#they really stuck around long enough to see themselves become the old married couple

[capnseriouslycanadian]

“My message to Jonathan and Patrick… we need your ability to play at your top level, but also to help bring along the other guys. You’re now the founding block of culture that we want to start again.” - Head Coach Luke Richardson (Every Shift, Episode 1)

[valdomarx]

A Marriage of Convenience

Octoberfest romcom tropes day 1: fake dating

Jaskier pushed his ale aside and broke the wax seal on the letter. As he read the contents, his face pinched into a frown.

“Anything important?” Geralt asked, glancing up from his soup. 

Jaskier chewed his lower lip. “Not really. It’s from my family.” He took a breath. “They’re going to disinherit me.”

Geralt raised an eyebrow. “What did you do this time?”

Jaskier scoffed. “Nothing, thank you very much! But it’s my 35th birthday next month, and the stipulations of the Lettenhove family will are quite clear. If the oldest son isn’t married by the age of 35, inheritance passes to the next married cousin.”

“Very keen on weddings in Lettenhove, are they?”

“Rather less keen on unmarried bachelors, actually.”

Geralt grunted. “That’s too bad. I imagine a viscount’s fortune could have come in handy for you.”

“Oh, I don’t care about the money.” Jaskier waved a hand dismissively. “It’s just,” he sighed. “I have younger sisters who rely on me for support. If the inheritance goes to cousin Edward, he’ll turn them out without a penny to their names.”

“That’s unkind.”

“It is.” Jaskier slumped. He was glad to have left Lettenhove and its court intrigues behind, but the thought of his sisters being at the mercy of his greedy cousin was unconscionable. He knew too well all the terrible things that could befall a woman alone in the world.

“This will,” Geralt said, stirring his soup absentmindedly, “does it have any rules about who you have to marry?”

“No. Any old wedding will do. But it’s not like I’m going to find anyone willing to tie themselves to me in the next month.”

Geralt shrugged one shoulder. “I’ll marry you.”

Jaskier choked on his ale. “You?”

“Why not?”

“Because…” he broke off and mopped the sweat from his brow. Because I’ve been in love with you for decades. Because I’ve fantasised about you saying this in a million different ways. Because having to pretend it’s real is going to break my heart.

Geralt reached over the table and patted his hand. “It’ll just be pretend,” he said, as if that were in any way reassuring. “This is a problem easily solved. Let me help you.”

Jaskier sagged. This was going to be a disaster.

-

“This is going to be a disaster!” Jaskier paced anxiously around their room. “There are so many ways this could go horribly wrong.”

Geralt sat on the bed counting bundles of herbs. “It’ll be fine.” He was infuriatingly calm. “We’ll head to Lettenhove, have a quick wedding, get your family off your back, and be on our way. It’ll only take a few days.”

“But,” Jaskier kept pacing. “We’ll have to. You know. We’ll have to do couple things. There are certain… expectations of a newly married pair.”

Geralt got to his feet and placed his hands on Jaskier’s shoulders, stopping his anxious traipsing. “We’ll manage. Can’t be any worse than fighting drowners.”

Jaskier looked into amber eyes and felt his heart turn over in his chest. “Everyone will expect us to be holding hands, and kissing, and gods know what else. And you can’t do that.” He sighed. “You don’t even like men.”

Geralt leaned in closer, close enough that strands of his silver hair tickled Jaskier’s cheek. “I like men just fine,” he said, and pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Then Jaskier did something terribly foolish. His body moved before his mind, his feet stepping closer, his arms wrapping around Geralt’s neck. He kissed him, hard, and to his astonishment Geralt kissed him back hungrily, lips parting to allow Jaskier to taste him fully, tongue exploring, hands roaming, and by the time they broke apart Jaskier was flushed and breathing hard.

“See?” Geralt said, his deep voice sending a shiver up his spine. “We can do this.”

-

Jaskier wrote to his family to tell them the good news, and he and Geralt wasted no time in heading off to Lettenhove. The journey was long but nothing they were unused to. They traveled by day, slept under the stars by night, and Geralt even picked up a few quick contracts to help pay their way.

It was comfortable, and normal, and Jaskier could almost forget about what he was about to put himself through.

At least, until they reached the outskirts of Lettenhove and they heard the whoosh of an incoming portal. The ground shook, the air rippled, and through the rent in reality stepped Yennefer, terrifying and beautiful as ever.

She raised one perfectly arched eyebrow at them. “I hear congratulations are in order.”

Jaskier couldn’t even bring himself to come up with a snarky reply as she swept past him and went to Geralt. He stood back and watched the two of them, powerful and dazzling together, each other’s equals in capability and composure.

He had never had a chance in this competition, he thought bitterly. He would be pretending with Geralt, while she had his heart for real.

Jaskier was left at camp while Geralt and Yennefer went off to do... whatever it was they did together. (He could guess what that was.) He spent a cold, lonely night with no one but Roach for company, berating himself for feeling so hurt by something he knew from the beginning was nothing but a ruse.

-

With their arrival in Lettenhove proper, there was nothing to do but face his family. The brightest spot of his day was walking into the estate and having his sisters squeal and jump on him just as they had done as children.

He stopped laughing and caught his breath long enough to introduce them. “Essi and Priscilla, this is Geralt.” My husband to be, he thought, and something twisted inside him at that. “Geralt, these are my troublesome sisters.”

Essi dipped her head and Priscilla performed a theatrical bow. “We were wondering if Jaskier would ever settle down,” Essi said with a sly smile.

“But seeing how handsome you are, I can’t blame him!” Priscilla replied, and the two of them broke into fits of giggles. 

Geralt, for his part, took them with good humour. Where Jaskier had been expecting him to be dour, he smiled indulgently and took each of their hands in turn and pressed a kiss to their knuckles, resulting in another uproar of giggling.

“Thank you for that,” Jaskier said quietly as they made their way to the room waiting for them.

Geralt inclined his head. “Have to make a good impression on the future in-laws,” he said, the corner of his lips quirking upward in amusement. 

The rest of his family were predictable as clockwork. Cousin Edward was sour, his father was distant, and his mother was simply relieved to see him married off as was proper. Geralt sat through all of it with more patience and good grace than Jaskier would have thought him capable of.

-

The day of the wedding itself passed in a blur. With such short notice the ceremony was terribly paired down by noble standards, but still, there was the formal breakfast, the dressing in formal garments, the journey to the temple outside of the city, the clamour of priestesses and officials and his family, the exchanging of rings, the reading of texts, and of course the formal dinner.

Jaskier barely remembered any of it. Looking back, the only thing that stuck out in his mind was the feeling of Geralt’s hand clasping his own during the handfasting. And the way that, whenever he was feeling overwhelmed over the course of the day, Geralt’s hand would find his own and give a comforting squeeze. 

-

Finally the ceremonies were complete and they were left in peace in their chambers, the two of them alone for the first time all day. Geralt’s hair had been braided into two slim plaits running either side of his face, though by now they were starting to become mussed. He’d even put on a shirt of dark blue silk as opposed to his standard uniform of all black. The effect was quite stunning.

As the door closed, Jaskier’s shoulders slumped and he breathed for what felt like the first time in hours.

Geralt cupped one cheek tenderly. “You good?”

Jaskier exhaled, letting the anxiety and stress of the day slowly unwind. He looked into Geralt’s warm eyes and felt, for once, safe and unjudged. “I’m good.”

Geralt brought their lips together, soft as could be, and Jaskier’s knees shook. He grabbed Geralt’s forearms to hold himself upright and, desperate for some sort of control, some sort of meaning, he pulled him into a deep, passionate kiss. 

This was a bad idea, he was aware, but Geralt felt so good in his arms. He ran his hands through silky silver hair like he’d always wanted to, he pressed himself close to that muscled chest he’d spent more time than he should have admiring, and he moaned unrestrainedly when Geralt picked him up, locking his legs around his waist.

This was a terrible idea, he knew, but Geralt carried him over to the bed with firm, confident steps, and the temptation to touch, to hold, to kiss was overwhelming. This would only lead to heartache, but he was weak in the face of love, as always. 

Geralt laid him out and took him apart with soft lips and careful fingers and a wicked tongue, and it was everything he’d been dreaming of for years, and yet so much more intense than anything he could have imagined. Geralt was dazzling beneath him, warm amber eyes and pale scarred flesh, beautiful and kind and more than he could possibly deserve.

-

Nuptial celebrations in Lettenhove were mercifully brief, and with the ceremony completed and recorded to the satisfaction of the genealogists, they were free to depart.

There were, however, some customs which could not be avoided.

“You’ll be honeymooning nearby?” Jaskier’s mother asked, with the understanding that this was not a question.

“Actually, we thought -”

“They’ll be staying in my cottage, won’t you?” Priscilla interjected. She’d availed herself of her position, such as it was, to secure a tiny ramshackle cottage on the Kerack coast. It wasn’t opulent but it was, thankfully, far from prying eyes.

Jaskier gave her a tiny nod of thanks and she winked.

“A cottage?” His mother’s lip turned up in distaste. “How quaint.”

“And there’s ever so much to pack, so we must be on our way -” he excused himself with a bow, tugging Geralt behind him.

Out of the view of their parents, Priscilla and Essi set upon him with hugs and kisses, thanked him for saving them from the horrors of cousin Edward, and packed up an obscene quantity of cheeses and wine to take with them.

By the time they departed the estate, Jaskier was even smiling.

-

It was quiet and calm on the coast. The cottage overlooked the sea, rolling and tempestuous, and had just enough space for a kitchen, a bed, and a bath. They had everything they needed, even a stable for Roach outside.

Even though it was only for a few days, Jaskier imagined Geralt would be bored and unhappy, feeling trapped in a place so small. But he seemed content: riding along the coastline in the morning, brushing Roach out, going fishing in the afternoon, preparing the catch for their evening meal.

Jaskier showed him his favourite spices and how to prepare the fish with butter to make it rich and indulgent, and in the quiet moments he wrote poetry or simply sat on the battered chair on the porch of the cottage and watched the waves.

Geralt returned to the cottage with a net bulging with fish and a smile on his face. He’d been doing that more recently, Jaskier had noticed, smiling in a way that seemed natural and unforced. He even left his armour and swords in the cottage and waded down to the sea in just his trousers and shirtsleeves, disarmingly casual.

It was comfortable, almost domestic. 

And it was a torment, showing Jaskier a tiny glimpse of a life he’d never have.

-

Their last night on the coast, Geralt cooked the remainder of their provisions into a feast, poured the best wine they had, and set a fire in the hearth. He piled up blankets and pillows, laid down their warmest furs, and pulled Jaskier into his arms in front of the flames.

“Thank you,” he said, dotting kisses in a line up Jaskier’s neck, “for taking such good care of me.”

Jaskier fidgeted unhappily. “You’re the one doing me a favour,” he reminded him. That seemed important to remember. This was a favour from a friend, nothing more.

Geralt hummed against his neck, the vibrations rippling against his skin. “I can see some advantages to me,” he murmured, continuing his line of kisses up Jaskier’s jaw and toward his lips.

Jaskier, stupidly, allowed Geralt to turn him around, hands delicate around his waist, allowed him to bring their lips together. He allowed a kiss, soft at first, and then another, more intense, moaning into Geralt’s mouth. 

“Can I interest you in an early night?” Geralt purred in his ear, and everything in Jaskier’s body said yes, and everything in his mind said no.

Eventually, his mind won out and he pushed Geralt away. 

“No,” he said, struggling to keep his voice steady. “I can’t. I won’t. I’m sorry, Geralt, but this was a terrible mistake.”

He pushed himself to his feet, ignoring Geralt’s sad expression. He was hit by the urge to run, but there was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. Tears welled in his eyes.

“Hey,” Geralt’s voice was so soft behind him. “It’s okay, Jaskier. Whatever it is. I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable. I won’t do it again.”

Jaskier deflated. He turned to face Geralt, watery eyes and all. “That’s not the problem. I don’t want you to stop. I want this to be real.”

Geralt stood carefully still. “What do you mean, real?”

Jaskier took a breath, tried to imagine how to explain himself, how to convey what he felt. “I’m in love with you!” he snapped in the end. Not his most eloquent work, but perhaps his most honest.

Geralt tilted his head. “I know,” he said. He looked down at the ring on his finger. “Isn’t that the point?”

“The point?” Jaskier exploded. “The point!” He couldn’t stop himself from waving his arms as he ranted. “Oh, sure, I’m certain that the ideal marriage is between one person who’s hopelessly in love and one person who’s indifferent and besotted with another. I’m sure Yennefer will be delighted when she hears about this whole situation.”

Geralt’s eyes narrowed. “You think I’m in love with Yennefer?”

“Yes! Obviously!”

He paused, obviously weighing his words. “That night when she visited us outside Lettenhove, she wasn’t surprised by the news. She told me congratulations, and that it had taken long enough. I think she knew long before I did that I wasn’t in love with her, not really. My heart already belonged to another.”

Jaskier’s breath caught in his throat. “You mean… You and her, you’re not...”

Geralt shook his head. “What she most wants is something I can’t give her.”

“And you?” Jaskier asked, dreading the answer.

Geralt took his hand. “What I most want,” he stroked his thumb over the ring around Jaskier’s finger, “is something I already have.”

Jaskier’s heart leapt. It was almost too much. It was overwhelming. “You really love me?”

Geralt smiled softly. “I really do.”

Jaskier threw himself into Geralt’s lap, arms around his neck, foreheads pressed together. “Tell me again,” he said, because he was needy.

“I love you,” Geralt said, kissing down the side of his face. “I love you,” he said, lacing their fingers together against the furs. “I love you,” he said, their bodies moving together, finally free to feel with the intensity they had been hiding for so long, their scents mingling together with the fresh salt tang of the sea.

-

The sun shone brightly and the wind whipped their hair as they packed up Roach the next morning. Jaskier paused to admire the view one last time: The rolling waves, the steep cliffs, the shingled beach. 

Geralt slipped his arms around his waist from behind and dropped a kiss just beneath his ear. 

“What does our life look like now?” Jaskier asked, eyes on the waves.

He felt Geralt’s smile against his hair. “Much the same as before,” he said. “With perhaps a few improvements.”

Jaskier turned then and kissed him fully, no need to hold himself back, taking Geralt’s hand and running his fingers over the ring there.

“Ready to head back to the Path?” 

Geralt smiled, and Jaskier would never tire of that. “Ready if you are,” he said with softness in his eyes, “husband.”

[itsany62]

SteveTony - Superfamily

Here are some Superfamily fics that I love. Don’t forget to leave kudos and nice comments in every fic!

What We Learn?, by nannersmelo, 1 k >, Fluff.

“Who is this?”

“That doesn’t matter. What matters is that we have your husband, so you will listen very closely-”

“My husband Tony? Tony Stark?”

"...Yes?”

“Oh well,” Steve laughed, “good luck with that.”

Intruder, by wordscorrupt, 500 words.

Steve and Tony face a rather tiny, adorable intruder in the middle of the night.

the privilege of loving you by starklystar, 7 k > words.

“Why won’t you let me touch you?”

It’s a desperate plea, half-shouted and half-whispered, Steve’s voice cracking at the end. Tony stops in his tracks, halfway to the stairs. He doesn’t dare to turn back, and he really doesn’t want to fight, or to leave, to spend the last month of his life away from his husband and their son. But Steve can’t know, can he?

-x-

Or: Tony has palladium poisoning, but he doesn't tell Steve and Peter

ah-choo by starksnack, 3 k words, Hurt/Comfort.

Peter catches a cold at the park while Tony is away for work. Steve is all out of sorts trying to care for a sick child on his own.

The Sign by nightwalker, 2 k > words, Adoption.

Tony hadn't slept the night before and he knew Steve hadn't either. They'd just laid there, side by side, listening to each other breathe and thinking their own thoughts. Somewhere around dawn Steve had rolled onto his side and splayed his fingers over Tony's heart.

Bellflower (unwavering love) by S_Horne, 1 k > words.

“Aw, man.” Tony shook his head at himself as he finally broke. He bent down and tucked his hands underneath Peter’s armpits, hoisting him up onto his hip with a practiced ease. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“No m’not.”

Tony shook his head, straightening Peter’s shirt out where it had bunched up around his chest. “You’re in one of those moods today, aren’t you?”

Peter shook his head sagely and Tony huffed a laugh. “Not. You’re just mean.”

“I swear,” Tony said, blowing out a sigh, “if your Pops walks in and you turn into an angel, you’re grounded until you’re 50.”

a little lemonade by tonystarkssnipples, 1 k > words.

Tony came downstairs after putting Piper to sleep to find Steve with about 10 pounds of lemons spread across the table. At Tony’s footsteps, Steve looked up at him with wide eyes. “The recipe says a cup of lemon juice per gallon.”

“And?”

“I don’t know how many lemons make a cup of lemon juice.”

--or--

It's summer and Steve wants to help their daughter with a lemonade stand.

Distracted by a Dime by happyaspie, 56 k > words, Homeless Peter Parker.

Peter Parker thinks he has everything figured out. Where he can eat, sleep and make a little bit of money. What he needs to do in order to continue attending Midtown High and being Queen’s friendly neighborhood Spider-man. How to keep his entire situation under wraps and most importantly, who he can trust.

Then, along comes Tony Stark with an offer he can’t refuse. The plan is to remain professional, to not get too close to the Stark-Rogers’ family. Not getting comfortable means not slipping up and saying anything that he can’t take back.

...but for Peter- things rarely go as planned...

one makes me want another by parkrstark, 12 k > words, Adoption, Angst with a Happy Ending.

Steve and Tony adopt Peter when he's 6-years-old and 10 years later, he still thinks he's living the best life with two father doting on him. Until they tell him about the new baby they're bringing home and suddenly, the attention is all on her.

steve rogers-stark: full time dad/husband, part time spider relocator by parkrstark, 1 k > words, Spiders, Fluff.

"Love, what's wrong?" He called out, waiting for a reply.

"Steve!" Tony instantly screamed back. "Come here! I need you!"

Steve quickened his pace slightly, trying to keep himself calm so he didn't worry Peter. Babies could sense that stuff. "Where is 'here', love?"

“Bathroom!"

come morning light (we'll be safe & sound) by parkrstark, 14 k > words, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending.

After a strange mission, Steve, Tony, and Peter find themselves trapped in their own living nightmares. Some memories of their past, some they hoped to keep from even each other, and some of the worst 'what if's their minds can imagine. All they have is each other until they wake up...but is that enough to survive until they figure out how?

Gelid Feint by geekymoviemom, 21 k > words, Fluff and Angst.

Gelid: icy; extremely cold

Feint: a deceptive or pretended blow

Steve Rogers’ world had completely changed since he was discovered in the Arctic Ice. Not only had he led a team of actual superheroes to defend New York against an alien invasion, he had also found love, and the family he’d never dared to dream he could have.

So when Nick Fury asked Steve on a simple mission to retrieve materials from a hidden bunker, Steve thought nothing of it.

Until the demons he’d thought he had buried within the Red Skull’s airplane suddenly reappeared, and he was forced to face the one enemy he’d thought he had vanquished.

He had cut off one head, but now two more had taken its place.

love lives on by parkrstark, 6 > k words, Teacher Steve Rogers, Alternate Universe.

Steve doesn't like picking favorite students, but when he gets Peter in his class, he can't help it when this sweet little boy becomes his favorite. He shouldn't be surprised when one day his father picks him up, and Steve realizes that he's the son of Tony Stark...the love of his life he let go back in high school. Steve wants his second chance, even if Tony doesn't want anything to do with him anymore.

maybe love is the reason why (we're seeing it eye to eye) by parkrstark, 134 k > words, undercover as a family, Fake/Pretend Relationship.

"I'm sorry. Repeat that again." Tony leaned forward in his seat from across the table. He even stuck a finger in his ear as if he was cleaning it out. "I don't think I heard you right."

Fury rolled his eyes-- or well, eye. "You and Rogers need to go undercover as a married couple in a community out on Long Island."

--

After Civil War, Tony and Steve are sent on an undercover mission as a couple to try and find Hydra informants. Somehow, they end up with Peter as their undercover son who decides to play matchmaker even if the two of them are doing their best to ignore their feelings after Siberia.

little moments like this by parkrstark, 1 k > words, Domestic Fluff.

Steve grabs the blanket and covers himself. "Stop it! My husband will kill you!"

It takes Tony only a second to realize what Steve thinks is going on and he laughs. "Steve, it's me. Tony." He tries to take the blanket off, but Steve doesn't let him.

"Don't-- take advantage of me! My husband will kill you!"

Or, Steve is loyal to no end. Even after a night of drinking Asgardian mead.

Trapped in the Shadows by geekymoviemom, 97 k > words, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Parent Tony Stark.

All Steve Rogers wanted after a lifetime of war was to immerse himself in quiet, and solitude. Opening a bookstore seemed like the perfect answer. He could escape to any world that he desired, all while keeping his past firmly behind him, where it belonged.

Until the day Peter Stark walked in.

anytime by complicationstoo, 714 words, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Established Relationship.

Steve is there, holding Tony's sleepy one year old against his chest and stirring scrambled eggs on the stove with his free hand. He's murmuring quietly to Peter, low enough that Tony can't quite make out the words, but there's a soft smile on his face as he talks.

Tony wanders further in, sneaking up behind him and wrapping his arms around his waist. He buries his face into Steve's hair, and he can hear the grin in Steve's voice as he says, "Good morning, dear.”

How To Change A Diaper by writerstrash, 1 k > words, Established Relationship, Fatherhood.

Steve and Tony deal with a wriggly, crawly baby Peter who enjoys keeping his parents on their toes.

[meliorist-midoriya]

the meaning of “i love you”

synopsis: bakugou tries to learn the meaning of “i love you” long after it’s been told.

pairing: bakugou x reader

genre: fluff with a touch of angst and lotsa pining

warnings: brief hospital setting, mentions of injury, bakugou is bad at feelings™

glossary: Y/H/N - your hero name

word count: 4.3k

a/n: dedicated to @katsushimaa​, the reason why this blog exists. in other words: HI YSSA IT’S YOUR ☀️ ANON (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:・ﾟ♡ update (1/6/2021): this fic is also read on peachy can’s youtube channel! this is with full permission and credit, and the only work with only this channel.

“I love you.”

Bakugou stared, speechless, as you confessed to him under the cherry blossoms, diplomas in hand. His throat locked and his tongue stalled as he wordlessly gaped at you. Around words? No, he didn’t even know what to say. The wind blew the petals off the branches, shocking him out of his stupor once they obscured his vision for one precious moment. He still couldn’t find the words to respond.

He didn’t know how.

All his life, he hadn’t cared for affection. Only victory. Anyone vying for his affections soon ran crying (humiliated, if they were lucky), the unread love letter crumpled in their fists as he moved on with his life without a care. But this, he couldn’t bear letting go.

Bakugou didn’t know how to hold on, either.

For the past three years, people came to know you as his other half. The one who kept him in line, yet helped lift him to even greater heights. The one who could withstand his withering glare with a smile. The one he kept by his side. For the past three years, your relationship remained ambiguous, this ambiguity becoming the open secret of your year. Too close to be just friends, yet not quite lovers either. A deeper connection that neither of you dug into, content with your dynamic.

Until now.

A part of him loathed that you were the one to make the leap when he didn’t even know what to say, but a little voice in the corner of his mind told him that maybe, just maybe, this would finally get his ass moving.

You smiled. Softly, slowly…

Knowingly.

He had to remind himself to breathe.

“You don’t have to answer me right away, I’ll wait for as long you need.”

And with that, you were gone. Bakugou was left staring at your back as you walked away from him and, as he would later discover, out of his life for the next two years.

“Hey, Bakugou! How are you holding up? Who knew Y/N took an offer in America? Did you know? None of us did.”

Ugh, Dunce Face. It’s been a month since graduation, and three weeks since you revealed you were entering America’s pro hero scene the day before you left. You’ve always been terrible at goodbyes…

Was that why you decided to confess at graduation? Because you knew you were leaving?

“No, I didn’t know, now fuck off.”

“Rude!”

The cherry blossoms have long since fallen, slowly unfurling verdant leaves replacing the pink blooms under the shining late spring sun. Of course, not even this beautiful scene could improve his mood when he was stuck on patrol with this idiot. Their agencies were working together, so he had no choice but to go along with it.

Once he gets his own agency, he swears…

“Bakugou-senpai!” A pair of second-years clad in the U.A. uniform called out to him, waving.

Ah. He recognized these two. Stuck to him like leeches after he spoke to Class 1-A as one of the Big Three, pestering him endlessly about all the crazy shit that happened his first year and asking him to mentor them. You were the only buffer that kept him from blowing up in their face.

“Ground Zero to you, extras!”

They laughed him off (these brats) and walked up, jokingly asking for their autographs. Kaminari took them up on it, shoving the paper in his face after.

After (admittedly very little) bitching and glaring, he snatched the notepad from Kaminari’s hand, signed it, and sent them on their way, letting his gaze linger on the pair as they elbowed each other and geeked out over the signatures they just got. In a brief flash of curiosity, he tried to imagine you two during your first year, walking back to the dorms after class, but something felt… off. The atmosphere wasn’t right, the image he tried to lay over the two students ending up washed out and misshapen.

An empty feeling sunk into his bones at the thought of having that same… disconnect with you.

“Ah, feels nice, doesn’t it?” Kaminari went ignored, Bakugou still staring at the retreating backs of the excited second-years. A devilish grin split Kaminari’s face in two once he followed Bakugou’s line of sight, “What’s this, Kacchan? Reminiscing over the old days already?”

Kaminari’s teasing tone ripped him out of his thoughts and Bakugou growled, shoving the blonde’s face away as he continued stomping down their patrol route.

“I won’t say it again, Pikachu, fuck off!”

Y/H/N DOMINATES HERO CHARTS FOR THIRD TIME IN A ROW

It took Bakugou a second to translate the headline from English to Japanese in his head, but he found himself smiling down at his phone once the words clicked. He expected nothing less, it was you after all. The U.S. Hero News logo faded away with the click of his phone locking, pocketing it as he swung open the door with a loud bang.

“Would it kill you to visit more, brat? And how many times do I have to tell you, stop slamming the door open!”

“Whatever, hag!” Bakugou snapped back, dropping the box of pastries on the counter before slumping into his seat at the dining table. Masaru looked up from his laptop and smiled at his son, something behind the mirth in his eyes that Bakugou couldn’t pick out.

“Someone’s in a good mood.”

Was he…?

Yeah, you could say that.

It’s been a little over a year since that day, and the both of you have paved your own paths in the hero industry since then. Bakugou finally, finally, after a year of busting his ass and making connections, went independent and started his own hero agency. Now, he only answered to himself (and, well, the Hero Public Safety Commission) and didn’t have to be held back by any hierarchy. An added bonus was that summer was always good to him (to villains? Not so much).

You? The headline spoke for itself.

“…I guess.”

“I’m glad. Your mother’s making your favorite for lunch, since this is your first visit ever since you opened your agency,” Masaru said, and there was that damn look again. 

The soft clink of the plate being set down in front of him cut Bakugou off before he could question him, and the flow of the meal swept away any opportunity he would’ve had. He found himself silently watching his parents’ interactions as they unfolded in front of him. An easy back-and-forth, flowing smoothly from years of practice.

Bakugou nearly dropped his bowl as an old memory blindsided him. An image of you, offering him food in the U.A. cafeteria with a smile flitted across his mind’s eye.

He shoved another piece of tofu into his mouth before the thought had the chance to linger. 

The rest of lunch went smoothly (as smoothly as it could with him and his mother in the same room), and he bid his goodbyes once the dishes were done and the end of his lunch break inched closer.

“I’m rooting for you, Katsuki,” The man in question shot a perplexed look at his father before shutting the door behind him. First, the weirdly knowing look, now this? Confusing old man...

He started down the path back to the agency for patrol, letting his gaze sweep over the bustling lunchtime traffic. Normally, he would’ve been keeping an eye out for any trouble since apparently, people loved starting shit when he was conveniently off duty. Instead, his mind wandered as he observed the people around him. 

People watching, was that what this is called?

He found himself doing this more and more often lately, as dangerous as it was to let his mind wander when he was out and about. An elderly couple tottering their way out of the corner store with their arms linked, the married couple further ahead swinging their squealing child in between them, a young pair giggling like lovebirds on a honeymoon as they walked down the sidewalk. His eyes skipped over the other pedestrians and bounced from couple to couple, subconsciously trying to make sense of the three words that had stubbornly stuck themselves to his mind for the past year.

Normally, he would’ve brushed off the thoughts plaguing him for the sake of his work, but these just wouldn’t leave him alone. They left him in a confused haze, a void slowly eating a hole in his chest and leaving him feeling incomplete.

To top it all off, he kept seeing you, in every couple that passed his line of sight. Every time he saw you two instead of the couple on a date or the married pair holding their child’s hand, the void closed for a brief moment before expanding even wider the second the image dissolved, leaving him with only a deep sense of longing making a home for itself in the void. Except he had no idea what he was longing for. He knew you were okay, and that was enough.

Was it really enough?

It was like he was trying to cobble together a puzzle with no reference and some of the ends cut off, blindly slapping pieces together and hoping it worked out. Loosely forming ideas, certainties, what-ifs, all trying to be linked together by a single man that, as much as he hates to say it, had no idea what the fuck he was doing (and it would be a cold day in hell before he asked for help). 

Shouts and screams snapped him out of his daze and he glowered at the villain crashing out of a nearby store. Sparks crackled and burst into blazing heat in his palms, evaporating the melancholy haze in his head to focus on the poor soul that had crossed his path.

The half-finished puzzle slunk back to the corner of his mind, waiting for the next time he would pick up the pieces and try again.

“I would like to get to know each other more, Bakugou-san. On a date, maybe?”

He paused mid-stride and stared at his colleague in barely concealed shock, who was too busy hiding her flushed face in her scarf to look back at him. He’s known this woman barely two weeks, then she suddenly hits him with this. Yes, he was caught off guard, sue him.

They were on a coffee run, for God’s sake!

“I mean, I know our agencies are only collaborating for this short time, but I think we could make it work, don’t you?”

Whatever else she was trying to say was cut off by a strong gust of wind nearly blowing the scarf off of her neck. The autumn chill the wind carried along with it wasn’t what made Bakugou feel oddly cold despite the scalding coffee in his hands, though. No, the chill had seeped into his being the moment she had opened her mouth, a certain dread at the thought of what would happen if he said yes.

If he said yes, he would lose you.

Suddenly, he was 18 again, diplomas in hand and wearing a uniform he had cast off long ago instead of his coat. He blinked, and he was back, still staring at the flustered woman next to him as the dying leaves fell around them.

Why? Why? Why can he only see your face? Why could he only see the pink cherry blossoms of a time past, instead of the blazing red leaves the wind had kicked up? He didn’t know the reason, he only knew that this wasn’t what he wanted.

“…No, I don’t.”

What did he want?

Walking into his office to see four people staring back at him with unreadable expressions was the last thing he expected today.

“Oh, Bakugou… I’m so sorry.”

What? Why was Mina looking at him like that? Kirishima, Kaminari, and Sero too. Did he miss something?

“Look, I just came in, so whatever the fuck happened, you need to spit it out, and you need to spit it out now,” He slammed his bag on his desk and glowered at the group staring at him with- was that pity? He didn’t need fucking pity! He needed information! What the hell was going on?

“It’s all over the news, bro.” He stared at Kirishima for a second, two seconds, the dots taking longer than they should’ve to connect.

News…? News…

He hasn’t checked the U.S. news yet.

Ignoring the foreboding feeling bleeding into his soul, he rushed to take out his phone from his coat pocket, nearly dropping it from his fumbling, and he pulled up the U.S. Hero News website as fast as his numb fingers would let him. That little loading bar was testing him, he swears-

Oh.

Suddenly the snow soaking into his coat and hair wasn’t so cold, compared to the chilling horror that froze him to his very core. The world stopped moving for this second, his eyes burning from how long he was staring at those little pixels spelling out his world crumbling.

Y/H/N CRITICALLY INJURED IN BATTLE. RECOVERY UNCERTAIN.

Almost immediately, his eyes zipped through the article, over and over and why were there no details?  Did no one really know anything? He’d have to make calls, send emails, pull strings, there’s someone in the U.S. he knows, maybe they would-

“-kugou? Bakugou! Snap out of it!”

Was he being shaken? Oh. He was.

Suddenly Kaminari’s face was up in his and he almost headbutted him from the shock.

“Dude, we lost you there for a second. You read that article like twenty times! Are you okay?” He growled and actually headbutted Kaminari this time, glowering at him as he stumbled back with a bump on his forehead, “Should’ve expected that…”

“I’m fine. What happened was unfortunate, but there’s nothing we can do. Now get to work, we have a case to work on.”

“That’s… cruel, man. We all know how close you were with Y/N, don’t you think you should care a little more-” Kirishima shut up with a single glare, valuing his tongue more than whatever message he was trying to convey. Care? He did care! There were so many things that had to be done, and he had no idea how much time he had left. But this… this was his problem, and no one else’s.

“Maybe you should dry off and warm up first to make sure you don’t get sick…?” Sero waved in the direction of the locker room, and Bakugou shouldered past him wordlessly, snatching up his bag and ignoring the water stains it dripped into the carpet.

“Is he really okay…?” Kaminari whispered the moment he saw Bakugou turn the corner.

“I think we already know the answer to that.” Everyone in his office nodded in agreement with Mina.

This was going to be rough.

Several hours later found him in a hospital of all places, speaking with a doctor about one of the patients that was involved with the case his agency was tasked with. 

Wait outside her room, they said, I’ll let her know that you need to speak with her.

Waiting was the last thing he wanted to do right now. Waiting meant he had to sit still, which meant that he had time to think. Waiting meant worrying. His mood was already sour from seeing all the happy couples cuddling up under the pre-Christmas snow on his way here. What would’ve usually left him with a gaping hole in his heart, instead made dread curl in his core and send a million and one what-ifs rattling around inside his head.

He needed to calm down, he couldn’t question anyone when he’s in a mood-

“Please, whoever’s listening, hear my prayer…”

Bakugou looked up at the sound of someone praying, his eyes stopping at the sight of a man kneeling at someone’s bedside with their limp hand clasped in his. The wedding bands on their fingers gleamed in the bright artificial light. He quickly cast his eyes back down to the linoleum at his feet, but it was too late, the headline running in his head for the hundredth time today.

The image of the man praying for his wife’s recovery kept playing in his mind like a broken record and, against his will, slowly changed to the image of you. Limp and wounded in a too-big hospital bed, connected to tubing and wires with too many machines beeping.

He felt sick, the dread climbing it’s way into the void in his chest and ripping it open to make a home for itself.

Of course he would hate seeing you in a hospital bed, just like he would Kirishima or anybody else-

No. This wasn’t the same.

He was scrambling for the puzzle pieces now, his mind going into overdrive to figure out if this wasn’t the same then what the hell was it?

“Ground Zero, sir? She’s ready to see you,” The physician pulled him out of his speculating and he nodded, clearing the sudden lump out of his throat and slipping into the patient’s room. A puzzle piece clicked into place the moment he saw her sitting up in her hospital bed, awake.

He wanted you to be okay.

He wanted you.

Bakugou found himself praying as he laid in bed that night.

The steady ticking of his clock roused him before his alarm did, a rhythmic metronome that dug into his eardrums and yanked him out of his deep sleep. Bakugou sat up with a groan, glaring holes into the damn thing like it had personally offended him for waking him up so early, mocking him with the time he was not supposed to be up at.

4:27 AM.

Wonderful.

Is going back to sleep an option…?

The restless energy that threatened to shake him out of his skin if he so much as held his breath was answer enough, and he swung his legs out of bed with a frustrated huff to go about his morning routine. An early start it is. The minutes passed as he went through the motions, coming back to his senses as he pulled out his phone while the coffee brewed and opened an app with practiced ease. Ease gained from opening it almost thrice daily for months.

He normally wasn’t a coffee drinker, but he would do anything if it pulled the void from his bones.

New hero, villain arrest, villain arrest, hero scandal, villain arrest, crime ring bust, hero scandal…

No news of you.

There hadn’t been news of you for the past four months, and Bakugou was slowly losing it. All the people he reached out to gave him vague answers or dead ends and only confirmed one thing: you were alive. 

At the time, it felt like Atlas had taken the sky back to carry on his own shoulders so Bakugou could finally breathe, only to dump it back on him the moment his relief wore off and he started trying to fill in the blanks.

You were alive, but were you okay? Were you in a coma? Wounded beyond repair? Put out of commission?

He shut off his phone, cutting off his train of thoughts, and filled his mug before making his way over to the balcony. Calloused fingers slowly traced over the books neatly placed on the bookshelf next to the balcony window, the early dawn light bathing the titles in a soft glow. He paused as the sunlight glinted off of a certain title printed in gold. Another memory rose from the depths as he read the title over, this time from that hellish first year at UA.

He let it, this time.

“I don’t want to read some fucking romance story.” He spit the words out like they were foul, scowling into thin air as you walked beside him, the book in your hands.

“Come on, Bakugou! It’s really good! You don’t even know what it’s about!” A glance down earned him your puppy eyes, and he begrudgingly conceded.

“…What is it about, then?”

“It’s a story about a girl that had to learn what emotions were, and the one that waited for her.”

You had shoved it into his hands anyway, and he never found the chance to give it back. 

A hesitant pause, then he slipped the book out of its space, wincing at the dust that billowed off of the cover. No harm in picking this up to read along with his coffee as long as it kept him from checking the news again.

His subconscious laughed at him as it picked up the puzzle again, slowly trying to piece it together as he opened the book to the earmarked page.

There was time for a quick read, right?

Wrong.

So, so wrong.

He ended up becoming immersed in the book, so drawn in by something about the story he couldn’t quite put his finger on, that he nearly ended up being late to work.

Nearly. Bakugou Katsuki didn’t do late.

He swung the door open right as the clock struck 8:50, brushing cherry blossoms out of his hair with a quiet grumble as he walked into his agency. He stopped short at the familiar (too familiar) sight of his friends grouped together, whispering to each other urgently.

“What do we do?”

“Just…tell him?”

“And get blown up because he decides not to believe us? Yeah, right!”

Secrets. Again. The last time this happened…

Nope, not going through that fucking song and dance again.

“Decide not to believe what?” They stiffened in shock and turned toward him with sheepish smiles. His scowl deepened, the scene reflecting one from this past winter too closely for comfort.

“H-Hey, Bakugou, what’re you doing here?” Kirishima, Mina, and Sero all groaned in unison as Bakugou cocked a doubtful brow at Kaminari’s godawful cover-up. He’d indulge him, for now.

“I fucking work here. What the fuck are you dumbshits doing next to the receptionist’s desk?” They floundered for an answer, and the receptionist himself stepped in with a polite, paper-thin smile.

“You have a guest waiting in your office, sir. I sent them in ahead of you.”

“That’s all you idiots-“ A pointed look, “-needed to say in the first place,” He resisted the urge to sigh at the people he begrudgingly called his friends. Fixing the bag on his shoulder, he turned on his heel to start in the direction of his office, “Probably that patient from the winter case again. See you.”

He made a mental note to give his receptionist a raise, especially since he had to deal with those idiots on the daily.

They watched him disappear into the hallway in stunned silence, Sero eventually breaking the silence to weakly voice the one question they all knew they were thinking.

“Who’s going to tell him it isn’t Mrs. Nakamura?”

The receptionist heaved a quiet sigh as he sat back down at his desk. He didn’t get paid enough for this.

“I already told you, Mrs. Nakamura, we’ll let you know if there’s any upda-” Bakugou’s words died on his tongue once he stepped into his office, his bag dropping to the ground with a dull thud that he didn’t acknowledge, “…You’re not Mrs. Nakamura.”

“I’m not.”

A soft laugh. How long has it been since he’s heard it last?

He watched as you slowly stood up from where you had been watching the cherry blossoms outside, not missing the slight wince and the bandages you were swathed in as you did so. It was the only thing holding him back from crushing you in a hug right then and there-

Wait, a hug? Since when?

Bakugou had the sense to get himself together and picked his bag up from off the floor, kicking the door shut as he did. Heart beating out of his chest, he walked over to meet you in the middle of his office. He felt the void in his chest filling, but there was something that was keeping it from completely healing over. He knew what it was, but how would he-

“You’re here?”

“I’m here.”

His head was spinning. You were here. You were more bandages than skin but you were here. You were okay. The weight lifted off of his shoulders again and, despite the relief flooding him, he managed to choke his response out, wincing at his tone.

“Why now?”

“Well, you probably saw, but I got my ass handed to me-” Bakugou couldn’t help the incredulous snort that slipped, tossing his bag onto the table. That’s putting it lightly, “-and my contract with the agency was almost over anyway, so I got sent home for the rest of my treatment and physical therapy.”

“That’s…good.” There were words he had to say. What were they, what were they? Hurry up you idiot-

“Um, I know this is sudden, but do you remember… at graduation…”

Of course you would beat him to it again.

“I remember, and I… think I have an answer.” His ears felt hot as you laughed again, but this time he saw the tenseness in your shoulders, wound up from nerves. A step closer (it felt right), and suddenly he was in front of you, nearly buzzing with anticipation.

“You think? Lay it on me, then,” You (tried) to give him a reassuring grin, the sight of you with the cherry blossoms outside painting an all too familiar image. His breath caught before he could get his words out, his heart beating the breath he would’ve used out of his lungs and no not again not now-

This time… This time he would have the words to answer.

“It took me two goddamn years to get this far, so you better fucking listen, and listen well.”

“I’m listening, Katsuki.”

How three little words could feel so foreign on his tongue was beyond him, but deep down, he had a feeling that it was right. Your brilliant smile after made everything worth it anyway, and he felt the longing void in his chest finally knit itself together. Another puzzle piece clicked into place, placed by your own hands this time. The picture was far from finished, but at least now he had you by his side to help him put it all together.

He still wasn’t entirely sure what love was, but he was sure of one thing.

He wanted to learn with you.

[write-r-die]

Prisoner - Part 14

February, 1067

Henry Cavill is a respected Norman baron who has been tasked with finding Lady Thomasin, an ill-tempered Saxon noblewoman, and returning her to London so the king can marry her off to a cruel Norman invader. The two grow close during the long journey, and Henry puts his own life in danger (more than once) to protect the woman he loves.

Masterlist

This chapter sucks but it’s about to get super good!

Thomasin went straight to church in the morning to confess. She liked and trusted Elaine, but she wasn’t comfortable sharing her innermost thoughts with her yet, especially since her daughter was likely to eavesdrop. 

Not that she particularly trusted William’s priest to keep her confidence, especially considering what she planned to confess.

Her conversation with Charlie pricked at her mind like a sewing needle hidden in a bed might prick at her body.

Thomasin lowered herself to her knees and made the sign of the cross. “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been three months since my last confession.” It was the custom to confess at least once a month, but the past year’s events had altered everyone’s routines.

“What are your sins, daughter?”

“I have been unkind. I have blasphemed. I have not loved my neighbors. I have not kept the Sabbath day. I have been . . . amorous.” These were mostly the same sins as usual, but the amorousness was a new addition thanks to that week she spent in Henry’s lap. “That’s all I can remember.”

“Are you sure of that?” asked the priest.

Thomasin took a deep breath. “No. I have not yet - that is, I’m considering another sin. You won’t betray my confidence, Father, will you? That must surely be a sin. Is it not?”

“It is. No, child, I won’t betray your confidence and share your secrets. What is this sin you consider?”

“I’m thinking of . . . lying . . . to the king.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the curtain. “Explain.”

All at once, Thomasin’s story came rushing out starting with the night the Cavills took her prisoner to Charlie’s idea that she lie to the king about her virginity. “And I know I mustn’t bear false witness against my neighbor, but I am not bearing false witness against my neighbor, only myself. You see?”

The priest was silent for a long time. “Would it truly be so bad to marry Lawrence?”

“Yes!” He drove his wife to commit self-murder. Didn’t he? He didn’t seem actively cruel. Did he truly become so angry that he beat his wife until she lost the child in her belly? It seemed to Thomasin that he couldn’t be bothered to do such a thing, that he didn’t feel anything strongly enough to act in such a way – to act at all, really.

“I think so,” Thomasin amended. “I can’t be sure. But it cannot be good.” Of that, she was quite certain. 

“Is that the only reason you don’t wish to marry him?” asked the priest.

“There’s Henry, too, of course.” She swallowed hard. “I cannot bear the thought of Henry being with someone else.” The words stuck in her dry throat like fish bones. Lord. That was the first time she’d admitted it. It was painfully true. The idea of Henry bedding another woman, her bearing his children – it made her sick to her stomach. 

The priest sighed. “It is never easy to follow God’s laws. We all must make sacrifices to enter His Kingdom, for the road to Heaven is narrow and steep.”

“You think I ought to marry Lawrence? Don’t you know what happened to his last wife?”

“Seek solace in the spiritual world. Devote yourself to God. It is through Him that you will find comfort and joy.”

Thomasin had to literally bite her tongue to keep from lashing out. Wouldn’t God want His children to be happy? Didn’t He want Lawrence to be punished?

The priest told her to recite certain prayers to atone for her sins. She thanked him as graciously as possible and nearly stomped out of the chapel. 

She was being childish, she knew, but she could not help it. Most girls were married off at fourteen to men they did not know. She was some twenty years old and unwed. She spent her life being coddled and guarded by her father. And now she was a piece of chattel to be traded by men who did not know her or care for her wellbeing. 

She knew in her heart that Henry wouldn’t let that happen. He’d give his arm for her if she asked him to. But it might not be enough. 

She believed that he was a finer swordsman that Lawrence – better than even King William, perhaps – but she also believed his honor made him vulnerable. Henry might be the finer warrior, but she suspected Lawrence had a great and dark mind. That could be just as dangerous. Sometimes more so.

Henry ordered her to let him deal with the matter. It was the only thing he ever truly asked of the woman he held so dearly and treated with such generosity and respect. But if it was in her power to preserve the life and limb of the man to whom she owed her own, how could she not? Surely he would understand. He must.

***

The next few days numbered among the most difficult in Thomasin’s life. She felt sick even after her courses passed; she’d worked herself into a fine state. She had an episode like this when she was young, around the time of her mother’s death. The healer, a monk, called it hysteria. She’d been blessedly free of it since then – it didn’t even happen when her father got sick – but now it was back, and it would not go away.

One of the Saxon prisoners died – of what, Thomasin did not know – and two more pledged their loyalty to William, even though it meant giving up everything they owned, including their dignity. They made their pledge in front of the entire court just before supper.

Thomasin and Henry were seated at the table at opposite sides, one chair over from each other. They could steal glances at one another during the meal, but they could not speak. Thomasin supposed that was the point. 

Lawrence had taken to sitting next to her most nights. They didn’t speak. Lawrence had ceased with the pleasantries after her comment about his last wife. He ignored her as much as possible, but he sneered whenever she spoke. 

Thomasin understood that he didn’t want this any more than she did, but he needed a wife to produce heirs and Thomasin was a gift from the king. He couldn’t refuse. He did still get pleasure out of the arrangement, for seeing him with Thomasin upset Henry to the point where he could hardly hold back his anger. Between Henry’s jealousy and Thomasin’s feistiness, conquering her was sure to be excellent sport.

The Saxon knights came forward and fell to their knees before the king and his wife and made their pledges. The other Saxons in attendance – mostly women, but a handful of warriors and former nobles that pledged themselves to the Normans early on – showed a range of emotions. Some of the men applauded their brothers for being sensible; others appeared to be ashamed. Most of the women looked like the wanted the whole thing over and done with, especially Elaine, who knew most of the Saxon prisoners either from tending their wounds or meeting them at court before the Norman invasion.

Henry’s reaction was surprising. He glared at the trencher of food in front of him, nostrils flared and jaw clenched as though he were the one being forced to swallow his pride. Thomasin made no effort to hide her concern, and neither did Charlie.

He, of course, knew about Cerdic’s presence in the dungeon, and he worried that Henry would allow his emotions to get the best of him. Frankly, he didn’t understand why Henry was so upset. He thought Cerdic was dead already; soon enough he would be. Perhaps he was feeling guilty for his part in the conquest. Thomasin had his head in knots. 

During the applause that followed the oaths, Henry shoved away from the table and made a beeline for the main doors without offering any excuse or explanation.

Thomasin looked quizzically at Charlie, who sat directly across from her. He shook his head. She stood up and went after him anyway.

The large corridor was mostly empty, except for a young couple kissing deeply in a shadowed corner and a handful of female servants walking back and forth between the hall and the kitchens. They gossiped as they walked, paying no attention to those around them.

“Henry,” Thomasin called, scurrying over to him. He had his shoulder leaned against the wall and he was rubbing his face with his hand.

He looked up at the sound of Thomasin’s voice and gave a weary smile. “You should not have followed me,” Henry said, trying to sound stern; he just sounded tired. He caught sight of his ring hanging from the chain around Thomasin’s neck. He held it in his hand, still hanging from her neck, and smiled slightly. 

“You followed me when I ran off in the woods,” she said. “I’m only returning the favor.”

“Or exacting your revenge,” Henry teased.

Thomasin shrugged her narrow shoulders and repeated Henry’s earlier words back to him. “It’s a matter of perspective.”

“This looks very fine on you,” Henry said of the ring. 

“Will you have a pendant made for me like your brothers’ wives and your mother?”

“Patience,” he said teasingly. In fact, he had commissioned a jeweler shortly after arriving in London, though the piece’s production was delayed because Henry didn’t have his ring to show the jeweler. Instead, he had to provide the man with his shield so he could study the symbols painted on it. It wouldn’t be very pretty, he thought, but as long as it was recognizable it didn’t matter.

He knew better than to seek to borrow Charlie’s ring when he arrived. He would lend it to Henry if he asked him to, but he’d certainly put up a fuss about it.

And then he remembered the Saxon awaiting his death three floors below them.

Henry’s smile faltered. 

“What’s wrong?” Thomasin murmured. 

Seeing Cerdic, simply knowing that he was alive and nearby, upset Henry. As far as he could tell, the man was a boar, and it would be no great loss to the world for him to die. But it still bothered him.

Cerdic didn’t know about Henry’s relationship with Thomasin, her betrothal to Lawrence, or even that she was at court. He had no fondness for Thomasin, it seemed, and he would certainly not treat her with respect if they were wed, but he was still a living reminder of the life the Normans stole from her. That Henry stole from her. He sometimes felt that Thomasin was as much a prisoner as her former intended.

She cared for Henry, of course, but he wondered how much of her affection was true – true, in that it would still be there if she were free of Norman rule – if she had the option to return home to her father and go on living as she did before.

More than that, he worried how Thomasin would feel if she knew Cerdic was here. He swore Roger and Charlie to secrecy, of course. Lawrence didn’t know of his intended’s former relationship with the red-bearded prisoner – if he did, he would surely use that information to inflict pain.

“The Saxons . . .” Henry shook his head. “I’m so tired of all this fighting.”

Thomasin took a deep breath knowing she was about to start a fight. “Then why do you insist on fighting Lawrence?”

Henry’s nostrils flared in anger; he let the ring fall back into place. “Don’t start.”

“I’m not trying to start anything,” she said apologetically. She stepped closer as he started pacing in a circle, one hand on his hip as he rubbed his brow with the other. His hair, still short by Saxon standards, was a small pile of tumbling curls stacked atop his head. But he still looked so handsome. “I just . . . I’m just . . .”

“Just what?”

“I’m frightened! All right?!” How dare he make her say it out loud?

Henry stopped pacing. He tried to soften his features, but he was still stiff with nervousness. “It will be all right, Tom. Nothing will happen to you.”

“I don’t care about me!” she hissed. “I want to protect you just as much as you wish to protect me. Why won’t you let me?”

Henry was lost. “How?”

Kal let loose a warning bark that nearly made Thomasin jump. She hadn’t even realized he was in the hall with them. “Go,” she said to Henry. “I need a moment to compose myself.”

Henry slipped past her just as Lawrence came into view, carrying a goblet of wine in one hand and holding the other behind his back. Henry tensed his muscles so hard he nearly shook. Thomasin nodded silently to assure him that she was all right. Henry stomped back into the hall as Lawrence took a long drink from his goblet of wine.

“Would you like some?” he asked Thomasin.

“No, thank you.”

“Very well.” He tapped his fingernail against the rim of the glass. “You remember the nobleman’s family that I put to death?” he asked, lifting the cup to his lips again.

What sort of a question was that? “Yes.”

“Do you think they would’ve been better off alive, surrounded by lustful soldiers?” Lawrence asked calmly. “Do you think the baroness would be pleased to see her young daughters beaten and defiled in the same home where she was once mistress? It was a mercy killing in some ways.”

Thomasin was silent. She’d considered such questions for months after the Normans landed up until the night Henry lifted her out of her hiding place. She always concluded that she would rather be dead than passed around like a brood mare. 

 “You’d never have been so lucky. That would’ve been your fate if the king weren’t so set on bringing your brother to heel, which he clearly cannot, and if anyone but the Cavills had come for you, you would’ve been tied and beaten into submission and raped nightly, not carried about like a babe with your virtue intact.”

“I know that,” Thomasin snapped. What was his point? “Are you truly surprised that I might wish to marry someone who would treat me well? Someone I know would never raise a hand to me?”

“I won’t deny that I struck my wife on more than one occasion,” Lawrence said. “She came to me when she was fifteen years old. Still a child in need of discipline. You’re more intelligent, more mature, and I think you will know better than she did. I was not the source of all her troubles, as much as you might like to think so.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I dislike the way that you fawn over Henry and regard me as the most heinous of villains. You should be grateful for your good fortune. You’re betrothed to a man capable of mercy toward women.” 

Beating his wife was mercy? He likely just meant that he wouldn’t take her against her will, and that was a great mercy indeed for women. Beating wasn’t so heinous, Thomasin supposed, but that didn’t mean she was all right with it.

“What do you care what I think?”

“I don’t. I care about whether or not my peers perceive me as weak, though, and I won’t have a wife who runs after another man anytime he frowns.” His voice remained even but his whole face had gone bright red with anger. “We’re to be wed next week. Once you are mine, I won’t tolerate such behavior. A wife obeys her husband in all things; you will not embarrass me by fawning over a weakling. Should you continue to do so, I won’t hesitate to show you my displeasure. Am I clear?”

The calm with which he spoke was unsettling. God’s truth, Thomasin would have felt better if he shouted. 

Thomasin dipped her head. “I understand, my lord.”

Lawrence’s face returned to its normal color and a smile bloomed across his face. “Good.” He gave Thomasin a peck on the cheek. “Sleep well, my beloved.”

She didn’t notice Elaine and her daughter standing nearby until Elaine called out to her. “Thomasin?” She scurried over to her friend. “Are you all right?” Thomasin swallowed back the lump in her throat and nodded. “Here. Come with me.” She released her grip on Mercia to pull Thomasin around a corner for greater privacy, squeezing her hands reassuringly. “What’s happened?”

Thomasin didn’t realize all the color was gone from her face or that she was quaking like a leaf. “I’m fine.”

“Mamma?” Mercia said.

“A moment, my love,” her mother told her. “She was falling asleep at the table; I was leaving to put her to bed,” she explained to Thomasin. “I didn’t mean to listen in on your conversation.”

“I don’t care about that,” Thomasin said, shaking her head.

“I didn’t hear anything clearly,” Elaine said over her. “I only saw that he was talking to you and the look on your face.”

Mercia wasn’t paying attention to what the women were saying, she only saw the sadness in Thomasin’s eyes. “Why you crying?” she asked, eyebrows knit together. Thomasin noticed for the first time how cherubic the child appeared.

“I’m not crying.” Thomasin honestly didn’t think she was. And she wasn’t really, in that there were no tears, but she certainly looked distressed.

The child wouldn’t accept the non-explanation. “Mamma, why she crying?”

Elaine released her friend’s hands and crouched to look her daughter in the eye. “Go back inside, please. Lady Thomasin and I are speaking. I’ll take you to bed just as soon as we’ve finished.”

“But she sad!” Mercia objected. She looked around. “Where Bear? Bear make you happy. I go find!” She was still upset with Kal for assaulting Batty, but she trusted in his ability to bring joy to others.

“No, no, that’s all right,” Thomasin said with a sniffle. “I don’t want to bother him.” The last thing she needed was for Henry to be involved.

Mercia frowned for a moment before thrusting her doll up toward Thomasin’s face. “Take,” she commanded. “Batty make you feel better.”

Thomasin swallowed again and reached out numb fingers. She couldn’t remember the last time she held a doll. “Thank you.”

“Not for always,” Mercia said, holding up a finger. “You keep just until you feel better.”

“I understand. Thank you.”

Elaine and Mercia walked Thomasin back to her room. Elaine gave Etheldreda some instructions. “Mercia, can Lady Thomasin borrow some of Batty’s magic?”

“Just a little bit,” Mercia agreed.

Elaine smiled in thanks. She tore the doll open just enough to pull out some of the dried lavender, which she instructed Etheldreda to put in hot water for Thomasin to drink. “It will keep you from getting upset. I’ll send along some more herbs to help you rest. And more of Batty’s magic,” she assured her daughter. She turned back to Thomasin. “It won’t seem so bad in the morning. A good night’s sleep always helps.”

“I don’t think I can shut my eyes,” Thomasin said.

Elaine smirked. “Sleeping drafts are my specialty.” She didn’t mention that the drafts were the only thing that kept her from going mad when the Normans arrived. Without them, she’d spend all night staring up at the ceiling, clutching her daughter to her chest, praying for mercy from God and the invaders both. 

She slipped away to put Mercia to sleep while Etheldreda prepared Thomasin for bed she sent a servant back with a pack of herbs for Etheldreda to make a sleeping draft and a handful of lavender to replace Batty’s stuffing.

Thomasin watched the fire flicker until the draft was ready. Etheldreda watched her drink, ensuring she drained every drop. Thomasin wiped her mouth with the back of her wrist.

“Lie down,” said Etheldreda.

Thomasin shuffled down in the bed as her maid drew the covers over her. “Etheldreda, have you ever been married?”

She nodded. “Twice.”

“Did you love your husbands?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Did they ever beat you?”

The old woman frowned. “Peasant women can be lucky on occasion. Sometimes we get to choose our husbands.” She tucked Batty under the covers beside Thomasin. “Shut your eyes and rest.”

“I don’t feel tired,” Thomasin said skeptically. She was asleep moments later.

**

Thomasin woke around noon the following day. She was still in a daze, so she decided to keep to her rooms for the day. She’d go visit Henry once she was feeling better.

Etheldreda drew her a steaming bath to ease her into the waking world. She washed and brushed her mistress’s hair, as there was too much of it for Thomasin to manage on her own. She told little stories about her daughters and granddaughters. She had sons, too, Thomasin thought, but she didn’t talk about them. Thomasin guessed they were killed in the war.

A servant dropped off some bread and cheese so Etheldreda and Thomasin did not need to leave the room for their nooning meal. Thomasin did feel better, she thought as Etheldreda laced the back of her simple gown. 

The servant had only just finished when someone pounded on the door so hard that it shook. “Thomasin!” It was Charlie’s voice.

She pulled the door open, knowing immediately that something bad had happened. “What is it?”

Charlie’s shoulders heaved as he breathed heavily; he’d clearly run from wherever he had been to Thomasin’s room. “Henry’s challenging Lawrence.”

“Today?”

“Now!” Charlie said. “If you want to help him, we must go.”

Thomasin didn’t even stop to put on her slippers. She ran alongside Charlie, damp hair loose and whipping around her. The people they passed looked at her like she’d gone mad. Maybe they thought she was drunk for presenting herself in public like that. Or a strumpet.

They finally reached the throne room.

Charlie shoved the doors open and Thomasin rushed inside. Henry had removed his glove and prepared to throw it down; Thomasin surged forward and managed to grab it out of his hand before he could and careened toward the dais and the king.

She fell so heavily on her knees that she scraped the skin. She’d have awful bruises tomorrow. It didn’t matter.  She stared up at the king with enormous eyes. “Your grace, they can’t fight,” she gasped. “Please don’t let them fight.”

“Thomasin,” Henry snarled.

“There’s no need for them to fight,” Thomasin said over him. She refused to turn and look at him.

William raised an eyebrow. “No need? Does this mean you’ll marry Lawrence willingly?”

“Absolutely not.” Her tone was far too harsh but she prayed William would excuse her given the circumstances. “But – I cannot be his wife. Not truly.”

William asked, “Why?”

Oh, God help her. This stupid, stupid girl. Charlie’s plan might not work but she at least had to try.

“Because. Because I’m not – I’m – I’m not a virgin!”

[morosemagick]

What Happens Here | Finan x OC One Shot

Prompt: There's Only One Bed (as joked about with @emilyhufflepufftlk!) Title Inspired by the song "What Happens Here" by Zara Larrson!

Warning: Recreational Drinking & Smut. Lots of Smut

Words: 4318

Tagged:

@solinarimoon @emilyhufflepufftlk @magravenwrites @lauwrite1225 @obipoelover @thebohemianpenguin @axe-does-writing @for-bebbanburg

She wasn't sure why she was here. Well, she was, Sigrid's baby brother was getting married this weekend. Her family followed many old norse traditions (never mind the fact that his fiance was Christian) so weddings in their family were a big deal. When her brother, Sihtric, called Sigrid to tell her the news he all but begged her to come home for the wedding.

They were the only family that mattered, In each other's eyes, it was a big deal for her to go home.

So she did.

Sihtrics' fiance made plans for the wedding party to stay in the same house for the whole weekend. The wedding party included all their friends… all of which are either married or dating each other.

One, then, would understand just how awkward it is when Sigrid finds out she'll be sharing a room with the only other single person in the party.

Her brother's best friend, Finan.

She didn't know much about the guy other than the fact that they went to Uni together, and that she just beat him out for best man.

Talk about being set up for disaster.

"Sigrid, I didn't realize you would make it in time," Sihtric tried to apologize privately after his fiance, Ealhswith, broke the news, but Sigrid just wasn't having it, "Maybe we'll ask one of the guys to just.. double up or something."

"Your entire wedding party is couples, Sihtric, you can't just ask them to not share a room with their partner," Sigrid argued as she slumped into a chair in her brothers' suite, "I can go to a hotel, it's fine."

"You're my sister, I want you here," Sihtric told her with a sad look, "Let me talk to Finan when he gets here."

"Tell me the room has a couch, at least?" Sigrid asked him and the look he gave her was not very comforting, "Why are you like this?"

"It's one weekend, Sigrid, please! I get married tomorrow," Sihtric walked over to his sister and got on one knee as he begged her, "all you have to do is play nice-"

"I am always nice!" Sigrid argued with a smirk across her face, but seeing the puppy dog look on her brother's face was enough for her to oblige, "Fine! I'll share the room, but he's sleeping on the floor."

"Thank you, Sigrid!" Sihtric smiles as he jumps to hug her, making the chair fall over.

Sigrid laughed as they fell, hugging him back, "Alright, alright! Let's get going, I need a drink!"

"I'm sure Ealhswith has started the party without us," Her brother laughs as they both get up, and fix the chair before heading down to the main living space of the house

————————————<3—————————————

Finan gets to the house last and everyone is starting to drink without him. Since everyone is drinking, no one sees him sneak in, finding Uhtred in the kitchen.

Uhtred was another groomsman, as well as Sihtric's cousin.

"Uhtred?" Finan questions as he finds his friend, who smiles at the sight of him, "Good lord, what have you done to your hair?"

The last he saw his friend, Uhtred had long hair with the sides shaved and the rest shoved in a high ponytail. Now that was gone too and the long hair cut short.

"Ah, Gisela did not want me to look like a heathen for my cousin's wedding," Uhtred chuckles as he greets his friend with a handshake, "How was the drive?"

"Long," Finan huffs with a smile, "Where's my room? I need to change."

"Your room," Uhtred snickered as he pulled out a bunch of shot glasses from a cabinet, "Someone should have been here earlier.. you would have had a better pick."

Finan scrunches his brows, "Why- where am I?"

Uhtred glances his way and shrugs, turning back to what he was doing, "You should be asking who you are with."

"Seriously? Sihtric wants me to share a room?" Finan questioned Uhtred, who snickers his breath as he found a bottle and started to pour them shots, "With who? No one else is staying here."

"The best man," Uhtred explained with a smirk on his lips, "You'll be fine."

Finan took one of the shots and downed it quickly, Uhtred already filling his glass, "I thought Sihtrics' best man wasn't coming tonight?"

"Apparently they made the flight," Uhtred tells him as he puts the rest of the shots on a tray to carry to the other room.

Finan didn't know much about the man who managed to upstage him as best man for his best friend's wedding, other than they were siblings. One he hadn't seen in a long time. It's hard to be mad at being picked over family, except for when you've known the guy for 5 years, and not once has he mentioned having a brother.

But it was not Finan's wedding, it was Sihtrics'.

Uhtred and Finan make their way into the main living room just as Sihtric and a woman Finan has never seen before enters the room. Sihtric drags her closer to the group of couples who make up the rest of the wedding party, and points to the woman, "Everyone, you remember my sister? Sigrid, this is the rest of the wedding party."

A sister?

Finan only learned about a brother… but a sister? He had no idea.

"It's nice to see everyone, again," Sigrid says with a chuckle and a slight wave, looking around at everyone in the room.

As her eyes meet Finan's, he can feel his heart drop to his feet. She's fucking gorgeous.

Uhtred puts the tray of shots down on the coffee table in the middle of the room, and everyone else reaches over to grab a shot.

"Wait!" Uhtred shots before anyone has a chance to take their shot, "Perhaps the maid of honor and best man should say a few words?"

Gisela; Uhtred's wife and Ealhswith's maid of honor, is first to stand, "To Sihtric and Ealsie! We all wish you many happy years together!"

Gisela then glances at Sigrid, and for a moment Finan is really confused.

That is... until she starts to speak.

"To my baby brother and his wife to be," Sigrid adds as she raises her shot glass, "Anyone who can put up with Sihtric is a saint, we are happy to have you become one of us, Ealhswith." Ealhswith wipes a tear from her face as Sigrid tips her glass just slightly, "Cheers!"

The rest of the party yells cheers, except for Finan, who's frozen in place looking mighty confused.

"You alright there, Finan?" Asks Osferth, Sihtrics' childhood friend and another groomsman, as he walks over and nudges his arm.

"I am… lost," Finan explains as he raises the shot glass to his lips.

"Oh, I should've told you," Uhtred puts his hand on Finan's shoulder and smirks, "Sihtrics' sister is his best man."

The words come out of Uhtred's mouth just as Finan takes his shot, causing the Irishman to choke on his liquor.

"She's what?!"

————————————<3—————————————

"He's handsome isn't he?" Gisela whispers to Sigrid as she lifts the cocktail to her mouth.

"Who?"

"Finan, Sigrid, are you not listening!" Ealhswith tries to whisper but she's a bit tipsy so it's not really as quiet as she intends.

Sigrid glances over her future sister-in-law's shoulder at the men, who are currently in the middle of a drinking contest. From the looks of it, Sihtric is not winning.

Next to her brother, cheering him on is Finan. There's a big, cheeky, smile on the Irishman's face as he encourages Sihtric to keep drinking and for just a moment, she can see his eyes glance her way.

Okay, maybe they are onto something.

Finan is tall with longish hair and a thick beard. Sigrid guesses he must work out with just how his broad his shoulders are, and his even broader chest… and those arms-

Okay, fine. He's gorgeous. They win.

But she won't tell them that, "Yeah. He's alright."

"Oh come on," Eadith chuckles, playfully shoving Sigrid's side, "Most of us would like a piece of that Irish-"

"Eadith!" Gisela gasps with a smile.

"What," Eadith shrugs, "I have eyes, I can use them."

"Osferth doesn't satisfy enough, Eadith?" Sigrid smirks, leaning back on the couch. They were an odd couple, Eadith and Osferth, but the two of them seemed to really work in sync.

"Oh he satisfies just fine," Eadith raises a brow as she takes a sip of her drink, "There is nothing I would change about how that man performs in bed."

"Alright- I've heard enough," Sigrid raises her hand as she leans forward to put her drink down and the other girls boo her and laugh at her embarrassment, "I need to piss, and you ladies need water."

"Ah, come on, Sigrid, don't be a prude!" Ealhswith whines as Sigrid starts to rise from her seat.

"I draw the line on sharing sex life secrets of men I've known since I was a child," Sigrid laughs as she gets to her feet and heads for the bathroom.

When she gets to the bathroom, she wets her face a bit to cool herself down, grateful she isn't wearing much makeup. After a deep breath, she starts to open the door to leave, and on the other side waiting is Finan.

"Oh, I didn't realize-"

"No it's fine," Sigrid tells him as she tries to go around him awkwardly. He doesn't move much, so they are pretty close to each other as Sigrid tries to go around but instead of moving they both find themselves stuck chest to chest in the doorway.

She's never been a shy woman, but she usually isn't the one to make the first move. So tonight, she's lucky she's tipsy because now she has all the confidence she needs to do whatever stupid thing she wishes.

Include flirting with this man.

"So you're the man I'm supposed to share a bed with," Sigrid smirks as her chest rises and falls with every deep breath she takes.

Finan raises a brow, "I thought it was just a room."

"I don't know if you've been in there yet," Sigrid glances down the hall to make sure no one is coming, and then looks back at Finan, "But there's only one bed."

"What a shame," Finan tells her as he leans forward, stopping right as he hovers her lips, "Looks like you'll be on the couch."

Sigrid doesn't break eye contact as she takes a deep breath and then smirks, "What couch?"

He leans back with eyebrows scrunched and a semi smile on his face, and Sigrid takes that moment to wink and walk away.

She has no idea how she's expected to spend the night alone with this man.

————————————<3—————————————

Finan is fucked.

More than fucked.

He's been trying to fight the urge to flirt with his best friend's sister all night, because… you know... best friend's sister.. and then he runs into her by the bathroom. It was so painfully tempting to pull her into the room, lock the door, and do whatever he can to please her but he contains himself.

Because that's his best friend's sister, and he really shouldn't fuck her.

But he really wants to.

And it's not just because she's gorgeous. It's her light smile, the way she laughs, and her eyes… Sigrid has the bluest ocean eyes Finan just wants to get lost in.

He's trying not to focus on the fact that they've basically set him up. Giving Finan the room with a single bed and single women.

At least… he thought she was?

"Osferth," Finan leans over the kitchen island so he can quietly ask his questions to his friend, "Sigrid isn't… taken, is she?"

"Why? Sharing a room seeming less terrifying and more interesting?" Osferth questions with a smirk of his own and Finan snacks the side of his head.

"I'm just asking, I don't want to make her uncomfortable," Finan tells him, hoping his excuse doesn't make him seem too pathetic.

"Just keep your pants on and you shouldn't have a problem," Uhtred laughs as he enters the kitchen with two empty cups in his hand.

"Where's Sihtric?" Osferth asks as Uhtred joins them at the island.

"I think he's gone to consummate his wedding a touch early," Uhtred laughs and the other two men roll their eyes.

"How are the women?" Finan asks, more curious about Sigrid than the rest of them...

"Gisela is tired, and Eadith may need help getting to her bed," Uhtred answers, looking directly at Osferth as he brings up his girlfriend.

"That's my cue then," Osferth chuckles, "Goodnight, gentlemen."

Finan and Uhtred wave goodnight as Osferth walks away, and when Finan looks at Uhtred he has a devious smile on his face, "What?"

"Sigrid has already headed to bed if you wish to join her," Uhtred tells Finan with a raised brow.

Finan rolls his eyes as he wipes his hands across his face, "Uhtred-"

"Your secret is safe with me," Uhtred laughs as he raises his hands in the air.

"And what secret is that?" Gisela questions as she enters the room.

"There is no secret, Gisela, I think your husband is drunk," Finan tells the women and Uhtred laughs again.

"If you want to fuck her just go ahead and do it, no one will tell Sihtric," Uhtred tells him, and Finan groans as Gisela hits her husband.

"Uhtred!"

"She's your cousin…"

"I'm not the one who wants to fuck her," Uhtred tells them in his own defense, "And besides, if you do decide you don't like her then Sigrid goes back to New York and you never see her again."

Gisela sighs heavily, disappointed with her husband, "Uhtred, you are awful."

"I am brutally honest, it's a gift," Uhtred shrugs as he pulls his wife close, "And you married me, remember?"

Gisela rolls her eyes and smirks his way, "Unfortunately, I do, and we should get to bed."

Uhtred raises a brow with interest, and immediately starts to pull his wife away, "Goodnight, Finan."

"Goodnight," Finan tells them as he's left alone in the kitchen. Now that he is alone, he sighs, and then makes his way to the main living room.

The room is empty now, with everyone going to their respective rooms. He can very well go upstairs, grab his things and then sleep on the couch. They look like they'd be unbearable to sleep on, but it would be better than attempting to share a room with Sigrid. It's the smarter choice, he tells himself as he heads upstairs to get his things.

There is no way he'll survive a night alone with that woman.

————————————<3—————————————

Part of Sigrid is grateful she went upstairs first, she was able to change into a comfortable pair of joggers, a baggy shirt, and a sports bra. She thought about forgoing the bra altogether, but she's a bigger chested girl and her back wouldn't be happy with that.

So instead, she chooses to go without her underwear.

But now she's alone for a while now, and part of her wonders if Finan is alone on the couch trying to sleep. She can't imagine they're any more comfortable to sleep on than they were to sit on, and starts to feel bad for claiming the room for herself.

Sigrid even feels bad enough to gather some of the extra blankets and pillows in the room and go to the door and bring them downstairs to Finan, but he's standing right there when she opens the door.

"Oh," Sigrid smiles shyly at the sight of him, "Hey, I was just going to-"

"I- I just came up here for my stuff," He stutters with a smile and after a moment or two they both chuckle.

Sigrid and Finan stare at each other for a few moments before she finally tells him, "Come in, it's your room too after all."

"I shouldn't stay," Finan tells her with a soft voice.

He's sweet and definitely not as forward as most of the men Sigrid has encountered in her life. It's a nice change of pace, to do the chasing instead of being chased.

"What If I want you to stay," Sigrid smiles, throwing the pillow in her hand back into the room, which frees her hand to take Finan's, "There's space in here for the both of us."

————————————<3—————————————

There's space in here for the both of us.

Finan swallows hard as Sigrid takes his hand and pulls him into the room, dropping the spare blankets she once held onto the floor. This must be a dream. Perhaps he's already asleep on the couch because there's no way this woman is leading him across the room towards the bed. She can't possibly be unbuttoning his shirt, agonizingly slow, working each button slowly with soft fingers.

He wants to devour this woman whole.

"Sigrid," He calls her name and she hums in response as she focuses on finishing his shirt, "What are you doing?"

"You can't sleep in this shirt, you'll get it wrinkled," She tells Finan softly, a smile on her face as her eyes keep on the buttons. As she undoes the last one Sigrid finally looks up, her eyes following her fingers up his chest and to his shoulders.

She's feeling him up as she slides the button-up shirt off his shoulders and down his arms, letting it drop to the floor. The shirt hits the floor with a soft thump, and Sigrid looks up, "Is this fine?"

"Is this fine for you?" Finan has to ask because he still isn't sure whether or not this is a dream, "You don't have to do any of this."

Sigrid smirks with her head at a tilt, "So you don't want me?"

"I just… don't usually sleep with strangers," Finan tells her as Sigrid's hands find his chest again, "Especially not my best friend's sisters."

"I hope not," Sigrid tells him as her fingers move down his chest, and he wonders if she can feel how hard his heart is pumping, "Thyra is married."

"You know what I mean, Sigrid," Finan tells her and she looks up again and smiles. One of his hands involuntarily moves up to touch her face, moving from her jaw to the back of her neck, "I just have to make sure you want this."

She nods, her eyes focusing on his lips, "You should've taken me in the bathroom."

"If I'm going to take care of you, it'll be on the bed," Finan tells her as he leans down, pulling her towards him as her eyes start to flutter shut in anticipation of his lips, "And I plan on taking excellent care of you."

First thing Finan notices when he kisses her is that Sigrid tastes like sweet alcohol and fruit. The second thing he notices is that he feels like a starved man getting sustenance for the first time. Her mouth is paradise, and he's only just started to uncover her.

His free hand moves to Sigrid's waist, pulling her closer until they are flushed together and she must feel how hard he is because she's grinding herself against the hardness in his pants.

The kissing gets more frantic, with tongues colliding and at one point Finan can feel Sigrid's teeth scraping against his bottom lip and it's intoxicating.

Both hands find their way down to Sigrid's waist and onto her ass, and with a tight grip, Finan lifts Sigrid into the air and brings her to the bed without once breaking the kiss. Not until he lowers her down, only then does Sigrid break the kiss to speak.

"Clothes… off," She whispers into his mouth as her hands find his waistline, trying to fumble with his belt, "Now."

Finan rises up for a moment to take off his shirt, pulling in up and over his head I'm one motion. Meanwhile, Sigrid has undone his belt and to speed things along Finan manages to take off the rest, leaving him in nothing but his boxers as he returns to however over Sigrid.

His hands move to her waist lifting up the shirt she's wearing up as they ride up her chest. Sigrid helps him lift it off her by raising her hands up as Finan pulls off her shirt. She smiles now as Finan goes for her pants pulling them down slowly to reveal the fact that she's gone without underwear.

Finan groans as the pants go lower, "Good Christ, woman." The pants are off and Sigrid moves quickly to remove her bra and now she's completely naked under him, and it's absolutely breathtaking, "You are goin' to ruin me."

Sigrid is smirking as he lowers himself down her body to get better access to her lower half, lifting her legs over his shoulder, as he mutters her praise's in Irish, and just as his tongue runs against her cunt that smirk fades into a gasp and a moan.

He's grateful Sigrid cannot see the cheeky grin on her face, from where his head is hidden between her legs, working her with his tongue like a man starved. She must like what he's doing because her legs wrap around his head and neck to pull him closer, and he can feel a hand find its way into his hair, pulling hard.

"Fuck, Finan," He hears her moan, trying not to be too loud by the sound of it, "Fuck…" Sigrid cums with a gasp, loosening the grip on his neck with her legs so that Finan can come up to air, returning to mouth so that he can kiss her and hard.

"You taste like heaven," Finan tells her, the words just slipping through his lips like he has no control, "I could spend the rest of my days between your legs and die happy."

"Then how would I know what your cock feels like?" Sigrid questions him with a raised brow as reaches a hand down to grab him through his boxers, "Take these off and fuck me."

Finan does what he's told, using one hand to pull his boxers down his legs and then kicking them the rest of the way off so he can continue to kiss Sigrid. Once they are gone, he goes to align his cock with her folds and remembers something very important, "Shit, condom-"

"UDI," She tells him as she breaks the kiss, "So if you're clean-"

"I am," Finan nods as he kisses her again and starts slowly pushing his way inside Sigrid. Her mouth opens to a gasp as he thrusts his way in, given another inch every time he returns until he's all the way in, "Fuckin' Christ, woman."

Sigrid wraps her legs around his waist as Finan continues to fuck her, his arms secure at either side of her head, as she wraps her fingers around his neck to hold herself steady against him. Foreheads touching because neither of them can seem to concentrate on kissing the other.

It's greater than paradise being tangled like this. With Sigrid.

It's home, and he never wants to leave.

He's getting close, Finan can tell because his breathing has started to shutter and he's groaning, so Sigrid lifts herself up to kiss him again to keep them both silent. A thrust or two more is all it takes and he finishes inside her, continuing to move just a bit more until he's sure he's given her everything he has to give.

Finan's arms collapse and Sigrid brings him down gently so that he's resting in her chest. They are both panting, and he can feel her fingers running through his hair and it feels incredible.

So he has no idea why he says, "I should probably go back downstairs."

"Leave this bed and I'll kick your pretty Irish ass," Sigrid tells him with a calm voice and when he glances up she's smiling.

"You think my ass is pretty?" Finan smirks and Sigrid laughs as he wraps his arms around her body and holds her close.

It looks like Finan isn't going anywhere.

Which is exactly what he wanted.

————————————<3—————————————

Sigrid wants to say she wakes up the morning after the best sex of her life to the face of the extremely attractive Irishman in her bed, but she doesn't.

Instead, she wakes up to Ealhswith looking directly at her with a smile on her face and her hand over Sigrid's mouth.

"Shush, I've come to sneak you out," Ealhswith whispers terribly with a giggle, holding a robe up with her other hand, "Come on, your brother is still sleeping!"

Sigrid takes the robe from her hands and Ealhswith closes her eyes as she covers her naked body, taking a moment to glance back at Finan. He's still fast asleep, and she desperately wishes she can stay in bed with him.

"Come on, Sigrid, you can stare at him later!" Ealhswith yell-whispers again, as she pulls Sigrid out of the room.

Once the door closes behind her, Sigrid glances at Ealhswith who has a big smile on her face, and raises a brow, "Ealhswith?"

"Yes?" She smiles wide, looking up to no good.

Sigrid crosses her arms over her chest and tilts her head, "You did this on purpose, didn't you?"

"I did," Ealhswith chuckles as she pushes her along, "And all I ask for in return is to be the best man at your wedding.'

Sigrid laughs at Ealhswith's request as she gets pushed away.

Yet a year later, when Sigrid finds herself walking down the aisle in a white dress with Finan waiting for her at the other end, waiting next to where she will stand is Ealhswith in her best man's tux and a wide smile on her face.

[ad1thi]

2020 fic recs!! [Part 2]

part 2 of my 2020 fic recs!! as before, ive limited this to five fics per month; and fics are ordered by the month they were published. This spans fandoms and ships, and hopefully you find something you like!! credit for the idea goes to @iam93percentstardust

***

July

this is the start: @capnwinghead

Clark and Bruce continue raising the Wayne children and encounter a number of challenges along the way.

great minds (love alike): @starklysteve

Steve’s eyes flicks down to Tony’s knees on the floor.

“Are you – are you proposing to me with my ring for you?” Steve asks incredulously, eyes wide and confused.

---

Or, Steve finds Tony’s ring for him, Tony finds Steve’s ring for him. Panic happens.

Marvels Unsolved: @iam93percentstardust

Marvels Unsolved was never supposed to be this popular. It started off as a novelty web-series about Tony trying to convince Bucky about the existence of the supernatural—he firmly believed that if science could turn Uncle Steve from an actual shrimp to the god of muscles, then magic had to be out there—and then they’d started talking about an unsolved crime from the early 20th century after filming an episode one day, forgetting that the camera was still rolling, and had ended up with enough footage to make a second episode about real crimes. They had stayed pretty unknown throughout that first season but then true crime podcasts had exploded in popularity and Unsolved along with them.

it’s a small world after all: @maguna-stxrk

“Great speech.”

Smiling at the compliment, Tony turns around. “Thank y—”

And nearly drops his champagne flute.

His world comes to a stop.

They had only spent a night together, but Tony would recognize those baby blues anywhere.

It’s Steve.

Steve from Tony’s London business trip. Or, as Rhodey has become accustomed to calling him—The Soulmate That Got Away.

you’re in my blood, you’re in my veins: @nethandrake

Tony always figured that if they ever were to break up, it would be like a blaze. Scorching and hot and all-too blinding. Intense like the two of them have always been.

Instead, they break up on a Tuesday, with the rain pelting the windowpane and the midnight silence stifling.

August

Five Times Danny said he’d marry Steve (plus one): @five-wow

Danny humphs. “Look, all I’m saying is, I think I’d probably have married you by now.”

“I’d marry you, too,” Steve says.

Or: An experiment in how many times you can say something before you have to put your money where your mouth is.

Family (You’ve Always Had It): @/SunnyQueen

A black Camaro and a scowling blond was not what Junior had been expecting.

“Hi, sir. You didn’t have to pick me up.”

The blond looked up from the screen on his phone and groaned, completely ignoring Junior's statement. “You are right, I didn't have to."

Ode To Yoga Pants: @riotfalling

OR the continued terrible mating dance of Bucky and Tony, AKA when betting on your friends stops being fun

Through The Years: @hawkbucks

Tony brings home Natasha one day, proclaiming her to be his new sister.

Natasha takes this all in stride.

The broken road that led me home to you: @just-fandomthings

A documented list of conversations between Steve and Danny via text and phone call following the events of 10x22 "Aloha." (Where, even thousands of miles apart, Steve and Danny can't go without talking to each other.)

September

someday, we’ll pass it on to you: @starklysteve

Steve smiles.

Reaching up, he flattens his hand against his son’s far smaller one, curling gently around it. “You wanna be like him?”

“Da!” Peter agrees again.

One year old, and you already know who’s the best of us, Steve pauses to reflect, all his fears chased away by a fierce pride. “Your Dad’s coming home real soon,” he promises, “you should tell him that.”

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

Or, five times Peter did the repulsor pose as a toddler

+ one time he used the repulsors as an adult

Classic Sci Fi: @notdoingsohot

Bucky wakes up to Steve telling him he's lost his memory, but not to panic, it'll only last a few days. Easier said than done when the last thing Bucky remembers is fighting Hydra with the Howlies in WWII.

He tries to make the most of it however, and there's this guy... Tony Stark. It's pretty clear the guy hates Bucky's guts, which is unfortunate because god damn is he a sight.

He tries to figure out what he did to wrong Stark, but everyone just tells him he doesn't want to know.

They were right.

Blooms in Frost: @/Diomedes

Tony coughs up his first petal on the sixth of July. He has been married to the love of his life for two years.

Bury a Hanahaki corpse in earth and it will beget the most beautiful garden. All that love, it is said, must go somewhere.

Hanahaki AU: Established relationship

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

A Single Thread of Gold: @lovelyirony

Rhodey doesn't believe in love at first sight or any of that cheesy shit. He just wants someone who is nice, dependable, and safe.

Tony Stark is Housing Service's little problem for the school year, and now he's stuck in Rhodey's room because he's exploded the last two dorm rooms he's been in and won't live off-campus.

high roller, place your bet: @machi-kun

“Would you kiss Stark for a hundred bucks?”

“I would pay a hundred bucks to kiss him.”

October

press my luck: @omg-just-peachy

But... Steve is almost ten years his junior, and he could be with just about anyone, looking and acting like he does. And then there’s the not so small fact of Tony’s name and net worth and the fact that, okay, Tony had paid for Steve’s grad school tuition, and now he’s worried Steve feels obligated to stay. Or something.

Or, Tony is a billionaire, Steve is a grad student, and they learn to let themselves be taken care of.

see it with the lights out: @starklysteve

Tony goes on a business trip, and he does not - not at all - get jealous of Dodger hogging his husband's chest, a territory otherwise known as Tony's pillow.

(or, Steve goes on an Instagram spree and Tony misses home)

adulthood is looking both ways before you cross the street and getting hit by an airplane: @starkslovemail

It was a perfect plan, if Peter did say so himself.

The Buy In: @dracusfyre

For the ImagineTonyandBucky prompt: Mafia AU with Tony as the Boss (except he's a really good one, making the streets safe, keeping drugs away from kids etc) and Bucky as the detective sent to go undercover to catch him out but ends up realizing he's actually doing more good than harm and they end up falling in love

trinkets of your affection: @starklysteve

Kissed him once for every year I loved him, Steve had written.

By that count, Steve owes him five more kisses now.

Tony traces the words, hands trembling, and tips back a shot of Howard's ancient whiskey. None of it burns anymore.

One day, he'll have lived more days without Steve than there are words in the diary.

For the first time since he'd woken with shrapnel in his chest, Tony fears the future.

----------

Or, five things Tony keeps to remember Steve by, and one thing Steve gives him to remember.

November

“Hey Tony”: @riotfalling

Steve points out that Bucky never calls Tony by his actual name. Bucky doesn’t believe him, until he does.

Remembering You is Hard to Do: @lovelyirony

“The future’s crazy, honey-bear.”

Jim looks up.

“Why do you call me that?”

“Call you what?”

“Honey-bear. It’s weird.”

“Inside joke we have,” Tony says, chest tightening. “We thought those couples that have the lovey-dovey nicknames were ridiculous.”

overheard your heartbeat (calling me yours): @starklysteve

"Tony - "

"I wish I could promise to come home this time," he feels the armor crawl back down his arm, continuing unnoticed over Steve's red gloves, then up the blue uniform as Tony fights to keep Steve's gaze firmly fixed on him.

The last eyes Tony might get to see, and he wants to be lost in them.

In the end, his entire life boils down a few simple things: "JARVIS, take care of him for me."

----------

Or, Tony overhears a phonecall where Steve proposes, a battle happens, and a paper ring settles some misunderstandings.

i (really, really, really, really, really, really) like you.: @nethandrake

For as long as Steve can remember, he's been crushing on Tony Stark. The thing is, he's pretty sure Tony doesn't know Steve exists. And how could he? Steve's scrawny and little. He's a nobody compared to Tony who's Mr Popular and the son of a billionaire.

Or at least he thought so until Tony swings by the bakery Steve's mother happens to own to enlist Steve's help in finding the perfect Valentine's Day card.

The perfect Valentine's Day card for someone who isn't Steve.

One Song (My Heart Keeps Singing): @iam93percentstardust

When Thor is old enough to understand what a Heartsong is, he goes to his mother to ask her why he can’t understand the language his is in. He listens as she tells him about the first soulmates who couldn't understand their Heartsong until the day they meet, excited by the thought of a grand adventure, one that will take him across the cosmos in search of his One.

He’ll search all the Nine Realms if he has to.

December

Swiping Right: @s-horne

“Ouch. Definitely a hard pass for that one?”

Steve startled at the sudden comment from the row of chairs behind him and turned around. He’d been passing the time in the airport lounge by swiping through Tinder and had gotten lost in his own world. It was almost jarring to be pulled away from the screen of hot men and back into reality where the PA was screeching and there was noise everywhere.

Adjusting to the difference, Steve frowned. Wait, he knew that face. Oh, shit… he knew that face.

“No, no, it’s fine,” the man said before Steve could get out anything other than an embarrassed sort of yelp. Waving his hand through the air, the stranger smiled ruefully. “I get it. It’s the beard, isn’t it? True be told, it was a weird winter choice that year and I knew it would come back to hurt me.”

Steve didn’t know what to say. He knew it must have shown on his face and could feel himself flushing, panicked and embarrassed all at once. What were the odds of swiping left on someone literally sat behind him?

set your flight path home (to me): @starklysteve 

Tony puts down his welding torch. “I’m building you a plane.”

Stepping carefully over the gears and tools scattered about, Rhodey slowly makes his way to him.

“And when did you become an expert on how to build a plane?”

“Last night,” Tony grins.

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

Tony builds a plane, and Rhodey teaches Tony how to fly it. Or he would be teaching Tony, if Tony didn't distract him so much.

I Want A Man With A Slow Hand: @thefourofswords

“Can I ask you a question?” he asked on their way to a crime scene, because no time like the present, and Danny believed in ripping off band-aids.

“Why not?” Steve replied, eyes on the road. “You’re gonna even if I say no.”

“What do you like in bed?”

*

Danny undertakes a very important mission to get Steve laid. For his health. Ahem.

same time next year: @omg-just-peachy

“I forgot to ask. When’s your flight home?” Steve asks, draping his arm over Tony’s shoulder and settling in against him.

Tony ignores the knot that forms in his chest at the idea of it, leaving Steve again for his own impersonal apartment, his piles of books and projects and the nights without sleep.

“Day after tomorrow.”

Steve huffs a little sigh, then brings his lips to Tony’s neck. “Well, we’ll have to make the most of it, won’t we?”

Or, four (4) Christmases with two (2) idiots who can't admit they're in love.

rearrange my heart (to fit your smile): @starklysteve

"You dare," Howard's chair makes an ugly noise as it scrapes against the stone floors, the chatter of the room shifting into hushed whispers and stolen glances. "I am your father and your King!"

"My King is my husband," Tony tips his chin up, defiant. "And I refuse to hear you suggest that my husband has been anything other than good to me."

Next to him, he feels Steve's shoulders stiffen in surprise.

Howard's fist slams loud on the table. "Your husband does not even love you!"

Tony jerks back, burned. He knows that. Knows that Steve did not marry him for love – does not need any reminder of the cold truth, of what he desperately yearns for and can't even hope to have – but the harshness of Howard's words was scalding, and Tony can't afford for this to go any further.

----------

Or, King Steven marries Prince Tony, Tony is pretty sure he shouldn't panic when he falls in love with his own husband, and Steve tries his very best not to cause diplomatic crises.

Keyword: try

[pandajaye]

Todoroki Family Ties (Part 7)

Characters: Enji Todoroki, Stepmom!OC!Ivy (Ivy is black btw), Child!Shoto Todoroki, Teen!Touya Todoroki

Warnings: child missing, dangerous criminals, mention of child murder, family abandonment

Enji and Ivy searched the entire property but Shoto was no where to be found. They called the police, Officer Tsukauchi alerted AllMight and Eraserhead and they were helping find him too. Even with them here, they were careful to keep quiet about the missing child of a Pro Hero. You never know what Villains could be looking for him too. The worst part of it was, the reason they needed pro hero help was because Shoto was the least dangerous person they were searching for today. The news reported that someone dangerous was out on the run and that only made Ivy’s heart sink lower. They figured they were fine since it was a private residence and Shoto was with a nanny, but she was gone too.

“We’re working hard to find him and the missing nanny, ma’am. I hate that this happened on the same day that a criminal broke out of jail. Is there any more information that you can give us about the boy or the woman?”

Tsukauchi must have been in a lot of situations where he had to show calmness towards civilians. His soft voice gave her a sense of peace, it was small but any was good.

“I-I.... I don’t know too much about her. She seems good with the kids. We just recently hired her last week and she’s been an angel. She has a very kind attitude for an older woman with a tattoo.”

“A tattoo? What did it look like? Can you describe it for me?”

Ivy thought hard about the image that was located on the woman’s hand. Enji didn’t agree with it but Ivy convinced him that since she wa so child friendly, the tattoo shouldn’t matter.

“It was a thin black circle with a cherry blossom inside. There was an ‘X’ on the right side of the circle. It was kind of wrinkled a long with her hand but I still thought it looked pretty cool.”

One of the officers that was standing in front of her drawing the description of the tattoo nodded to Tsukauchi. When he looked back at her, she could tell there was more of a hardness to his face. He turned to Enji and Allmight who had been standing next to them to observe.

“If it’s alright, I’d like to just speak to you two alone for a minute.”

They looked at each other before taking a step into the kitchen, away from where Ivy could hear.

“I’m afraid that the nanny may be involved in the disappearance of the boy. The tattoo that Mrs. Todoroki had described matched the same image of another womanms tattoo. They’re believe to be apart of a gang of Villains called the Withered Blossoms. Any crime scene these women have been apart of usually have young men unconscious or dead but with the appearance of someone who is old. Their victims also are left with no money. Apparently they use the youth from their victims to stay alive. There’s no telling how long they’ve been on this earth but we’ve managed to mostly keep them in jail. I’m not sure what they would want Shoto for. Either his youth, or ransom, but I know that we’ll do whatever it takes get him back and those women in maximum security prison.”

Toshinori thanked Mr. Tsukauchi before turning to look at Enji. His gaze was stuck on the ground, thinking about everything that was just explained. He was never one to really show emotion when anyone other than his family was around. Though he wasn’t sure if he’d even get a response, Toshi tried his best to communicate with Enji.

“Don’t worry. We’ll find your son. Everything will be fine.”

Enji scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Who said I was worried? I know he’ll be okay. He’s a damn Todoroki, of course he’ll be okay.”

Toshi shook his head. He could see the worry on his face. It was written in his furrowed brows. The angry wrinkles on his face. No matter how he tried to hide it, this bothered him deeply.

“It’s not bad to have feelings. Your child is out in the big world and could be in danger. It looks more suspicious not showing worry.”

Enji sighed angrily and looked at Toshi. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he was speaking some sense. He didn’t know why he was such a hard ass all the time. There was just a lot of frustration and rage inside of him. The expression on his face softened but he looked away from Toshi.

“You’re right. I’m very upset. That’s.... my youngest out there. He could be scared. He could be hurt. Or.... o-or....”

“Hey. We’re not going to think like that, alright? They’re doing everything they can, looking under every rock for these villains and your son. I have no doubt that we’ll get some good news soon.”

Toshi gave him a nod of reassurance and Enji returned it. They may not get along always but he was glad to have Toshi here to comfort him and Ivy.

Especially Ivy....

This family.... Enji.... the kids.... they meant a lot to her. She was the first person in her family to be born quirkless. They hoped she would grow up and eventually gain one, but, unfortunately, it never happened. When she was in high school, she came home that day to her bags packed and thrown out of the door. They constantly hounded her for not being able to become a pro hero so that she could make them rich. Since she seemed to give no value in their eyes, she was kicked out and forced to live on her own.

After years of hard work, she graduated high school, college, got a job, and did pretty good. All on her own. She met Enji when she was fired and found a job at his agency. Apparently his assistant before her couldn’t handle his explosive temper. The difference between her and Ivy was that she could afford to quit, but Ivy was barely making it and this paycheck could change everything for her.

It was hard. There was almost constant intimidation. The atmosphere of every meeting had tension and no one was brave enough to disturb it. And it only got worse after the incident with Rei Todoroki pouring hot water over her son’s face. There were many rumors that floated around. Even when the truth about Enji putting her in a mental hospital came out, everyone said it was a cover up and that he actually murdered her. Luckily, the world continued to go around.

The agency was fine but it was obvious that Enji wasn’t. There was an aggressiveness and darkness to him that no one had ever seen before. Everyone was afraid to speak to him outside of business but Ivy figured that maybe that’s what he was missing. Someone needed to check on him and something inside of her said that it should be her. It was her character flaw. Even though she’d been through so much, she always felt as if it was her job to take care of the beasts of the world. In her mind, all they needed was love and kindness.

One day, she gathered the courage to talk to him and see how he was doing. When she opened the door to his office, the lights were off. He was just sitting in his chair but facing towards the window. That morning he walked in a nice suit but not the jacket was on the back of his chair and his tie was loosened. He was just sitting there, his head leaning against his hand like he was just done with everything.

“Hello? Mr. Endeavor?”

“What is it?

“I-I wanted to talk about something. Are you busy?”

He sighed and dropped his hand, turning to look at her and permit her to enter before turning back to the outside world.

“Come in.”

She hurried in and closed the door behind her, quietly making her way over to the front of his desk.

“I wanted to check on you.... see how you were doing lately. I’m really worried about you, sir. You haven’t burned as brightly as you used to, so I’m here if you want to talk about anything. I’m sorry if I’m bothering you in anyway, sir.”

When he didn’t respond, she walked to be in his line of sight. He looked so tired. There were bags under his eyes and a sad frown that looked as if it’s been there forever and would never leave. It broke her heart to see him so depressed. She decided to leave. He probably was being nice by not telling her to get out immediately.

“I hope your day gets better, sir...”

Ivy only took a single step before she was stopped, her small wrist in his large hand. When she looked at him, there were streaks of tears on his cheeks.

Suddenly, he pulled her to him and hugged her waist. She could feel him trembling.

“S-She’s gone.... she’s gone.... a-and it’s m-my fault-t.”

Enji’s grip on her tightened and she started to relax. He needed her in that moment and it was necessary that she was there for him.

“It’s going to be okay, sir. It’s going to be alright.”

They talked for a long time. He avoided questions about Rei but she didn’t mind. There were lots of emotions in the room. Maybe it was the sudden opportunity to be vulnerable or how she comes off as a trustworthy person, but he was quick to let her in. He admitted that this was one of the very few times that he made a connection with someone at work. He really appreciated her bravery and that she wanted to actually talk to him.

This was the beginning of their relationship. From coworkers to friends to friends to lovers. Oh how sweet it sounds. Even if it wasn’t always sweet, especially after they were married. So quickly at that. However, it was obvious that they were soulmates. The conflicts weren’t because of her, it was his toxicity. A toxicity that healed when they were together, it heals slowly, but progress is progress.

Now here they were. Enji holding Ivy as her emotions were trying to control themselves. That’s when they got the call from Toshinori. Ivy put her phone on speaker so Enji could hear too.

“We’ve found Shoto and the criminal. We’re bringing your boy home.”

A huge weight felt lifted off of the couple’s shoulders. Enji held onto Ivy as she cried into his chest. Since his hands were preoccupied with holding her, he couldn’t quickly wipe the tears out of his eyes and instead just lowered his face to kiss the top of Ivy’s head.

Shoto was back home within a few hours after an interrogation with the police. The woman had never mentioned anything about what he would be used for, she lured him with the lie that she would take him to see Rei. It made Enji and Ivy furious to find out that someone would make up such a terrible lie to kidnap a child and he vowed to find the rest of the group so they couldn’t hurt anyone else.

After dinner, and putting the kids to bed, Enji received a phone call from a number he didn’t immediately recognize and excused himself to go outside to answer it.

“We need to talk about Natsuo and Fuyumi soon. I believe it’s time that they come home.”

He recognized the voice immediately. Rei’s mother. The current guardian of his other two children.

[say-al0e]

Okay, listen. This is a line by line dissection of your hcs about the retired! TF gang and I don't care how long this becomes. Firstly, Frankie as a girl! dad? Frankie as a girl! dad. Frankie as a girl! dad to a girl who is basically a mini-Santi? Heck yes. I'm just imagining Baby #1 trying to negotiate a later bedtime with freakish accuracy and her mom quietly laughing at a corner while Frankie glares at Pope with a 'this is your fault' look in his eyes. (1/3)

Santi's partner as Frankie's wife's best friend? Yes, yes, a thousand times yes. They meet at a birthday party for the younger Morales and by the end of the night, Santi is absolutely certain that she is the one. They babysit regularly, which brings upon the baby fever, and before you know it - the extended family is larger than before (because if there is one thing better than uncle Santi, it is dad! Santi). Will Miller with a stuffed unicorn in my lap? You will hear from my lawyer, V. My heart has turned into complete mush. Now tell us more about Benny and his partner!!!!

THANK YOU FOR THIS I LOVE IT. I've lowkey been thinking about this for like two days it's fine. ...under the 'read more' cause it's... a lot.

A) Yes! Girl Dad Frankie is where the fuck it’s at. He’d absolutely be the dad that teaches his girls how to take care of themselves (when they’re old enough, he teaches them how to fix little things around the house, they work on his old truck with him) but he’s also soft. He’s playing dress up (King Frankie is his favorite because he gets to hang out in the recliner while Knight Benny is slaying the dragons with the princesses (Babies Morales) to save his girl) and baking cookies. He’s giving them the most well-rounded childhood and it’s amazing. But also, Baby Morales #1 taking after Uncle Santi is so funny because Frankie thought he was done with this shit. And he just looks so exasperated and his wife is laughing and everyone thinks it’s hilarious but they don’t have to answer the probing questions of a three year old when she’s wondering why she can’t have one more cookie before bed.

B) DAD SANTI! Yes, again, he wasn’t there for the first little bit of Baby Morales #1’s life but he’s home for her second birthday. And that’s when he meets his girl for the first time. She’s Frankie’s wife’s best friend. He’s heard all about her. But she’s kind of like him, a workaholic, and only comes to big family events (not the little ones where it’s just the guys and their partners, no kids) or girl’s nights. So, it takes them a while to meet. But when they do? Yeah, that’s it. It’s over. Everyone’s actually taking bets on how soon they’ll be taking different steps like moving in together, getting married, etc. But when they become godparents and truly start babysitting? Yep, they’re both fucked. Baby fever hits hard. They’re the second couple in the group to have babies and those babies are just as loved as the Morales babies.

C) I know. Will is so strong and quiet so imagining him all soft with fluffy toys and playing tea party and asking, so seriously, for sugar with his tea? THE CUTEST IMAGE ON THE PLANET. He really loses himself with playtime, though. He’s more for the quiet activities (tea parties, coloring, legos, etc.) but it’s nice because he can focus entirely on the girls and their activity at hand and it pulls him out of his head a little bit.

D) ALRIGHT BUCKLE UP. Benny and his girl met before the events of the movie (maybe they happened differently, still was a shitshow; no one is looking for them now though). He was sleeping with a friend of a friend of a friend and they met at a bar. She and Benny hit it off right away and remained friends even after he and the girl he was hooking up with called it quits (to be fair, she and the girl weren’t really friends and didn’t see one another much after that, either). They were practically inseparable, stuck to each other like glue. She came to all his fights, he was cheering her on anytime she had a big life event. They went out to eat, had movie nights; they’re just it, you know? But she’s afraid he doesn’t want her (because Benny doesn’t wait; what is patience?) and he’s afraid to fuck it up because he really is into her. So, they dance around their feelings, even though everyone can see it. He disappears for two weeks and when they come back, the first thing he does is kiss her. He’s not waiting any longer. He knows how fragile life is and he’s not looking to leave this life without her knowing. Obviously, they have their ups and downs like everyone else, but their relationship is so much stronger than anyone would’ve believed. Benny is 100000% the ‘I LOVE MY WIFE’ guy (even though she isn’t his wife yet). And they’re the ‘fun’ aunt and uncle. They’re the youngest and enlisted to join in when things like Disney happen (Frankie’s wife and Benny’s girl joke that it’s like corralling three kids, though, because Benny has one girl in each arm and is bounding around the park so they can fill their autograph books) but it’s kind of funny because Benny reminds them all of the lovesick days. He’s picking up flowers just because, he’s picking up takeout, he’s leaving cheesy notes around the house, and they’re all, like, ‘damn.’ Because where did that come from? But Benny’s trying his best and he loves his girl and that friendship definitely helped them build a really solid foundation for their relationship.

[nypmphetsbastard]

PARADIS ISLAND

Genre: slowburn fanfiction, college!au

Pairing: yelena x fem!reader

Summary: college becomes a whirlpool of new people and emotions once you meet a woman by the name of yelena manages to weasel her way into your once perfect life and tear down everything you ever thought to be true. From religious views to friendship, she builds something new. Now, she introduces you to new world she likes to call Paradis Island.

Warnings: angst, smut, hurt/comfort, struggles with Religion, homophobic comments/people

A/N: this story is posted on ao3 {NYMPHETSBASTARD} as well as wattpad {SUGACODED} because wattpad is acting a fool and I need another place to save this story👍

————

Leaving home was always a rough time for both parent and child. Anybody who grew up in a loving home tended to stick to that home like glue, not wanting to separate from it and instead choosing to go to schools and jobs closer to home, closer to family. Those without however, preferred their freedom. When the clock struck 12 and everybody went to sleep was the only time they'd have to themselves, the only time they'd ever have to feel safe and relaxed — leaving home wasn't as hard on them.

You...well you were a different story. You didn't like a lot of things, being grabbed, having things snatched out of your hands, people taking your food without permission, somebody talking to you when you're clearly trying to avoid them — the list could go on. But growing up leaving you home never seemed to cross your mind. For whatever reason you felt like things were fine at home, not perfect but not terrible either, nine year old you didn't stop to think that one day you'd have to make the decision to move away from your friends and family. The small town you were in had a lot of older people, ones that never separated from their high school popularity phase and believed that the world revolved around them and them only, the others were newly young adults seeking any way out. You hoped you'd be the ladder.

Your parents had never spoken to you about leaving the house, meaning you grew up only learning what was taught in school. World War One and two, Pearl Harbor, slavery, and other shitty thing America did and or went through throughout the course of centuries on end — all only ever learned or discussed in school. The main focus in your household was religion and religion only. It's what you grew up to be right, nothing else existed in your mind besides that.

There was nothing wrong with that. Well...until around the time high school hit. Senior year was the year stressed to you since you were a freshman, you could barley fathom the fact that you'd have to apply for colleges, work on a bunch of different essays and possibly move away when you were young and you could still barley understand it now. But it was only then, then when they had handed you that slip of paper of which colleges you were going to apply to did you realize something; you didn't want to end up in a boring old relationship with a guy from your sophomore geometry class, get married, have a couple of kids that would send you to a nursing home and never live the life you dreamed of having.

You wanted that Disney channel teenage life, teenage adventures that would give you enough memories to last a lifetime and successfully say you lived your life to the fullest. While your teenage years had been spent in a church every weekday, your nose in school books and your bedtime forever stuck at the time 8:30, you swore your adulthood would be different.

Everything would be different.

"Are you sure you're not missing anything, hun?" Your mother asked nervously watching you pack the trunk up with your suitcase and extra bags. You yawned into your hand due to the more than early hours you guys were beginning the trip in order to make it early to your destination.

"You made a list mom, I don't think there's anything I could miss." She smiled your small joke and got in the passenger seat of the car, "You know, you guys really don't have to come. It's nearly a 4 and half hour drive over there, not including the drive back." You mentioned

"We already told you we're going to stop by my mother in laws and stay for a while." Your father explained, you sighed and got into the backseat of the car.

You brought your favorite stuffy and laid your head on it against the window as you prepared yourself for the 4 hour drive from your old childhood home to a new place where new memories could be made. It felt almost nostalgic watching your entire childhood fly by from behind a window. The blue slide you loved going up and down on till you felt like throwing up. The metal pole that always terrified you trying to go down. The monkey bars you taught yourself to climb because of the lack of friends you had that could teach you. It all seemed to disappear behind flashes of trees and road as the car drifted further and further away from the place you called home.

"Morning sunshine! We're here!" Your father exclaimed, waking you out of your slumber. You groaned quietly and rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, taking a moment to look out the window at the large building in front of you. Gawking at the size, you shook your head and stepped out of the car to get a closer look.

"This is much smaller than the one I went to." Mentioned your father, squinting up at the building and helping you pull your suitcase out of the trunk.

"That's because you went to community college, honey." You chuckled at your moms observation and rolled your suitcase up to the sidewalk.

"Well I'll see you guys—" you started until your words were cut off by your mother slapping her hands down on your shoulders and giving you a firm look.

"I better not come visit you in a few months and see you with a purple Mohawk, piercings and a girlfriend, you hear me?" You nodded at her dramatic remarks and felt yourself internally cringe at her words.

"Hopefully we come back to you with a kind little boyfriend and a college degree we can show off to the rest of the family." Your father said, wrapping his arm around his wife's shoulders and gave you a tight lipped smile.

"Call us when you get settled and show us your roommate."

"And if they're anything we told you to not look like or if they smoke, drink or are sexually active in public, please change roommates."

They listed off, you internally rolled your eyes but still managed to give them a nod.

"Okay, I get it. Bye." You waved them off and stayed on the sidewalk till their old beat up grey car pulled away from the university.

Sighing, you rolled your shoulders back, grabbed all your things and walked the 10 minutes all the way to your side of the dorms. Personally, you had no clue who your roommate was besides their name but you knew even if you got a wild one you wouldn't change rooms. It didn't matter to you wether or not your roommate had purple hair, while your parents and nearly everyone in life tended to stick their nose in the business of others, you had no care in the world about anybody else.

From the moment you stepped into your new room, your nostrils were immediately being wrapped in by the smell of vanilla and incense. You looked around the room and noticed that only half of it was done up while the other was plain and void of any decoration.

"Hello, who are you?" A soft voice asked politely and there in front of you stood one of the prettiest girls you'd ever seen. She was a short young woman with long, disheveled shoulder-length black hair, a Greek nose and relaxed dark eyes.

"Oh sorry! I'm your new roommate, you're Pieck Finger, right?" You greeted her, shaking her surprisingly soft hands and placing your bags down on the floor next to you.

"Sorry about the smell, I'm lighting some incense to cleanse the new room. I just got here last night."

"Mhm, are you religious?" You asked, pointing to the black leather notebook in her hand. She looked down at it but smiled and shook her head.

"Ah no, I'm Agnostic. Although my childhood friend practices Hinduism and I guess I pick up on some things." She explained, you nodded at her words and made a mental note to ask her what the hell agnostic meant at a later time. Her eyes went down to the bags in your hand and reached out to grab your suitcase.

"Here I got this, I'll put this on your side of the bed and let me know if I can help with setting anything up." She offered kindly, you nodded at her offer and the two of you immediately got to work.

As you folded your clothes into a drawer and hung them up in a closet and Pieck finished wrapping your bed in it's covers and blankets, the two of you talked. Talked as if you'd been friends since birth. Pieck felt like someone you could truly se yourself being friends with in the long run of college, she was also someone your parents would most likely accept and allow you to stay with. The two of you bonded over certain interests, Pieck had a knack for writing — poems, full books, it didn't matter; you were the artistic one. Always doodling on something or recreating famous art paintings in your room, usually religious paintings as your parents always told you that if you were going to have painting as a hobby you might as well paint something useful.

"Finally, we're done." You sighed, exhaustedly throwing yourself onto the newly made bed. Pieck chuckled and stood up, grabbing her belongings and putting them into a small book bag.

"Hey, me and my friends are meeting in the library later, would you like to come?" She asked, you mulled over the idea for a quick second and nodded your head.

The walk from your dorm and the library gave you and Pieck even more time to get to know each other. She explained how most people from her old high school had come to the nearest college, it being this one which is why she never worried about not making any friends. Your eyes nearly popped out of your eye socket as you stepped up to the large library building, it being much bigger than any library your town had to offer. Pieck held the door open for you as you stepped in and took a moment to admire the large area.

"Psst, Pieck!" Whispered a voice, you looked over to see a brown haired woman in big round glasses waving the two of you over with a wide grin on her face. Pieck waved back and walked over the round table with the two other people sitting and you following behind her.

"Hey guys, this is my new roommate. This is—"

"Hange Zoë, nice to meet you!" The glasses wearing woman exclaimed excitedly taking your hand in her and shaking it vigorously. A nearby librarian glared her way and hushed her, she smiled and apologized to the old woman.

"I'm Porco." Replied the blonde boy on the other side of the table dryly.

You waved at him awkwardly and sat down next to Pieck, yet it was only after they began pulling out their books did you realize you had nothing with you. Tapping the dark haired girl on the shoulder, you motioned towards the bookshelf's and stood up to leave once Pieck nodded her head.

You walked around aimlessly with no true destination or book in mind till you came across a bookshelf, this one different than the others and tucked away in a little corner. It was old and basic but it still had integrity. The wood was straight and it hugged the wall. On closer inspection you could see scratches, the wood a little more pale where it had been dinged. You touched the roughness, not minding one bit and looked at the books inside. The fiction section had always been your favorite growing up, your parents believed books like Harry Potter were some sort of books that demonic and plaguing words hidden within them so you only ever grew up reading them in short amounts of time in the library before they could find you.

A small gasp made its way up your throat as your eyes landed across a book titled Alice in Wonderland, one of your top favorites. The ladder that usually came along with each bookshelf was currently being occupied yet this specific bookshelf seemed to take up nearly the entire wall of the library — this might've been one of the first things you couldn't successfully grab with ease. You reached your hand up to grab the book, your fingertips only slightly touching them before the book suddenly disappeared from your grasp and a warm presence creeped up behind you, towering over your frame.

Looking up, your eyes met a pair deep dark eyes staring down at you, the book now forgotten in your mind as it was now clouded with the face of the person in front of you. It was only after a couple seconds that you blinked out of your trance and stepped back, falling straight between the bookshelf and the person. You felt...intimidated. The person in front of you was more than taller than you, a height you thought was nearly impossible. They tilted their head to the side, bent down a bit and held the book out in their hand as your eyes stayed trained on theirs.

"Do you want it?" They asked, you nearly jumped in your skin at the sound of their somewhat deep voice.

"Huh?"

"The book." You looked down and finally registered the fact that they'd picked up the book you were grabbing at and now held it out to  you.

"O-oh right, thank you." You stuttered, mentally cursing yourself for acting this way. While your eyes strayed away from theirs, they went downward to the person's appearance.

They wore a dark green turtleneck sweater paired with high waisted black pants, accentuating their long legs and black lace up Oxford shoes — their entire appearance intimidated you. The center of their nose pierced through with silver piece of jewelry.

"I..." you regretted opening your mouth the second the words came out, "gotta go," the words spilled out of your mouth as you immediately walked around them and towards your table, the interaction still replaying in your head on loop. It wasn't until you rapidly sat yourself down next to Pieck that you felt like you could breath.

You weren't the most social person in the world but you also weren't the most nervous, but they...their presence, their height, the look in their eyes, it all seemed to send you into frenzy. Ignoring the slightly worried look you got from Pieck, you open the notebook given to you and tried to let the interaction seep away into your memories. Yet it didn't work. Every word on the paper seemed to fly over your head, your mind never sticking to the sentences given to you. Hell, you could barley read about Alice's shitty life without comparing it to what had just occurred. It was all too fresh. Too new. Too...interesting.

"Mornin' Pieck." Greeted a deep voice from behind you, turning around you were faced with a tall blonde haired man with small circle glasses resting on his nose.

"Good mornin, Zeke." Pieck responded kindly, the man looked around the table greeting everyone till his eyes met yours.

"I don't think I've met you before, and who must you be?" He bowed down respectfully and held out his hand, you looked at it confused for a second before sliding your hand into his and watching as he leaned his head down to plant a kiss at the back of your hand.

Before you could protest, a different hand gripped Zeke's shoulder, he pulled away and turned around to find his female companion standing above him with a blank expression on her face — one he'd gotten used to over the course of their friendship. Meanwhile your breath was caught in your throat at the sight of the intimidating person you'd met only moments before.

"Your book, Zeke." They said plainly, Zeke pulled away from you and took the textbook of their hands, thanking them and skimming through the textbook as both of your eyes never left theirs.

"Good morning, Yelena." Pieck greeted her with a smile, finally, Yelena's eyes drifted away from yours and were now on Pieck, the sides of her lips quirking up into a smirk for a second.

"Good morning, Pieck." Your eyes went back and forth between them in confusion until another person popped up behind Zeke.

"Hey guys, hey hange, Pieck." The dark haired man bun wearing boy said, leaning his arm against Zeke's shoulder despite them being the same height.

"Guess I'm just invisible then" spoke up Porco with an offended look on his face, the dark haired boy simply looked at him and blinked.

"Oh no I knew you were there, I just don't care. Anyways, are you guys coming to my big party tonight?" He asked excitedly, Zeke scoffed and pushed his glasses further up his face.

"Tch, we're not children, Eren. Why would we go to some teenage party?" Eren scoffed at the blonde mans response.

"Yeah obviously not you, old man, you're fucking ancient. I was talking to Pieck and..." he looked at you with a confused expression before shrugging and pointing at you, "and her."

"I'm not even that old—"

"Sorry, Eren but you already know my answer." She apologized, Eren pouted and groaned.

"Oh come on, please, Pieck? The last time you went everybody loved you, please?" He begged Pieck, placing his hands on her arm that was leaned against the wooden chair she sat at.

"Aw sorry, kid. I love them all too but I gotta tutoring session today." She apologized sympathetically, patting the boys head and turning to you, "what about you?"

You jumped at the sudden spotlight on you but shook your head regardless, "If Pieck's not going then neither am I." Eren groaned again and tried puppy dog eyes on the long haired woman in front of him.

"Look Pieck, you're deriving your new friend here with the experience of a fun college party." She smiled at his explanation which apparently told Eren enough that he stopped bugging her and stood up to his full height, slamming his shoulder into Zeke's as he walked away and mumbled something under his breath. Zeke almost turned around to go after him until Yelena outstretched her arm to stop him.

"He's a child." She pointed out

"He's a little shit, is what he is." Zeke complained, you looked over at Hange for information.

"They're brothers." She stated, your mouth made an o shape as you finally came to understand why the two seemed to have so much beef between them.

"Half brothers, Hange. Don't associate me with that brat." Zeke huffed, everyone chuckling at the mans clear discomfort with him and Eren being in the same room let alone sentence. "Anyways, we've gotta go, me and Yelena have business to take care of." Zeke said.

"Jeez, you make it sound like the two of you are hooking up." Porco mentioned with a disgusted look on his face,

"What if we are?" He joked playfully until he looked up to see Yelena towering over him with a straight look on her face, Zeke cleared his throat and shook his head, "Kidding, kidding."

The two of them walked out of the library and the three other people at your table continued on their reading while your mind was racked with a bunch of questions of the new characters you just met. You tried to avoid eye contact with Yelena when she was leaving but could still feel her piercing gaze stay onto you until she couldn't anymore.

"So are they?" You inquired with a whisper, leaning over Pieck's shoulder

"Are they what?"

"Zeke and Yelena. Are they..." you raised your eyebrows as the words clicked in Pieck's mind and the other two at the table began laughing into their books.

"No, sweetie, they're not sleeping together or dating." She denied

"Pfft, the day we see Yelena with a man is the day pigs fly." Chuckled Porco, you looked at them confused at their jokes.

"Yelena's a lesbian, babe." Pieck finished your thought and your eyes slightly widened at her response, not expecting it. Embarrassment silently creeped into your mind as you groaned and tucked your head into your arms.

"Well now I feel stupid." The three of them laughed and Pieck rubbed your back.

For some reason, those words felt like a small weight lifted off your shoulders. You couldn't understand why you felt so...happy that she wasn't with Zeke in that way. Maybe you just wanted to her friend. Yeah....that had to be it....her friend.

[lukealvezhimboextraordinaire]

Daphne+ simon

okay this took me way too long and i apologize! i could seem to find the right theme for them but must admit i had fun writing this one.

so here it goes, a little snippet into simon and daphne's life

As most things in Daphne’s life, it all started with a conversation with her siblings. While she didn’t exactly have many complaints regarding her life as a married woman, she had to admit that she missed the loud family at Bridgerton House. The multiple conversations going at once, the having to make sure Colin was the last one to get to the food or else no one after him would get to indulge in that dish, the ongoing antagonizing game between her youngest siblings, the yelling from across the table, the savage teasing paired with the sarcastic and always on point snarky comments coming from Francesca and Eloise’s witty remarks.

Speaking of Eloise, she was the sole culprit. Well, her and Hyacinth.

Ever since Amelia had been born she had been the centre of every conversation around the dinner table whenever the Bassets had enough energy to put on semi-decent clothes and drive all the way down to Violet’s house. Having a baby was exhausting. Daphne was slightly surprised she had never quite realized how much work babies were considering she had seen her parents go through the same four times. But Amelia was older enough for the hype to have died now and the Bridgerton brand of chaos was slowly returning to the table.

It had started innocently enough. A casual comment about how they barely saw Daphne anymore. Then someone had mentioned that she was probably too busy with the baby. And then it happened. Eloise had leaned back in her seat with a huff, shrugging one shoulder before very solemnly looking at her sister.

“Daphne is no longer fun.”

That seemed to catch everyone’s attention as all conversations died down and the room suddenly grew quiet. Eight pairs of heads turned to look at her. Daphne raised her eyes from her plate, stared at the eight pairs of wide, expectant eyes and pulled her shoulders up into a casual shrug. A dismissive wave of her hand before focusing back on her food sealed her half-decent performance at pretending to not be bothered by it.

“Hey leave Daff alone, she is busy!” Between mouthful and mouthful of food, Colin tried his best to defend his sister. He had a special bond with Daphne and had decided a long time ago that the only person allowed to tease her was, in fact, him.

“Busy being boring,” added one of the younger voices from across the table. Eloise chuckled, pleased, and high-fived the youngest of the clan.

Colin tsked his tongue. “At least she is doing something with her life!”

“I am eleven, Colin.” There was so much resignation in her voice that the room erupted in laughter.

“You are one to talk about wasting your life away,” Anthony mumbled pointedly, biting down a smile.

With an air of resignation to it, Colin let his fork fall against the wooden surface of the very old, very expensive family’s table. The action earned him a cautious look from his mother. “I have a career! I have fans!” At this point he was waving his hands in the air with indignation. “You just love to antagonize me!! Why are you not telling Benedict to go take a shower? He hasn’t showered in three days. He stinks!”

“Me and my body odor would very much like to be left out of this conversation, thank you.”

“Suspicious that you know that, Colin,” Francesca interjected, leaning on her elbows as she looked intently at him.

“Yeah, Colin. Do you keep track of our hygiene routines?” Unable to resist having a go at the easiest to rile up Bridgerton, Eloise joined in the fun.

“I bet that’s why he has so many journals....” Of course, Hyacinth had to get her revenge.

Colin’s ears turned red. He tossed his head to the side and then, in what could be described as the most immature move in men’s recent history, stuck his tongue out at his younger sisters while making funny faces.

The rest of the night went by without any other major conflicts. No one seemed to notice that Daphne had remained quiet for the rest of the evening. Or if they did, nobody dared point it out.

Simon, however, noticed.

He always paid attention to her. Even when seemingly he was entranced by some other activity, a part of him was always watching over her. Not in a creepy or possessive way, no. Just in a… in a need her around way. Daphne was his anchor. Her presence brought him a peace and calm he had never known were possible let alone imagine himself craving. She and Amelia were his whole world and it was only fair to take care of the two more important people in his life. He watched over her to make sure she was okay, to give back a bit of all she had given him.

Simon knew his wife. And knew that when she was silent for so long it could only mean a thing; something was bothering her.

“Princess.” His hand found her thigh and gave the softest of squeezes to it when she didn’t address him. Hopefully, it would make her turn to look at him. There was only so much he could do when his whole attention was supposed to be on the road.

“Huh?” Daphne seemed a little startled to hear his voice, as if she had just been shaken out of a reverie. On any other occasion, the look of bewilderment on her soft features would have made him chuckle. But the worry was starting to set at the bottom of his stomach.

“What is going on in that mind of yours?” His voice was cautious, soft, as if he was taking to a wounded animal.

Daphne pulled her shoulders up only to let them fall back into place. “Nothing.”

Simon opened his mouth to talk but Daphne beat him to it.

“Do you think we are boring?” The despair in her eyes made his stomach churn. He had to ponder it a second before giving her an answer.

“We are not boring,” he sent her a quick glance before returning to the road. “I know we have barely left the house since Amelia was born but that doesn’t make us boring.” It sounded bad even to his own ears. The groan his wife produced confirmed his suspicions. He chuckled. “Okay, maybe we are a bit boring.” She huffed and he laughed loud. Amelia protested in the back and he was reminded that his baby didn’t appreciate noise when she slept. “But we can change that, okay? Let’s go out this weekend. I’m sure your mom won’t mind keeping Lia for a couple hours.”

Daphne’s whole face lit up. “Really?”

He nodded. “Really.”

Violet was delighted to spend some quality alone time with her first grandbaby. But it turned out Daphne and Simon were a bit more hesitant about leaving their baby with her grandmother than either of them had anticipated. As excited as Simon had been all week about the prospect of going on a date with Daphne, as soon as he woke up that morning a strange pressure had settled in his chest. And as the time to leave came closer, it became more and more suffocating. His whole world had revolved around Amelia for months. She was his last thought before falling asleep and the first thought in the morning. He had taken paternity leave under the premise that Daphne needed help but the truth was that he could not fathom being away from his baby. And now that was exactly what he was about to do; willingly spend time away from his daughter.

“I don’t want to see you before midnight,” Violet warned, practically pushing them out of the door of their very own house, Amelia secluded to her hip, happily sucking on her thumb. “Amelia and I will be fine. I raised eight babies and most of them turned out fine.”

Simon sighed. His mother in law was right. They could do this. They had to do this. They needed time for themselves.

“Be good to your grandma, eh,” he placed a sweet kiss on the top of the baby’s head, taking in her scent before moving to kiss Violet on the cheek. “Thank you so much, Violet.” With his arm wrapped around his wife’s waist, Simon watched as she said her own goodbyes to their baby before gently dragging her away when it became evident they would miss their reservation if they didn’t get going soon.

Daphne’s eyes were clouded with tears by the time they got to their car.

“She is going to be just fine,” he tried to reassure her even if he himself wasn’t very convinced.

Daphne nodded, sniffing her nose loudly. “But will we?”

Simon didn’t have an answer for that but he really hoped it was a yes.

Ten minutes into their date and they had already called Violet twice. It was funny how they had become those parents. Especially Simon, who had never cared to picture himself as a dad. Prior to Daphne the life that waited ahead of him was pretty lonely. Hedonistic, yes, but lonely. Filled with parties and luxuries but always an empty house and cold bed awaiting him once his bacchanals were over. Ever since his wife had prompted him the question of if they were bored, Simon had not been able to stop thinking about it. A few months ago no one would have dared call Simon Basset any variant of the word boring and now all he wanted to do was spend his afternoons cuddling his wife and baby on their blue couch. The long nights out, getting drunk and taking strangers back home seemed like something a different man had enjoyed. The thrill he used to feel now turned to disbelief that he had convinced himself that life was enough for him. Now, he looked forward to bath time, to nap time, to any and all those special moments he planned on sharing with his baby. Because he was going to be present in every step. He refused to be half a dad. He refused to only be there for the good, easy parts of fatherhood and let Daphne bear with the weight of raising their children. And oddly enough, he was fine with that. He was content with his life, happy, enraptured. Even if that meant having to endure being called a bore by his new found family.

They called Violet one last time before being escorted to their table. She hung on them, threatening to turn her phone off if she received one more call before they were done with dessert. They looked at each other surprised and then laughed.

“This is weird,” Daphne commented, hiding her face behind the glass of wine for a brief moment. “We are here without Amelia and I miss her but I am also having fun.” As if suddenly a thought had struck her, she froze in place, furrowed her brows and frowned. “Are we terrible parents?”

Simon laughed, shaking his head. He reached for her hand across the table and laced their fingers. “We are great parents. Great parents also enjoy some adult fun.” That mischievous expression she had come to know so well framing his features.

Daphne sighed, feeling the thrill of the unknown starting to bubble up in her stomach. “Adult fun?”

Slowly, Simon nodded, eyes burning into hers.

“Wh-what are you thinking?”

He looked around them and then leaned forward, urging her to do the same. “Do you want to do something bold?”

Daphne nodded. Simon grinned.

“On the count of three, we run.”

Her eyes grew wide with shock but a devilish grin spread across her face. She nodded, eyes shining with excitement. The wine in her veins making her bold.

“One, two...three!!!”

Simon held his hand out to her grinning like an idiot, Daphne took it with a smile so big it rivaled the sun and together they stormed off the elegant restaurant, laughing and screaming, the manager hot on their heels. They ran and ran and ran until they were sure no one was chasing them. Breathless, they took refuge in a deserted alley.

“I can’t believe we just did that!”

Adrenaline rushing down their bodies, they looked at each other for a long second before their mouths crashed one against the other in a hungry kiss.

The next morning Simon dropped by the restaurant to pay for their food. He left a very generous tip.

Nine months later, they welcomed Belinda Basset into the world.

[pagingevilspawn]

Can’t wait for the next update of loving you is a losing game :)

Loving You Is A Losing Game- chapter five

hola. it’s been a few weeks... n e ways, i have given up on updating this book weekly, because its hard man, but don’t worry, this book isn’t over. 

jo finally gets her name in this chapter! is it cheesy? yes. is it a bit immature? yes. but so am i. we all know her as jo, not brooke, so i feel like it’s important that i write her as jo and not someone we never met. 

okay, hope you guys enjoy this chapter! ♥︎ click here to read on ao3. 

~*~

"silence ringing inside my head. please carry me, carry me, carry me home"

~*~

the first time... it was the alcohol.

the second time... it was a choice.

the third time...

the third time was a habit.

it was the last night of the medical conference and the two lay in alex's big bed together, him running his fingers through her hair and untangling the knots delicately, making sure not to tug on the strands. she was drawing shapes on his bare chest, studying the way it would flex unconsciously as she ran over certain spots with the tip of her finger.

she had her head nestled on his bicep, while his was leaned back against an overly fluffy cased pillow.

through their nights together they'd grown close, forming a... bond of sorts. he somehow opened up to her about his past and so did she, and ever since then they saw each other in a new light. it was like they could relate to each other on a more personal level.

they knew that their 'relationship' had progressed quickly, they knew, but they supposed they had already crossed enough lines. talking with each other was just so easy.

it also made conversation flow a lot easier. after yesterday, they both mutually agreed that if they were going to be adulterous whores together, then they needed to know more about each other than their names and what makes the other person moan it.

like now, for example.

"mmm, middle name?" brooke asks him, causing the man to scoff.

his face squirms up as he answers her, "michael." he says with disgust. it wasn't the worst name in the world, but really? michael? of all the middle names he had to get stuck with michael?

"that's not bad." she says, placing a small kiss on the side of his chest. "nothing is worse than my middle name."

the response seems to make alex perk up, a mischievous smirk she had gotten to know all too well the last three days playing on his lips. "what's your's?"

she shudders at the thought, pretending to gag. "josephine."

alex begins to laugh loudly, brooke slapping him in the chest in the process. "jerk!" she shrieks, not being able to hide her own grin.

his laughing dials down fairly quickly, taking a good look at her. "josephine...jo." he mutters.

she raises a quizzical brow, trying to figure out why he had just shortened her middle name, "huh?" she asks, her nose scrunching up.

"you look like a jo. not a josephine, but a jo." he says, making her tilt her head to the side.

"are you saying i don't look like a brooke?"she questions, making him nod his head furiously.

"yes."

she smiles at him, a glimmer of playfulness shimmering in her eyes. "well then, call me jo." she whispers.

alex looks a bit taken aback by her answer, "what?"

she shrugs her shoulders, "call me jo then." once she realizes alex doesn't really get where she's coming from, she explains. "my husband calls me brooke. you can call me jo as like... i don't know, a nick name?" she felt guilty in a way, that alex moaned her name, brooke, much like paul did. it was wrong, to have her ...whatever alex was, say her name in the same way her husband did.

alex looks uncertain by her answer. he gave a girl a name once before and look where that got him. "it's not that weird. my friend's name is ruth but we call her emily because that's her middle name. the only people who actually call her ruth are her parents and family members." she says.

alex scrunches up his face, "well i don't blame her. her name is ruth. your name's nice, i just... don't see you as a brooke."

"my point." she sits up looking into his eyes, which shined with seriousness, yet playfulness. "it's literally exactly like a nick name. so, just call me what seems more natural, jo or brooke."

alex doesn't look fully convinced. "the last time i gave someone a name she ended up having a hysterical pregnancy and tried to kill herself in my friend's kitchen. not to mention she peed all over my friend's couch."

he was expecting the girl to look terrified, but instead she bursts into a loud fit of laughter, clutching her stomach as she bends over, wrapping the blanket around her middle as she does so. he eventually ends up joining her, finding it so easy to laugh and be himself around the woman he had only known for a mere three days.

"jesus," she smiles, making his heart beat a little bit faster at the sight. "well, i can guarantee you that i wont't have a hysterical pregnancy, try to kill myself, or pee on your friend's couch. i'm pretty freakin amazing if you ask me." she giggles, twirling a strand of hair around her pointer finger dramatically.

he grins slyly, sitting up from his previous laid down position, taking a hold of her by the waist and bringing her back down with him, the woman letting out a joyful squeal, "i'll say," he smirks, bringing her into another kiss, making her moan at the unexpected contact.

the kiss wasn't very long, it was short and gentle, almost as it was a habit they had been doing for so long. it had only been three days, yet they had already seemed to know everything about each other. physically, that is.

he knew that kissing the little beauty marks she had on each side of her pelvic bone drove her absolutely crazy. she knew that his sweet spot was a crevice on the right side of his neck, about a half of an inch down from his ear and closer to the back of his neck than the side of it.

there was an area he discovered which had been able to calm her down almost immediately. it was about an inch up from where her hair began at the nape of her neck. he learned that if he soothed over that part with his thumb he could help her fall asleep or get in control of her breathing quicker.

she learned that rubbing a thumb by his ear was an easy way for him to get immediately calm, which she usually did while they charged in between rounds of hot, sweaty sex.

it was so wrong, so unconstitutional that they could say they knew other's bodies so well. he could tell you how many beauty marks she had on her back (fifteen) and she could tell you that running a single fingernail down the right side of his spine drove him insane.

like i said, it was so wrong how much they had gotten to know each other in a matter of three days.

but learning about each other seemed so easy, so casual, so stress free. there was something special about the two of them, other than the out of this world sex they had. they seemingly got one another without trying, like they understood each other's pain. which, in a way they did. they knew what it was like to be bumped around homes, never receiving love from anyone. they knew what it was like to fight like hell for something and not get anything in return. they'd never quite met someone who was so similar, yet so different from them.

he looks into her eyes once more, beginning to crack the smallest of a smile, "are you sure you want me to call you jo?" he asks.

"yep." she chirps. "i did go through a whole hating-my-name phase for like, the last year and a half of high school and had everyone call me jo, so a couple of old friends i talk to every now and then still call me it." she whispers as she begins to kiss down his neck, alex groaning at the contact.

he chuckles softly, gently taking her chin a making her eyes meet his. "you are full of surprises aren't you." he whispers against her lips. she purposefully ignores that way her heart beats faster in her chest, tingles shooting through her body as she hears his husky voice speak so delicately.

"just trying to keep you on your toes..." she trails off, feeling the way he grins against their lips, pulling her into another searing kiss.

"fine... jo."

and i suppose, that's how she became jo.

____

an alarm clock rang out, breaking the two from their deep sleep. they woke up the same way they did three days ago, a mess of tangled limbs and small unconscious smiles. alex groans as he rubs his hands over his eyes, the previous dim moonlight from a few hours before already having faded into a bright yellow as it pours through the windows.

the way they fit in each other's arms so perfectly was something neither of them had expected. the way how three days ago, they woke up so confused and uneasy, but now? three days later? nothing seemed more right than to wake up in the arms of one another.

what they were doing was what most would deem a disgrace. a disgrace to marriage. a disgrace to vows. a disgrace to themselves. but honestly, it was hard to see what they were doing as a disgrace, no matter how much they knew it was. how could they when it felt so right?

but today, it would end.

today, he would get on a plane and go back home to seattle. he would go home, back to his wife.

she would get on a short train ride back to her home, a large house not far from the university where her husband taught at. not too far from where the university she attended was. located she would go home, back to her husband.

the little bubble they were in would pop. it was inevitable. the rooms they shared and enjoyed one another in would just become a standard hotel room, used by countless other people doing similar things to what they had done.

nobody would know about the vows they broke. nobody would know about their adulterous ways. nobody would know anything. it was a secret. a secret they would carry to their grave. a secret they swore themselves to. they were married. they wouldn't screw themselves out of what they had, the one good thing that they considered good in their life. they were married to people they loved.

it was their secret. a dirty secret, yes. but a secret nonetheless.

it was sex. their secret was sex. hot, sweaty, passionate, mind-blowing, sex. but still. it was only sex.

and late night talks.

and ordering beer and room service at any hour of the day.

and endless teasing and mocking until one of them had tears streaming down their face from laughing too hard.

it was a friendship.

was that the word maybe? but sleeping with a friend? that was more like friends with benefits. whatever. they just... lost themselves a bit.

he was in a whatever place. she was in a whatever place. they were two whatever placers seeking and longing for each other. someone to get them, to understand them. and they did.

whatever.

they would keep this secret. it wouldn't happen again.

"what time is it?" he asks, his voice barely audible since his face was smushed into her bare shoulder.

she lets out a yawn, eyes blinking open to look at the clock, having to readjust her vision more times than she'd like to count. she mutters something incomprehensible, causing her to feel his face twist into some sort of gesture into her shoulder blades. "what?"

"nine thirty eight."

alex groans loudly, obviously not happy at the fact that he would need to get up soon. instead of doing what he was supposed to -start packing up his stuff- he beings placing tiny kisses on her neck, making her squirm.

she lets out a giggle (where the hell did that come from? she never giggled), a small smile gracing her lips as she feels his lips make contact with her neck again and again and again. she thinks maybe it's harmless at first, but quickly realizes it wasn't when he begins to kiss harder on the spot he discovered that first night.

a deep sigh escapes her, biting her bottom lip harshly to stop her from making any more noise. she swears, she never knew that that spot even existed until he found it.

quickly getting fed up with the teasing (she had no self control around him, don't judge her) she turns around to face him and smashes her lips onto his, feeling the smirk that had begun to form at the sudden contact.

"stop that."

"stop what?" he asks, feigning innocence as he begins pressing another kiss to her lips.

"stop smirking." asshole.

"but it's what i do." he replied smoothly, making her let out a low chuckle.

she pulls away from him, making his face contort into one of displeasure. tease.

his breath fans over her lips, goosebumps spreading all over her body as he rests his forehead against her's. "you have a flight to catch soon." she states, alex letting out a dissatisfied groan.

he flops back against the pillows dramatically, the white comforter flying up around him as he does so. he squints his eyes shut, realizing how that he was directly staring into a sun's ray. he shuts his eyes tightly, trying to ignore the yellow he still seemed to see. "i don't wanna." he pouts, reminding her of a little boy who was told he had to go to school, no matter how much he begged not to.

she cracks a small smile, trying to contain it as quickly as it appeared. he seemed to make her do that a lot, smiling that is. she couldn't remember the last time she smiled so wide or laughed as hard as she had this past weekend. "mmm, i bet." she clicks her tongue, pulling him up from his lied down position by his arm with a moan of protest coming from alex. "but... doctor robbins will probably kill you if you're any more than a second late. plus you have your... you know..." she trails off, their cheerful, joyous mood tumbling down in an instant.

so much for that.

"yeah," he says softly, so softly she doesn't even know if he knew she heard it. but him, he wasn't sure if his words were meant for her or himself.

he did have a wife to get home to. and yes, he did miss her. a lot actually. he missed her laugh and her smile. he missed her bubbly voice of excitement when she realized things were getting easier and easier for her to do. he missed that. he missed her.

but the way he felt with b- jo was something else. it was this... burning passion. this, intense hunger, this need for her. it was like hearing her moan his name and feeling her highest point of pleasure run over her made him feel something. a fire of his own. a special blaze to his skin. an increase to his heart rate. it was practically better than his own release.

god, when he was with her he felt everything.

he loved izzie. more than life itself. but jo, jo made him feel something he never thought was possible. he thought couples were exaggerating when they would say that they couldn't keep their hands of each other. he thought it was a joke when people talk about lust burning from the pits of their stomach. because sure, he'd definitely seen a girl, wanted a girl, took a girl home and did the whole she-bang, and he supposed that was an act of lust. but this was different. she was different. he hated when her lips weren't on his. actually hated it. all he wanted was to kiss her. again and again and again. he felt sparks fly out of him every time their lips connected, a weird feeling he didn't quite know how to describe. he loved how she tasted. she was intoxicating. it was like she just pulled him in.

she loved her husband. a lot. he was kind and charming and funny. he treated her with gifts and luxuries, no matter how many times she insisted on it otherwise. he was as smart as a whip, which came in handy for when he would help her study. she missed him.

but the way alex made her feel was... extraordinary. she thought that it was all a myth, a made up fairytale in books and movies. meeting the person that makes your skin turn into flames, the person that sends pleasureful shivers down your spine just by the sound of their voice. well, it turns out it was real. really fucking real. all she wanted to do was kiss him and feel him. she wanted to feel the way his muscles contracted when her hand ran down his chest. she wanted to feel everything.

and god, they both knew it was wrong to feel so passionately about someone who they weren't married to. they knew it, and the guilt about it was eating them up from the inside out. they were better people than this. but they tried so hard to stop. they tried so hard to resist one another, but they eventually lost.

lust was a cruel emotion to play with. no wonder it was considered one of the seven deadly sins. it was a cruel monster that disguised itself in the throes of pleasure.

alex pulls her in for another kiss knowing that if he did they would probably end up together one more time.

and so they did. their bare bodies flushed against one another, her curves sculpting perfectly into him as their hands roamed the other's bodies. nails grazed their skin as they danced a dance they had nearly perfected by now. there were gasps and moans and groans. they were taking advantage of the time they had left. it was hot and dirty at some points, and slow and sensual at others. he would kiss up her leg and her side until he met her face, which was usually hot and burning red from trying to keep composure of herself.

their hands worked miracles on the other, making them grip onto things in an attempt to make sure they didn't completely lose themselves when the passion got to be too much.

what a beautiful ending to something the world would deem so ugly.

[kalgalen]

College au nonsense, tidbit 3

(in which i don’t know anything about the american school system and it shows)

***

For the first fifteen years of his life, Travis is sure he's going to marry Margaret.

It's not that he's particularly romantic; after all, he's only five when he meets her. Margaret is a small, quiet child who often gets bothered by bigger kids; Travis just happens to be in the right place, at the right time, in a foul mood and with a bone to pick with people using their size to terrorise others. He gets out of the encounter with a scrape and a lifelong friend.

They spend a lot of time together, after that. Adults being what they are, they immediately start calling them an "adorable couple", and - well. They are only children. They don't understand what it means, but they know they like each other. 

Margaret and Travis grow up together, start officially dating once they're old enough to know what it implies. They keep to themselves a lot - not to say they aren't popular in their own way, but no one else is quite worth their time as much as the other is. 

Travis can't remember who jokes about getting married first; they're in middle school anyway, adult life is still a distant prospect. What he remembers, though, is Margaret telling him about her parents moving to the other side of the country. What he remembers is his whole world shattering, reduced to the single point of pain that is Margaret's absence. What he remembers is the loneliness. 

Well. It doesn't matter anymore, does it? It was a long time ago.

This is a new school year. He's taken a major in theatre this time; he's always been a good liar, after all, maybe this is the path he was meant to take.

He's hanging out at the coffee shop on campus, scrolling through Twitter as he wait for his coffee - a monstrosity of cream and caramel syrup - when someone taps him on the arm; he looks up, about to tell whoever it is to get lost - 

"William?"

-and suddenly his breath is caught in his throat, and he almost drops his phone, because she is in front of him, her brown eyes searching his face for the kid she used to know, as beautiful and perfect as he remembers her.

Travis imagines he must look like an idiot, mouth hanging agape, speechless. He almost forgets to answer when the barista calls his name, but it does break the spell, and he grabs his drink before turning to Margaret.

"Hum. Yeah. Travis, now, actually," he corrects her, gesturing with his cup. "... Margaret?" 

Thankfully, she doesn't ask for more details. Instead she offers a correction of her own. "I prefer Margot. Less of a mouthful," she laughs, tucking a stray strand of curly brown hair behind her ear.

"Right," Travis says, still somewhat stunned. "Margot."

She hums, then an awkward silence falls between them. They're simply staring at each other, making an inventory of the differences they can see between the child they were and the adult they've become. Margaret - Margot - is taller than he remembers, though not by much; she's wearing a green blouse, practical jeans and leather boots. Her messenger bag is covered in iron-on patches, one of which proclaims "tree hugger". There's a tattoo on her neck, some sort of black flower Travis finds awfully familiar. She looks - good. 

(Travis wonders what Margot sees as she looks at him.) 

He mentally shakes himself, trying to recover some of his cool. "Hum… So, what are you doing here?" 

"I enrolled here this year." She smiles. "Did a lot of different stuff after graduating high school, searching for myself, you know how it is." 

"Oh? What are you studying?" 

"Psychology! I realised I was good at listening to people, and I like helping, so I want to become a therapist. What about you?"

Travis hums, takes a sip of his drink to give himself some time. Having concrete plans for the future? Can't relate. That's why he's been switching majors over and over again, never able to settle for one; that's why he is stuck there - on his own terms.

"Majoring in theatre," he finally answers. "This time around." Margot raises a questioning eyebrow, and he elaborates: "This isn't my first rodeo. I've studied some history and biology before - it didn't really stick, though." Shrugs. "Figured I'd be more lucky in the arts." 

"You've always been a great liar," Margot teases. "I'm sure you'll do great." 

Travis hums. "That's what I said! And, like, even if this doesn't work out, there are plenty of classes I haven't tried yet." 

"Trouble finding your calling?" Margot inquires, a strange look in her eyes. 

"Something like that." 

She hesitates. "You know, I could -" 

Before she can finish her sentence, one of the baristas calls her name. She accepts her drink with a thanks, then turns back to Travis, juggling it as she retrieves a pen in her bag's front pocket. 

"Show me your cup," she demands. When Travis does, she scribbles something on it. "I have to run, but here's my number. Call me soon, let's catch up."

"Sure," Travis says. "Huh…" He clears his throat, shuffles a bit on his feet. "I missed you," he says really quickly. 

Margot blinks, then smiles. "Missed you too. See you later!" 

He watches her go. 

Mh. 

This is going to be a thing, then.

[lambourngb]

Get me out of here - places to go when canon is complicated

It’s Day 3, time to celebrate those stories that I turn to when I can’t deal with canon, or when I don’t have the emotional energy to untangle all the emotions I have for what’s going on in canon. Alternative universes, the safe harbor for us. Below are a mix of rewrites of canon, remixes of canon, or out right not even set in Roswell- to fill every type distance you want from canon- from near to far.

The first story I’m reccing is a long one,- so pardon the very long review below.

my love is a life taker by @jocarthage (267,600) So one day, Jessi popped into discord to share a dream she had about timetravel and being able to save yourself in the past basically, particularly Alex getting to give his baby-self a hug, and we all went, “holy shit that’s a cool fic idea please write it!” and really reality sucks right now with quarantine and whatnot, so what better thing to do than follow a WIP? I can’t tell you how badly I needed to something to look forward to as I was staring down a milestone birthday with all my plans in tatters, and this story filled the void.

Okay- now about the actual story itself, the world building about time travel in this is incredible but easy to absorb. Jessi dumps you straight into the action in chapter 1 with Alex, at 28, assassinating an Iraqi intelligence agent in 2009 that averts a bomb that was planned on US forces. You learn so much about both the story-universe and Alex here- one, that even dressed in mask and killing someone, Alex is kind and uses morphine as an overdose and has arranged for his victim’s family to be compensated, you learn that time agents can only visit places they themselves have visited during that time, and Jesse Manes had dragged his son, who was ‘time aware’ to every place of war and ruin on the planet before he was 18 and that, Alex’s victim, even as he’s dying, recognizes what a shit childhood Alex had but that Alex doesn’t.

The next part is where Alex’s time crystal malfunctions, instead of returning him to 2018, it takes him to 1998 where an 8 year old Michael is getting beaten by his foster dad and Alex, out of his time line mysteriously, visible to only Michael, saves him, but only temporarily. We all know with abusers, until you’re out of the house, it’s just a matter of time before the next beating. However, with one act, Alex at 28 starts putting into action (even though he doesn’t recognize it at the time) the steps to save his own life as he works to save Michael from his childhood. Each mission, each jump through time, Alex meets Michael, always a year apart and only for 1000 seconds, or almost 17 minutes. Jessi takes you through some of the darkest points of US foreign policy, only as Alex takes control of his life, he also starts to change the missions, and change the world. The details of places, people, food, etc are authentic from the author’s experience, if you don’t click on the links at the end of the chapters and disappear down google-rabbit holes about the events in history, well- you’re made of stronger stuff than I am.  There are lots of heavy subjects discussed, but there’s always care and honesty behind the intent. The way Michael grows, the way Alex grows, and of course the journey to the present time when they could be together? It’s like pining on steroids but it’s so wonderful. I wish I could pull out one thing that I loved in particular in this story- but it’s impossible, only to say that I love that I could disappear completely within the confines of ‘my love is a life taker’ knowing that I would be kept safe by the author, that goodness prevails.


when I’m oceans away by @neapeaikea (28,000) this is a post-2008 shed canon-divergent AU where Alex Manes, after the best/worst night of his life bolts from Roswell and leaves Michael behind. 10 years later, on the hunt for a child conceived at Caulfield, Michael walks into a youth home in California and finds Alex. A few things, I love that this author writes an Alex who didn’t join the Air Force but still lost a leg, I don’t really enjoy disability erasure in modern AUs (I’m better at looking past that in historical or sci fi aus) . It’s pretty clear after five minutes that the connection between the two men is still there and strong despite anger, secrets and guilt. The teasing and flirting between them is great but so is the acceptance of baring their vulnerabilities. I loved the care they take with each other, and the tie in to an alien child is just so perfect.

Crucibles (series) @ninswhimsy (9,000)- I’m cheating and naming both here, but obviously nin had her finger on the pulse of fandom, by writing crusade-set queer stories before The Old Guard ever boomed into a fandom from the movie. I was lucky enough to trade DMs over the ideas of holiness and the body, and how Alex would have treated himself, certain of his doomed soul, and how Michael would have responded in turn. It’s no secret I love everything Nin writes, but this series stuck in my mind. I will be drifting off to sleep, and think about Alex walking through the ancient city of Aleppo, ready to be done with his burden and Michael there with soft palms and scented oil, and boom! I reach for my kindle to re-read it.

no regrets if we walk this new road by @andrea-lyn (97,000) This author has written so many amazing AUs, some quite far away from canon events like her Mummy AU or her Avengers AU, but I have to say, I have a very soft-spot for this rewrite of season 1 for a lot of reasons. I mean, it’s 2020, so my appetite for Cop!Max is definitely at an all-time low, so the idea of exchanging his job with Kyle’s was extremely appealing. At least Kyle is a POC holding the badge, not a white man like our canon. Anyway, politics aside, this story is special to me for the scorching good Isobel/Kyle relationship that develops, the way Isobel sharpens herself into a lawyer (not an event planner) and how Michael rounds his own edges off in turn by becoming a teacher (and being secretly married).  Each deviation from canon made complete sense once you alter the way Rosa’s death affects the pod squad, and how they covered it up ripples out toward Liz, Kyle, etc. 


Layer on layer, down on down by @dotsayers (9,440) I love sci-fi tropes, especially time-loops, but they are incredibly hard to write (I know, I abandoned mine a while ago) so this story stands out because of just how well done the execution is and also the angst. Michael in a time loop about Caulfield, like how great/agonizing is that? The plot is so good, how it ties into Caulfield and why it happens in the first place, like wow.  The care, and the hurt, and the fatigue that Michael has in this story, oh you just want to wrap him in a blanket. There’s a tiny throwaway line about how one of the first things Michael learned to do in foster care was to make himself heavy and unmovable- and you instantly picture kid!Michael not wanting to be removed from a house - like my heart broke! The structure of the story, with the background of his just how much he loves Alex but how badly it hurts to see him die, really makes this study of 1x12 special. Along with all the angst, there’s tiny gallows humor lines, so am I weird, that I laughed through a couple of these scenes even as Michael kept dying?

Petty pace by @aewriting (11,600) Aewriting has a couple of stellar AUs, so trying to pick just one was difficult, but I rather feel this story is sadly underappreciated it (mind the tags). It was a remix of @iwontbeyourmedicine ‘s fantastic ‘Freaky Friday’, where the humans and aliens swap roles. Alex in the role of Michael basically was something I had never pictured until Ly wrote that story, and now feel utterly changed by it, especially with this backstory- the idea of Jesse Manes bringing a foster child home? Incredibly well done because there’s an off the charts level of menace in this story. The way Jesse watches Alex, who at first mistakes it for how a pedophile might size up a victim, but then catches on quickly that it’s so much worse in a lot of ways. And Alex is such a loner in the beginning, even as he reconnects with his pod siblings Liz and Maria, he’s still planning on keeping his head down and leaving Roswell far behind. Like freedom is literally the only thing he can conceive of for himself, no real dreams outside of that until Michael slips under his defenses. I probably could have saved this story for angst day- because the second half of the story, if you don’t sob while you read it, then I dunno. It’s helpful to read Ly’s story right afterward as a reminder that things do get better for Alex ten years later. In a lot of ways this story is sadder than canon (though there’s no murder of Rosa/4th alien), I’m comforted that at least Alex has Liz in the aftermath, alike in heartache in a way that Michael didn’t have because of the pact he and Max made about Isobel in canon.

Unexpected tidings by @bestillmyslashyheart (24,800) Another rewrite of canon, that explores a couple of very interesting questions, like what would it look like if Michael never made it back to Roswell as a kid but met Alex by chance in 2008? Imagine the cornerstone of the Lost Decade love affair revolving around the mundane questions of a long distance relationship that wasn’t built on the pain of the shed or Rosa’s death? Marlo writes an amazing take on this, that is both real and deep with the normal couple problems, before introducing that spanner in the works of oh yeah, aliens are real. With Michael on the east coast, and Alex finishing off his service in Roswell, Project Shepherd still entangles Alex with Liz bringing him in on the secret in hopes that with his hacker skills he can track down the third alien child that Max and Iz remember so they can warn him. As interesting as the current plot was, I found myself absolutely revitted the slow piecemeal reveals that Marlo doled out about Alex and Michael’s relationship over time. (I also while rereading this recently got very nostaglic for season 1 Alex who didn’t trust Jesse as far as he could toss him.) 

Don’t Punish Me For What I Feel by @winged-fool (3,600) Tarsus IV AU - another wonderful author with a catalog of great AUs, both sci-fi and dark, and honestly it was difficult to narrow it down to one. This story, well in 2009 I was a hard core Trek movie fan, so when I saw a trek-fusion story appear, I knew I would love it just on that basis. The thing is, this gave me Michael as the Captain, a surprisingly rare role for these space fusions, even though genius level repeat offender Jim Kirk and genius level repeat offender Michael Guerin seems pretty married in my mind as a connection. As a Tarsus-like story, all the tags are well earned by the story that Alex finally shares with Michael. It hit on so many levels, the hurt/comfort level for sure, but also to have a story where Michael is this stalwart protector of Alex was really nice to find. 

this isn’t the ‘holiday best friends championship’ by @usbournejez (6,090) alright to leave this on a lighter note, my final AU rec is this masterpiece by Kieran that was part of Malex Secret Santa gift fics- and what a gift it was to all of us! The way she writes established Malex is first-rate, because she always includes their canon-levels of snark/sharpness but it’s never directed at each other and that’s something I love. Here we have Alex, where we learn in just a few short lines, is a huge control freak but has the extremely big emotional handicap, and that’s his love/fondness/deserve to caretake Michael. Emotional cactus Alex who is soft for Michael? Love it. There are small drops of angsty backstory peppered in this, but really that just fuels just how sweet and wonderful the main theme of the story- which is Alex might hate the whole world at large, he loves, protects and worships Michael (and vice versa). As someone who can bake cookies, but that’s about it, I was still enthralled with the baking details and this story has never failed to encourage me to eat dessert before dinner basically. 

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Blue Eyes Part 35

Summary: After the Garrison is shot up, the youngest Shelby daughter finds a new home in London. She strips herself of her last name and tries to live a peaceful life far away from her brothers’ chaos in Birmingham. But fate leads her right back into it after she runs into Alfie Solomons.

Part 35: Ella realizes she needs to make choices as to what is most important in her life.

           “Look at that, that’s mummy when I was your age. There’s Uncle Tommy and Uncle Arthur. Auntie Ada. Uncle John, oh I do wish you could’ve met him. He was so lovely.”

           Alfie walked into the sitting room after taking a long nap. It had been a couple of days since the cold had nabbed him. Under Ella’s care, he rested up well and felt much better. Luckily enough, neither of the children caught the illness, both were still healthy as a horse.

           He found his wife with Sofia in her arms, cuddled up on the sofa. Ezra was sat on the floor, clumsily pushing around a toy car. Anthea laid near him, her eyes constantly watching him, her tail wagging every so often.

           Cyril had taken up residence on Alfie’s armchair, the big lug sprawled out like he was king of the house.

           “Oh, there’s daddy.” Ella smiled. “Feeling better I hope?”

           “Much better, thanks to me nurse.” He sat down on the couch beside her. “What’ve you got here, aye?”

           She showed him the handful of photographs that she’d brought out on a whim. “Showing Sof some old pictures.”

           “Look at that. Little Shelbys.” He chuckled and studied the picture. It was similar to the one he’d seen on Polly’s mantlepiece some time ago. The next one in the pile was a photograph a little later on. Ella appeared to be around thirteen or fourteen. She had her arm around Ada and little Finn was standing in front of them. The three eldest boys stood near their siblings but all looked solemn and a bit stiff.

           “That was the last picture we took together before they went to war,” Ella recalled. “I didn’t know why Polly was so insistent that we take it. I thought that they’d only be gone for a couple of months. I never imagined…” She sighed and shook her head.

           The third photograph was of Arthur, Tommy, and John. Ada was only a baby, cradled in Arthur’s arms.

           “I dream about him sometimes.” She said quietly, her eyes fixed on the very young-looking John. Too young to be going off to war.

           Alfie wasn’t surprised. Although it had been years since John’s untimely passing, he couldn’t imagine it was any easier for Ella to handle. “What do you dream about?”

           “I’m at Watery Lane. He comes into the kitchen and sits down with me. He smiles and asks what I’ve been doing.” Ella became choked up. “I-I tell him everything he’s missed. I tell him I’ve married and I’ve got twins now. I tell him about you and how much you mean to me.”

           “Yeah? What’s he say to that?” Alfie smiled slightly.

           She laughed tearfully. “Says Arthur will surely have a heart attack.” They shared a chuckle. “I just want to know…I want to know what he was thinking when he passed. I want to know if he was in pain or-or if it was quick. I want to know where he is now.”

           Sofia played idly with the pendant on her mother’s necklace chain. Her eyelids drooped as she listened to her parents talk softly.

           “I just want to know the truth.” Ella brushed a thumb over her daughter’s cheek.

           “Truth about what, love?” Alfie wrapped an arm around her.

           “Tommy said Shelbys don’t die of old age. He said we get killed or we kill ourselves.” She swallowed and shook her head. “I don’t want it to be true but-but I know he’s right. I just want to know our fate. I want to know that Tommy will be okay. That Arthur and Ada and Finn will be okay. I want to know that I’ll be okay.” She looked up at her husband. “That we’ll be okay. That I’ll live long enough to see our children grow. That I’ll live long enough for them to have endless memories of me.”

           “Ain’t no way of knowing, El.” He said with a sympathetic look. “If I knew, I would tell you. I’d tell you anything you wanted to know.”

           “I know you would.” Ella cradled Sofia close as she had fallen asleep.

           Ezra had abandoned his toy car and crawled over to Alfie. He used his father’s leg to pull himself up.

           “Hey there.” Alfie picked him up. “Their hair is getting so long.” He brushed Ezra’s hair out of his eyes.

           “Might have to cut it soon.” Ella agreed. Sofia’s hair had started to form bouncy caramel-colored curls that fell to her shoulders. Seeing the twins age made her wonder more about their birth parents. She wondered which biological parent they resembled more. Whether the father knew they even existed. Whether the mother thought about them every night like Ella did.

           Sometimes the mysteries of life were too much for Ella to handle. She was much like Tommy in that way. She was smart and didn’t like when she didn’t know the answer to things. Answers that remained in the future. Answers that may never be revealed. Answers that were always uncertain. Always changing.

           “I feel like I need to make a decision.”

           “Decision ‘bout what?” Alfie asked.

           Ella shrugged. “Feel like the world’s at a tipping point. And either I’m with my family at the head of it or…”

           “Or?”

           “Or I protect what matters most to me.” She chewed on her lip. “You and them.”

           “That’s your choice to make, love. But I don’t know that there’s anything drastic you need to do right now.” He let Ezra back down when the toddler began to whine and squirm in his arms.

           “You know as well as I do that sometimes there isn’t time. Things explode an-and we all have to scramble for cover. That’s when we’re forced into a box with limited choices. Now we have the chance to make the right decision before things explode again.”

           Alfie had to admit that she was making a good deal of sense. All the years he’d know the Shelbys, they weren’t ones to do things slowly and gradually. They did things with a bang. Sometimes things happened in a snap that was beyond their control. But the impact was the same. They bunkered down and fought strategically. If he stepped back from familial bliss, he realized that Ella’s life, and his own, was just a waiting game. They were still in the playing field but they weren’t the ones making moves. Was there an option to remove themselves from the chess board? Was it feasible to step aside?

           “What do you suggest?” Alfie asked.

           Ella shook her head. “The world’s ours if we want it, Alfie. I just want the best for them.”

           He nodded, watching Ezra in a daze. The little boy crawled over to Anthea who was watching him like a hawk. The pit bull’s tail wagged happily as he approached. She stayed still as Ezra played with her ears, flopping them about. Then he placed his hands over her paws. Anthea leaned over to lick his cheek making him squeal happily and clap his hands.

           Alfie smiled. There was so much time left to watch them grow. To see the steps they’d make. Raised as intelligent, polite, respectable members of society. If he had the world, then he’d give it to them. The best education, the safest place to live, all the gifts, and affection. So, one day he’d see them smile at him. Maybe with children of their own. Maybe advancing the world. Making a difference the way Alfie always wanted.

           He cleared his throat and wrapped an arm around Ella’s shoulders. He kissed her temple. “Yeah, the world’s ours. And we can give it to them.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

       Alfie read the newspaper every morning. It was a routine of his for a very long time. In fact, he wasn’t even sure when it had become typical for him. But every morning he took some quiet time to himself to skim articles. Before it had been to learn more about the war, then how things might affect his business, politics, and anything else he thought would be useful information to take into the day.

           The routine had shifted slightly now that he was in Margate and business wasn’t on the forefront of his mind. Every morning he got up to tend to the twins. Sometimes Ella would be up too but usually, it was still too early for her and she slept soundly as he left the bedroom.

           After feeding them and changing them, Alfie would take Ezra and Sofia into the parlor to sit in the big armchair by the window. Sometimes they didn’t want to sit with him, instead opting to play on the floor or pester Cyril and Anthea or each other. But there were some mornings where both toddlers were content to cozy up on his lap and sit quietly with him. Those were his favorite mornings. Holding his children and spending quality time with them.

           That particular morning, Ezra and Sofia were both curled up on his lap, listening to Alfie remark about certain stories. Sofia was fidgeting with Alfie’s Star of David necklace and the chain of his glasses. Ezra was running his little fingers across the page of the newspaper, delighting in the crinkling noise it made.

           Alfie read the front page with a frown. None of it was good in his opinion. They had entered the realm of radical beliefs and such ideologies were gaining traction, much to his horror. None of it could lead to anything good, he just wasn’t sure when the other shoe would drop and what damage it would cause.

           “Unbelievable.” He muttered. “Fucking unbelievable.”

           Sofia babbled and patted Alfie’s beard.

           “Yeah, sheifale, I know.” He smiled slightly but the news was really putting a damper on his spirits. He should’ve known that if a man like Mosley could gain support, there had to be more men like him. And there would be people supporting them. “S’a fucking joke, all of it. All these people ain’t learned their lesson from last time.”

           Sofia smiled, completely clueless as to what her father was talking about. She just enjoyed having the attention.

           “Don’t matter, papa ain’t gonna be brought into this mess, not again,” Alfie assured her.

           Ezra whined and tugged at Alfie’s necklace to pull his father’s attention away from his sister. “Pa…” He stuck out his lower lip.

           Alfie perked up. “What’s that?” He asked. “You saying papa?”

           “Pa…pa…”

           His heart soared and he jumped up with both babies in his arms, dropping the newspaper. “El, Ella!” He rushed into the bedroom.

           His wife lifted her head with a bleary look. “What, what?”

           “Ez, say what you said again.” Alfie sat down on the edge of the bed with both twins on his lap.

           Ella sat up and blinked a few times to wake up. “What was that?”

           “Papa.” Ezra clapped his hands together.

           That woke Ella up immediately. “Papa? You’re saying papa?” She gasped excitedly.

           Alfie was positively chuffed. “Looked right at me and said it, knows that’s who I am.” He beamed. “Ain’t that right, Ez?”

           “Oh, how have they grown up so fast?” She took Ezra from her husband, cradling him close. “They were so little when Tommy brought them here, now look at them.”

           “Soon they’ll be big enough to go out there and change the world for the better.” He nodded but got a faraway look on his face.

           Ella noticed immediately. There wasn’t much Alfie could hide from her so far into their relationship. “Is something on your mind?” She wondered.

           He sighed and leaned back on the bed, propping himself up with his elbows. Sofia sat on his stomach, clapping her hands together and examining the buttons on his waistcoat. “Been reading the news, yeah, and it don’t look good.”

           “What do you mean?”

           “Just don’t know what’s gonna happen with everything. These fucking fascists.” He grumbled and let Sofia wrap her hand around his fingers.

           Had they never met Mosley, Ella would reassure him that things would be fine and the news was just over-exaggerating stories of zealots. But she’d seen the face of evil and knew how cruel people in that party could be. She knew that Mosley wasn’t the only one and he, along with other leaders, was charismatic enough to recruit others. It wasn’t a small movement, and she could understand Alfie’s worry.

           “What do you suggest we do?” She asked.

           He shook his head. For once, he was out of ideas and didn’t have anything to say. What could he? There were people out there who wanted to bring him harm. Not because of what he’d done in business or otherwise, but because of his religion. His fucking religion. It made his head hurt.

           “From the start, all I’ve fucking wanted was to keep you safe. Then once these two came ‘round, I made it a priority, right? But how can I protect them from something I don’t bloody understand. Can’t even guess what’s gonna happen. But it’s here, it’s in the country. And it ain’t good.”

           Ella was dismayed by how much the stress of the world around them wore on him. She knew her husband was the kind of man with very strong convictions. And when something went against those beliefs, he did everything he could to persist against it. But that wasn’t easy when it was a growing political movement. He was just one man, after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

           “How’re the little ones?” Tommy sounded a bit better than he usually did over the phone. Lizzie told Ella the week before that he’d been home more often instead of working. It was nice to hear but Ella was afraid it wouldn’t last. Tommy got bored very easily, he wasn’t born to live a life of quiet luxury out in the countryside. He would get bored and find something else, more trouble to get into.

           Ella just wasn’t sure how to tell that to her sister-in-law. She felt Lizzie already knew but perhaps was still in a state of denial. Thinking that Tommy would come around and drop all the nonsense he’d been carrying on for so long. For the sake of their kids, their marriage, and his own health.

           “They’re good. Ezra said his first word a couple of days ago.” She announced proudly.

           “How about that. Quite the milestone, isn’t it?” Tommy sounded happy but almost as if he were far away. “S’funny how things work out that way.”      

           “What do you mean?” Ella bent down to pick up Sofia who had crawled over to her as she stood by the phone.

           “I knew that when I got the telegram about them at the orphanage, they’d be a perfect fit. Just been thinking about how some things just seem to fall into place.” He explained his musings.  

           Although she didn’t want to end up arguing with her brother, Ella was too tempted to ask. “You must be doing a lot of thinking these days.”

           “I’ve been thinking about the way things used to be.” He admitted in the same detached tone. “When we were all still in Birmingham. You and Ada hadn’t left. John was-John was still alive. We didn’t know anything ‘bout where Michael was. Hadn’t even met Grace yet. None of us had children or anything really. Just had each other.”

           She couldn’t blame Tommy for looking back at the past and realizing how much he missed. He was too focused on making an empire for himself that he failed to acknowledge the bond he had with his family around him.

           “I mean, Christ, even before the fucking war.”

           “Tom, you can’t take things back.” Ella reminded him in a gentle but non-compromising voice. “This is the way things are now. You’ve got Lizzie, and Charlie and Ruby. John and Grace are gone, along with…so many others.” It was hard to even list all the family and friends they’d mourned since the golden period Tommy was referencing. “But that’s just how things are. Can’t do anything but move on.”

           “I don’t know where I’m moving towards, El.” He mumbled. “Every fucking night I have a dream. Dream that I’m in a fog and I can’t see anything. Everything ahead of me’s too difficult to see. But I can’t turn around either.”

           She sighed and allowed Sofia to play with her necklace as she talked. “That’s life, Tommy. There’s nothing more I can say about it. It’s something we all have to come to terms with sooner or later. We aren’t kings and queens. We aren’t gods. We aren’t immortal. We can’t stop time.”

           Tommy didn’t seem to really comprehend the words his sister was saying to him. It was as if he just heard what he wanted to hear. The rest was nonsense, just static. “There’s something bad coming, El.”

           “I know. Alfie’s been saying the same thing.” She agreed. “But I don’t know if there’s anything we can do. I mean, figure it’s up to Parliament or-or…I don’t know.” Before, it was easy to see a solution to a problem. Tommy made it all seem so simple. If there was someone giving them trouble, or they wanted to make trouble, they went in with threats or brute force. But that was on a much smaller scale compared to the entire continent erupting. “That’s why I wanted to call you. I’ve been thinking about options.”

           “Options about what?”

           “Well, given the beliefs of the fascist party, I’m worried whether we’re vulnerable. With Alfie retired and with raising the twins, I don’t want to put ourselves at risk. So if there’s somewhere safer…”

           “Ella, there’s no running from anything. That’s not how we handle things.” Tommy interrupted her on the first whiff of her leaving. The idea sent him into a panic within seconds.

           “Not how we handle things? I don’t care how you handle things, Tom. There isn’t a code of conduct I have to fucking live by that you sign off on. If I have to do something to protect my family, I’ll do it in a heartbeat and it isn’t for you to say.”

           There was a pause before Tommy lost his cool. “This is history repeating itself, isn’t it, El?”

           “Oh, what on Earth are you talking about now. You just-”

           “Your birthday!” He shouted over her. “Your bloody birthday when you up and left because you were afraid. So afraid that you ran right into the arms of Alfie Solomons!”

           Ella’s jaw popped open in absolute shock. It had been years since her brother had been hostile about what happened in 1920. “For Christ’s sake, Tommy, that was almost ten fucking years ago!” She snapped. “And you’re bringing it up now?”

           “What happens when you run, aye? It’s a fucking pattern. So you’re gonna run again? Then what’s going to happen?” He questioned as if he was interrogating her.

           “Y-you-oh my God you’ve lost your goddamn mind. I’m going to protect me family if I have to. Frankly, I don’t care what you think or how it makes you feel.” And with that, Ella slammed the phone back on the receiver.

           Sofia whined and pouted at her mother, a bit unnerved by the shouting which was something she was unfamiliar with. The little girl had been raised in such a peaceful and loving environment. She knew nothing of her family’s magnetism for chaos.

           Ella forced a smile. “It’s okay. I’m sorry for being loud, chavi.” She murmured and kissed her daughter’s cheek. “Now let’s go talk to papa about how crazy Uncle Tommy is.”

//Next update is the epilogue!!

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Masterpost

PB Masterlist

[xlovegoods]

Is that XENOPHILIUS LOVEGOOD we can see entering the Ministry of Magic? Our records tell us that they were born on MARCH 20th 1952 and are a TWENTY-SEVEN year old, PUREBLOOD who currently works as the EDITOR AND CHIEF OF THE QUIBBLER. Some have said that they can be described as being ENTHUSIASTIC, CARING & CREATIVE, however, they also see themselves as being OVERCRITCAL, NAIVE & IMPULSIVE. Apparently, HE look(s) a lot like JAMIE CAMPBELL BOWER, whoever that is, and if they had to pick a side in the war, they would choose to REMAIN NEUTRAL.

basic information

full name: xenophilius bertrand lovegood

name origin: xenophilius- derived from the word “xenophile,” denoting a person attracted to that which is foreign or alien, and derived from the greek root forms “xeno,” meaning alien, strange or guest, and “philia”, meaning friendship, fondness, affection. bertrand- a medieval french form of the given name bertram, the bertrand name means "bright raven," derived from the elements beraht, meaning "bright" or "intelligent" and hramn, meaning "raven." 

nicknames: xeno

age: twenty-seven

birthday: march 20th 1952

hometown: devin, england

sexuality: pansexual

relationship status: engaged to pandora selwyn

languages: english, french

patronus: peacock

hogwarts house: ravenclaw

boggart: loosing pandora 

wand type: 12′’ maple, dragon heartstring, unyielding 

occupation: editor and chief of the quibbler

affiliation: neutral

physical appearance

face claim: jamie campbell bower

hair color: blonde

eye color: blue

height: 6′0

weight: 165 pounds

clothing style: eccentric

personality 

label: the adventurer

positive traits: adventurous, ambitious, creative, enthusiastic, imaginative, passionate, understanding, warmhearted 

negative traits: foolish, impatient, impulsive, naïve, overcritical, sarcastic, stubborn, unpredictable

goals/desires: to have the quibbler succeed, to marry the love of his life, and to one day become a father.

hobbies: painting/drawing, knitting and reading.

zodiac sign: pieces

MBTI: the adventurer

enneagram: type seven - the epicure

temperament: sanguine

moral alignment: chaotic good

primary vice: pride

primary virtue: temperance

element: water

favorites

weather: rain

color: purple

music: elton john, the beatles 

books: grimm’s fairytales, the adventures of sherlock holmes, lord or the rings

sport: none

beverage: butterbeer

food: steak and kidney pie

animal: all of them

family

father: lazerus lovegood, 47, magizoologist

mother: zélie lovegood (nee beaufort), 46, artist

sibling(s): geneviève lovegood, 15, hogwarts student

children: none

pet(s): northern saw-whet owl named frodo

favorites

weather: rain

color: purple

music: elton john, the beatles 

books: grimm’s fairytales, the adventures of sherlock holmes, lord or the rings

sport: none

beverage: herbal tea

food: steak and kidney pie

animal: all of them

biography

growing up, xenophilius was extremely loved as a child. they spent most of their time together and kind of referred to themselves as the three musketeers (until his little sister came along and then they called themselves the four musketeers). lazarus and zélie lovegood were very accepting parents, they always encouraged xenophilius to be whoever he wanted to be and do whatever he wanted to do. as long as he was happy with who he was and what he was doing, that was all that mattered to them. at a young age, xenophilius had a knack for adventure. his father, being a magizoologist, was always out studying the creatures of the world and xenophilius was able to accompany him most times. this made him develop a love for every beast he laid eyes on.

during his school years, xenophilius didn’t really fit in much. due to not having other children around him most of his childhood, he spent a lot of time in his imagination. he created his own friends, his own world, and even his own creatures. with him spending so much time away from reality, xenophilius was getting confused at what was real and what wasn’t. he started to believe the things he imagined were real and with him being very open about his beliefs, he talked about those things constantly. this labeled him as an outcast by most of his peers. there were only a few who accepted him for his outrageous beliefs and xenophilius held those people very close to his heart. 

when it came to his studies, xenophilius struggled a bit. his marks were mediocre to say the least and he knew that he could do better but focusing was so hard for him, especially in subjects that did not really interest him. it seemed that during class, he was always stuck in a dream about something and once he was, it was hard to snap out of it. lucky for him, some fellow ravenclaws would always bring him back to reality. the last remaining years at hogwarts ended up going by very fast for xenophilius. before he knew it, he graduated and was finally able to 

for the last seven years or so, xenophilius traveled the world. if he were going to create a successful tabloid, he needed the right facts to put inside it. with nothing but a knapsack on his back and a notebook in his hand, he went from the jungles of india to the forests of canada and everything else along the way. after returning home from his travels, xenophilius got to work on creating the very first issue of the quibbler. it didn’t take long for him to realize that he was going to need some help. lucky enough, he had pandora, one of his dearest friends, to help him and after a couple of months, their years friendship soon turned to love. xenophilius was infatuated by her and she always found ways to surprise him.

it has been nearly two years since the first issue of the quibbler was released to the public and xenophilius is enjoying his newly found “fame” very much. there was always a part of him that knew it was going to be a success and it was, to an extant. some thought his beliefs to be fascinating and exciting, while others thought they were ridiculous and untrue. some praised him for what he wrote and others laughed in his face and called him a lunatic, but it never stopped him from publishing more issues. xenophilius did not have the time to care about what others thought of him now that there was a war brewing and the fact that he is now engaged to pandora. what xenophilius needed to focus on now was how to keep his beloved and the rest of his family safe, which is why he chose to remain neutral, for the safety of the ones he loves. 

wanted connections

best friend

friends

unlikely friends

rivals

drinking buddies

drunk friends

platonic soulmates

these are just ideas, we can def brainstorm