused as to why Rosie was still alive. But as soon as he saw the anger chiselled upon your face. He could take a successful guess as to who had stopped the execution.

"Mama, they were just checking Inge's identification," Jojo said as his mother rushed towards him. Her hands, on his cheeks, as she checked him over.

"Oh, yes. Of course." Rosie pulled Jojo along to bring Elsa into her side, just as you had done for her mere minutes ago. "Are you both alright?"

She gained words and nods of confirmation from the two children.

"I think it's time that you all left."

"But-" one Gestapo said, looking to Rosie.

"But nothing," you continued, "I'm sure your associates will fill you in on their mistake. Now, if you are finished, I ask that you leave this house."

"We were just about to, anyway," the leader said, leading the way out for everyone. But not before the ID was handed back to the assumed Inge. With you trailing after, to slam the door behind them.

You turned, leaning your back against the wooden door, sighing deeply.

"Are they gone?" Rosie called down, leaning over the railing, to peer down at you.

The stairs creaked below you, the layer of carpet doing nothing to quiet them. You spoke your confirmation, as you reached her, "They're gone."

The kids looked like they had just been caught with their hand's in the cookie jar.

"So..." the caring woman started, "You two know about each other."

They nodded.

"For how long?"

"A couple of weeks, at most," Jojo said.

"How did you even find out about her?"

"I-I found the hatch-"

"He crawled in-"

"And I found her-"

"He was terrified."

"Was not!"

"Was too."

"Was not!"

"Was too!"

"Okay, enough," Rosie raised her voice, gaining the bickering children's attention.

Taking a breath, she ran her hands through her soft blonde hair.

"And you never told anyone?"

"No." Jojo shook his head. "I didn't want you to get into trouble..." It was at that point, he realised you were silently stood behind his mother, watching as everything unfolded and who you were.

Rosie caught this and looked over her shoulder at you.

"Don't worry," she told both of the kids, crouching down before them. Elsa's face one of mild terror.

This is when it hit you that these kids were exactly that.

Kids.

Kid's that were too scared of their mothers, or motherly figure, scolding them, than the actual, apparent danger that lurked not too far away.

"They're not going to tell anybody. They know. And won't let anything happen. To any of us." she manoeuvred to face you. "Right?"

You nodded. "Absolutely. I will do my best to protect all of you."

"Speaking of." She slowly rose to her feet, walking towards you.

The hand that Rosie placed upon your arm was gentle, almost like she was worried she would hurt you. Fingers curling into the jacket of the uniform you loathed.

"I have to speak with the General. So, you two stay up here. Understood?"

They nodded.

"Good." She pulled you through the open door, but before she could close it fully, her head popped through the door, "Oh. And we're not done yet. We still have a lot to talk about."

Then the door clicked shut.

"You're really good at that."

"What?"

"Being a mother."

"I know. You've told me before."

***

Things had changed rather quickly when you arrived downstairs.

Sat upon the blue cotton cushions of the wooden framed couch. Watching as Rosie paced around in front of you, fingertips rubbing against her full lips, worry etched across her face.

Your eyebrows shot up, and your body straightened when she turned to face you. Arms now down by her sides.

"So, we're together, huh?"

"I'm sorry," you replied, German accent dropped, "But that was the only thing that would get them to back off and drop the suspicions against you."

"I know." She nodded, completely understanding. Before her minimal composure dropped, and the worry came back. "What do we do? Jojo obviously thinks you are a traitor now. What if he tells someone?"

"He won't." You stood abruptly, taking Rosie's shoulder's into your hands, squeezing them gently. "He didn't tell anyone about Elsa when he had so many chances to do so. Hell, he had the chance, not even five minutes ago. But he hasn't said a word, purely just to keep you safe... he doesn't understand that this could hurt him and Elsa too. He doesn't know what's happening."

"But this is different-"

"Yes, it is different. It's better he thinks I'm a traitor, helping his family, than him knowing I'm an undercover soldier."

"You mean a spy?"

"Don't you start with that shit." You pointed at her playfully.

Rosie's smile dropped when a thought popped into her mind.

"Do you think they will still come back?"

"It is possible," you said honestly, "Which is why we should leave as soon as we possibly can."

"And go where?"

"Anywhere that isn't here."

"What do I tell the kids- What do I tell Jojo?" she clarified.

"The truth. You tell them that they could come back and that we all need to leave because we could all be in danger."

With her head in her hand's, the blonde scoffed tearily, "God. This fucking war."

"I know. I know."

You pulled her into your chest, letting her cry into you. Arms wound around your torso tightly.

"I hate it, For so many reasons."

"I know," you repeated again, "I feel the same."

"When will it just end? When will people be safe again?"

Deciding that it would be best to tell her the truth, you said, "I don't know. Soon I hope."

And there you sat, for a small while longer, allowing the blonde to cry into your chest.

***

You had left.

Gone to go gather some of your things, thinking it best to stay with Rosie and the kids while you were forced to stay in town.

All the while Rosie, spoke to the kids about leaving.

"I don't understand why we have to go!"

Was what you were greeted with as you entered the home.

"Because it is not safe for us here anymore," Rosie's voice came, calm but firm.

"But they won't come back."

"That's not entirely true," you spoke, entering the kitchen. Placing the leather bag you carried and the wicker basket upon the small table against the wall, you continued, "There's always a chance, no matter how small."

The young boy watched you silently for a minute. Not knowing what to say.

"Trust me, Jojo. I know how all of this works. I just want to keep you all safe, so does your mother. And this is the best way to do it.2

Jojo sighed.

"Where will we go?"

Rosie looked at you intently when her son asked this, wondering the same thing.

"We'll get out of town first. Then we'll focus on a safe place for us all to go."

"Jojo, would you. Would you go to your room, please?" Rosie asked, "I need to speak with the General, alone."

Just as the blonde boy was about to protest, he was cut off.

"Now. I also have to start preparing dinner."

He huffed and walked from the room, bounding up the stairs rather loudly.

You felt bad for the woman as you watched her grip the sides of the oven, bow her head, and give a great sigh.

"Where's Elsa?"

"She's in her hiding spot." Then she turned to face you. "Y/N, K know that Elsa isn't Inge."

"What?"

"She got Inge's birthday wrong, and he didn't say anything."

Your eye's wandered as you took in the information that was just given to you.

"Do you think he will say anything?"

"I don't know," you said with a shrug, "But I don't wanna take any chances. It's too risky."

"I agree." Rosie nodded once. "So, when do we leave."

"As soon as possible. Tonight if we can. Only pack the essentials. And not yet, we can't raise any suspicions."

Rosie's only reply and indication that she had heard you were a good few nods.

And then.

"What's in the basket?"

"Oh," you said chipperly, "Don't worry about cooking. I brought dinner."

***

Turns out "tonight" wasn't a viable option for skipping town, as with loud, almost deafening sirens of dread filled the sky came the air-raid strike.

"Wouldn't it give us a good cover, though?" Rosie had asked, preparing for bed.

You had resigned yourself to staying over, as a sort of bodyguard, while still in town. And the threat was still very much weighing in the winds.

You looked over your shoulder at her. Being spotted by her through the mirror of her vanity, where she sat. Removing her makeup and then applying some face cream.

"I'm not the only one by a window," you told her. Then moved to peer through the window, at the moving lights in the black, midnight sky. "I'm sure I heard Elsa and Jojo in the attic watching them."

"They are," she confirmed.

"See. We're not the only ones. Too many eyes. A good distraction," you admitted, "But almost impossible. And with two kids added to that? No chance."

A hum came from Rosie.

"So, what are our options?"

With a sigh, you began explaining, "People will be too jumpy tomorrow, so our best bet would be the day after."

The blonde, now ready for bed, came over to you. Moving to stand right in front of you, looking out the window herself.

"Wouldn't it be too risky, staying here that long?"

It seemed it was your turn to hum, shrugging your shoulders.

"I'd rather stay here a few more days than risk it out there. But there is a good side to these change of plans."

"And what's that?"

"Now, we can sneak stuff to the car. And won't risk being caught doing it all at night. That way, all we have to do is get in, then drive off."

"Good plan. Partner," Rosie spoke in a slight mocking about sultry tone. Which only made you roll your eyes good-naturedly.

"Yeah. Yeah. You're welcome."

"Seriously," you halted at Rosie's serious tone, raising your head to peer at her, "Thank you for everything."

"You don't have to thank me." Your lips ticked up in a small smile before you lightened the sober mood and atmosphere. "And you definitely won't be thanking me if I accidentally kick you in my sleep."

Rosie laughed at your words, watching as you said into bed beside her.

"Do not worry. If you kick me, I'll just kick you out of the bed."

"Now that's just rude."

Waking up the next morning was strange for you, to say the least.

With the bright sun shining through the thin drapes, across the cosy room, and onto the bed. Duvet lumpy above your forms.

And then there was Rosie.

The blonde pressed up against your side, head resting on your shoulder, arms curled around one of yours, still fast asleep.

Now that.

That was very unusual for you.

But then again. You were too sleepy to process anything at that moment. So instead, you just watched her breathe soothingly, looking so peaceful by your side, with your eyebrows furrowed and eyes squinted in curiosity.

It was a wonder how someone could look so contest face asleep like Rosie was, with everything that is going on in the world.

The world wouldn't be that way for much longer, you thought, it was only a matter of time before everything was over.

And the same thing could be said for the blonde sleeping by your side.

The wooden door barged open, alerting you fully awake, as Jojo strutted in. Only to stop dead in his tracks at the sight of you. In bed. With his mother.

You could see the slight anger in his eyes, purely out of protection for his beloved mother.

"Good morning, Jojo," Rosie said sleepily as she moved to sit up, looking at the boy with a sleepy smile.

You grunted as she pressed her palm into your abdomen to raise up into a seated position.

"What are they doing here?" he asked, nodding his head towards you.

Rosie looked over her shoulder at you, tired eyes evaluating you. Before she turned back to her son.

"There's something I forgot to tell you yesterday."

You watched the mother and child with slightly wide eyes, not uttering a word, just looking like you wanted to escape this situation.

"What did you forget?"

"The General here-" she patted your abdomen where her hand still resided. "-And I, are seeing each other."

It was a few good long moments as Jojo processed the words. You thought he was going to be angry. It would be natural. You would understand. He was a young boy, one who undoubtedly missed his father and would not be happy with his mother being with anyone else.

But you also had to understand that he idolised you, if only for your -albeit fake- position in the German military.

And yet, you were still surprised and confused by what he said next.

"A lion?"

Rosie smiled brightly, nodding her head, "A lion."

"A lion?"

That was the first thing you said that morning, and it was full of confusion.

But it fell on deaf ears.

Jojo nodded once at his mother before turning on his heel and walking from the room, without saying what he initially came in for.

"What?"

Rosie smiled at you.

"Come on, we should get moving."

The bed shook and bounced as she got up from the bed, preparing to get ready for the day.

"I'm so confused," you almost whimpered, only gaining a soft giggle in return.

***

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#original work #original fanfiction #rosie beltzer x reader #rosie betzler x reader #rosie betzler imagine #rosie betzler #jojo rabbit imagine #jojo rabbit

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loving-all-for-loki · 3 years

Note

i really love your writing sm. could I maybe request something with Loki and reader being slow to realize that the feeling is mutual? if you dont mind <3

A/N: Thank you so much! I’m glad you enjoy my writing, that makes me very happy to hear. I tried my best with this, I wasn’t really sure how to go about it, but I think I did a fun little twist to it. The italics are flashbacks. ALSO, you don’t need to know the song “Stuck In The Middle” to read this, but it will make this fic a little bit cuter if you do, so go stream it! It’s by Tai Verdes (actually just go listen to his whole album TV). I hope you enjoy this, nonnie.

Stuck In The Middle

Loki x reader

Word count: 2255

Warnings: fluff, maybe swearing I don't remember lol

Tony decided to throw another one of his giant parties, but no one is really sure why. There’s no holiday, no accomplishment to celebrate. All you know is that the tower is filled to the brim with high named people and well rounded faces. Music is blaring as people lounge around drinking or casually dancing. The Avengers are all around, scattered among the faces.

You on the other hand are leaning against a wall drinking some pop and trying to ignore the creepy men that hit on you. Parties are fine, you don’t mind them, but you don't go around gloating about your business or accomplishments. You watch Tony walk around getting praised by millionaires and celebrities with a smirk on your face. Shaking your head, you look down and give your glass of water more attention than the people.

“You really should get out there.”

Steve stands next to you with his little suit on that makes you laugh. You’re not used to seeing him all dressed up.

“I’m not a boaster. I’ll dance here and there, but conversation isn’t my forte.”

“You're having a conversation with me, so what does that say?” He laughs.

“I don’t need your technicalities, Cap,” you laugh as well.

“You don’t even have to talk to people you don’t know. We’re all here.”

“Fair enough.”

“Do you want me to stay here with you?”

“No, Steve. Go have fun.”

He smiles at you before returning to his seat at the bar by Bucky and Sam. You smile at the three of them. You do truly love your friends, even if they bother you during alone time.

“Why would you enjoy them if they bother you?”

“Loki, stop reading my mind.”

“I can’t. You’re quite loud,” he jokes.

You roll your eyes as you take another sip of your water.

“Do you not like these grand parties?” He asks.

“Eh, I don’t mind them. Just not a bragger.”

“Ah, yes. One night dedicated to gloating about your own accomplishments while putting down others.”

“No, that’s the Oscars,” you joke.

“Who is Oscar?”

“Never mind. Why you go out and dance? I bet you have some moves.”

“Not without a partner. I’m more of a partner dancer.”

“Well, there’s plenty of pretty girls around you to ask to dance.”

“Why dance with a pretty girl when I have the most beautiful one right here leaning against a wall and ignoring everyone? That’s more my style.”

“Loki, I’m flatter,” you laugh, “is this your way of asking me to dance?”

“Possibly. Thor has been bugging me to ‘get out there’ and I don’t like anyone here beside you.”

“Such a gentleman.”

Loki rolls his eyes as he takes your hand in his and leads you to the dance floor. The song changes into a fun chill song you recognize as “Stuck In The Middle”. You and Loki dance together as the two of you laugh. At some point, he pulls you into him, holding him at your chest.

“Remember when we first met?” He asks.

“Yeah, I do. You were arguing with Tony and Thor.”

“I want to return to Asgard and I will no matter what you say.”

“You’re a war criminal serving time here for your attacks. If you even attempted to go back, the American army would shoot you down.”

“And good luck to them.”

“My brother is a god, Man of Iron, do not forget.”

“Shut it, point break. You can try to leave if you want to die.”

Loki scoffs at Tony’s threat. As he goes to open his mouth, he sees a girl wander into the living area and scour the kitchen. The three watch her in silent and she opens every cabinet. Loki is curious by the girl with her long black hair and sweats on, clearing not caring about the argument happening. She finally turns around with her mouth filled with pretzels from shoving them in. She looks at the two gods and Tony with a wide eyed look, clearly asking “what” in her face and shrugging.

“Am I interrupting something?” She asks after swallowing.

Tony laughs and shakes his head, walking over to her and placing a hand on her shoulder.

“You’re fine, sweetheart. We’re just having a disagreement. Go enjoy your pretzels,” Tony chuckles.

Loki watches the way she submits to Tony and follows his lead, wondering who she is and why she listens to Tony without hesitation.

“I was so intrigued by you, this small little thing who looked so full of life. What happened to her?”

You laugh hard, “You got to know me, that’s what.”

Loki hadn’t seen the innocent girl in two weeks, wondering if she was even real. There had been some kind of glow to her so had he known better, he’d say she’s an angel.

Loki decided to coop himself up in the library while he was stuck on Midgard. Since he was stuck here, he thought he’d at least spend time doing something enjoyable. He’d spend hours in there until he had read every book and started to reread them. Then, as if the universe had heard him, the innocent girl had returned, putting a book away and getting a new one. She immediately walked out of the room and down to the tower’s elevator. Without hesitation, Loki got up and followed her at a quick pace, wanting to get in the elevator at the same time. As he walked in, they stood in silence next to each other and Loki realized he had no plan.

“I’m Loki. I don’t think we properly met.”

“Y/N.”

Loki feels his heart pound as she speaks to him with her heavenly tone. She sounds exactly like he thought she’d sound. It fits her so perfectly and he wants nothing more than to listen to her talk all day.

“I apologize for anything you heard the other day. Stark and I don’t see eye to eye.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she laughs, “He can strike a nerve sometimes.”

“That is an understatement,” Loki says, losing himself in his anger towards the billionaire.

You laugh at his comment which eases his anger. Loki is filled with joy knowing you find humor in his words, learning you’re not as stuck up as the other Midgardians.

“You read?”

“Yes, I love to.”

“What’s your favorite book?”

“Sense and Sensibility.”

“I don’t think I know that one.”

“It’s a Midgardian classic,” you say with some snark.

“I’ll have to read it. May I ask what you are doing for the rest of the day?”

The elevator opens and the two of you walk off, Loki still following you with awe.

“I’m going to spar with Steve for a little bit. You can join if you want.”

“I will not participate, but will not refuse to be of company.”

You smile at him as you walk towards the training room. Steve stands there getting ready and is surprised to see the stoic god behind you.

“Is he joining?”

“Just to watch.”

Loki sits down on the bench and leaves you to get changed and stretch. He can’t comprehend how something as sweet as you can be so willing to fight one of the super soldiers. He can’t even lie that he’s scared for you, but he’s soon proven wrong in seconds as you knock Steve down to the ground in a sweet kick. You and the super soldier go at it and you prove to be a worthy match for Steve. Loki is shocked by your swiftness and strength, clearly underestimating you.

“Well, I’m impressed.”

“I didn’t expect you to be as tough as you are.” “Wow, you underestimated me. I’m hurt, Loki,” you tease.

“I’ve learned to expect the unexpected with you.”

“How so?”

“I think we all remember your silly holiday ‘April fools’.”

April fools is one of your favorite holidays and now that the trickster god is living with you, all of the avengers are on high alert all day. No one realized he didn’t know about the special day, so Loki wondered why everyone seemed to ignore him more than usual. He walked into the living space to see you sitting on the couch with another book.

“Did I do something?” He asks.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m aware I’m not well liked, but it seems that I haven’t seen anyone all day except for you right now.”

“It’s because its’ April fools and they’re scared of you.”

A little ping of pride hits Loki.

“They’re scared of me? And what is April fools?”

“It’s a dumb holiday here where you prank people and they’re worried you’re going to pull something. After all, you are you.”

“You have a whole day dedicated to messing with people?”

“Yeah, usually it’s something simple like telling people you’re pregnant when you’re not or tying the spray nozzle on the sink together so everyone gets wet when they use it. Other people go big which is what they expected from you.”

“That doesn’t shock me,” he laughs.

“Yeah, I wanted to prank them, but I think they’ve left the building entirely.”

“You say we have the tower to the two of us?” Loki can think of a couple ways he’d spend alone time with you, but the idea of messing with the Avengers with your help is too tempting. He’ll have to put his other ideas to the side for the moment. “We can still do something.”

“Like what?”

“I’m not sure, but you could think of something, I’m sure.”

“We could glue everything down so you can use anything?”

“Like stick the together?”

“Exactly, but we could use your magic so we could reverse it later.”

“I like how you think.”

About two hours later, the Avengers return from wherever they had been throughout the day and run to their rooms to avoid Loki. As soon as they noticed the two of you relaxing on the couch, they tensed up and sprinted. You pretended to not have told Loki about anything and watched them get nervous, trying to hide your amusement.

It’s only minutes later when they all run back in yelling at you about how they can’t pick anything up or open drawers. Loki looks over to you among the chaos and smiles, seeing the wide proud smile across your face.

“That was a lot of fun. You surprised me in the past though, too.”

“Whatever do you mean?” He laughs.

You had gotten hurt on a mission and found yourself with a broken arm. Every day activities became 10x harder because you have to do it with your non-dominant hand and it’s started to get annoying. You’ve been attempting to make yourself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for about 25 minutes now. Loki walked in to see you struggling with peanut butter all over your hand and a glob on the bread. There’s a giant tear in the middle of the piece you’re spreading it on and a frown on your face.

“You look like you’re struggling.”

“Thank you, captain obvious!” You exclaim in an angry tone, glaring daggers at the god.

“Do you need some help?”

“I would love some because clearly, I’m having some difficulty.”

Loki comes over and helps you finish making your sandwich. You sit down to eat but because of your bad mood, you don’t even want it now. Loki notices your distress and shakes it head, waving his hand by.

“You’re healed, now eat your sandwich.”

You look at him in confusion until you realize your arm doesn’t hurt as much when you move it. You rip off your cast and feel around to feel how your arm is completely healed.

“Thank you!”

“You can be very sweet sometimes.”

“Don’t let Stark hear that, he’ll think I have mind controlled you.”

The Avengers all sit around the bar and watch you and Loki dance. They have a big smile on their face as they see you two have fun, laughing and talking. Thor has never seen his brother look so relaxed and joyful before, it’s refreshing to see him happy. Steve and Tony don’t miss the way you look at Loki, it’s filled with more love than any friends would look at each with.

“You think there’s more there?” Thor asks.

Steve and Tony turn to look at him with confused yet amused faces. “Thor, you really are an idiot,” Tony laughs.

The song comes up to the last chorus and you and Loki have stopped talking. He swings you around and holds his body next to yours. The music get’s both of your attention.

Cause we’re stuck in the middle of lover and friends

And we’re losing every part of the benefits

You’ve hurt me more than I ever knew

But it’s shitty because I’m doing the same to you

As the lyrics set in, you remember all the things Loki has done for you. Making your PB&J, recommending books, keeping you company when the Avengers are away, dancing with you at New Years parties, giving you a hug when you return from missions, and not leaving your side when you’re hurt. Loki thinks of all the things that made you bearable. Your sense of humor, the smile on your face when you see him, the way you’ll reread books you love, the way you make fun of others with him, and how you defend him when they make fun of him.

“I think I like you,” you both say.

#loki fluff #loki fanfic #loki fan fiction #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki #loki x reader fluff #loki layfeyson x reader #loki oneshot #marvel x reader

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hansols-yoda-boxers · 3 years

Note

I just discovered the cns au today but I love it so much 🥺 Not sure if you discussed it before since I’m still reading through stuff but — do you think the staff who are on their 1st year did some sort of a bonding activity tgt at some point? They seem to be a diverse group to say the least (lol) but I think someone could’ve tried to put them together and say it is a mandatory activity for the ‘newbies’ at camp??? (my heart says boo seungkwan but maybe you have another candidate for this lmao)

Lee Gahyeon x Lee Chan

I thought this was cute but it got really long oops. Chan gets kinda mean at one point. That’s the only thing I think needs a warning.

[10:02]

“Do we have to do this?” Gahyeon grumbled.

“Believe me, I’d much rather be hiking than here right now,” Chan scoffed.

“Yeah, I had plans today,” Yeosang said.

“Quiet,” Seungkwan warned. “This is fun. We’re going to have fun and get to know each other better.” He looked at Yeosang. “And no you didn’t. I know you didn’t.”

Yeosang crossed his arms over his chest, disgruntled.

“It really will be a good time,” Mingi said brightly. “You guys will have fun and get to know each other. It’s good to bond.”

Gahyeon shifted closer the Chaeyoung as she looked at the small group. Seungkwan and Mingi had insisted on collecting the new staff and spending the day doing... something. She wasn’t sure what. They had done ice breakers before, they didn’t need more trust falls and silly games to remember everyone’s name.

At present Chaeyoung and Yeosang looked bored. San looked sad. Chan was obviously ignoring her in the loudest way possible. And Jongho was just staring at his feet.

Sure. Fun.

“I’m not doing more trust falls,” Gahyeon said.

“Those were lame,” Yeosang chimed in.

“You are all so ungrateful,” Seungkwan sighed, pinching his nose and a hand on his hip. “We’re doing something fun for you.”

“Doubt it,” Chan mumbled. Seungkwan shot him a glare as Mingi started to talk.

“It’s not trust falls. We know you all know each others names and don’t need ice breakers. We want you to actually work together. Do you remember bingo night?” Mingi asked.

Chan stood a little taller, puffing out his chest. “Of course we do.”

“You’d think he’s a peacock the way he postures like that,” Gahyeon muttered to Chaeyoung, earning a giggle.

“He’s too full of himself,” She chuckled.

“Well,” Mingi continued. “We have a scavenger hunt for you. You will have to work together, all six of you for some things. But you also will spend most of the day with your partner. It’ll help you get to know them.”

Gahyeon looped her arm around Chaeyoung’s. “Perfect, I call Chaeyoung!”

“Oh no,” Seungkwan said. “We’ve already decided the partners. You just have to deal with it. Also, if you are the first or only pair to finish your list you win...” He pulled a bag of candies, chocolates, and some home baked cookies from his backpack. “...a prize!”

The whole group was much more invested seeing the prize. Even San and Jongho seemed much more interested.

“Alright, give us the lists,” Chan said impatiently.

“Last thing, you finish by 9 tonight and have to have proof of each item,” Seungkwan said. “And unlike bingo night this is pg.”

“Let us get started,” Yeosang said.

“Okay,” Mingi said brightly. “Jongho and San.”

The two looked at each other, Jongho seeming a little shy. They grabbed their sheet before pouring over it.

“Chaeyoung and Yeosang.”

“Wait,” Gahyeon said, feeling her stomach drop. “no.”

“Seungkwan, what the hell!?” Chan protested.

Gahyeon was sure Seungkwan was smirking at them. “Enjoy your day together,” he said, handing Chan the paper.

[12:15]

“Oh hey!” Gahyeon looked up, relieved to see the others approaching them. The last two hours had been snark and silence and it was driving her nuts.

“Perfect,” Gahyeon said. “Let’s do that pyramid.”

“Whatever,” Chan mumbled. Gahyeon threw him a glare. Why did he have to be difficult for no reason?

“Sounds good to me,” Jongho smiled. He seemed a little more comfortable now. “How should we do it?”

“I’ll be on the bottom,” Yeosang said. “I don’t mind. And you’re pretty strong, Jongho.”

“I’ll join then.” He said.

“I’m strong too,” Chan said quick. Gahyeon bit back her laugh. What did he have to prove so badly. “Gahyeon you’re pretty small, maybe you can be on top.”

“I- sure,” she mumbled, feeling a little flustered. Was that a compliment or an insult?

“Looks like you’re having fun.” As Chaeyoung and San climbed on the other three’s backs you looked up to see Minji coming closer.

“Can you take the picture?” Gahyeon asked.

“Of course,” she said. “It’s cute to see you all working together.”

“It’s painful,” Chan muttered.

Gahyeon climbed up to the top. “Chae, will you knee him in the back for me?” The whole pyramid giggled as Minji took a series of pictures, asking you all to smile for at least a few.

“I took a bunch,” She said. “Good luck with your day.”

“I feel like we need it,” Gahyeon mumbled.

[2:48]

“Okay, what’s next?” Gahyeon sighed.

“We’ve done a lot of it.” Chan looked at the list. “We can climb up on Cheol’s roof once the kids are in bed so they don’t see us.”

“Should we get the boring ones out of the way?” She suggested.

Chan groaned. “I don’t want to do them. The interviewing each other thing is dumb. What do I even need to know about you?”

“You think I want to do it?” She questioned, plopping down in the grass. “I didn’t ask for this. But I want to win.”

“Me too,” he said. “Otherwise I would have dipped. I don’t need to spend any more time with you than necessary.”

Gahyeon rolled her eyes, ignoring the slight sting of his comments. “Yeah, whatever, we can just do this then it’s done.”

“Sure,” he said, sitting down and grabbing a notepad from his bag. “Best moment at camp so far?”

“I don’t know,” She mumbled. “We put music on the first night the campers were here cuz one girl was sad. And we all just danced and jammed out. It was just fun and wholesome.”

“Cool,” Chan said flatly. Gahyeon felt frustration bubbling up inside her. He could at least pretend this didn’t suck for 5 minutes. “Worst moment so far? Should I just say this? Cuz I’m putting down it’s spending the day together.”

“No,” she said through gritted teeth. “Actually last night one of my campers got sick. I held her hair for an hour while she was throwing up and had to get Minji to call her mom.”

“Oh,” Chan said, his tone much more sincere. “That actually sucks.”

“Yeah, I know. I was there.” Gahyeon replied coldly.

“Uh-” He looked back at the questions. “What worried you most about coming to camp?”

“You know what,” Gahyeon said, crossed her arms over her stomach. “I’m doe with this. If we lose we lose.”

“Come on,” he whined. “I won’t say anything this time. I’ll just shut up and write.”

Gahyeon looked away from him, pulling her knees into her chest. “I don’t get along with people easily. I was worried I wouldn’t fit in and everyone would hate me.” She didn’t hear the sound of pencil on paper, instead of Chan placing the notebook down.

“I’m an ass, aren’t I.”

“Yeah, you are,” Gahyeon mumbled.

“I’m sorry. That probably doesn’t mean much.”

“Nope.”

She heard him writing. Then the notebook poked her leg. Gahyeon spared it a glance before taking it reluctantly. Chan didn’t meet her eyes as he passed it. She looked down and read his answers, realizing he’d written something else for the third question.

“You didn’t write what I said.” She said.

“It kinda felt like something you didn’t want everyone to know,” he shrugged. “I don’t think you wanted me to know.”

Gahyeon doodled a star on the page idly. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” he said. “You can take a turn asking some questions.”

Gahyeon nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

[8:40]

“Come on,” Gahyeon giggled, dragging Chan to the side of Seungcheol’s office. There was an antenna with a metal base that was easy to climb. “This is the last thing.”

“I’m coming,” he said. “We have time.”

“I like a good margin,” Gahyeon said. She rushed to the metal structure and started to climb. Chan let her go up first. The climb seemed easy but as the evening came dew was settling on things. Gahyeon felt her foot slip as she scrambled.

“Oh my god!” Gahyeon grabbed the metal as she screeched, managing to get a had hold as Chan caught her waist. “Be careful!” He scolded.

“I’m okay,” she said. Still, she climbed more slowly. Chan followed her up closely until they were both of the roof. He took a picture as Gahyeon sat down. He was quick to send it off to Seungkwan before settling beside her.

“Job well done,” he said.

“Looks like we can work together,” Gahyeon said. “Imagine what we could achieve.”

“But then, who’s my competition?” Chan questioned.

Gahyeon felt a smile tug at her lips. “True, it’s more fun that way. So long as you stop being an ass.”

He gave Gahyeon a sheepish grin. “I can do that. We can compete civilly.”

“Agreed.” Said Gahyeon. “But let’s start again tomorrow.”

“Sound good to me.”

#seventeen imagines #dreamcatcher imagines #ateez imagines #twice imagines #dino imagines #chan imagines #lee chan imagines #gahyeon imagines #lee gahyeon imagines #cns au #camp north star au #spin off #friendly competition

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dandelion-vines · 4 years

Note

im super thirsty for ANY non con w jaskier. if it suits you maybe a bridenapping a/b/o situation? geralt steals omega jaskier from his husband and breeds him against his will. verbal humil and physical abuse a plus ;3

somnophilia, noncon, painkink, manhandling, pregnancy kink, lactation kink, slapping, jaskier is a male omega, male omegas have breasts when theyre pregnant and they have cunts yay, cuntslapping because jaskier’s a painslut.

Geralt calls jaskier “boy” in this on occasion, but jaskier’s like 25, and geralt’s doing that because hes like what, 800?? Lol. also, pretty happy with how this turned out :)

“We’re waiting till marriage,” the omega says, eyes lovey dovey as he palms over his pregnant stomach. His neck is bare, bondbite missing as Jaskier explains exactly why. “I want it to be special,” he says, smiling at Chireadan, pressing a kiss to his lips. He smells mouthwatering; Geralt can smell the slick scent of his cunt— a constantly horny bitch, fat with pups. It’s all Geralt’s ever wanted, and he resolves himself to take it. He slips the sleeping powder into both the omega’s and the alpha’s waters.

It’s too easy, slipping into his chambers at night and stealing the omega away. It’s too easy, shoving his unconscious body onto Roach and riding over the border before dawn. What is really hard though, is keeping his hands off the unconscious omega. Geralt rubs over the swell of his stomach, feeling the pups kick against his hand. He slips a hand under the front of the omega’s trousers, dick twitching as he touches. The omega’s clit is hard, stiff with the arousal that comes with pregnancy, and he’s so wet that Geralt has half a mind to stop and plough him senseless. Not yet— not yet. Just a little longer till he’s up in the hills, back in the abandoned cave he occasionally stays during rainy days if he’s nearby. No one knows it's there, long-forgotten as vines and trees grew up and around it.

For the time being, he slows Roach into a trot, well past the border. The omega’s still unconscious, his head resting back against Geralt’s shoulder as Geralt touches. He thumbs over the omega’s labia, rubs at his clit. His breasts are full and plump, and Geralt’s forced to stifle a whimper as he pinches his nipples into a hard nub, feeling a droplet of milk bead at the nipple. Gods, it’s too fucking hot. Geralt fingers the omega, rubbing over his clit as he plays with his nipples. He can feel his walls twitch and clench, hears him sigh as Geralt fucks his fingers harder, curls them up— the omega gushes slick, body trembling as he cums— fuck. Geralt ruts against the small of his back, hungrily working the unconscious omega through his orgasm as Geralt tips over into his own.

It takes an hour after they reach the cave for the omega to wake, brilliant blue eyes blinking against the setting sun. Geralt watches his body as he sits up, the curve of his breasts slumping against the swell of his stomach has him dripping pre as he works his cock over. He looks around, and his eyes settle fearfully on Geralt. “Where are we?” Silly thing, Geralt wants to tell him, it doesn’t matter. The omega flinches, backing himself against a wall; one of his arms curve over his breasts, hiding his nipples, and the other attempts to reach his cunt to cover himself, only to be hindered by his pregnant stomach.

Fuck. Geralt’s going to ruin him.

The omega yelps as Geralt drags him forward by the hips, his back hitting the floor as Geralt straddles his thighs. “W— witcher?” His voice is all warbly, his fear makes the air coy and sweet. How adorable; Geralt finds himself donning a small smile as he pulls the omega’s legs a part, giving his sweet cunt a gentle slap. He fights, of course he does, fierce little thing he is. He scrambles, punches, and claws; it takes two moves for Geralt to flip him onto his stomach, his hands occupied with keeping himself so his body doesn’t rest on his baby, doesn’t harm it.

Geralt holds his hips down, one hand sliding up to his nipple and giving the milk-laden breast a gentle squeeze. A fat omega, all for himself; can’t believe his luck, really. He could do anything. Geralt twists harshly at a nipple, the omega bucking and arching in pain. Funnily enough, Geralt can scent pleasure in the air, smell the slick of his juices. “Oh, little omega likes a little pain, does he?” he rumbles. Geralt lets go of the omega’s hip, putting more force into pinching his nipple as he kneels between the omega’s legs, forcing him to spread his knees and spanks his cunt harder, faster.

The coy thing moans, his pleasure spinking. “Your sweet husband never did his for you, did he? Knocked you up and kept you unsatisfied,” the omega’s ply in his hands, whimpering as Geralt finally lets go over his nipple and turns him back onto his back, “what an awful alpha you had.” The omega parts his lips to snark, and Geralt draws his hand back, bringing it down hard enough on the omega’s cheek to whip his head and render him senseless. His face turns pink with the impact, lips parted in a silent gasp, eyes wide in silent shock.

He frowns. “Witcher, you’re—” Geralt slaps him again, enjoying the look on his face, the arousal in the air, the slickness of his cunt against the witcher’s knees. He pinches down the omega’s chest, twisting his nipples greedily and tugging and massaging at his breasts till they’re leaking milk. He’s so hard he might actually die, Geralt thinks.

“What a slutty little omega, I can’t wait to ruin you, turn you into what you were meant to be, little thing.” He slaps the omega’s breasts in harsh bursts, enjoying his moans as he arches. Geralt shoves his cock into his cunt with little preamble, the moaning omega trying to draw his legs close, cute thing. Geralt pinches the inside of his thighs sharply, slaps them till they’re red and bruising to push his legs to the side.

And then he fucks him, his massive hand wrapped around the omega’s wide neck. Geralt watches with greedy eyes as the omega’s body jerks underneath him, bits of milk pooling and dripping from his nipples, stomach jiggling in time with his thrusts. Geralt moans as he feels the omega’s cunt twitch around him, slaps him once, twice, and the little thing’s cumming, the witcher fucking and rubbing his clit to work him through it. It’s enough to pull Geralt over the edge, slamming his hips against the omega’s as he sinks his teeth into the omega’s neck, bonding them together. He collapses beside him, careful of the omega’s pregnant stomach, and boundless the limp boy close.

The omega sighs, his scent content as he cuddles into the warmth of Geralt’s pecks. Later, Geralt will clean them of the cum and the slick and the milk. For now, he holds his mate.

“What’s your name,” he mutters out at last.

The omega looks up at him, those eyes that the witcher so-adores half-lidded as Geralt soothingly rubs over his bump. He looks good, warm, comfortable and cared for. His face is a little pink, and Geralt will sooth it with healing cream later, the same for his cunt, but for now, he holds him and now-their child in a gentle embrace, close and cuddled.

“My name? Julian Alfred Pankratz,” he sighs out, “Jaskier.”

“Jaskier,” the name tastes right on Geralt’s tongue. “Omega. Mate.” Oh, he loves it, he’s never felt so whole.

Jaskier smiles, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Alpha. Mate.” And dozes off.

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swishandflickwit · 4 years

Text

my weary heart has come to rest in yours (i found my way home) — 1/1

Summary: "I don't get it," Katara purses her lips, befuddlement clear in the furrow of her brows as she turns to him. "You'd think the Fire Nation would know such an important detail about their own prince."

The Gaang wonders why the Fire Nation doesn't seem to know much about Zuko, like maybe where his scar should be? It opens up a lot of questions that they want answered. Zuko, on the other hand, just wants to sleep.

Rating: General Audiences

Words: 5.7k

Warnings: unbeta’d, zuko-centric, post-ember island players, pre-sozin's comet, zuko gets a hug (as he deserves), non-canon compliant (more like canon adjacent lol), ember island

AN: working title: obligatory the gaang finds out about zuko's scar fic // alt title: a pocket of happiness for my children

title from: Ride Home by Ben&Ben

Also on: ff.net | AO3

Other writing

The atmosphere amongst the occupants of the beach house is sullen and cross following their night out in the theater.

It isn’t lost on them that the edifice they have come to know as their solace belongs to the very monster man who brought upon their 'deaths'. The certainty that it had all been a fictionalized retelling was not enough to temper even the echo of the crowd’s rabid enthusiasm as they cheered the demise of the Avatar and his friends, nor erase the visceral image of the thespian Fire Lord standing before his adoring subjects—triumphant in his accomplishment of world domination.

They step through the threshold of the tyrant’s once home. The air grows thicker in acerbity.

Zuko wants to snark at them, I told you they’d butcher it. If he had been the person he was even a month ago perhaps he would have, but the words wither in his throat. The scene of him engulfed in Azula’s flames, however fake or fantasized, sears across his mind on relentless repeat so that it is more selfish entreaty than consideration that has him abstaining from permeating the burdensome silence with his signature brand of pessimism—realism.

Dinner is an equally stilted affair, the only sound to be heard is the clob of chopsticks against wooden bowls and the crackling of the campfire solemnly harmonizing with the occasional sigh of dejection.

This, however, does not last too long.

He supposes he should have seen it coming. This is the boy who offered his friendship at the slightest show of goodness from him. The Avatar is as buoyant in his movements as his element. Though Zuko has come to learn when it comes to his disposition, it is more alacrity than air that has him flitting from one emotion to another, ensuring he never dallies in his worries for too long.

So when Aang bellows, "That's it!" as he discards his bowl with a careless flick, the remains of his uneaten congee spilling carelessly across the cobblestones of the courtyard, Zuko doesn't so much as blink at his latest antics.

He is more surprised at Sokka's indignant huff seeing as it is the first sound he's made in the past two hours (which is subsequently also the quietest he's ever witnessed the other boy to be in all the time he's known him) since they've arrived.

"I would have eaten that," Sokka mutters irately.

(It is fitting however, that this should be the commentary to break his speechless strike.)

"I mean, what's the big deal? It was just a stupid play!” Aang exclaims emphatically, his voice cracking in his vehemence. “If anything, we should be laughing our butts off—that writer obviously didn't know what he was talking about!"

"Speak for yourself, Twinkletoes," Toph chuckles. "I happened to enjoy my portrayal. It was wrong, sure, but what did you expect from a patchwork of second-hand accounts combined with your regular sprinkling of Fire Nation propaganda? It was dumb, but that was the point. You all know the truth, don't you? Quit being such wet blankets about it already."

After having heard a similar iteration from Toph earlier, Zuko finds no offense from the jibe. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for the rest of his companions, save Aang—though even his propensity for optimism appears ready to float away on the next gust of wind.

"At least you were in the play," Suki offers, good-naturedly, if not a bit feebly.

"I think I'd rather just not be in it altogether, if it means I'd have to be depicted like—" Katara shudders before grumbling, as if there truly are no words for that disaster of a parody, "...that."

Zuko wholeheartedly seconds her sentiments.

"Toph's right though!" Aang blusters on, and it all seems rather void but he admires the kid's pluck. "In fact, I think we should all take this opportunity to look back on our adventures—"

Zuko groans. Frankly, he doesn't want to think too much about what it said about him that the Avatar's evasion tactics had relied mostly on improvisation and sheer, dumb luck than calculated military strategy and cunning.

"Or maybe we should just not."

"But Zuko," Aang turns big, round, pleading eyes at him. "Aren't you at least a little curious about what really happened? Not even Toph's heard about half of what we were up to before she joined up with us!"

"You were idiots then, and you're only just a little bit now," Toph snarks. "What else is there to know?"

"Toph," warns Katara just as Sokka sputters, "Hey!"

"It might be good for morale," Suki suggests gently. "I know I could use a pick-me-up."

Zuko gets along with Suki—at least, as well as he is able to get along with anyone. Still, he can't help but shoot her a betrayed glance following her pronouncement. Zuko just wants to sleep, but he should have known better. The minute he starts wanting things is usually the moment they float out of reach.

Suki smiles back unrepentantly, so he sighs in resignation and straps himself down for a long night of reliving his failures (again) and listening to their tales.

"I am a pretty gifted storyteller," Sokka puffs his chest then starts stroking oddly at his face, particularly the area at the sides of his mouth.

Okay? he ponders with a large heaping of confusion.

"That's the spirit, Sokka!" Aang exclaims, but before Sokka can thank him much less get a word in, Aang launches into the story of how the Water Tribe siblings actually found him. Unsurprisingly, it involves less tears—"By which Sokka means no tears!"—and an infuriated Katara and that, he can believe.

Zuko doesn't anticipate being spoken to for the rest of the night. At best, he is a mere purveyor of their communal fire. At worst, an engaged and enthusiastic reaction to the boys' avid narration will be expected of him. And as socially inept as he may be, he has enough tact to refrain from volunteering his side of the events. Even with the amends he's made, he hardly thinks it would encourage rapport to rhapsodize about a time they had been on separate sides at all, no matter how early it had been in their acquaintance. Zuko would (very much) like to retire at some point in the evening without having to worry about suffocating in his sleep.

(He hasn't had that concern for two weeks now, it was practically a new record.)

So imagine his surprise when the focus shifts to him. Toph, much to his mortification, recounts his outburst at being told by a child decked out in derisory Avatar robes (that had to be illegal, right?) that the scar on his 'Prince Zuko costume' was on the wrong side.

"I don't get it," Katara purses her lips, befuddlement clear in the furrow of her brows as she turns to him. "You'd think the Fire Nation would know such an important detail about their own prince."

"Yeah, Sparky." Toph stomps over from the opposite side of their circle to plop down beside him with all the grace of a landslide. "I didn't even know you had a scar until tonight!" She pokes aimlessly at his right cheek. "What gives?"

He stares at her agog before realizing she has no way of deciphering his countenance. So, he responds by addressing Katara's comment instead.

"I don't see why they would," he shrugs. "I'm sure by the time they heard, if they heard about it at all, I had long been banished."

"I'm confused," Aang rubs his head contemplatively. "If you're banished, what's with all the wanted posters? I thought being banished meant you had to stay away, but then they also want to imprison you? You're their prince, it doesn't make sense!"

"Come to think of it," Suki muses, "Why were you banished in the first place?"

"Hold up," Sokka did that thing where he stroked the sides of his face again—seriously, what was up with that?—"I've always wondered, how come you were branded a traitor way before you even joined us? Reading your poster wasn't exactly at the top of our to-do list."

Katara interjects with, "And what were you doing so far out in the South Pole that day we found Aang, anyway?" while Toph reminds him, "Plus, that still doesn't explain why your people don't seem to know anything about you or your scar."

A headache begins forming at his temples from the barrage of questions. He sighs in vexation before regarding Katara.

"Isn't it obvious? What did you think I was doing? I wasn't exactly sailing around for a vacation destination." Then lowly, somberly, at Toph, "And they haven't been my people," he rubs subconsciously at his marred flesh—mind flitting to that war room—always, always there—and to a whole division of loyal soldiers that in the end, he arrogantly assumed he could defend yet ultimately failed to protect. "Not for a long time."

There is silence in the wake of his disclosure, punctuated by the crackle of the tinder as it is disturbed by the gale gusting in from the beach, and an unnameable terseness that fills the air.

"Why—" he's not sure why he whispers, but it feels appropriate given their stricken expressions. "Why are you all looking at me like that?"

Suki ultimately is the one to brave breaking the taut stillness, staring at him with purpose.

"Zuko, when—who—" she stutters with what he speculates is an uncharacteristic timidity. That is until she gathers herself with a deep breath, the query crystallizing on her exhalation.

"How did you get your scar?"

It occurs to him, belatedly, that he may have said too much.

"I don't see how it matters," he retorts, hoping the curtness in his delivery puts an end to this inquisition.

But Zuko never did have much luck getting what he wanted.

(No, he broods with a bitterness he wishes he didn't harbor so much, Azula made sure of that.)

"We don't want to upset you—"

"So don't."

Undeterred, Katara finishes in tonalities as soothing as the morning tide, "But it helps to talk about things that might have hurt you."

Around him, the pressure builds. A deadly gas awaiting a fuse.

"Oh, 'it helps,' does it?" he snarls, rage thrumming like wildfire in his veins—igniting his body, and detonating through his next words. "And who exactly does it help, huh? You sure it's my best interests you have at heart? Or—I know! You wanna know my weaknesses, keep the big, bad fire bender on a leash!" He throws his head back, some facsimile of a laugh escaping his lips. "Unless, of course, you're just saying that to satisfy your insatiable need to mother everyone."

Boom.

"Please, I haven't had a mother in years," and he hates it, he hates how it is his voice now that breaks and his body wilts as the violent cloud of his fury dissipates—all the rancorous contention leaking out of him. "I don't need your ridicule or your pity. I've been fine on my own."

And this is the moment he loses everything, he is convinced. Because this is what Zuko does, and what he is best at. His fingers are but sieves from which good things slip. All of him is a razor blade destined to pierce any that would dare come close. He is downfall personified, he is a plague.

This is how it should be, he reasons, cut him now as they would a festering infection.

(As his father, his sister, his mother, would.)

For broken things beget broken things, and they deserve better than to have him bring ruin upon them all.

But then a hand—hands—ground him, keep him rooted, keep him still.

"Well then," Sokka avers, with his special brand of genial but no less poignant solemnity. "It's a good thing we aren't in the business of dishing out pity. Isn't that right, gang?" He clasps his right shoulder, the gesture teeming with meaning though Zuko is the last person to decode it.

"Ridicule, on the other hand…" Toph snickers. Katara sends her an affronted glare before realizing the futility of such an action. She sighs her discontent instead, before returning her attention to him.

"And you're not anymore," Katara says with an earnestness that confounds Zuko to discover is directed at him. "On your own, that is."

"I don't understand," and truly he doesn't. He knows it is not their way to spill blood (barring Katara's commimation during his early days in the Western Air Temple, which was more than fair), but this is the first he's lost his temper in front of them for no valid reason. His choleric speech had their bonfire flaring with every harsh and erratic breath he expelled, sure signs of his waning control. "Aren't you going to kick me out? At least put me in chains!"

Katara's hand joins Sokka's on his opposite side as she approaches him from behind. He has to crane his neck to ascertain her aghast mien. "For what? For being angry? For talking out of turn?"

(It always boils down to this, doesn't it? Agni, why couldn't he ever just keep his mouth shut for once in his miserable life?)

"I'm sorry," he mumbles, because he is and he doesn't know what the right thing to do or say is.

"I know," Katara smiles, but there is something desolate in the curl of her lips. "You always are," she sighs. "I'm sorry, too."

Her thumb brushes back and forth across the nape of his neck and he would have started at the unfamiliar touch if her apology hadn't already caught him off guard. In truth, this entire night has been an anomaly with how quickly they all have made his head spin in the last few minutes alone.

"You're sorry?" he gapes, genuine bafflement coloring his articulation. "Why?"

"For pushing you to talk about what I should have known was a sensitive topic." It's her turn to squeeze his shoulder. "I really am sorry."

"There's nothing to forgive," he stammers, for there honestly isn't. He's still trying to get over the fact he received an apology, let alone that anyone sought a dispension of forgiveness. From him.

"Katara's maternal instincts and overbearing need to talk about one's feelings can be annoying. Believe me, I know."

"Gee. Thanks, Toph," Katara deadpans.

"But she's right," Toph's roughened hands encircle his left forearm. Compared to the siblings, her grip is near painful, as if to dig in her point. "Bottling it up, burying your emotions… it'll only hurt you more."

"But it doesn't hurt," he insists, stubbornly ignoring the waver in his importunity as his palm spans the breadth of his ragged scar. "It doesn't."

"We're not talking about the hurt there," Katara grazes cool fingers from his back to his front, before placing it prostrate and precise. "We're talking about the one here."

Right atop his heart.

"The monks have a saying," Aang has since nestled on his knees in front of Zuko. Without him noticing, their entire circle has gotten closer so that he is at the center—warm bodies surrounding him from all sides, little planets orbiting the sun.

"Holding onto anger is a lot like holding onto hot coals that you mean to throw at someone else. In the end, you're the one who gets burned."

"What do you want from me?" he questions wearily though he knows the answer.

"Nothing," Katara assuages. "Nothing you aren't willing to give."

"And we know you're a fire bender, buddy, but don't you think a fire shared is a village warmed?" Sokka grins encouragingly before sobering. "Maybe you don't want to, but I think you may need this. You've got all this—this—pent-up frustration inside you. I can't believe we never noticed it before, it's practically oozing out of you! Like pus from a boil!"

Zuko grimaces. "Thanks, Sokka."

Unfazed, he goes on. "Don't tell me you've had someone to talk about this with. I can't imagine you and Azula sitting round a campfire having a heart-to-heart."

You'd be surprised, Zuko thinks, if that night of confessions at the beachside counted at all.

"There's still so much we don't know about you," Aang adds. "We just want to understand."

"But, why?" he blurts, frustration mounting again like a forest fire. He is desperate to fathom their persistence, to decipher the motives behind their inexplicably lambent eyes, their magnanimous looks and their delicate tones.

"Because we're your friends, Zuko," Suki murmurs while everyone makes their approval known one way or another. "Sharing burdens is kinda what we do."

Oh, he thinks dumbly, Oh.

"It doesn't make for a pleasant bedtime story," he states with an almost believable clinical detachment, steadfastly ignoring the pounding of his heart at her proclamation of friendship. "And it's heavy. This is a load I wouldn't wish on anyone."

"All the better," Katara chirps, settling with her knees aside behind him, "that there's five of us then, right?"

Perhaps it is the security found amongst the shadows of the eventide that loosens his tongue. Perhaps it is that Zuko is just too exhausted, figuring that the fastest way to reach his bed is to simply not argue. It might even be the contentment that Aang and Sokka's adage brings him, the closest taste of home he's had since his separation from the person whom he now knows, without question, he loves most in this world. Or maybe it is simply time , here, on this island, the ghost of dual timbres wisened with age—and it can help you understand yourselves—ringing in his ears. And so beneath a collective scrutiny of ingrained amity and determined tolerance and encouragement and just… goodness.

He begins his tale.

He speaks until his already hoarse voice grows even hoarser, the words clumsy and stilted on his tongue, unused as he is to telling his story—along with the extensive range of sensations that come with it, and the illimitable memories it incites within him, some sentimental while others he would rather forget altogether.

He speaks of a mother's love lending him both strength and weakness, of how it should have been enough yet still could never outweigh his longing for the love of a father who scorns him, of a sister he adored until she, too, eventually saw him as nothing more than a hindrance, then an enemy. He speaks of an uncle whose favor brought him places he knew he ought to be but secretly did not think he deserved, of advice dispensed wisely and discarded carelessly, of a compassion that flamed so bright within him a King saw it as too untamable to remain, and so he snuffed it out with a fiery hand to his face. He spoke of lonely years with nothing but sky and sea and the musings of an old man over tea as his only company, of a path he knew deep down had been aimless yet it was all he could hold on to because it was a reminder that he was still real.

"Three years," Suki mouths, devastation written so plainly upon her profile Zuko couldn't bear to look at her. "He had you chasing a ghost for three years."

"So… so what you said… about losing your honor?" Katara mutters wetly, and if that isn't evidence enough of her sorrow then surely, the unceasingly dampening spots between his shoulder blades are.

He winces at the flashback her inquest incites, shaking his head in internal, forlorn reproach. His shame galvanizes him enough to want to explicate his reasonings out loud, for if there is absolution to be found in his ramblings then all the more reason to try.

"For so long, I fooled myself into believing that finding the Avatar meant regaining my honor. It never occurred to me until recently that honor wasn't something that could be taken away from you. It's something you earn for yourself," he sighs despondently. "Some days though, it wasn't even about honor—I just wanted to go home. But more than anything, my father led me to believe that if I captured you then I would finally, finally have his approval—his love," he shakes his head before releasing a hollow chuckle. "What a stupid thought."

"No, no it wasn't stupid!" Toph exclaims. "It's a parent's job to love their kid. And even then it's not supposed to be conditional!"

"I can't believe he would—that he'd bur—" Aang cuts himself off with a jerk, as if the word, burn, is a most foul curse that would be invoked at the slightest whisp. Zuko doesn't dissuade him. There was a time when he felt the same way, too.

"His own son," Aang finishes dazedly, his face a river of tears, a torrent with no signs of abating.

"I'm sorry," Zuko tries again, a little alarmed now at the frequency of watery displays before him. "I didn't mean to make you sad. Oh," in his panic, he thumbs impetuously at the stray droplets coursing down the arch of Toph's cheeks. In this light, she looks exactly her age, so young and slight, yet so contrary to what he knows of the mighty and unflappable earth bender. A pang goes through his chest that he could ever be cause for her melancholy, for any of theirs. "Please don't cry."

"You first," Toph replies, inconceivably subdued and gentle as she reaches up to frame his face. Zuko holds his breath when he assumes she will palm at his scar, which she does. But there is no judgement there, only indubitable acceptance, and comfort, as she brushes roughly at the tears he didn't even know he's shed.

"Oh," he repeats, not for the first, and certainly not for the last, time tonight.

Suki sniffs. "He doesn’t deserve you."

Sokka abruptly declares in hard intonations, "I'm gonna kill him—"

Before he can completely swear his intent, the water in the fountain behind them solidifies into menacingly pointy shards while the earth underneath them trembles dangerously.

"Get in line," Katara hisses darkly at the same time Toph grunts, "Not if I get to him first!"

Sokka's eyes are red-rimmed and gleaming. Still, he announces with a fair amount of acid in his inflection, "I know how you feel about this Aang, but you better hold me back when the time comes cause if I get my hands on that crazy, stupid, son-of-a—"

Zuko lurches forward to cover Aang's ears.

"Sokka!"

It seems the contact is all the incentive Aang needs to throw his arms around Zuko. The fire bender isn't expecting the extra ninety pounds and for all four, gangly limbs to wrap around him like a pentapus so he has no choice but to fall back to accommodate the extra weight, his head landing on Katara's lap as Aang does his utmost to actually meld himself onto his body.

"Slothdog pile?" Toph asks unnecessarily and with a gargantuan amount of glee that the shift in mood gives him whiplash. "No way I'm not getting in on this!"

Toph burrows her head onto his hip, knocking Aang's leg aside as she commandeers Zuko's own left leg like a body pillow. It appears to be all the permission everyone else has been seeking as well, for like dominoes they begin falling into place around him. Katara tucks his head a little more securely on her thigh before leaning her upper body against the lip of the fountain at her back while Suki lists against Sokka who leans his head onto Zuko's right shoulder.

"What—what's happening right now?" he doesn't want to appear too scandalized but he is at a loss for what to do with his limbs, outstretched as they are on either side of him. The Royal family didn't do touch, much less hug. The gesture became even more scarce when his mother… when she was gone, and though his uncle was a lot more free with his affections, it still hadn't warranted familiarity. His muscles contract at the overwhelming amount of contact.

"I wouldn't think too hard." Above him, there are traces of moisture on her visage but Katara chuckles, fond and ebullient now, much to his relief. "Just go with the flow."

"Says the water bender to the fire bender," he bites back weakly, which only fuels Katara's amusement.

Aang fastens his hold around the prince's torso, and he tenses even more.

"You know your dad's wrong, right, Zuko?"

"About what?" he quips sarcastically, but is surprised by the ardency in their antiphon.

"About everything," Aang counters fiercely. "Like, yeah, you chased us all over the world but you never aimed to kill!"

With his lineage it feels like a low bar but he nods his acknowledgement and his gratitude.

"You didn't save me from the pirates, but you kept them from… touching me," her tone is as algid as the glaciers of her homeland, but the rattle of Katara's bones is so prominent that he shakes along with her. "It could have gone a lot worse."

"I wouldn't do you that dishonor," he whispers brokenly, sick at the scenarios he can so acutely guess is conquering her imagination, it's own horrific play dancing along her features.

"I know," she reciprocates, just as gravely, "I know that now."

"You kept your promise. You could have come back, razed our village—"

"And mine," Suki joins Sokka.

"But you didn't."

He frowns. "Those days, my word was the only currency I had that was worth trading."

He doesn't like how they make it—him—sound. Every decent deed he had fulfilled in pursuit of the Avatar was done so as a courtesy mostly to himself. If he was to regain his honor, he had to act with as much honor as his, admittedly dastardly-to-begin-with, mission could provide. Now, Zuko isn't exactly an authority—even on his good days—on altruism but he could at least recognize that in those moments, any clemency administered had been the right thing to do.

"Anyone would have done the same," he defends faintly, then immediately wishes he could take it back when Katara growls.

"No, Zuko," she clenches quivering fingers around the ubiquitous pendant adorning her neck. "No, they wouldn't."

"It's more than that, though," Aang asserts imploringly. "It's just you. It's so obvious, how did we ever not see it before now? It's who you are," he takes a deep breath, the wisdom of a thousand others before him laying siege in his every movement, every syllable. "And who you are is the most honorable guy we know."

He does a double-take.

"You… you really think that?" He shakes his head in frantic incredulity, blood roaring like a storm through his veins. "All of you?"

He looks at each of them in bewilderment—lingers especially on Aang, at the roundness of his cheeks that should be testament to his naiveté yet so contrary to the maturity shadowing his bearing—as if he can divine their rationale through sight alone. He doubts them, and it makes him feel older than sixteen, his cynicism a pallium shackled to his shoulders. But there is a chorus of devout agreeance, Aang's hope a living, tangible thing that he gives to Zuko freely. He fumbles. He doesn't trust the fervor with which it sets him aglow (metaphorically and physically, it would seem, as Sokka comments mildly, "Wow, you're like a heated blanket with how warm you are. Hey, why didn't we think of doing this before?"), but Zuko—even with his infinite skepticism—cannot find it in his fractured heart to reject it.

"Zuko?" Aang prompts, raising his head so he can catch his eye, gray and gold colliding in an affable display of security. "You believe us, don't you?"

"Yeah," Zuko reassures, albeit timorously. He takes a bracing, meditative breath before releasing it, sinking into the downy cosset of their affections as he turns his head to Katara's stomach, lowers his arms to clutch Suki and Sokka closer, bundles Aang on his chest with his heated breath, and secures Toph to his side with a hand to her back. Then, stronger, "Yeah, I guess I do."

When he decided to share his tumultuous past, he thought that he might shatter and they would rejoice at the gravity of his turmoil. But he should have known better than to assume his friends—and how marvelous a notion, to think that he of all people would have a group he is honored to name as such his own—will let him. He knows Suki had called themselves so earlier, but he doesn't quite believe it. Not until now.

"We won't let him touch you again."

It is said through a yawn as one by one, they nod off, until only Zuko and Katara are left to drift close to the edge of lethargy. She strokes tenderly at his hair, so reminiscent of his mother that he feels a familiar burning in his eyes and a lump at the back of his throat once more, all from the simple motion—or so he tells himself.

"Sleep, Zuko," she sweeps away the strands at his forehead before impressing upon it a tender kiss. "No one will hurt you. Not anymore, not ever."

Zuko can take care of himself. The way he's brought up, he's had to. Beyond that, they are at the very front lines of a war—any day, any second, could mean the last for them and they would have no way of knowing until it is upon them, so Katara's asseveration should not have brought him the relief it did. If anything, he should have denied it with the same dose of pessimism realism he approaches most everything in his life.

But perhaps, just this once, he will allow himself the privilege of their refuge. He will allow himself to believe in the vehemency of their promise.

I just wanted to go home, he had said. And this is not a place he pictured himself ever being in, trivialized to a mere furnace, yet strangely he finds he does not mind it (not that he would ever divulge this forthright), not even a little bit. The struggle and strife of his history, of his present, are unchanged, but an effervescence envelops him in spite of the five bodies weighing him down.

Maybe even because of them.

He closes his eyes when Katara has another go at running her fingers through his hair. He can almost conjure the ghost of his mother's smile when she used to employ the same tactics to lull him to slumber. He thinks of his uncle, mistifying and genteel and terrifying and loving all at once, sitting vigil at his bedside when fever and delirium took him during those early days of recovery, and long after then, whether or not he admitted to his desire for him to stay. He compares this house and everything it represents—a relic to his family's happiness—to this strangely colorful and caring mismatch of a rugged group that someway, somehow, just manages to fit perfectly into his arms. He tightens his embrace, and it suddenly hits him.

He supposes home was something he could carry with him all along.

"Sleep," Katara hums.

And so he does.

-//////-

Later, much later, when the power from the comet has receded to the faintest of throbs, and his sister is sedated and heavily guarded while his father is in chains at the bottom of the most isolated prison in the Fire Nation, their fates to be decided in the coming weeks by a tribunal composed of the remaining leaders from all nations—when he retires to his room in lieu of that of the Fire Lord's (despite the mantle and all it entails, both the sordid and the noble, falling solely onto his shoulders), and he sports yet another scar, a burn, that he will bear just as proudly as the first and more fiercely than even his eminent title, for there was no higher honor than protecting a friend—when his uncle has resumed his seat, snoring soundly and deservedly on an armchair at the side of his vast four-poster, always at his side as if they had never parted for even one second, and he is sandwiched between his two most favorite twelve-year olds in the world, Toph as unmindful of his injury as one would expect her to be when she plants her sleep-dead body right atop his chest, and Aang entirely all too much, curled into a ball that hardly breaches his space, apart from his head as he dozes lightly on his shoulder—when Sokka and Suki are passed out at the foot of his bed, his leg a pillow for their weary heads and their bodies as tangled onto each other despite Sokka's own bandaged leg (like the kindred souls he knows them to be, like magnets helpless against each other's pull), and Katara has expelled the last of her curative waters on him, much to his insistence that he doesn't need it any longer, before she sinks into the only unoccupied space above him on his bed—when they lie there in the first quiet they've achieved since they all adjourned here, their heads touching and their breathing in sync—he opens his eyes.

"You did it, Zuko," Katara's voice is a susurrant trill tinged with exaltation and pride. "You're home."

As he does then, he does again now, and tightens his hold—a hand to steady Aang's lolling head, another at Toph's back to still her fitful body, his leg pushing to burrow the blanket further into Suki's side, and the fireplace flaring with his breath to heat the figures he cannot reach. The difference in this embrace, however, is in the absence of doubt and the lack of fear, replaced with all the affluence of his adoration—unhindered and abounding.

"Yeah."

It is his turn to press a kiss onto her forehead, lips moving tired but no less grateful and indulgent.

Cradled in the warmth of everyone he loves and cares about, he is quite inclined to agree.

"I am home."

-//////-

AN: "Holding on to anger is like grasping on hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets hurt." —Buddha

i feel like you aren't part of the atla fandom and the zuko nation until you crank out one of these lmao. listen, listen, the beach gets cold at night so i just always picture these kids a pile of tired, sleeping limbs at the end of every day and all huddling into the only free source of heat, no fire required. let me live in this world.

come say hi to me!

#atla #atla fanfiction #the gaang #zuko #zuko fanfiction #honestly this is v self-indulgent fluff #the gaang deserves all the love & downtime #cuz they are just chiLDREN #zuko gets a much deserved hug #zuko + the gaang #altho honestly i think my water tribe sibling bias is showing lol #also zuko has a lot of repressed big brother instincts #so let him be a big brother!!#let him hug it out!!#i will die on this hill #yes i will #swishandflickwit ff

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boymeetsweevil · 6 years

Text

For science 1/7 - (NSFW)

Grouping: Reader x Nerd!Jungkook

Word Count: 6.1k

Warnings/Themes: masturbation (vaginal) & voyeurism, unrequited feelings, eventual sex. is this crack yet? lol there’s a plot i swear.

Summary: Jungkook asks you to let him watch you get off. For science.

A/N: posting this now because I’ve been working on it on and off for like a month and im tired of looking at it and jk’s bday is coming up HAPPY BIRTHDAY JK and i’ll be too busy with school plus im almost 7k into the second chapter so..

part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7

Your eyes burn in protest as you scroll to the top of your terminal window once more to search for the error that is fucking your code up. It’s been hours of work and you still haven’t managed to get your program to run even though the homework assignment is easy in theory. In fact it’s just like a problem that Jungkook said the professors would probably give you in your sophomore year, and here you are in your junior year seeing such an ‘easy’ question. With him, it had truly been easy, though. Jungkook was a better computer science teacher than any professor you’d ever encountered. Thinking back to early high school days has you smiling softly to yourself.

You miss sitting closely together, heads sometimes touching, as you both bent over a problem while he explained why it looked hard, but was actually something you could do in your sleep. The wide smile he would give you when you completed competition questions in minimal time would always set your heart fluttering.

Your phone vibrating brings you back to reality. The caller ID reads ~JK~ and you swoop in to answer the call. If the time in the corner of your computer is right (and it is) he should have already opened his decision letter from the PhD department.

“Hey, what’s the verdict,” you ask as soon as you accept the call. You know there’s no other reason why he’d call you when you were supposed to meet up in a few hours for weekly game night.

“I got in,” his voice is soft, but you know him well enough to be able to hear the joy mixed in.

“Congratulations, Kook! That’s amazing, I knew you would get in, they’d be crazy not to accept you. Oh my god, we should celebrate.”

“Yeah, I was thinking maybe we could go out for drinks before heading back to mine to play tonight. You in?” Now you can practically hear the smile in his voice.

“Of course I’m in. Let me just pack up and I can meet you. Where are you--the department lounge? I’ll come over.”

“Actually,” his shy tone has you sitting down slowly, returning your jacket to where you had it slung over the back of your chair. “You don’t have to leave right away. I was gonna try and call Yoori. You know, to tell her the news. And then tell Tae and Hobi, of course.”

“Oh. Yeah, no, that makes total sense. I should probably finish this code for Choi’s class anyway. It’s due on Sunday, but I’m almost done. Might as well turn it in early once I find this error.” Your hand scrapes at the sides of your jeans, looking for something to grab at.

“Well then I guess I have time,” he chuckles, “Your typos are always so tiny that they take hours to find. Let’s meet up at the bar in 2 hours then?”

You wince. Although it’s not at all a mean-spirited jab, you’re no longer in the mood for the friendly banter at the mention of Yoori, Jungkook’s long time unrequited love.

“Sure. See you then,” you hang up before he has the chance to say goodbye formally like he always insists on doing.

You put your phone down and berate yourself for getting distracted. If you were the brilliant Yoori, you wouldn’t have even made the typo in the first place. But you weren’t Yoori because you didn’t have the fortune of being born four years earlier and four times more beautiful, elegant, or intelligent. And you didn’t have the luck of being so much of a genius that you could skip years ahead of school like Jungkook either. So instead you would just have to chug along, always watching Jungkook chase Yoori.

You go back to scrolling through your code only to find the error a third of the way down. Jungkook was right, the typo was tiny--a misplaced equals sign. You sigh and run the code to make sure it’s perfect this time, and when it is you send it in to your professor to be graded. You consider heading home and using the extra time to make yourself look nice. Not that there was anything wrong with your oversized university t-shirt and jeans, but suddenly you think maybe things would be different for you with regards to your love life if you tried a little harder. You’re about to leave the library entrance that’s closest to your dorm, but you get a text from Jungkook.

6:41 - I called Yoori and she said she heard about my deal with RealiCorp and she wants to link up when she gets back on campus!

You narrow your eyes at the text. Jungkook had recently sold some software he developed to an up and coming gaming company that was supposed to make the imaging on immersion headsets better. He had made a pretty penny and was covertly offered a position at the company, but it was also a large victory for the computer science department at the university and his picture had been circulating around the department website for weeks. You suppose she finally saw it while she was taking a break from her research project off campus and decided to answer his calls for a change.

You text back what you hope sounds like a cheerful congratulation and decide to just go to the bar instead. What’s the harm in a few rounds before the rest of the crew arrives?

The harm would have been miniscule at most if you hadn’t been in your feelings, but when Jungkook, Tae, and Hobi arrive, you’re three rounds in and a little bit sloppy.

“Woah,” Hobi shouts, giving you a too strong pat on the back when he sits in the chair next to you. “Someone started a little early. What’s the occasion, are we celebrating something for you too?” Jungkook shakes his head with a sheepish smile and goes to sit beside you, away from Hoseok.

“Nope. Just getting ready for an evening with your loud ass.” He gives you a pretend pout and flags the bartender over. Tae sits next to him and gives you a little wave and smile.

“Two whiskeys, make mine a sour and make his straight. From the high shelf.”

“Hey now,” Taehyung’s eyes widen comically, “Are you forgetting that payday isn’t until next week? I’ll take the regular whiskey down there, please.”

“Don’t worry. Kookie said he was paying with his RealiCorp money,” Hoseok stage whispers into your ear, “He’ll probably cover your round too.” You swat him away and turn to Jungkook, raising a questioning eyebrow.

“You know I’ll cover yours. The rest of them, I don’t know.”

“What? Come on, you’re the youngest,” Tae whines, less than satisfied with his cheap whiskey shot.

“Shouldn’t that mean you guys pay for me?”

“N-no! Because you’re actually our senior now. You’re graduating this year, I’m the oldest technically but I’m not graduating until next year. We know these two aren’t graduating until the year after that,” he points to you and Tae, “Plus, you’re going to the PhD program next year. You should definitely be paying for us.” Hoseok has a point, you and Tae nod sagely to back him up.

“Fine,” Jungkook sighs, pushing his thick glasses up the bridge of his nose, “I’m in a good mood, so why not.”

“I bet you are,” Tae’s grin is big and catlike in the low light of the bar. His gaze a little lewd. “I would be too if I was one step closer to finally bagging a girl like Yoori.”

You look down into your beer bottle, the green glass suddenly much more fascinating than the conversation at hand.

“Did you hear,”Hoseok turns toward you,”Yoori is gonna come back soon and when she does he’s gonna make her Mrs. Jeon.”

“I’ll be sure to throw rice during the wedding,” you snark. The bartender brings you a new beer without another word. Taehyung howls at your comment.

“I’d kill to have a wedding night with her.”

“Hell, I’d kill to have a bathroom stall night. With anyone,” Hoseok sighs, “It’s hard out here for a comp-sci major. Right, guys?”

You hum in agreement. It had been a while since you’d last gotten laid.

“You’re right. I can’t even remember that geology minor’s face. Do you remember her? What was her name? Mara? Kara?”

“Sara,” Hoseok provides with a grin, “I think she has a thing for comp-sci majors. Kook, you ever hook up with Sara?”

Jungkook shyly traces a finger around the rim of his empty vodka class. “I haven’t hooked up with anyone.”

“Ever?” You try to keep incredulity from bleeding into your question.

“Ever,” he nods. He hiccups a little and all of the sudden you totally believe that Jungkook is a virgin.

“Dude, wait, I thought you hooked up with that one chick at the music festival last spring. Am I the only one who saw her?”

Tae nods in agreement. “Yeah, she gave you her hotel room key and everything.”

“It wasn’t like that. She told me her brother was there for a robotics tournament and I asked her if I could see the bot.”

You smile despite your sour mood. If there was one thing you loved about Jungkook it was his blind enthusiasm for STEM. Even if it made him a little oblivious to other things at times.

“Well, you better fix that whole virgin thing fast, bro. Chicks like Yoori probably want someone with experience. In more ways than one, if you catch my drift.” Hoseok nudges Tae with a wry smile.

“That’s not just a Yoori thing, most people don’t want to have to coddle someone in bed unless that’s, like, their kink or something,” you take a large swallow of beer.

“Wait,” Tae says, eyeing you like he’s had an epiphany, “You’re a girl--”

“Didn’t we establish this 2 years ago? When we met?”

“No, no, I mean you can help Kookie so he doesn’t drop the ball with Yoori.”

“Yeah, right,” you snort, “Help him how? Give him a sex-ed lecture?” You turn to laugh with Jungkook, but he’s looking at you seriously. Or as seriously as he can when he’s tipsy with unfocused eyes and blushing cheeks.

“You…don’t want to help me?” His voice sounds pathetic and small, making you feel bad instantly.

“Oh, Kook, it’s not that I don’t want to help you. But think about what that implies.”

“Is it because I’m a virgin?”

“Oh my god, Kook, there’s nothing wrong with being a virgin don’t listen to us. We’re idiots.”

“Then why don’t you want to help me?”

Because I like you. You swallow hard, your throat suddenly dry. You obviously don’t say that, though. Instead you sit back in your bar stool.

“I-I would if I could, but I don’t know how to help you,” you finally say.

“It’s fine. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I guess the thought of being with Yoori makes me a little stupid.”

Desperately you search for a solution. Instead of finding one, you call the bartender back and order a round of tequila shots. Jungkook gives you a sad look but doesn’t ruin the mood by not taking a shot. You order two more rounds because somehow, even though he’s drunk, he still looks dejected. After your third shot you can’t stand the way his shoulder slump.

“You know what,” you slur loudly, drawing three pairs of eyes to your face lazily. “It’s getting late and we might not get to play Fortnite this weekend. Let’s all get to bed so we can be up early tomorrow to play.”

Tae points a wobbly finger in your direction, eyes suspicious. “When you say early, you mean after 2pm right?”

It takes twenty minutes for everyone to get their shit together enough to leave the bar. Tae and Hoseok keep losing each other in the bathroom. Jungkook keeps forgetting that he has to pay and tries to ask the bartender what he thinks about sub-atomic particle physics. Even though you’re drunk off your ass, you somehow manage to keep yourself responsible enough to wrangle Tae and Hobi out of the bathroom and guide Jungkook through the motions of swiping his card and signing the bill. The four of you then squeeze into the back of an uber. Hoseok whines about being lonely while sitting in the passenger’s seat. Jungkook’s bumps his hand against yours until he can firmly grasp it and get your attention before you pass out.

“Hey, can I sleep on the couch,” he whispers in your ear. His breath smells like alcohol and limes. You turn your head to chase the scent away and rest your head on his shoulder. You yawn.

“Sure. No problem, buddy.”

Your apartment is the first stop on the route and you launch yourself out the car and run up through your lobby and to the elevator to escape the cold of the air conditioner and the fluorescent lights. Jungkook lingers in the car until Tae pushes him out to make room for Hoseok.

“Kook,” Tae calls out as he helps Hoseok pour himself into the back seat.

“Wassap?”

“The only way to get good at sex is losta—lotta...lot’s a practish. Okay?”

“But-but…Who am I gonna practice with?”

Tae merely whistles and points a finger upward, gesturing to your illuminated window. The car pulls away and Jungkook sways unsteadily up onto the sidewalk with nausea clawing at his throat. Thinking of the stairs he’ll have to climb—because there’s no way in hell he’s taking the elevator, even in this state—he regrets not just going to his own first floor dorm. Does he really need to get sex counseling from you? There’s always porn, he muses before remembering the rant you’d gone on blaming porn for making a guy you’d been hooking up with try to do weird things in bed involving a summer squash. Looks like he’d have to rely on the real deal to get anywhere with Yoori. Oh, Yoori.

A shimmering vision of the beautiful girl with elegant eyes and an ever-painted smile floats in front of his hazy vision and gives him the strength he needs to hobble forward towards the lobby door with dedication.

Minutes ago you couldn’t wait to go to sleep, but as soon you unlocked your door and made it to your room, you were wide awake. Even brushing your teeth and stripping out of your jeans didn’t to tire you out.

“Fuck,” you groan. You throw yourself onto your bed and hope that the way the room spins will lull you to sleep but when the spinning stops, your eyes still won’t stay closed.

The clock resting on your desk across the room reads 1:48am. It’s already clear that you’re going to be hung over, but knowing that it won’t be cushioned by a nice long sleep before you have to go to yoga at 12 makes you want to cry. You desperately wrack your brain for all the remedies there are to make you sleepy. You just canceled your cable last week to save some money, so you can’t veg out in front of the TV. You’re lactose intolerant, so warm milk isn’t an option. You’d take a warm shower but you washed your hair already and if you go to bed with wet hair your mother’s voice will haunt you all night with stories of the cold coming your way. Kicking your feet in frustration, you toss yourself over the edge of the bed to hang. Maybe all the blood will flow to your head and you’ll pass out.

You’re about to risk passing out and landing on your neck the wrong way and dying when a bright pink shoebox under your bed catches your eye. Of course, you think, how could you forget your precious vibrator. Luckily for you, a good orgasm or three always managed to knock you out like a light. You reach over and scoot the box forward with your outstretched fingertips until you get it close enough to reach inside and grab the petite tiffany blue bullet. Giddy laughter leaves your mouth as you heft yourself back onto your bed and fall back on the pillows with a contented sigh. Orgasms solve all your problems. You flick the device on to the lowest setting and ghost it against your clothed mound.

Jungkook is completely breathless as he leaves the center stairwell and finally arrives on your floor. The stairs were a bitch and a half, but your door is only two down from the floor entrance. He can practically hear the siren song of your pull-out couch. When he turns the knob to your front door, it doesn’t budge and he wonders if you must have locked it on instinct. There’s no way you forgot that he was staying over, he thinks to himself. Reaching above the doorjamb, he hunts for the spare key you left there especially for him. The door unlocks easily and he smiles to himself as he locks the door behind him and toes off his shoes. He’s about to face plant into the couch when you call his name faintly from your bedroom.

As he stumbles through the hallway slowly to your room, he thinks over what Taehyung said to him before driving off. To Jungkook’s drunk mind it makes sense, so it must be a good idea to seek sex practice from you. You’re the only girl he knows and he’s known you so long that he can already tell there would be no awkwardness. The sad look in your eyes as you listened to his predicament in the bar tells him that you want to help him, but you didn’t know what route to take. He flexes his hands by his sides and figures he’ll just tell you what Taehyung told him and get to coming up with a curriculum.

The door to your bedroom is half-open and the lights shine through the opening, so he figures you must be up and waiting for him. He can still hear you calling his name, but it still sounds oddly soft from where he is. He pushes the door open but freezes in his tracks when he sees you.

The first thing he notices is obviously the frantically moving hand you have between your legs and the loud buzzing sound that comes from it. He takes in more details the longer he looks. He realizes belatedly then that you’re not wearing pants. Thanks to the high prescription strength of his glasses, he can also see the way your hand and thighs shine and the huge dark spot in the crotch of your panties in the light of your table lamp. Your toes are curling and he can just make out the way your lower stomach clenches underneath the very same sweatshirt you’d been wearing to the bar. Technically he can’t see your other hand but he has a pretty good idea of where it is and what it might be doing with the way it disappears under your shirt. You can’t see him, though, because your head is thrown back and your eyes are closed. The only thing you’re probably at least partly aware of is the cacophony of wet sounds that come from where you work the nose of the toy over yourself. The last thing he notices is the way you call his name in a soft whining tone that has him stepping forward without thinking.

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you whine as the slippery heel of your hand bumps against your covered clit a little roughly on an upstroke.

“Yes?”

“What the hell,” your eyes snap open and your head whips around to see him leaning on the door frame as he watches you.

His eyes are heavy with alcohol and his cheeks are just as pink as the lip he releases from the grasp of his teeth. He reaches out and stumbles forward, causing you to scramble back to distance yourself from him. You bring your knees up to hug to your chest before you realize that you’re still very much on show.

“Jeon Jungkook, what is going on here,” you shriek, bringing your hands to cover your eyes only makes you feel a little bit better.

He sits down on your bed like it’s any other day and he’s just chilling in the room like you invited him over. And then you realize that you did kind of invite him over as fragmented memories of the recent uber ride you took together spring up.

“You said you wanted to help me, but you didn’t know how. But Tae told me I just have to practish.”

“Practish?”

“Practice,” he corrects himself.

“Practice what?”

“Practice sex. Duh!”

“Jungkook, no!”

“Please? I wouldn’t be asking such a huge favor if I didn’t think it was absolutely necessary.”

“Why can’t you just go to a frat party like everyone else?”

Your heart is beating rapidly and you think maybe you’re not drunk anymore. Never in your life did you think you would turn down sex from Jungkook, but then again you never pictured it happening this way.

“Because I,” his head hangs and he starts to pick at a loose thread in your duvet, “I guess I missed out on this kind of thing when we were younger and I don’t think I could get very good results in a basement party. Plus, I know you’d…”

“I’d what?”

“You’d be good to me.” He lifts his eyes to lock with yours. His gaze is oddly sharp despite the fact that his skin is still clammy like it gets when he drinks.

Your breath hitches and for a moment it does feel like the fantasies you have almost every other time that you settle into your room, lonely and horny. Jungkook laughs bitterly to himself and you can feel your resolve crumbling as something selfish rears its head in the back of your mind. He tries one last time.

“Please?”

You crack.

“Okay.”

“Really?” His eyes light up once more as he gives you a blinding smile. “Great. Let’s start!”

It feels as though you’re having an out of body experience as you watch him clamber closer onto the bed with you. Your legs naturally open to accommodate him and he scoots into your space, his hands falling to naturally stroke with the soft skin of your ankles. Even though he lacks experience, Jungkook has a leg up in that he’s naturally on the affectionate side. Something you can’t teach with any amount of practice. Even still, the idea that Jungkook will be sitting between your naked thighs makes your stomach do flip flops.You barely start formulating something to say that will sound educational when you hear him get ready to interject once more.

“God, what is it?” You worry that if he interrupts you one more time you’ll lose your nerve.

“I need a visual aid. And, uh, I won’t be able to see because of your, uh, undergarments.”

You’re certain that you’ve never taken anything off faster than you do in that moment. The panties fly into some far corner of your room and you can only hope that they don’t land in a clump of dust bunnies.

“Alright,” you stutter, “I don’t have to give you an anatomy lesson, right? Please tell me you at least know where everything is.”

“We took anatomy together in 7th grade,” he says like that’s a decent answer.

You roll your eyes. “Right, okay. Anatomy lesson it is.”

“What’s this,” you point at yourself.

“That’s the uh…entrance to the vagina?”

“Ok and?”

“It’s where the pleasure comes from?”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes?”

“Partial credit.”

“Isn’t that where the…phallus goes, though?” You decide it would be best to ignore his word choice for now.

“Yeah, I mean stuff goes in there but that’s not where all the pleasure comes from. For some people that’s not where any of it comes from.”

His eyes widen nervously. “Then where does it come from if not from penetration?”

You gesture again. “This is the clitoris.” His sweaty bangs flop over his lenses as he nods enthusiastically. Finally something he remembers.

“The clitoris,” he chirps affirmatively. You side eye him, but keep going.

“This little thing is basically there for the sole purpose of pleasure.”

“How do I activate it?” Again you blink at his terminology. Although you’d been a STEM freak with Jungkook for years, somehow he managed to baffle you with his nerdiness.

“Uh, you can stimulate it by touching it.” You draw a small circle in the air around the nub to demonstrate. “Like that, for example. You can also use your hands or your mouth.”

“Or that little blue thing you were using earlier,” he chimes in, reminding you of the embarrassing way this whole thing started.

You sigh. “Yeah. That too.”

“And that’s it?”

“No that’s definitely not it. We haven’t even touched the other places of pleasure or technique or foreplay. But this is a pretty good cheat code.”

“So what about the inside? Like the tubes?”

“There’s really not that much you need to know involving the actual reproductive organs themselves. We can just focus on the external bits for now.” You wince at how uncomfortable the discussion is.

“That makes sense,” his brows furrow seriously. He’s slow to blink, partly so he doesn’t miss anything and partly because he’s still fighting off tendrils of sleep.

“I mean,” you wring your hands anxiously, “that’s all you really need to know for now. It’s mostly learning on the go, anyway. You’ll be fine.”

“But what if I’m not fine. Don’t you think you could, you know, show me?”

“What is there to show?”

“How about you just continue…what you were doing when I came in.”

“Masturbating.”

“What?”

“I was masturbating when you came in.”

A hand flies to the collar of his shirt and he tugs on it sheepishly. “Yeah, that’s what I meant.”

You try not to focus on how weirdly awkward the mood is now that your lust has calmed down to barely even a simmer. You reach for the discarded vibrator that jumped out of your hand and landed by the edge of the head of your bed, but he stops you with a raised hand.

“Can you, uh, maybe do it the old-fashioned way? For the first time at least?”

“Right, I guess I’ll get to it.”

Jungkook sits back on his heels patiently and watches closely as your hand trails a path down your torso to the apex of your thighs. The first touch, though you know it’s your own hand, has you twitching a bit. You bite your lip hard to focus and circle your entrance to coax out more moisture, then you move back to circle your clit. You close your eyes in hopes that not being able to see Jungkook’s gaping expression will help. It does, a bit. After a few moments, you let out a breathy sigh and sink further into the pillows. You plant one foot more firmly on the mattress to give yourself some leverage and push yourself more into your circling hand. The slight increase in pressure has you moaning and your eyes fluttering. You peek through heavy lids to see Jungkook’s expression has also changed. His eyes, clear just a second ago, look glassy again from behind his lenses, his mouth slack and shiny. The rise and fall of his chest is a bit heavier. You let yourself think it’s because of you and go back to collect more arousal to increase the slip.

Apparently, you’re more turned on than you thought. When your middle and ring fingers wander down to your hole they come back pleasantly slick. Something in you suddenly feels rebellious, so you use your free hand to spread your lips further and bring your coated fingers up to Jungkook’s face. You flex your fingers and separate them to show crystalline streaks of arousal connecting them.

“Just so you know, this is a good sign.”

Jungkook swallows hard. Somehow, even though you’re still wearing socks and a baggy sweatshirt, you’re hotter than all the completely bare, busty women he’d watched moan and writhe wildly on his computer screen. He reaches out and delicately grabs you wrist before redirecting your hand back to your dripping center.

“Keep going,” he rasps.

You whine and begin to rub your clit more earnestly, lewd wet sounds fill the room. He can practically see your lips getting wetter and wetter as you redistribute your arousal with every rough swipe of your fingers. Your wrist is moving fast, but it’s clear that you’re becoming frustrated with all that you can do with one hand. Your other hand quickly moves to take over making tight figure eights around your clit while the one already coated in your juices moves back down to your entrance once more. This time, you crook two shining fingers and shove them into your hole. Immediately your back bends and a drawn out moan leaves your mouth. Jungkook gasps quietly. You pump your fingers in and out roughly, then withdraw them to add a third finger.

He watches you like that for a while before you get fed up again. It’s been a while since you’ve been so needy and you feel like you’re on fire. Your toes curl impatiently on either side of Jungkook and he realizes you’re looking for more. On instinct he scoots further until his own legs are brushing up against the undersides of yours. His hand reaches out to pet your quivering thigh in a sympathetic effort to help with your plateau. He looks down at your hand, twitching feverishly in and out of yourself. His hands are much bigger and suddenly he moves like he’s about to replace your fingers with his own.

When Jungkook’s hands start to approach your center your breath hitches. You’re not quite in the right state of mind to reject him if he offers to finger you, but you don’t want to take advantage of the situation and make it any more emotionally complicated than it already is.

“Not yet,” you offer when his hands get too close for comfort, “Next time, maybe.”

He seems to be thinking the same thing and averts his attention to the forgotten vibrator. His grip on your thigh disappears, and you sigh quietly, but it’s hidden under the slick sounds you make each time your fingers get sucked into your heat and the low moans you make every time your pinch your clit just so.

“W-what do I do?” His voice is small and his sudden worried look has you wrapping a hand around his and bringing it to show him how you click the toy on and circle it around your entrance.

His hands are sweaty, shaky, so when your hips start to circle on their own, they move to find a resting spot on your thighs and squeeze to deal with the tension rising in his own belly. He grits his teeth, clenches his hands, does anything he can to keep from overstepping and making this about him. As obviously cliché as it sounds, seeing you sweating and moaning underneath him lets him see you in a new light. You’d always been around, but your presence as a woman in his life was backgrounded at best. Now, with Yoori momentarily not clouding his mind, he wants nothing more than to ravage you. He’s almost certain that if he tried, his lack of experience wouldn’t matter too much. He’s sure his body would be able to act on baser instinct and give you the what you wanted. If you wanted.

Your moans change in pitch and soon he’s aware that this will be the first time he’ll have been privy to someone else’s orgasm in real life. His dick is painfully hard and straining against the jeans he’s wearing. But he forgets the discomfort fast as he watches you grind yourself down against the toy in a way that is absolutely filthy. Your bottom lip, shiny and reddened, is pulled taut between your teeth in ecstasy. Your eyes flutter open and lock with his own. You focus and notice his blown-out pupils look huge within the depths of deep brown irises. There’s no denying he’s turned on once you flick your gaze down to his crotch and see the large tent in his pants.

“I—I think I’m gonna…Oh!” Your leg kicks out on its own like some electric current runs through you. Your voice breaks as the waves of your approaching high begin to take over you. One of his hands inches upwards a bit and strokes the tense muscle near your groin softly, at a loss for words. “Oh god, Jungkook, you—” keening, your eyes roll into the back of your head.

One of your hands reaches up to squeeze at his bicep as he’s leaning over you. He wonders in the back of his mind when he got so close to you. Your leg hooks around him like it has a mind of it’s own and tugs him down, forcing him to topple over you. That’s the last straw and you sob from the intense pleasure. Meanwhile your warmth and proximity and your words prove to be a deadly combination and within seconds he’s spilling over himself in his boxers, untouched. He lets out a low groan that puffs against the side of your neck.

You both sit there and breathe for a long while, catching your breath and coming back down to earth. He sits up eventually and pulls away from you, leaving you cold. Your legs flop from around him heavily. You’re a bit irritated when you realize you won’t be able to walk normally for a while. He discretely wipes his hands off on your duvet while you wipe at the sweat soaking your hairline.

“That’s it, that’s the show,” you finally say.

He shoots up and looks at you anxiously. It’s cute. “You mean until next time, right?”

His eyes are wide and imploring as he hovers over by you. He looks a bit like a turtle from this angle. A cute one, though. One that you want to play with again next week. You nod even though he might have all that he needs to do well with Yoori, being the fast learner that he is.

“I guess so. Same time, next week. Do some research for next time maybe. Make sure it’s from something not involving the medical library.”

“Got it!” He turns and waits until you’re not looking to adjust his pants.

You notice his hair is sticking to his forehead when he finally stands up. And there’s a cowlick sticking up in the back that reminds you of middle school Jungkook, before he met Yoori. The idea of the other girl, the girl he’s really in love with, dims your post-coital glow. Although, you suppose you have her to thank for this evening’s events. How else could you have ever managed a one-sided romp in the sheets with your long-time crush?

Both of you take turns using the bathroom to clean up. While he hums in time with washing up, you slip panties on and debate about whether or not to throw your sweats back on. You decide that if you’re going to play this off like it hasn’t changed your relationship, you should put pants back on.He comes out looking pink and clean and you want to pull him back into your bed and wrap yourself around him.

To protect his glasses from the dangers of the bathroom, he left them in your room. Squinting, he walks with hands out to collect them. When he puts them on he doesn’t look at you and instead pulls his phone out of his pocket and swipes around while leaving the room.

“Heading out,” you ask with a quasi-disinterested tone.

“Yeah, I remembered I have to run the Saturday tutoring session this week. So I might as well go home so I can get ready for that. You should come, you know. Your test scores dropped 2 points this week.” Typical Jungkook. He couldn’t ever fully leave TA mode.

You roll your eyes. “Thanks for the reminder, but that’s still an A.”

“Maybe we can try this again next week the same time?”

“Yeah, uh, okay.”

“Cool, I’ll put it on my calendar.” He lifts his phone to his face to tell the digital assistant to pencil you in for next week. You try not to grimace at becoming a date in his calendar app.

“Get out already, you nerd.” You push him out after he puts his coat back on, but you do watch out the window to make sure his taxi comes.

#btssmutclub #bangtan bookclub #networkbangtan #bttnetwork #btswriters #bts smut #bangtan fanfic #bangtan imagines #bangtan scenario #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts imagines #jungkook imagine #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenario

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elejah-wonderland · 6 years

Text

Always/11

Fanfiction

Part 11

Elijah Mikaelson x reader/Elena Gilbert

ft. Klaroline

AU TVD/TO story

a/n: and so another story is wrapping up. I thought I write an extra happy chapter for all the characters. They all suffered a lot in this story.

Thanks so much for reading. I really hope you have enjoyed it. xoxo

Spring is in the air and I feel all romantic. LOL

warning: fluff and the Mikaelson family happiness

tags @rissyrapp20 @dendrite-lover @cassienoble2000 @captainshurley @goddessofthunder112 @elejahforever @idkhaylijah @hides2000

__________________

A month later

Elijah and Y/N/E laid in bed looking at the first baby scan-

"Tiny little fusion of you and me"- Y/N/E said.

"Our little sweetheart"- Elijah said.

"I feel happy - and maybe it's crazy to think this way but I feel like him or her we lost sent us this baby"- -Y/N/E said tearing up.

"Him or her will always be in our hearts'- Elijah said.

"Yes, always, now dancing with the angels."- Y/N/E said then turning to Elijah looking at him seriously-

"Last night- I went through one of my drawers in the walk-in and found this key"

Y/N/E got up and now showed Elijah the unusual key.

"This is from a deposit box"- Elijah said.

"Do I have a deposit box? Probably, ha? Can't remember. You know that still have bits missing in my head"- Y/N/E continued-"but why would I keep it in a drawer full of sports socks? Completely at the back of it?"

"I really don't know"- Elijah then said-"it really doesn't makes sense-"

"We can find out, can't we?"- Y/N/E said.

"Of course. I will get one of my friends tell me what bank it is"- Elijah took the key.

"Ok. Do that first thing tomorrow, now kiss me - us- and let's get some sleep. Rebekah is coming over and we are going through the whole ideas she has done for the vows-renewal ceremony"

"Good luck"- Elijah joked a little bit.

"I know."- Y/N/E smiled kissing him.

Flashback

A week or so previously

Rebekah met Y/N/E for lunch

"Elijah told me that you two are renewing your vows. How come I didn't get this from you?"- Rebekah shot at Y/N/E as she sat down at the table.

"Because- ahm- we don't want anything big- just family"- Y/N/E to be diplomatic and cursed Elijah a tiny little bit for having slipped it to his sister.

"Oh no. Last time you eloped. This time you have to give us a bit more."

"Ok. Semi-big then, but really just family and closest friends. Deal?"- Y/N/E said.

"Hm-"- Rebekah let out and she knew that Y/N/E made sense-" we have a deal!"

"Anyway you'll get to have a grand thing yourself"- Y/N/E then said.

"What? Me? Please, like that is ever going to happen-"- Rebekah sighed a bit.

"I thought that things between Stefan and you are really going good."

"They are- but we are like thousand years from a proposal. Not everyone is like you and Elijah."

"I've seen the way he looks at you. He is a keeper"- Y/N/E said.

"Really- he looks at me dreamy?"- Rebekah asked as if she was a fifteen year old girl not really sure if her boyfriend was that into her.

"Duh"- Y/N/E replied.

"You're not just telling me to make me feel better"- Rebekah carried on with her insecurities. She was only like that when love was the topic.

"Please! I am serious about stuff like that. Now, show me what you got."

"Right."- Rebekah said filled with special energy-"you have got to have a designer dress. Here are some suggestions. Don't look at me like that. It will be three months after you give birth. You will fit in easily with all the yoga you are doing and healthy food you're eating" **** After Kol was released from the hospital, he and Sophie moved in with his father and mother, as he still had not recovered fully. Everyone was proud of his decision even though they have scolded him a bit since it was a dangerous thing. Jeremy's killers were charged and they had enough evidence to put them away for a long time. Mikael and Esther, as well as the others were ecstatic to find out that there was another Mikaelson baby on the way.

The Mikaelsons had officially invited the Gilberts to a dinner to something that resembled a miniture peace conference that had Y/N/E and Elijah as mediators and the uniting force with a little help of their now joint therapist Camille. Another huge revelation came a day before the dinner as Miranda needed Y/N/E to know that she was her and Greyson's adoptive child. Camille found that Y/N/E had the strength to face all and it was important as the process of putting the past where it belonged.

"We don't know who your father was."- Miranda said-"I couldn't get pregnant and so we decided to adopt. The only thing we knew was that your mother was a sixteen year old girl, who was a runaway."

Y/N/E would lie if she said that it didn't matter, but with Elijah by her side and Camille's excellent guidance, she had all the support to process everything. And she poured a lot of her 'processing stuff' into her art, which was also a great theraputic vessel.

She had also changed the location of her attelier. Only a block away from their home, an celler apartment was transformed into her attelier. As Elijah asked what it was going to be she only said that she was inspired by Alice's adventures.

*** The last puzzle to solve was the key of a deposit box.

Flashback

A few days before Jeremy's death

Y/N/E rang Jeremy to come to her house to talk. It was her zillionth attempt to get through him even though she knew that she might not succeed. She prepared lunch for them.

"Hey sis, something really smells good, but will it taste good"- Jeremy snarked a bit as he got in.

"Stuffed tomatoes- the way you like them"- Y/N/E replied.

"Right. What is this about?"- Jeremy asked as they got in the kitchen.

"Does it have to be about anything? I haven't seen you properly in ages. I thought I'd see you at mom and dad's anniversary party- but you bailed. Mom was really sad"

"Please- with all those hypocrites hanging about I really was not in the mood. I got them a present and saw them two days after - and no biggy"- Jeremy said.

"But still. Anyway, I need to finish the sauce. Can you pass the wine - the south- american merlot."

"Ok. I need to swing to the bathroom"- Jeremy said, got the wine and went out the kitchen. But, before the bathroom he went to Y/N/E’s walk-in wardrobe and hid the key in the drawer.

At the bank as they finally found out what deposit box it was for, they also found out it was Jeremy's. After getting the approval to open the deposit box they found large amounts of money.

Y/N/E looked at it as if hypnotized, at first not saying anything. Elijah was fuming inside of him, but had to keep his cool as he didn't want to upset Y/N/E further.

"You know - huh- I can't believe it. Why? Huh- why was he like that? We have done nothing but love him. He had everything. Good education. A good beginning. And he just didn't care about anything or anyone"- and Y/N/E threw the box full of the dirty money up in the air, and the dollar bills flew all over the place.

Elijah jumped immediately down to her as she was sitting in the chair gently taking her by the arms- "Darling, look at me."

Y/N/E was crying-" Why?"- she muttered.

"There is no plausible answer. Some people get consumed with the darkness and - just can't get out of it - unfortunately. "

Y/N/E knew it. She tried to understand it so many times and had always hit the dead end. Elijah gave her a comforting hug.

At home Y/N/E wrote in her diary-

"Walking through Wonderland sometimes feels like you will get squashed by a giant pumpkin or open a door and slip into abyss and think you will never stop falling and hit something hard, but then you have a cat appear out of the woods bandiging your wound. There are days of colorful charades and dreamy Balls or at the turn of the clock they become a place of the darkest horror as everyone turns into zombies or leeching vampires. And then the clock strikes twelve and a prince grabs your hand or in my case a very handsome viking and kisses me like noone before making my heart accelerate to cloud eleven. Why eleven, I don't know. But I bet there is cloud eleven. Just like magic I am flying free.

And no matter what the weather we can do it better, with you and me together forever and ever... with clear heart and courage. Always."

××× In the weeks tha followed Y/N/E had her first exhibition after the accident, She called it Walking through Wonderland.

__________

Three months later

"Rebekah, can you please pick the cake up and take to the penthouse. I am still at the gallery. I've just spoken to him and he is mad that he had to stay longer at work."- Y/N/E said to her sister-in-law.

"I can't believe we made my father in on the whole surprise party thing. So, Elijah still thinks we are just meeting for drinks?"- Rebekah said.

"Yeah. I will then call him and say that I need picking up from the house. "- Y/N/E said-"I got to go- see you there in an hour."

Flashback

Couple of weeks ago

Rebekah met Y/N/E in her studio- "What's so urgent? Don't tell me you scraping the whole thing- cos I will not let you. The designer dresses are ordered"

"I called you about something else"- Y/N/E said-"I want to do something special for Elijah's birthday. He doesn't want anything particular. But I want to do something a little bit particular. It is his 40th."

"You want to do a surprise party!"- Rebekah said.

"Yeah, let's. He has been so wonderful throughout it all. I want to make it memorable. Let's do his favourite food, his favourite everything, music, cheese-cake."

"You-"- Rebekah added.

Y/N/E chuckled a bit to the comment-"so, will you help me?"

"What are you talking about, of course, I will help you, duh! My company just won best party organizers of the decade!"

"I know, but you got so much work plus Stefan"- Y/N/E said.

"Talk about Stefan, I need to cancel our trip to New Orleans"

"Why? Not because of this? Don't."

"He will understand. I am helping a pregnant woman."- Rebekah said.

"No. This is your week away with a guy that you will marry- don't. I will manage."

"What do you mean - marry? Do you know something?"

"Oh, shoot"- Y/N/E said spoiling the surprise Stefan had installed for Rebekah.

"He is going to propose?"- Rebekah was out of her breath.

"Well, Bonnie heard him talk to Damon about - how you're the one!"- Y/N/E tried to wriggle her way out of it.

"But that doesn't mean he is going to propose? It's mad anyway, we've been together three months! This can't be right!"

"It is!"- Y/N/E said-"ok, Bonnie said he got a ring. So, don't go spoiling it. And act surprised."

Y/N/E finally caved in.

"Really?"- Rebekah was completely taken.

"Promise to be surprised"- Y/N/E said.

Days that followed, Rebekah was exercising patience, but it was the hardest thing to do. She even succumbed to look into the chest of drawers one night she stayed over at Stefan's while he was in the shower. but she didn't find it.

A day before the trip as she had breakfast with Y/N/E and Elijah, her brother asked her why she was on edge joking -

"Taking a whole week of work- how will you survive?"

"It's not that."- Rebekah blasted.

Elijah was surprised at her explosive reaction -" Am I missing something here? You are going on a romantic get-away and it's like you're going for torture?"

Rebekah sighed now telling him about Stefan's probable proposal.

"Oh?"- Elijah looked at Y/N/E who nodded and then told him how the whole probable thing came about.

"And you're a wreck cos you don't want to marry him?"- Elijah was confused.

"I do. I just can't wait for the thing happening- the proposal, I mean. And what if he doesn't do it there. You shouldn't have told me"- Rebekah said getting up-"got to go. Later-"

Rebekah left and Elijah remarked- "I've never seen her so stressed- and this is supposed to be about a good thing?"

"She is really in love with him. And yeah, I shouldn't have told her anything. It just slipped. Bonnie and I just talked and we got to the topic of true love and how she and Damon started off bickering when they met in college and turned to be OTL and Stefan could not find anyone, going from one relationship to another, just like Rebekah."

"I am glad for Rebekah. Yeah, she is really in love. Acting like a teenager. What's OTL?"- Elijah now asked .

"One true love"- Elena explained-"you're my OTL"- she came around the hub to him and kissed him. "You're my OTL, too"- Elijah said caressing her hair as he now kissed her back.

And Stefan did propose. Rebekah was bursting with happiness sending a photo to everyone in the family.

___

Y/N/E got to the apartment carrying a little box. Everyone had already been there. Except for Elijah and his father.

As she got to the living room, she saw Rebekah telling everyone where they should stand.

Y/N/E greeted her guests putting her present on the sideboard.

Rebekah now turned to her-

"Ah, you're here. Ok. Will you go and change? I will help you. Father just called and they will soon be on their way"- Rebekah said to Y/N/E, who nodded and they went up to her walk-in together.

As she had a quick shower and changed, she made a call to Elijah.

"Hey, baby-" -Y/N/E said-"I just got in, and I need to change. Could you please come and get me. I don't really want to get a taxi"

Elijah would never refuse her, especially now that she was pregnant. And so they were on their way to the apartment.

To make the ruse complete, Mikael said he would wait for them in the car.

Elijah went up and got into the apartment.

"Y/N/E?"- he called putting his bag on the chair and heard her say -"living room"

Elijah walked in and everyone shouted -"Happy birthday" - together with Y/N/E, who walked over to him smiling happily.

He was taken aback just looking at everyone wide-eyed. Mikael was there then as well.

"Happy birthday!"- Y/N/E said once again.

"Wow- I- "

Rebekah now passed on a glass of champagne to him and a non-alcoholic cocktail to Sophie and Y/N/E then let her take center stage.

Y/N/E now stood in front of Elijah, her gleaming eyes looking at him, watering a little-

"Elijah - my love - you have been there for all of us at one time or the other and you have been giving and giving and we wanted- I wanted you to know that you are so appreciated and loved- so just wanted to do something special - to always remember"

They all raised a glass to him.

"What can I say- thank you- so much. This is great- really is"

Y/N/E then gave him the gift. He unwrapped it and there was a watch with the engraving

He embraced her dearly and kissed her.

Then there was cake cutting, buffet, more cocktails, music and dance.

I can hear her heartbeat for a thousand miles And the heavens open every time she smiles When I come to her That's where I belong

She gives me love love love Crazy love

_____________

Time passed by, as it does, and they all continued with their lives in a positive way, never to forget the difficulties of the past supporting one another as best as they could.

This whole ordeal Y/N/E, Elijah, Kol went through made them appreciate so much more what they had, the people that were around them, old friends and new, especially their loved ones.

"So, what are you doing today?"- Elijah asked his wife as he brought the breakfast at the terrace where Y/N/E tried to make herself comfortable on the lounge sofa. She was now in her ninth month and her delivery date was just a few days ahead. Sophie was no better. Kol was as much as Elijah, a dotting father-to-be, fulfilling any craving Sophie had.

"Rebekah, Sophie, Bonnie and Caroline are coming over for late lunch and the double baby shower. There is nothing much I can do. My feet are swollen, my back hurts, I am big as a whale. I need a distraction."

"I thought you will not do the baby shower till after the baby comes-"- Elijah said helping Y/N/E sit more comfortably.

"I need something happening- so I told Rebekah yes to the baby shower and only the six of us. We will make a huge party for both our and Kolphie’s baby after."- Y/N/E explained.

"You are really getting into the party thing-"- Elijah remarked.

"Yeah- after everything we've all been through- why not? Why shouldn't we party? Let's celebrate life"

"You're right"- Elijah said smiling at her and now offered to give her a foot massage.

"Oh, thank you"- Y/N/E said happily-"I knew now why I married you"

"Now you know?"- Elijah teased her a little.

"You are the best foot massager in the world"- Y/N/E said-"I mean- it is your hands that are just -oh- this soo gooood"

Elijah was happy seeing her relaxing. His soul whispered a little thanks to the Universe for giving him precious moments like these, moments that at one time he thought would might never be.

"Did I tell you lately how happy I am?"- Elijah then said.

"No. But you don't have to tell me"- Y/N/E said-"I see it. Feel it"

"Well, I think I should say it anyway. "

"Of course, you should. We deserve a little happy"- Y/N/E remarked.

"We do, don't we?"

The way he said underlined a little bit of scared to be really happy and Y/N/E now reached to him with stretching his hand out to him to come closer to her.

Elijah immediately moved to assist her as he thought she needed him to help her get up or something and she pulled him towards her pouting a little, which meant she wanted a kiss. And he kissed her dearly.

"It will all be fine"- she said to him-" we deserve more than just a little happy."

He nodded and now kissed her again.

"Anyone home?"- they heard Rebekah shout out all of a sudden.

They both moved as if they were caught in an inappropriate moment with Elijah shouting back that they are up on the terrace.

"She has to return the key"- Elijah then said and Y/N/E nodded saying in a whisper- "You will tell her!"

Elijah made a face like can you not do it?- and Y/N/E shook her head saying in a very low voice- "You will have to- "

What it was they both felt like they would be hurting her feelings, as Rebekah has been there for both of them whenever they needed her and she had this exclusive right to come and go as she pleased.

"Hi. Ok. I know I am early, but I got here with all the stuff ready and well, wanted to sit down with you, too for a little chat."

Both Y/N/E and Elijah knew that there was some kind of drama coming out and they were not wrong-

"Right. I will say it - Stefan has asked me to move in with him"

"And that is bad because?"- Elijah reacted immediately.

Rebekah now sighed-"It is bad because- well- I love my place- and- you know-"- Rebekah now looked at Y/N/E for a comment and support.

"And you don't like his place? And here goes tricky- how to tell him you want to but not really, but he should move into your place!"- Y/N/E said and Elijah was now looking at both of them like- I don't see a problem or drama here.

"You wouldn't get it anyway"- Rebekah shot at her brother-"you two never had this problem- you got together- got engaged- eloped and got to - well- you started living here like it was a normal thing."

"It was easy"- Y/N/E said-"Elijah's bachelor pad was too bachelor and had loads of bachelor history- plus- I never brought anyone here, except for him."

"You're not making it easier"- Rebekah moaned.

"You will either have to tell him you don't wanna move with him or ask him to move in with you!"- Elijah then said.

"What if he says no and then everything gets awkward and I lose him?"- Rebekah went on.

This was a cue for Elijah to leave as he knew Rebekah was going to grind about this particular thing forever.

He kissed Y/N/E goodbye and told his sister that she should not overthink too much.

"He doesn't get anything"- Rebekah remarked as Elijah walked away.

"Ok. Do you want to hear what I think"- Y/N/E then said.

"Yes. Shoot"- Rebekah said.

Y/N/E then laid out her thoughts in a very diplomatic way.

Elsewhere, Caroline and Klaus were on the phone to one another as Caroline slipped very early out of his apartment as she had to go to her place to change and then to the studio to meet the new co-anchor and talk about how they would do the show.

"I think it's time you brought some stuff over to my apartment"- Klaus said.

"How romantic"- Caroline remarked.

"I thought you were a very pragmatic person. You told me to do any extravagant- no crazy gifts. I am just being practical. How many times did you have to get up at five to get to go to your place etc"- Klaus retorted.

"I don't know how we always wind up in your place, so, I have no other choice"

"Let's make a choice then"- Klaus said.

"What would that be?"- Caroline asked chuckling a bit.

"Marry me and everything is solved."- Klaus said.

"What did you just say?"- Caroline was stunned.

"What part?"- Klaus played innocent.

"The marry me part!"- Caroline said.

"Ah, that. Yes. Marry me"- he said.

"You are not serious?"

"I am very serious."- Klaus said and by the tone of his voice it was clear to Caroline that he really meant it.

She went quiet- in her head a little trailer rushed through beginning with their first meeting and to that very phone call.

"Caroline?"- she could hear Klaus now on the other line bringing her back to reality- and she replied-

"I- did you have to ask me over the phone?"- Caroline was miffed.

Klaus now knew that he had messed up. But, as always knew way out of it- "Well- you hate all OTT stuff, so I thought if I do it in a casual way - this 8s the way to go"

"Seriously?"- Caroline said slightly annoyed.

"No"- Klaus admitted-"it just came out"

"It came out?"

"Yes. I had no plan, but I want to marry you. You are the one for me, my southern belle. You have been from day one!"

Caroline was left speechless, and that was a rare thing.

"I have to go. I'll see you later"- Caroline eventually said and hang up.

_____________________________________

#Elijah Mikaelson #Elijah Mikaelson x reader #Elena Gilbert #Klaroline #tvd fanfiction #Fanfiction #alternative universe

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notorious-fiction · 7 years

Text

The Christmas Prince (A Whoever You Want to Read With One-Shot)

You two had made a deal.

Shook hands and all, very solemn looks on your faces, promising one another a very simple thing.

No gift exchanging on Christmas day.

(You'd just been laid off your job and it sucked balls, and he knew money was a bit short on your end and also knew you would never, in a gazillion years accept any money from him, so he started to come up with a bunch of lame ass excuses to make you feel a bit better.)

("It's cliché", he had snorted when you touched the subject "Exchanging Christmas gifts. Ugh. It was meaningful before but now it's just another "especial" date that lost it's core value to boost capitalism. I mean, you can be a crappy boyfriend all year round as long as you buy your girl an extra glittery Hallmark card and a Tiffany Bracelet, right?")

("Right." You had agreed, although not really, because as much as you found sexy as fuck when he used pretty words - core value, damn - you still flipping loved Christmas and looked forward to it all year long.)

So no gift exchanging it was.

You'd spend Christmas day with you family and he would spend it with his - you knew how rare it was for him to take some time to see them - but the day before, the 24th, you had him all to your own.

Just "a casual dinner, the two of us" (his words, not yours) with some "classic Christmas movies, deal with it, loser" (your words, not his) at your place.

Going out was a real pain nowadays, with the whole paps, fangirls, Snapchatters, etc thing, so to save yourself from the stress (how come he never failed to look like a Goddamn model on those candids whilst you looked like you were about to sneeze? Ugh.), staying in it was.

In, with no gifts.

Or at least you thought so, because mid afternoon on December 24th your iPhone seemed to gain a life of its own, all your social media accounts on a frenzy of notifications as, oh well, your famous as fuck of a boyfriend was spotted loading a box the size of a small poney into his car.

("She is so lucky!!!!!!")

("What did he get herrrrrrr i'd be happy just with his dick on box and by the size of it its prob that lol")

("Ugh i hope its a bomb")

(Insert other very sweet comments here.)

You controlled the urge to text him (going against your über curious personality with all the strenghth your posessed), instead focusing on the fact that you were...

Fucked.

Because whilst your boyfriend was on the posession of a very big, flashy box (what you had no idea what was inside, Christ, what the hell was inside of it?!), you were in the posession of...

"How The Grinch Stole Christmas", "Elf" and "The Polar Express".

(All masterpieces, in your humble opinion.)

And the phone of the thai take out two blocks from your place.

(Best pad thai and sticky rice ever.)

(Plus it gave tons of free sriracha packets! Yay for free stuff!)

But seriously, what the fuck were you supposed to give to a human being who seemed to have absolutely everything?!

It'd be stupid to give him clothes - he got those for free -, you had no idea what his shoesize was (did that make you a horrible girlfriend? oops) and anything else you could think of was undoubtely lame.

What if you made him something?

Okay so you didn't know how to draw or paint or knit or rhyme or write a song or do anything that required a minimum artistic vein slash handicraft talent but you could...

Try?

Throwing your body on the couch, your laptop literally on your lap, you sat on your ultimate comfy position - which he had lovingly nicknamed "Cirque Du Soleil's contortionist catching up on reality TV on it's free time" or "how you don't have a back problem is beyond me" (when he said that last one he totally reminded you of your mom) -, typing on the words that were responsible for many delayed papers at Uni and scurries off the house whilst almost tripping on your shoes as you were late as fuck.

Pinterest dot com.

(A blessing and a curse to womankind, honestly.)

D. I. Y.

(Do it yourself.)

(Although you actually never did.)

Scrolling down the screen - DIY baking soda shampoo! DIY mosaic tile birdbath using recycled DVD's! DIY Glittery Bath Bombs! - you noticed that all of them seemed to involve stuff everyone apparently had at home except you like glue guns or spray paint or Scrabble tile holders (...seriously) so after five minutes of Pinterest searching, you sighed in defeat.

(Hard effort wasn't your forte, you had to admit.)

Even friendship bracelets are a hard task to accomplish when you have the skills of a three year old toddler and if you actually purchased a glue gun you could already picture yourself glueing nothing but your own fingers and spending Christmas Day at the ER.

But you did have glitter glue, and that wasn't so dangerous was it?

You also had an old, slightly crumpled piece of cardboard and a "DIY Easy Glittery Hallmark card tutorial!" (snort) at your screen, so you decided to give it a go.

If it came out okay you'd be able to give him as an ironic gift?

("Oh hey, I know you gave me a super awesome/expensive/fancy/cool/thoughtful - insert whatever the hell could be inside that massive box here Christ the curiosity was killing you - but ha-ha-ha remember that snark you made about glittery Hallmark cards?! Instead of giving money to the greedy capitalist men I made one myself, how about that?! Aren't I the Best Girlfriend Ever?!?!?!")

And if it came out like crap you could, y'know, throw it in the bin...

...So of course it came out like crap.

Because you somehow managed to put more glitter glue on the tip of your fingers than on the goddamn cardboard, more glitter glue on your clothes as you absentmindedly rubbed your hands on it as you tried to think of what the hell you could do to save your "Merry Christmas" masterpiece.

(Trash.) (That was how you could save it, your dignity, your boyfriend's poor eyes and your dignity.)

(By throwing your masterpiece on the garbish.)

(Fuck ironic gifts.)

Of course that instead of coming up with another idea after the Glittery-DIY-Hallmark-Card fiasco, your procrastinator side spoke louder, and click after click after click you found yourself going deeper and deeper of that pit called Pinterest, until you blazed on a section you'd never dared to venture on before.

The recipe session.

There were gooey chocolate chip bars, chocolate fudge brownies, kale and artichokes dip, quinoa fried "rice" (...why would someone all it fried "rice" if it had no rice in it only quinoa, you wondered...) and everything made your mouth water and stomach growl and you deeply wished there was someone who could make it for you.

Everything sounded too tempting (and too hard and with too many fancy ingredients and kitchen appliances you'd never even heard of) until you found...

"Easy adaptable chocolate chip cookies with ingredients everyone has at home!!!!! Can be made vegan gluten/lactose/nut/anythying free paleo atkins insert random diet you'd never heard of before here"

Well...

Following a recipe wouldn't be that hard... Would it?

Especially when you could sub eggs for oil if you didn't have any or oil for mashed banana or mashed banana for applesauce or applesauce for honey or honey for agave which were all obviously so much alike, right?

Throwing everything you had into a single bowl - did you mention it was a single bowl recipe? Seriously, it could not get any better, your dishes-washing-hater-side thought - you frowned as you compared your final result to the one on the screen.

Pinterest's batter: gooey but firm, looked so good you wouldn't mind spooning it raw directly into your mouth.

Your batter: two year old's diarrhea, you wouldn't want to spoon it raw directly into your mouth not even if they paid you.

You somehow managed to put little (balls, on Pinterest, blobs, sounded more accurate to your situation) blobs of the batter onto the baking sheet and onto the oven, too busy freaking out slash trying to understand what the hell you did wrong (ooh two american cups of flour? what were american cups? weren't your cups american? why america has to control everything for god's sake?!) to notice the door being unlocked, only realising you had company when you heard an amused chuckle behind you.

Turning around so quick you almost broke your neck - fouet filled with sticky disgusting batter held in hand in a threatingly way - you found him staring, all long legs and perfect hair and mocking grin and...

Empty hands?

Where the hell was the box the size of a toddler he was seen loading into his car?!

Goddamit, internet!

(And why did you feel a lil' bit disappointed I mean...)

(...you had him, hadn't you?)

(Best Christmas Gift Ever, am I right.)

"Hi."

"Hi. Were you..." A cute little frown appeared between his brows, pearly white teeth still on show as he asked "Baking?"

Getting a bit defensive - why did he have to sound so confused/terrified? - you dropped the fouet on the sink, replying "Yes, why?"

"Oh, for nothing! I mean, it smells..."

(Awful.)

"Pretty good."

(Damn, he was a liar.)

Leaning to check the oven temperature just one more time - I mean, better safe than sorry, you couldn't push your luck (any further) - you ignored your boyfriend's stare (a cute little smirk on his lips because well, he thought it was cute how you hadn't noticed the chocolate batter on your chin or how you wore an apron thrice your size), asking maybe a little too cheery "So, how's your Christmas eve going so far?"

( "...Loading too many big ass boxes onto your car?", you rhymed mentally.)

"Well, not too good I mean, I only got to see my lovely lady today." He replied with a charming smile, expecting for you to giggle - alright, fine, he knew you weren't one to giggle, or at least give him love eyes.

You squinted skeptically.

...Okay.

"Empty handed, I see."

"Yeah, kinda glad we decided to skip on that Christmas madness. Had to help a mate out with picking up a complete set of one of those fancy Le Creuset cooking things. Said his girlfriend would love it." He added with a scoff, rolling his eyes "I told him that if I gave you anything kitchen related you'd throw it in my head, but seeing you're apparently into cooking now..." He paused, pursing his lips "Should I write it down as a suggestion for your birthday?"

Her mind went black.

Kitchen appliances.

His mate was giving his girlfriend freakin' casseroles and frying pans.

(Oh poor girl.)

(Poor, poor girl.)

(The disappointment when she opened that huge heavy box.)

(Damn.)

And you had been freaking out the entire day thinking he'd gotten you something big and awesome and you'd look like the awful ungrateful girlfriend.

Man, that ugly glittery card would look like heaven next yo, y'know... Nothing.

"If you ever give me a damn casserole pan I shall rip off your little buddy of you, cut it into tiny little pieces, cook them in the freakin' thing and serve you for dinner." You stated, and he replying, giving you a kiss on the forehead "Aw, see? I know you so well."

God, you were glad he didn't get you anything.

Because being with him was the best gift you could've ever asked for.

(Insert vomiting and cringing here.)

(Fuck you never thought you would be THIS gross and disgusting and loving about any human being in your life after your miserable string of awful break-ups.)

(Yet there you were, with your very own prince charming.)

(Yup, that was it, you guys would be watching The Christmas Prince on Netflix.)

You showed your appreciation by getting on the tips of your toes and pecking him on the lips, the little wrinkle of confusion between his forehead making you want to kiss him even more.

(How was possible for someone to be so cute slash sexy at the same damn time?)

(Seriously.)

(Ugh.)

But then, maybe you'd been too distracted by his pouty pink lips - no chapstick or anything, you wondered how the hell he managed to get them always so soft and puffy and kissable - to check the oven...

And the whole room started to smell a bit smokey.

And look a bit smokey.

"Fuck, my Pinterest cookies!" You squealed, startling him.

You were sort of thankful your fire alarm wasn't working so well, because if the firemen showed up because you almost burned your kitchen down, your landlord would have (even more) reasons to hate you.

"It looks... Edible." Your boyfiend said matter of fact, poking one of your cookies at the tray with the tip of his fingers with brows furrowed.

They looked like baby alien fetus.

(Edible, in some outer galaxy cultures, probably.)

"Want to try them?" You knew by the raise of his eyebrow that it was a challenge, a thing you rarely passed.

Daringly, you got one - dropping it back to the tray because damn they were hot -, trying it again after a few seconds of you two staring at each other with "Who Shall Quit First" eyes.

Was he going to make you eat them first?

By the fake tight ass smile he was giving you, he was...

So with the biggest grin you could muster, you squeaked "Merry Christmas baby! I made these for you! Hope you like them!"

(Or at least don't get food poisoning and die! Please don't get food poisoning and die! I kinda really really really really really like you!)

(And if you die because of me slash my cookies your fans will murder me!)

With a small gulp, he picked one of the alien fetus cookies, shaking it off so they wouldn't be "too hot and burn his tongue" for about three minutes.

You kinda knew he was trying to make as many tiny pieces of it fall out so he'd eat as less of a cookie as possible, but you didn't call him out on it because oh well, he was at least going to eat a teeny bit of them.

And in the end, after a bit of fake awing "Oh, tastes so good babe" and maybe spitting on a napkin when you turned around to throw the dirty dishes on the sink, he did eat your alien fetus cookies.

What made him the best boyfriend slash Christmas present ever.

And after drinking maybe a bit too much wine and watching The Christmas Prince, he drunkenly vowed to never ever give you anything cooking related - as the cookies now rested in peace in your trashcan, on top of your ugly ass glittery card -, and that vow would be proved to be a gift that kept on giving.

(I mean, it would give stomach aches and calls to the fire fighters and be a total waste of ingredients, so you were cool with that.)

(And even if he never gave you anything at all, he dealt with your craziness, your PMSing, you overreacting whenever you let your - very expensive - makeup fall onto the floor, never watched Game of Thrones episodes without you and always let you eat the biggest last slice of cheesecake.)

And if that wasn't much of a proof of real, true love, you had no idea of what the hell it could be.

And that was the greatest gift of all.

(Cue to cringing due to cheesyness again.)

-------

MERRY CHRISTMAS U GUYSSSSSSSSS!

Hope y’all have a fantastic one and find all you wanted under the tree! ooh and if you liked it pls don’t forget to click on that like button (i’ve been watching too many youtube vids send help)

lots lots of love

Gabe

ps: i’d like to dedicate this to my favorite humans on earth victoria, nina and lari, who are still my friends even after i’ve been through probably 30 different mental breakdowns this year, love you guise so muchhhhhhhh thanks for always encouraging me to write!!! oh and if you haven’t read my stories based on them you can find them all here

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imaginesblvd · 7 years

Text

Title: Here we go

Eric x reader

@sparklemichele this is it. I finally did Eric. lol.

Hope whoever reads enjoys!

(image found on google, credit to whomever made it)

Eric eyed you up, as he watched you fight against a boy much bigger than you. He seemed to think you had the upper hand, you moved quickly, he noticed that you waited for him to take a small moment from chasing you, and then you would attack him. Eric took notice of people cheering you on like you were already the champion. He would glare daggers at the teenager when you would take a hit and hear you let out a small cries of pain. Though, in the end you amazed him by knocked the larger boy down and soft snores could be heard leaving his lips.

“That’s it for the day, and y/n, I’d like to talk to you” Eric’s cold harsh voice sent shivers down your spine. You liked the sound of your name leaving his lips, but you couldn’t think of that now or ever. You wouldn’t throw yourself at him, you’d want to get to know the man first but you figured if given the chance you probably, no you would, would you?

The few friends you made, muttered ‘good luck’ as they scurried off. You felt betrayed that they wouldn’t stay and be witness to your death, or praise. Most likely death, you figured. Eric watched you walk towards him, he could tell your guard was still up. Though, he figured it was due to his reputation with dealing with initiates. He watched your brows raise in question, your mouth opened then closed before pressing your lips together.

“You fought well” Your eyebrows raised higher if possible and Eric rolled his eyes “You couldn’t have learned that all within a couple of weeks, who are you training with after hours?” His voice was demanding; you bit your lip as you shook your head.

“No one” You told Eric, his face contorted in anger as he took a step so he was in your face “Don’t lie to me, initiate” He spoke through a clenched jaw, but you didn’t flinch away from, you stood your ground. Eric was almost impressed but his anger overpowered him as he placed his hands on your shoulders. Shivers running up and down your spine at his touch but you wished you’d taken the stupid jacket off, just to feel his warm hands on your shoulders. You mentally slapped yourself at the thought.

You figured he was going to shake you, till you told the truth. Though it didn’t happen, his grip just got tighter and tighter. You took hold of his wrist when the grip started to hurt, giving his wrist a squeeze as you spoke “I’ll tell you, once you take you damn hands off me” and so he did a triumphant smirk graced his lips.

“The big guy I took down, Daniel” Eric rolled his eyes “We’ve been training together, and I leant most of his moves” You felt betrayal fill you, you didn’t want anyone to know that you’ve had help to get as far as you did within the first couple of weeks.

“Okay, let’s fight” Eric watched your face fill with shock, a small shake of your head “Unless, he let you win” Eric raised a brow and you felt your lip twitch in a sneer “Fine” You snapped and Eric smiled as he motioned towards the mats.

You watched Eric take of his jacket, your eyes widened at the muscles of his arms. You didn’t think you’d be able to take him. You both got into your stances, and you took a deep breath before it started. …

You laid on the mat, your face scrunched up in pain as Eric hovered over you. A look of satisfaction on his face but your weren’t finished. You brought your knee up and hit him in his sensitive area and rolled over so you were pinning him. Your hands on his clothed chest, you almost forgot you were sparring. You weren’t inches to really feel his skin, just to feel his touch, but you couldn’t, you wouldn’t. He didn’t know anything but anger and entitlement.

“You’re an asshole” You whispered as you pushed yourself off Eric and laid back on the mat as his hand went down to cup his hurt “Cheap shot” he hissed at you and you let out a chuckle “Yeah? Well, next time don’t ask me to fight you” You hissed and he rolled his eyes.

It went silent for a moment, and he got up and grabbed his jacket and walked out. You sat up, and watched him leave. You glared after him as you stood, clenching your jaw in pain. You stretched for a moment before leaving the training area.

You found your friends and sat next to them. They had gotten your food already, and you dived in. You were so hungry and sore, but you couldn’t get over the fact that you won against Eric. The fearless hard ass leader, though it was a cheap shot but you were glad to have made it. In the moment you didn’t realize the look of lust in his eyes, or was it wonderment? You didn’t know, you didn’t want to waste time in thinking about it as you let out a deep sigh.

“What happen?” You turned to look at your friend, who’s name is Lindsey “Nothing, just didn’t believe a stiff like me could win against Daniel, is all” you told her and she nodded her head “I thought for sure you two were going to, you know” she wiggled her brows and you gagged “Yeah right, sure he’s good looking but sleep with him, no way” you told her and she rolled her eyes “I would, just to say I did” You snorted shaking your head “Well, If I did, I wouldn’t want anyone to know” you told her as you took the tin cup and sipped on the water.

Would you sleep with Eric if given the chance? Possibly, but you didn’t know anything about him, and you didn’t think he was a sharer. You felt eyes on you and so you turned to look up and saw Eric standing there with a glare set on his face.

Eric watched you snark down your food like someone was going to take it from you. He didn’t know that you were talking about him, but he had a feeling you weren’t much of a talker when it came to anything. He watched you get up and go over to Daniel and he felt a surge of jealousy fill him. He watched you take Daniel’s hand and your other going to his back. He figured he had to put a stop to it, if he wanted to make this feeling stop. He didn’t like it, but if he had this sort of attachment to you, then he wouldn’t want you to be with anyone else but him. In ways he could see that you were alike, sure you weren’t hard like him, but you were willing to go the distance just to be here. So he made it his mission to keep you away from any guy, and to some how make you his own play thing.

…

It was mid-week when you noticed Eric following you around the compound. Whenever you tired to speak to Daniel, he would get this look of fear and scurry away. You also noticed, when you tired to speak with any other guy, they’d do the same as Daniel and it was starting to piss you off. So you started keeping to yourself aside from Lindsey, though on some occasions she would scurry away like you threatened her yourself, it was later when you realized it was your shadow that scared the people away from you. You wondered how far he would go, and you knew his feelings towards Four.

So you had made a plan, to see about Four training you after hours. Though when you asked he denied and you felt utterly alone. You wanted to confront Eric and his stupid tactics of making you feel this way. You knew it was what he wanted, to get you alone but the fear of being alone with him worried you more. Though, if you wanted to be in dauntless you’d have to face those fears.

So you wondered though blue tinted halls of the compound, hearing the soft patters of his boots behind you. You turned towards the training from and sprinted to the doors, you pulled them open and stood off to the side waiting for him to come through the doors so you could tackle him down and make him talk. You could feel the slight shake in you knees, and hands. Your quickened pulse as you readied yourself to tackle him, it shouldn’t be too long now. You wondered what was taking him so long.

“What’re you doing?” You nearly jumped out of you skin, your pulse beating faster as your hand went just under your throat “What the hell!?” You sneered at Eric “I asked you question” He snapped and you rolled your eyes “Im trying to figure what’s going through that big head of yours, why can’t you leave me alone? Like the first couple of weeks you didn’t even look at me, but since I beat Daniel, it’s like you don’t want me to know anyone here” you told him fuming as he took slowly steps towards you, you backed up into the wall, but quickly moved to the side so you didn’t feel trapped.

“I just want to make sure your not kidding yourself, half these people aren’t going to be here soon” Eric told you and you snorted “So I’m supposed to believe your looking out of me?” He bobbed his head back and further as he shrugged “I’m invested in you, I don’t know what it is, but I have this need for you. It doesn’t happen for me often but when it does I take what I want” You felt a chill run up your spine at his words “I can say no” your voice faltered and he smirked “You won’t, but if you do, I won’t give you a second chance” your brows furrowed in confusion as you backed up some more.

Did you want him? This would totally contradict what you stated earlier. Though you couldn’t deny the thrill you felt from his words, and the way he looked. The way he set his mind on what he wanted and his drive to make it happen. Though, you didn’t like the way he’s done it, but he did. You no longer had Daniel, or any other guy for that matter. No one wanted to really hurt you in training because of him, and that made you angry. You wanted to punch his beautiful face, and at the same time you wanted to feel his touch. You felt confused with yourself, and you hated that it was him making you feel this way. Could he really feel under that hard exterior? Or would he use until he was done and throw you away? You didn’t know and a part of you didn’t want to find out but the small voice in your head told you to just do it. Just let yourself get lost in him, and let him have you.

“You can’t love me the way I would want to be” You stated. Eric stood inches from you, so you had to look up at him “No, but I could make you feel better about not having that” He told you and you closed your eyes “At anytime I say no, you will listen or I will kick you so hard in the balls, and leave” You threatened and he glared down at you but nodded.

Eric took hold of you and pulled you into his arms and placed a hard unexpected heated kiss to your lips and you pulled back and slapped him. His furious expression sent a wave of ice through your core.

“Uh, sorry, I just didn’t think, you’d hope right in” You whispered and Eric rolled his eyes as his grip tightened “Why wouldn’t I?” He raised his pierced brow “Uh, we have training in less then a minute? People could enter in like 10 seconds” you told him and he groaned loudly as you pulled yourself from his grasp “After training, your mine for the whole night” He announced and you nodded your head.

Excitement and dread filled you, you had no idea what you had gotten yourself in to, but you’d face it head on. You won’t let him push you around, but in a way you would let him, in certain aspects of this new relationship that would blossom from this unexpected experience. You vowed to keep it a secret, and hoped no one would catch on. Though, you would do the same to him with another girl that tried to make a move on him, after all he would be yours and you would be his.

#eric divergent imagine #divergent imagine #eric x reader #eric divergent x reader #eric coulter imagine #eric coulter x reader

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tellywoodtrash · 7 years

Text

ishqbaaz 19.09.17 lb

god, back to the mysterious kaagaz. fucking tell us already. 😒😒😒

shakti seems all cavalier about this, but dadi is fuh-reaking out. which of course means it’s gonna come out in a horrible fucking way and phelofy raita. 😖😖😖

oh great. it’s related to both billu and anika? PLEASE GOD DON’T TELL ME THEY’RE LIKE... RELATED OR SOME SHIT. PLEASE. THIS IS GULNEET, I PUT ABSOLUTELY NOTHING PAST THEM, NOT EVEN INCEST. 😟😟😟😟😟😟

please lord, let it just be the normal thing - the oberois murdered anika’s family or some shit. yes, that’s NORMAL for this show. 😣😣😣

billu ka OMG SECRET AGAINST ME radar is extra sharp after all the shit that’s gone down. try to even plan a secret birthday party for him? not gonna happen. the man is going to be just that heckin’ paranoid. 😐😐😐

dadi lying through her damn teeth like a pro. 😊😊😊

omfg, he just made sadface and was like “jaake intezaar karta hoon uska.” JESUS CHRIST BILLU, GET A DAMN HOBBY. MAKE A TUMBLR. REBLOG SOME MEMES AND PICS OF CATS. GET A DAMN LIFE YOU FREAK. 😕😕😕😕😕

but lord, it’s also kinda adorable. 💖💖💖

*does tilak and feeds gauri dahi shakkar*

man what ghazab confidence this girl has, straight away introducing herself. i’ve been at my workplace for over 5 months now, and there’s people i see everyday and smile at, but don’t know names of. and now it’s too damn embarrassing to ask. 😕😕😕

aw, uncleji wants to learn english to talk to his bahu! 😌😌😌

oh great. a smart aleck teacher. already side eye-ing him. 😑😑😑

gauri kumariiiii sssarma’s looking kinda star struck and impressed by this idealist teacher dude. gosh i hope spoilers of a jealousy track are true, coz i would fucking love to see om jelly of this guy. hee hee hee. 😊😊😊

god i really don’t get why they make gauri all awkward about handshakes????? 😒😒😒

billu is chehak-ing coz wifey is back todayyyyy! 😚😚😚

OMFG HIS SHEEPISH GRIN MY GOD THIS MAN IS TOO FUCKING ADORABLE IT’S MAKING MY TEETH HURTTTTTT 😫😫😫😫😫

wifey is strong independent woman who don’t need no man and is back all by herself. tough luck to billu who might have been looking forward to maarofying chance in the car. 😝😝😝

GOD I AM SO HAPPY TO SEE HER BACK PLEASE SURBHI DON’T EVER LEAVE US LIKE THIS AGAIN UNLESS THERE’S A BANK OF EPISODES PLEASE THIS SHOW IS UNBEARABLE WITHOUT YOU LIFE ITSELF IS UNBEARABLE WITHOUT YOU I WILL NEVER LET YOU GO *clings to her leg* 😭😭😭😭😭😭

lololololol a simple question and she’s biting his head off. she’s still hellllla mad. 😂😂😂

HAHAHAHAHAHAH THANK YOUUUUUUUUU 🤣🤣🤣🤣

“jaise hawa mein aapke helicoptor udte hai waise roadon pe humare liye busein bhi chalti hai.”

THE SNARK IS STRONG. 😆😆😆

“araaam se aana dadi!”

pffffffffffffffffffffft 😂😂😂

lmao anika ne toh thank you ka jaaaaap hi kar rakha jaise koi mantra ho.

billu is suggesting they go to the roommmmm. 😏😏😏

LMAOOOOOOOOOOO HER FACE

the slightest touch and the tharak is on! look at their bodies just gravitating to each otherrrrrrrrrr! holy shit, just baaaaaang already! 😯😯😯😯

i think anika’s maaarofying current these days like devrani used to. billu’s staring at his hand all perplexed. 😌😌😌

“thank you kehkar bohut badi galti kar di maine. nahi, PAAP HO GAYA MUJHSE!”

snort. you know what they say billu, hell hath no fury...

dadi looks pareshaan af.

oh great, anika’s going to take this on her head? 😟😟😟

oh thank god, she’s delegating to shivaay. good. 😌😌😌

billu’s here for round 2, but anika bohut hi gambhir mood mein. awaiiii. 🙄🙄🙄

this angst is so fucking random and unnecessary????????????// 🤔🤔🤔

billu’s been guilteddddd. 😐😐😐

LOL OM IS LOSING IT AND I AM FUCKING LOVING IT 😂😂😂😂

i fucking love kunal’s panic waala acting, like during the baby track

HAHAHAHAHA HIM RUNNING AWAY FROM THE DOOR PRETENDING LIKE HE WASN’T STANDING THERE WAITING FOR HER ALL THIS WHILE OMFG WHAT AN ADORABLE DORK 🤣🤣🤣🤣

yeah this asshole has gotten too complacent about her life revolving around him and needs to be knocked two or three pegs down. this is perfect opportunity. 😊😊😊

lol such ~subtle questioninggggg. 😋😋😋

awwwwww, he was waiting for her to eatttttt. 😯😯😯

it’s ok. ek din nahi khaaya toh kuch nahi hoga. suffer a little for being a dick. 🙃🙃🙃

still love you though, boo. *pats his hair* 😘😘😘

OMFG THIS BILLU HAS GONE MAD. HE’S DEMANDING DADI INVENT A FUNCTION SO HE CAN MAKE ANIKA FEEL SPECIAL. MATLAB, HADH HAI YAAR. 😒😒😒

ALL THIS IS SO FUCKING UNNECESSARY, JUST FUCKING TELL HER YOU LOVE HER. MY GOD WHAT EVEN IS YOUR FUCKING LIFE, SHIVAAY? 😐😐😐

i blame his damn family for indulging him like this. my fam would just be like fuck off, we can’t be wasting time like this to validate your every whim and fancy. think of something yourself. spoiltass brat. 🙄🙄🙄

what’s anika so SMILEYYYYY AND CRYING about??? 🤔🤔🤔

god she looks so fucking pretty. i want to cap every frame, she’s that gorgeous. 😍😍😍😍

are those the papers billu tried to write her a letter on? she’s this happy just seeing “dear anika” written a buncha times? 🤔🤔🤔

but they look like some legal papers though?

billu be like hein? abhi tak maine kuch kiya bhi nahi?

OHHHHH IT’S THE SAHIL KE CUSTODY PAPERS. SILLY TT. *FACEPALM* 😯😯😯😯😯😯😯

LOL GENUINE THANK YOU THA BILLU. DON’T LOOK SO SAD. 😄😄😄

lol he’s freaking out at her tears, as usual.

aw, he’s remorseful that he can’t say what she wants to hear. “main koshish kar raha hoon, lekin atak jaata hai...”

“jaanti hoon aapko waqt lagega, lekin please, thank you mat bolna, please.”

an unofficial thank you ban has been instated. 😆😆😆😆

“what you said, it meant the world to me.”

LOOK AT THIS SAD PUPPY WHO IS UNABLE TO SAY THE WORDS HE WANTS TO NO MATTER HOW MUCH HE TRIES 💘💘💘💘

she’s oh babe. tumse nahi hoga. stahp.

ok crying a little lot. because like i said in my very first analysis post, she’s never really needed the words from him. he’s been showing her through actions that he loves her from waaay back. and she’s understood. right from then. 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

“YOU A DAMN BHEEGI BILLI”

his faaaaaaaaaaaaaaace. oh my godddddd. i love this idiot so much.

GIRLFRIEND PUTTING THE MOVES ON HIM AGAIN SHE’S PUTTING THE MOVES ON HIM AGAIN THIS IS NOT A DRILL OMFG ALL MY DREAMS ARE COMING TRUE I CAN DIE HAPPY LORD 😫😫😫😫😫

OMG SHE TOLD HIM AGAIN AND BILLU LOOKS LIKE HE’S BEEN HIT BY A FRYING PAN OVER HIS HEAD ALL THAT’S MISSING ARE CARTOON STARS AND BIRDS ✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

sister here knows exaaaaactly what she’s doing to her husband. look at that smug grin. 😏😏😏😏

lol she’s waiting for another thank you! 😆😆😆

nope. not making that mistake again! 😎😎😎

left standing there with that same dopey smile! 😊😊😊

aw, he’s vowing to tell her anyway. you go billu!!!! 😘😘😘

svetlana’s showing jhanvi exactly why tej is being so cooperative.

lovinggggggggg jhanvi’s shock. coz she’s such a dumbassss. honestly, she’s not even worthy of being svetlana’s foe. my girl be living in 3008, while you losers are living in two thousand late. 🙄🙄🙄

omki’s wifey is missing againnnnn. 🙃🙃🙃

great pinky is here to taang adaofy again. 😑😑😑

same, omki. #same.

what joy does this woman get from fucking with these kids’ marriages? does she have some kinda jocasta complex or what? coz i realllllllly don’t get it. 😣😣😣

god bless omkara and his sweet sassy smile while telling pinky that this is not a big deal. i’d just be like fuck off satan. 😒😒😒

god, yeh do - to - go dialogue chupke chupke se nahi churaya gaya? 🤔🤔🤔

why’s this teacher dude’s shirt open to like, the third button? it’s making me uncomfortable. 😖😖😖

ooooooooooooh gauri’s stuck hereee. 😯😯😯

“yeh mera badappan hai jo tum aise free ghoom rahi ho.” lmao i love svetlana so much 🤣🤣🤣

god queen, just kill her dumb ass. 😒😒😒

ughhhhhhhhhhhh. this garbaaaaage.

PAINTING? WHAT PAINTING? PHIR MURTI KO KYUN DEKH RAHI THI??? 😧😧😧😧

HA. YESSSSSSSSSSSSSS, FUCK HER UP SVETTTTY. 😈😈😈

is this painting nonsense going to be supernatural too? like she travels through alternate planes using the painting or some shit, like the principals in harry potter? 😩😩😩😩

omfg she blew a kiss. i’m in loooooooooove. 😍😍😍😍😍

oh greattttt, allllll these idiots are on this case again. that too standing in the middle of the fucking house and talking about it louuuuuuudly. this is exactly why villains are able to fuck you idiots up. 😒😒😒😒

om looks least bit interested in all this. he’s just here coz shivika are, and the wife isn’t home to stare/passive aggressively banter with. 😆😆😆

oh, that got their attention.

do you even know WHICH PAINTING? 😐😐😐

omkara exhibiting that his art degree is very much useful, thanks very much. STEM IS NOT EVERYTHING OK, DESIS????????/ 😒😒😒😒

WAIT THESE PPL ARE SO FUCKING RICH AND THEY HAVE AN ENLARGED PHOTOCOPY OF A PAINTING HANGING IN THEIR HOUSE? 😐😐😐

haaaaaye my handsome boys. 😍😍😍

oh, svetlana replaced the painting.

ok who the FUCK is this fucking white fucker IN INDIA who doesn’t know what fucking chai is? 😒😒😒😒

WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH THIS TEACHER, WHY IS HE SUCH A LOSER? 😤😤😤

yes, i know what he’s doing. he’s forcing them to interact with this white asshole in english. but matlab, hadh hoti hai unconventational teaching methods ki. 🙄🙄🙄

ok bade bhaiyya is soooooooo fucking team Gauri that he’s just not even trying with omkara anymore. which ok, i love and all, but come on shivaay, you gave fucking rudra alllll that advice on his BS relationship, and you’re not even making an attempt with om???? 😣😣😣

chubby’s had enough of this BS. ladki toh chod ke chali gayi, raita phailaaake, sametna is bechaare ko pad raha hai. 😪😪😪

lol are rudra/chubby the couple for today? i am fucking lovingggg it. 😊😊😊

literally no one is interested in being here other than shivaay and anika. ugh these new couples and their enthusiasm. 🙄🙄🙄🙄

look at this poor anxious munchkin. 😚😚😚

.... has surbhi gotten extra golden on her vacay, or is nakuul not wearing his makeup today?? he’s looking reaaaaaallly pale compared to her in this scene. 😐😐😐

even anika’s like god knows what new plan you and dadi have made up to embarrass me publicly now. billu’s like wait and waaatch, jaaneman. 😏😏😏😏😏

great, passive aggressive sniping from pinky and shakti. LITERALLY NO ONE WANTS TO BE HERE BILLU. WHY CAN’T YOU JUST SHOW HER THE TAPE IN THE PRIVACY OF YOUR ROOM AND FINISH THIS OFF. AWAIIIII KA KHEENCHNA. 😫😫😫😫

oh god i dont wanna watch this nonsense. it’s super fucking late where i am (i fell asleep watching the episode mid way) and i have a hella long commute tomorrow and i just wanna go back to sleeeeep. 😭😭😭😭😭

shakti, this fucking savage is probably gonna come back with a cactus or some shit, isn’t he? 😂😂😂

oh suddenly now everyone’s ok with the “bhavya was a cop on duty at our place” theory???? like....??? memories and attachment to ppl like goldfish, these fucking oberois. 😒😒😒

OK RUDRA, FIRST OF ALL, PROTEIN AND CARBS KA MEL HAI IN A HEALTHY DIET. AND FUCK YOU, YOU’RE SUCH A LOSER. THIS IS WHY SHE LEFT YOUR ASS. THIS IS WHY SUMO LEFT TOO. 😑😑😑

godddddd. this episode just won’t get overrrrrrrr. 😫😫😫😫😫

meanwhile this doctor waala chutiyaapa continues.

the white doctor just unironically said:

waittttt, when did tej and svetlana move outta oberoi mansion??? what even is going on? where the fuck is thissss? 😐😐😐

god svetlana, why are you wasting so much timeeeee? just kill ALL these losers. 😒😒😒

gauri kumari sssssarma to the rescue. as usual. always carrying everyone’s inefficient asses. 😎😎😎

another thing she has in common with shivaay: both have leadership skills, anything happens and they jump to the frontlines and get to action.

lmaoooooo “hai kathaiiiii angrez ki aulaaad, seedha paani nahi bol sakta tha????” 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

gauri, caaareful. don’t break his ribs or some shiz. follow the beat to stayin’ alive! 😣😣😣

what the fuck nonsense. he’s no more it seems. awaiiiii. 🙄🙄🙄

GOD I AM SO OVER THIS TEJVI PLOT AND THEIR BUDDHON KA ANGST. GIVE ME SHIVIKA AND RIKARA. 😩😩😩

ok someone fuckinggggggg kill this teacher for reallllllll. god. 😡😡😡

if she just needs to look on the internet for words she doesn’t know, she can already do that. why does she need to come to this fucking class? 😒😒😒😒

sulky!kara is standing away all angsty and shiz. what a child. anyway, good. burn, fool, burn! 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

#ishqbaaz #ishqbaaaz #ib episode liveblogs #episode liveblogs #190917 ib lb

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sunlitroom · 7 years

Text

Gotham - s3e19 - All Will Be Judged

As I watched it, and some random observations here and there.

Previously on Gotham:

Lee and Mario’s very short honeymoon at the cabin from the Godfather II. Mario could have lived a normal life! Barnes wants to judge Jim. The court has a virus. Kathryn orders what must be the 100th hit on Jim Gordon. Does she get a fabulous prize? Bruce never left that alley. Selina is defenestrated again. Ed just doesn’t shut the fuck up. Jim and Oswald have a tense conversation in an alley.

As always, long post will be long - reaaally long. There are likely to be rambling digressions. Gobblepot may appear (although I welcome all shippers and non-shippers alike :)). There will be naked favouritism and naked not-favouritism. Broader comments at the end on plotlines and parallels and general direction.

Oswald and Ed in matching cages in a Court building.

Oswald

Oswald turns slowly, rage making the turn of his head jerky.

You're alive

Oswald walks closer, and smiles briefly – before making a grab for Ed through the bars

Ed looks terrified, and lurches backward. He sounds furious that Oswald dared to survive his punishment. Oswald grins venomously – Ed gave him something to live for: revenge.

Ed - being Ed – needs to check he’s real, and smacks his head. Oswald fulminates.

(An aside – this will pretty much set the tone for the rest of their interaction. It’s virtually all played for comedy – squabbling children who hate each other)

Ed says that Oswald’s habit of survival makes him more cockroach than penguin. He also tells Oswald:

Don't you dare call me Ed. I am the Riddler. I became him when I killed you.

It sounds massively silly when he says it here – and I’d pay good money for Oswald to see a hallucination of Fish right now, waving one long fingernail and asking him what the hell he was thinking?

As it is – Oswald rolls his eyes. He’s not dead, though. Ed concedes this. Oswald says he came back from dead to kill Ed – although Ed points out he wound up in prison. Oswald says he has him where he wants him. Ed hits the bars of his cell - not for long

Wayne Manor, where an alarm is sounding. Selina has broken in. Bruce2 smiles – it might sound strange, but he’s glad she’s alive –Selina says that is strange, but she came here to do one thing. They brawl – and she calls him a freak – a cheap knock-off – and stabs him, but he won’t bleed. Alfred tries to split this up as Selina screams that he’s not Bruce – but this temporarily gives Bruce 2 the advantage, and he hits Selina on the head with a poker.

Alfred goes to an unconscious Selina’s side and says they need a doctor. Seeing Bruce 2’s weird non-bleeding wound – he realises the truth. Bruce2 says that Bruce is serving a greater purpose than himself, as is he. He says Alfred was always kind to him - even when he thought he wasn't Bruce, and – despite his begging – wallops Alfred over the head.

Bruce is back in Gotham with dreary guru guy. Zzzzzz.

Lee sits dozing in front of a fire on a stormy night. Mario wakes her. She tells him she was having the worst dream. There was a virus loose in city – that brought out the darkness in people, and he had it. And there was this boring love triangle with Jim and Valerie Vale - and Ed and Oswald were trapped in a tedious ooc storyline totally disengaged from the main plot, and Victor Zsasz was hardly in it at all!

Mario – though – is only interested in what darkness the virus brought to light in him. Lee tells him he was jealous of Jim

But I'm taller than he is

(An aside – lol)

Lee continues – right up to Mario’s death on their wedding day.

He reassures here – I’m right here

He tells her to take her medicine and go to bed – voice soothing – before slitting his wrist, draining the blood into a glass. Lee watches, and then says

I'm so sorry

Mario’s face is the virus face now – and his voice is distorted

I know - now drink

Lee wakes up for real, and knocks her wine glass from the table.

GCPD, where Jim is looking at the court's holdings to identify where the bomb is hidden. He thinks he’s found a secret room in a secret house. Harvey wants him to get information from Kathryn -who trusts him.

(An aside – right: I’m fucking mystified by that one. Harvey thinks Kathryn still trusts Jim? But...but - the dead talon? The fact that Jim evacuated the hall where the bomb was detonated – and was seen doing so by several witnesses? The fact that no-one was infected or hurt in their test detonation? Why would she still trust Jim? If anything – she has ample evidence of his treachery. Has she just not looked yet?)

Harvey snarks a little about Lucius being smarter than him before they head to the secret house.

At the Court safe house, Harvey grumbles about why these can’t ever be in places he’d like to go, like a brewery, stripjoint, or a casino?

(Another abandoned bike in this room – like outside Jim’s apartment. Are bikes inherently sinister?)

Harvey lucks out at a control panel and opens a secret door to a room containing a glass owl. They discover that when the light shines through it – it reveals a map with markers, which they hope denote similar safehouses – which might contain the bomb.

They’re interrupted by smashing glass and a grenade, and......

Oh, dear. Barnes looks silly as hell

He knocks Harvey and Jim out, and reiterates his promise of punishment.

Wayne Manor – where Alfred can’t get Jim on the phone. Selina has related the whole story to him. He tells her she should see a doctor – but quickly accepts her refusal and says she’s going to going to help him find him. Selina says she won’t. Alfred goads her, asking if she’s still angry at Bruce because her mother was a con-artist. He becomes irate – saying that Bruce is a good, loyal friend, and she won't lift a finger.

(An aside - did Alfred not listen very carefully when Selina presumably told him that Bruce 2 pushed her out a window specifically to stop her coming to tell him about Bruce’s abduction and the Court’s plans?)

Selina’s face is sullen

What good will it do me?

He rounds on her. He tells her that she’s a disgrace, that’s she’s just like her mum – and that she should run away and never come back.

Selina doesn’t look at him as he leaves, her face hard.

(An aside – I know Alfred is panicked, but his lack of any understanding here seems glaring. Selina would have been dead if not for Ivy. She’s probably hugely traumatised.)

At the crime scene a very odd witness gives information on the van Barnes escaped in. Harvey tells officers to look out for that van – and find Jim Gordon.

Oswald is whittling a blade while Ed critiques it. They snipe back and forth, Ed demanding that Oswald not call him by name – while Oswald does so repeatedly. Ed snarls enough – and then calls Oswald pathetic. At least he got here because he wanted to know who runs the city. Oswald’s just here because Ed didn’t love him back. Get over it, he spits.

Oswald acknowledges this – but says that’s not why he here. He’s here because Ed destroyed his empire and shot him. No-one does what you did and lives.

They snipe some more. Ed attempts an escape, Oswald foils it, and then passes out – blissfully smiling at the sight of Ed being beaten by the guards

More of this new age stuff? Locking away pain again. Bruce is to put his mother’s pearls in the safe – but can’t do it. Boring guru says it’s time he knows the truth, his truth.

Jim is chained to a chair in an abandoned courtroom. Barnes and Kathryn are very disappointed parents. Jim made a fool of them, they had such high hopes. How can he insult them both by lying to them? Kathryn wants to know who else Jim is working with. She’s already figured out that Hugo played turncoat, and Harvey is obvious.

Jim sneers – and asks if this is an exit interview. Kathryn pushes, but Jim reminds her that the Court ordered his father murdered and drove his uncle to suicide – trying to prod justice-obsessed Barnes into action. When it’s not enough – he pushes harder, calling him a lapdog, and telling him he used to stand for something – even still did, despite his lunacy

(An aside – Jim and Barnes had such an interesting relationship – but it’s really hard to fully get at the pathos of that relationship when Barnes is wearing smokey eyeshadow and has an axe on his arm)

Kathryn reiterates that Jim is an enemy of Gotham, and that Gordons were always stubborn. She also repeats that this is the end – the city will fall – and leaves

Barnes sits at the bench and spouts the appropriate legal talk. Jim’s trial will begin.

Arkham, where Lee is visiting Jervis. Jervis delivers an appropriately creepy and unpleasant rhyme, and waits for her to talk – with some glee – pointing out her tired appearance. She wants to talk to him about something that seems funny to her – and Jervis does love funny things.

She tells him that she never blamed him for Mario – because he’s insane. She blamed Jim instead. Jervis is disappointed. He concedes that’s wise - but not funny. Lee continues – and asks why her infected Mario – and not her – if he meant to hurt Jim.

Jervis tells her that it was apparent at their tea-party that she still loved Jim – and that love doomed Mario. Jim Gordon does not deserve love, he doesn’t get love, and so he decided to turn Lee’s love to hate by infecting Mario, and making Jim seem blameworthy.

Lee looks ill

Jervis laughs – and tells her that was a funny thing. His face turns venomous, and he continues, pointing out that poor Mario is cold in ground, and she blames Jim – but Lee is really to blame for everything

Now see - that's funny.

Lee agrees that she’s to blame, her face bleak, broken.

I am

Oswald wakes - holding head. My hand hurts – so they snipe some more and agree to work together so they can escape and murder each other.

More bullshit spiritual training. We see guru guy’s truth. We are in a room, where an Owl/talon/whatever is kneeling before past guru. Apparently – the Court exceeded their authority in killing the Waynes. They’re just a means to an end for us – although he refuses to explain who that is when Bruce asks. He does – though – want Bruce to help make the Court pay.

Jim is chained to a chair while Barnes reiterates his fatherly disapproval. Jim points out the virus will infect innocent and guilty alike – but no dice, because Barnes thinks the virus is great. He sneers at Jim’s disbelief – just like Lee Thompkins - and tells him the story of Lee’s visit.

He gets ready to pass sentence. Jim pretends to want to die wearing his badge.

One soldier to another

That never really meant anything to Jim, though, and it doesn’t now either, as he pulls the pin on a grenade on Barnes’ belt as he leans in to pin the badge.

There’s an explosion, GCPD runs in, and Barnes leaps out the window

At GCPD – Harvey asks if there’s word on Barnes

He’s a nutjob in a leather jumpsuit with an axe for an arm! I know this is Gotham, but come on people!

Jim is planning to get to Kathryn before she realises he’s escaped, but she’s been arrested and is being brought in.

Alfred appears – he’s been looking for Jim all day: Bruce has been abducted. Harvey groans. They realise they’ve both been after the Court, and the clone story comes – and yes, why haven’t they talked in - like – forever? Long story short – Alfred rushes off to fetch the broken crystal owl.

Back in the makeshift prison - Oswald wails: Ed has a knife to his throat. It’s all a ruse and they escape.

GCPD, where Jim is interrogating Kathryn. She’s alternately stony faced and smiling poisonously – especially when she tells Jim he knows nothing if he thinks that she runs the Court.

Alfred brings the owl. Harvey says he can't even do a jigsaw puzzle – so they’ll ask the guy who makes moulds of the faces of murder victims. He lets slip that Jim is interrogating Kathryn, and Alfred storms in as Harvey chases him – realising his mistake

Oh god no - not that

(An aside – Harvey’s little moments of comic relief in the background are joy)

Kathryn is scornful at Alfred’s arrival – assuming a good cop/bad cop routine – but is less scornful when Alfred stabs her in the hand.

Meanwhile – Barnes has arrived outside. Harvey hears the commotion, and goes to see what’s happening.

In the interrogation room, Kathryn writhes in pain. Jim tells Alfred that’s enough – but he twists the blade, and Jim remonstrates again. When Harvey returns, he separates Jim and Alfred. They head out – Kathryn at gunpoint.

You all corrupted this house with weakness and compromise. This place was a church to me!

Kathryn calls Barnes for help. Jim tells him they will take him in. Barnes is livid.

You dare threaten me! You destroyed the thing I care most about and - for that - the sentence is death.

A fight ensures Barnes knocks Jim to the floor, and easily takes out Harvey and Alfred. Kathryn screams at him – demanding protection – and oh my God I was not expecting the decapitation

Barnes tells Jim it’s fitting he should die here – a demonstration that no-one will escape sentence. Jim turns and blows his hand off with a shotgun. Barnes screams that he will face judgment. Jim tells him

This place is a church - mine.

He stands alone in the wreckage

An alley, where Ed and Oswald emerge through a metal door, and face off – their 5 hour truce in place before they can attempt to kill each other again.

Ed smugly informs Oswald that Barbara runs the underworld and that they have the gangs of Gotham at his back - while Oswald only has himself - and this, this is where the flimsy plotting and world building really starts to become intrusive for me.

Barbara, Tabitha, and Butch murdering key family members like they did would have caused a turf war. A turf war that - really - I'm not remotely convinced they would have won. Let's consider their respective c.vs:

Barbara has about 5 minutes of experience in the crime world and a reputation for insanity. Tabitha has a reputation for cruelty - but no real background in the underworld. If anything, you can imagine them being dismissed as 'poor little rich girls', playing at crime. Butch is known as an eternal second fiddle and worse - in the mindset of Gotham's gangs - second fiddle to a woman, a 'freakish little man', and then two women who don't even have Fish's experience or clout.

As for Ed, he's flashy, conspicuous, and erratic. He has a compulsive need for the attention that organised criminals would strive to avoid. Gangs would see him as a liability. They're also not going to take kindly to his obvious contempt for anyone he deems less intelligent than himself - which is everyone.

So - the notion that Barbara and co apparently rule the underworld with an iron grip is just chronically unconvincing to me. Even if you hypothesize that they murdered every member of the old families - we saw the younger set of gangsters at Oswald's meeting early in season two, who seemed to enjoy the prosperity and stability his brief reign had brought. They apparently just decided to do as they were told? Why? Because Tabitha has a whip and Barbara has a great wardrobe? Nope. Not buying it.

As for telling Oswald that all he has is himself - well, we all know why that comment proves that Ed is much dumber than he'd like to think. Oswald is tough, resilient and - unlike Ed - knows exactly who he is.

In the wreckage of GCPD - Jim holds a bandage to his shoulder – eyes wide as Lee walks in. He asks what she’s doing here. She asks if he assumed that she came to help, and assures him that she didn’t actually know what had happened, and wouldn’t have helped even if she did. She says that if Barnes wrecked this place he loved – maybe it’s because he discovered the truth: there’s no justice here, but she – Lee – is willing to pay for what she’s done.

Jim frowns, confused – and asks her what she’s done, but she brushes him off and walks away. Harvey asks what she wanted – and Jim says he has no clue. They need to find the hiding places, but who is above Kathryn?

Bullshit meditation man - that's who – who induces Bruce to finally place the pearls in the safe. Bruce looks pained – like it’s a betrayal – but does it.

Tell me - how do you feel now when you think of your parents’ murder?

I feel - nothing

He tells a nasty story about how the Talons are taken from orphanages and trained like Bruce has been. He orders the Talon in the room to cut off a finger. They feel no pain but – equally – this leaves their mind pliable, to be moulded by him - just like Bruce’s has been. His face turns malevolent. They will destroy the Court, but Bruce will do whatever he says. Bruce agrees – blank faced.

GCPD – where Jim and Harvey stare at the owl map, before calling in the strike force. Alvarez interrupts them. Not only is Barnes missing – but someone took the virus sample. Jim is momentarily confused – and then remembers that Lee has the combination.

Lee sits alone at the dining table. She holds up the syringe, and injects herself without hesitation. She breathes fast for a few moments, then her eyes darken, and she smiles.

You destroyed the thing I care most about and, for that, the sentence is death.

Barnes claims that Jim destroyed his notion of justice and faith in the law and, for that, Jim must die. Ed took away Oswald’s empire and power – his prize and drive since day one, his tribute to his mother’s faith in him, and he tried to take away Oswald’s life and – hard though that life might be – Oswald holds on to it tightly. For this, Ed must die. Oswald took Isabella away, and for that Ed deems the sentence to be death. Selina seeks to kill Bruce2 – both for his attempted murder of her and his role in Bruce’s abduction. Kathryn took Bruce from Alfred, and Alfred is certainly willing to kill her to get him back. Jim seeks to destroy the Court because they murdered both his father and uncle, and threaten the city, which he loves. Lee’s case is more complex. Jervis has put the idea in her head that she is to blame for everything – and so she sentences her old self to death, infecting herself with the virus – an eye for an eye with Mario’s fate.

I don’t think there’s as much in the way of character development in this epsidoe - they’re largely setting the stage for the finale now. Motivations are being clarified, and pieces are being put into place.

Sundries.

Jervis Tetch plays a very long game.

And still no Victor.

Thoughts?

#gotham commentary #gotham s3e19 #all will be judged

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vapaus-ystavyys-tasaarvo · 7 years

Text

Revenge Sandwich Week 1

Okay I’m here to attempt to participate with actual words rather than just maps. I can do this. By the way I haven’t read any other posts yet because I wanted to make mine first! (Because I’m worried that if I do read other people’s posts they’ve already said everything I was going to say and then I don’t have anything. x) I mean, literary analysis really isn’t my strong suit.)

Turns out this book is still such a page-turner for me. :p It’s really reminding me why I loved Dumas books as a kid. I’m already a bit ahead of schedule because I just couldn’t stop reading. But I’ll just talk about this week’s part now.

So yeah, I did vaguely remember some of what happened here but there were a lot of details I’d forgotten. And even things that don’t count as “details”: SOMEHOW I managed to COMPLETELY forget that this was all about politics and Napoleon. I literally read the part about them stopping on Elba and went “hey wait is this a Napoleon thing?” and yes, turns out it was a Napoleon thing.

Anyway.

This story... or at least the beginning is kind of hilariously unsubtle, isn’t it? The book doesn’t exactly make you wonder who are the good guys and the bad guys. (At this point at least. I have the impression that this is going to change.) And Edmond is kind of boringly perfect and like EVERYBODY LOVES HIM except the couple of guys who’re jealous. Although he IS at least kind of charmingly naïve, the poor guy, so he does have at least one fault...

Well also he has a bit of a temper because of course he does, he’s a Dumas protagonist isn’t he? And btw that bit where he’s all like “yeah Danglars and me once had a row so bad that we almost had a duel over it (on Monte Cristo no less, that sure isn’t foreshadowing anything at all) but I’m sure we’ll get along fine from now on and he definitely would never betray me” rhat is EXACTLY the kind of thought process Dumas himself would have. Like I’m 99% sure he’s just outright calling himself out here.

I mean some of the characters do get some complexity already. M. Morrel is introduced as kind of a greedy bastard who just cares about his cargo rather than that his captain died, but then turns out that he genuinely cares about Edmond and is ready to even risk his own reputation to help him. Caderousse is an envious, selfish bastard but he’s also somewhat sympathetic. (Again, because he defends Edmond... this seems to be a bit of a trend here. Liking Edmond makes you more sympathetic. xD) And then there’s Villefort who’s... well he’s a really compelling character and I find him fascinating and I want to read more about him but I also hhhhate him as a person. :p Yuck, prosecutors. I feel like washing my hands. And I just see red when his only motivation to do the right thing seems to be just to please his fiancée and he like fantasizes about telling Renée about how nice he was. Ewww dude, you are the worst.

Renée is interesting because I kinda genuinely do like her but on the other hand she’s way too happy to marry Villefort which makes me side-eye her a bit. I mean yeah she’s an upper-class woman and probably doesn’t have endless choices about matters of love but still. (Also she doesn’t mind the death penalty apparently unless it’s for political prisoners. >__<) Well, we’ll see how things turn out. I hope she’ll keep showing up.

I do really like all the political stuff, even if it seems to be more about the intrigue and the plot than the kind of manifesto masquerading as a novel that Les Mis is. But I enjoy both kinds. :p It’s a fun contrast too, given that these are novels set approximately in the same era. (And Dumas still finds time to make fun of the Royalists which I appreciate.)

Oh but there seems to be quite a lot of class discussion too, right? Which is interesting. I’d really like to see where it goes.

Uh... that’s pretty much all the at least somewhat structured thoughts I had for now? Like I said, this isn’t really my strong suit.

Some random reactions and comments that I wrote down:

‘-- if it were known that you gave a packet to the marshal and spoke to the emperor, you might be compromised.’

‘How could it compromise me, Monsieur?’

Oh you sweet summer child...

‘I shall always have the highest regard for those who enjoy the confidence of my owners.’

That’s an interesting way to translate “mes armateurs”. (I had to check what it was in the original text, it felt so weird.)

- I love the bit about Les Catalans. It just appeals to me a lot, that kind of sense of a tiny community with an interesting history. I just appreciate it in a story (although I don’t really know how accurately they’re portrayed here and of course we only seem to get to meet two people from there.)

- Another thing is the strong sense of the era, it’s just very very 1815. I like it.

- Mercédès’s speech to Fernand is probably the most blatant kind of exposition dialogue ever lol

- Also at points it feels like maybe you don’t need to remind us that they’re Catalan like literally every time you talk about them? Especially with Fernand, omg. (And who says “with your Catalan knife” when they’re also Catalan themself?)

- So far I like Mercédès though, I don’t really have much to say about her otherwise. Fernand creeps me out, like he’s obviously meant to. He seriously doesn’t seem to care about Mercédès’s feelings AT ALL as long as she doesn’t kill herself. >___<

- All the talk about it being bad luck to call a woman her fiancés name before they’re married and a man captain before he’s been formally appointed... there’s SO MUCH FORESHADOWING HERE OMG. I get it, everything is going to go horribly wrong! Stop reminding me!

- Danglars, why did you even talk in front of Caderousse? I don’t get it at allll. I mean at first I thought the novel was going to have Caderousse, Danglars and Fernand all conspire together against Edmond and I was so confused about Caderousse being there because he seriously didn’t have a good enough reason to hate Edmond... I’m glad it didn’t go that way but now I’m just baffled by Danglars.

- I don’t have much to say about Danglars in general, he’s probably the most one dimensional character so far. I mean I appreciate his twisted mind because it makes him a scarier villain but otherwise... I don’t know, we’ll see.

- Btw isn’t it a bit weird how even though we get told that Edmond has all these friends and how all these people really love and respect him but they don’t really get named or introduced at all? Instead all the focus is on the three people who actually aren’t great friends. Just a thought. It’s weird.

‘a commissioner wearing his sash is no longer a man but a statue of the law, cold, deaf and dumb.’

Hah. :D

‘but, dammit, though he’s a Royalist and the crown prosecutor, he is also a man and not, I believe, a wicked one.’

‘No’, said Danglars. ‘Though I have heard it said that he is ambitious, which is much the same.’

Oh snap. Okay I really like that line even though it’s Danglars saying it.

- All the coincidences, like the foreshadowing and the character introductions, ARE NOT SUBTLE AT ALL. Buuuut then again what are you even reading 19th C. lit for if you don’t appreciate Poignant Coincidences....

- Uggghhh all the talk about trials is disgusting. Yuck yuck yuck. Hhhhate. The sheer lack of empathy in everybody except Renée. Also Villefort, HOW IS IT ANYTHING LIKE A DUEL WTF. Let’s make a list: a) duels are supposed to be agreed upon by both parties, b) it’s supposed to be balanced, not favouring one of the parties, c) both should be facing the same risks. YOU LITERALLY HAVE NOTHING TO LOSE, YOUR OPPONENT HAS EVERYTHING ON THE LINE. ARGH.

- did I mention that I hhhate him?

‘Nowadays, the sword has been put aside and the gown is supreme: there is a wise Latin tag to that effect.’

‘Cedant arma togae,’ Villefort said, with a bow.

‘I did not dare to attempt it in Latin,’ the marquise replied.

Okay, relatable. x) (obviously I don’t like her either but)

‘So the guilty man has been arrested,’ said the marquise.

‘You mean, the accused man,’ said Renée.

Thank you, Renée, the only half decent human being in this party.

This restore to us had a revolutionary ring to the ears of the crown prosecutor’s deputy.

Fucking royalists, omg. (I do appreciate Dumas snarking about them.)

settled his features in front of the mirror into their grandest expression and sat down, dark and threatening, behind his desk.

Omg Villefort you dork.

- Also: interrogating a suspect while also thinking ahead to how cleverly you can tell people about it later: like this guy is simultaneously so relatable and so disgusting. It’s both hilarious and enraging. (Idk, it probably hits me particularly hard because he feels like such a real person.)

happiness makes even wicked men good.

Another good line.

‘To whom was it addressed?’

‘To Monsieur Noirtier, Rue Coq-Héron, in Paris.’

Oh shit... Suddenly it makes sense that Edmond ends up in prison. >_______<

- Aaaa poor Edmond has all the power here and he just doesn’t KNOW.

- I don’t have anything to say about the next chapter, just AAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaa

- This part has gotten so much harder to read as an adult tbh.

Villefort ran out but, on reaching the door, realized that the sight of a deputy crown prosecutor in such a hurry could upset the tranquility of an entire town, so he slowed to his normal pace, which was quite magisterial.

Omg this guy. I swear.

- Villefort is having his Storm Inside A Skull moment except he put HIMSELF into this situation and of course he turns out to be an Anti-Valjean if anything. It really feels like an echo of the same scene though, even to the point of being interrupted and pushed towards the final decision by someone coming to tell them that the carriage is ready.

- I don’t have much in terms of thoughts about the chapters with Louis XVIII. Mostly I just kept wondering how historically accurate this was. xD

Okay, that’s all I had. Time to read everybody else’s things!

#CoMC17 #I Tried

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