#watching things be this unfair i am now wondering if i clutch tightly to the belief i did something wrong because if i didn’t the situation

[3-aem]

Hey there. Just a quiet bystander who's been following your work for a while. I just wanted to say that from an external point of view if just seems that this person is extremely jealous of your talent and is trying to do everything in their power to ruin your life. They must have an extremely miserable and unfulfilling life and can only find joy on trying to make people as miserable as they are. Probably some very bad inferiority complex, they must be thrilled every time they get a reaction out of you. So please don't let them bring you down, do your best to ignore them and they most likely will eventually tire and look for a new victim, that's how this kind of hateful people is. They don't deserve your energy and attention. Lots of love for you from Chile.

i know. i have seen that sentiment and i appreciate you saying this to remind me.

but it is difficult still for me because i really don’t enjoy making people upset and it is hard for me to hear. it really affects me to see. so i want to fix it but when i realize i can’t its hard to handle. maybe also, they did finally make me as miserable as them and thats why i am saying anything at all. dealing with it internally finally became as painful as me just saying it.

[pamgkrthwrites]

2500 please?

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Fandom: BNHA

Pairing: Dad!Bakugou x F!Reader

Themes: Bakugou is not the perfect dad but is trying his best, based off of a TikTok Sound

Summary: You get a call from your nearly 16-year-old daughter at 2 a.m. asking for $2500.

Word Count: 1K

Tag List: @optimisticprime3 @dreamcastgirl99 (Sorry if I've forgotten or gotten someone's tag wrong)

A/N: I should've been working on an assignment instead of this....

“Hey mama, do you have $2500 you can send me?” You heard your 15-year-old daughter’s voice through the phone.

You leaned up in your and Katsuki’s bed, looking at the time. “Katsumi, it’s 2 am. What do you possibly need $2500 for?” Your head hot the pillow before you suddenly sat u straight. “Katsumi, where are you?”

“Um-” You heard your daughter’s voice go weak though you could still hear her smile over the phone. “An escape room?”

“The truth, Katsumi.” You warned, sitting up in your bed.

“... Prison?”

You sat up straight, your eyes open wide. “PRISON?!”

Your husband Katsuki sturred awake, mumbling some curses.

“You can’t tell daddy!” Katsumi’s voice strained. “My friends and I were just goofing around-”

“Can’t tell me what?” You heard Katsuki's grumbly voice say before you turned your head, seeing your very tired 42-year-old husband. He grabbed your phone as he sat up, pulling it to his ear. “What did you do and where are you?”

You heard your daughter's voice become quieter and you could imagine her doing the thing she’s done since she was 3 and got in trouble with your husband. Lower lip pouting, looking down with hands behind her back and kicking rockings with her feet.

“... My friends and I snuck out and we went to a party and the cops were called and apparently there were drugs-”

“Drugs?!” Katsuki’s voice boomed. “You’re doing drugs?!”

“Nononono!” Katsumi panickingly rushed out. “There happened to be drugs there! That’s why we got arrested-”

“ARRESTED?!” Katsuki was going to pop a blood vessel with how angry he was.

You heard your youngest daughter Fuku crying now from her room. You gave your husband a look, but all you saw was anger behind his eyes. He took a deep as he clutched onto your phone tightly. 

“Where are you being held?” He asked through gritted teeth as he signalled to you to check on your 7-year-old daughter.

You groaned as you got out of bed to go check on your youngest.

Katsuki waited until you left the room before glaring at the phone as if Katsumi could see his glare. “You’ll be grounded for 2 months, your birthday party is cancelled and you’ll write your mother an apology letter.”

“What?! But that's so unfair!-”

“Do you want me to come pick you up or do you just want to walk straight home?” You snapped at his daughter.

“... Fine…”

The drive from the police station was long and awkward. Katsumi wondered if her father was driving the long way home just so the guilt would eat her alive. She looked up at Katsuki with her eyes, the same eyes that you had.

He was silently fuming.

She looked out of the sports car passenger window, looking at her reflection in the side mirror. Her eyeliner was smudged and her father’s wheat-blonde hair looked messy with your hair texture on her head.

“Where’s mama?” She asked.

“At home. Someone had to watch your sisters.” He answered coldly. 

When he noticed he was getting close to the street they lived on, he parked on the side of the road close to the park he used to take Katsumi to.

She stared at the park, remembering when she first got her quirk at the said park when she was 4. How you held her so closely with a smile and spun her around while Katsuki just watched, realising Katsumi had his same quirk.

“Why did you go?” He asked her, trying to keep a level head.

“I just wanted to do something fun with my friends.”

“You’re 16 in 4 days!” He pointed out to her. “You shouldn’t have snuck out! What if something worse happened than just drugs happening?”

“Why would you care-”

“Because you are my daughter, Katsumi!” Katsuki tried to hold back a tempered response. You told him to be gentle. He was never really good at it. He tapped his finger on the steering wheel. “Is this about that boy at school?”

The lack of a response from Katsumi confirmed it Katsuki. He took a breath in trying to not get angry.

“I know you don’t like him-”

“Understatement of the year, Sumi.” Katsuki butted in.

“-but I really like him!” Katsumi had small tears in her eyes and her fists clenched.

Katsuki was silent, tapping his finger on the wheel. 

“... Don’t change yourself for some boy, Katsumi.” Katsuki said to her. “If you’re going to date, don’t make it a life lesson for yourself.”

Katsumi turned her head away from her father, crossing her arms. “Whatever.”

Katsumi barged through the front door, avoiding making eye contact with you as she made her way to her bedroom, passing her sisters’ rooms along the way. She slammed the door shut and locked the door, leaving you and Katsuki alone with high tension lingering in the house.

“What did you say to her?” You asked him with a raised brow.

“I told her not to change for that stupid boyfriend.” You angrily answered as he made his way back to your two’s bedroom.

Once you closed the door did he take off his shoes and shirt before getting back into bed. You sat beside him and gently rubbed his old man's back.

“Was he at that party?” You asked Katsuki gently.

“I don’t fucking know-! Probably!” He groaned, burrowing his face into a pillow.

“... Maybe we need to have the talk with her-” You stopped yourself when you saw the nasty look Katsuki was giving you. “Don’t act like that, Katsu. I started having sex when I was around her age.”

“With who?” He glared, his possessiveness over you still strong as ever, even after 18 years of marriage.

You just rubbed his back. “Not important. You have to accept that she’s going to start dating, there isn’t much you can do about that.”

Katsuki sighed, getting comfortable in bed. “Let’s just go to sleep. It’s 3am.”

You leaned down and kissed Katsuki’s forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

[cazimagines]

Could I request Laszlo reacting to his wife dying in child birth? Sorry if that's too dark, I enjoy your writing and was in such an angsty mood :)

Warnings: Death, Sad Laszlo

A/N: As I got to the main part (you'll know what part) terrible things by mayday parade started to play and like the timing was so perfect because it fits so well and now I am sobbing.

Extra A/N: Okay literally out of every song on my sad playlist it's choosing all the ones about or that can be associated with death, this is unfair. First 'Terrible things', then 'if I die young' and now 'all I want'. Wtf.

- You and Laszlo were so excited to start your family. You still remember the moment first moment you told Laszlo you were pregnant. You don't think he had ever kissed you as passionately as he did at that moment. He was crying tears of joy as he managed to rest both his hands on the slight bump.

- He became so protective of you, being extremely cautious about everything you did so that you were okay. His arm would be constantly wrapped around you, helping you to new places as it got harder for you to move around.

- Every night he would whisper to you how excited he was your child to be born. He would tell you all the things he planned to do with the child, places he would show them, books he would read, all that he would teach him. In his life he had always been searching for some purpose, it's why he started the institute but he had never felt more like he had found his purpose when you told him you were pregnant. Everything just felt right.

- He'd shower you in kisses every day, telling you how wonderful you were, how beautiful you were. How he loved and adored every little thing about you. John often remarked that he never thought he would see Laszlo expressing his feelings so much until you came along.

- Unfortunately, Laszlo was not at home when your contractions started. You and Sara were having a tea party in the garden when you felt your water break. She managed to guide you into the living room to lay down on the bed, where she managed to call John who rushed to go and fetch Laszlo from his work

- You were screaming in pain as you clutched Sara's hand tightly, it was one of the worst feelings you felt. You wanted it to all be over but the shock waves of pain kept crashing into you and you were beginning to feel so weak. There was a ringing in your head as your eyes became blurry from the pain as you tried to breathe in and out. From the side of your eyes, you could see Sara become paler as he gathered lots of sheets to try and stop the blood from staining the sofa. She didn't know much about giving birth but she didn't believe there should be as much blood as to what was currently coming out of you

- Laszlo had never sprinted so fast to his carriage. After John ran into the room he was in with Theodore what was happening he had charged into it and told Cyrus to get him back to the house as quickly as possible. Already a lot of time had been lost with how long it had taken for John to be informed and then to find out where Laszlo was and rushed to get him.

- As he arrived pain stuck his heart as he heard your shouts of pure pain even from outside the house. He quickly barged into the house, frantically looking for where you were. Usually, men waited outside the room for the baby to be born but he couldn't bear being away from this moment, plus it was unlikely they would be able to get you to a hospital in time and he was the only one even slightly qualified to deal with this.

- He was at your side the whole time, letting you clutch his hand tightly as you squeezed. He kissed your forehead lots of times reassuring you that you were doing great and that it would all be over soon as he anxiously watched where you were pushing. There was so much blood, more than there should be and he didn't need to know from Sara whispering to him 'something is wrong' but everything would be okay. They had to be. They will be.

- After hours the baby emerged. John helped Laszlo pull the child, which was a girl out, and positioned her in his arm. Laszlo's eye sparkled with joy as he looks down at his daughter. 'Look y/n' he mumbles, bringing your daughter over to your side but as he looked back up at you, panic gripped him. You were barely conscious and the ghost of a smile was on your lips as your half-closed eyes looked over at Laszlo holding your child in his arms.

- You shakingly lifted your hand slightly, whispering to Laszlo to hold your hand. He passed your daughter to Sara as he clasped your hand. He started begging you to stay awake, to keep pushing through and that you would be okay as he covered your hand in kisses and clasped it tightly to his chest. His eyes swarmed with tears as you shook your head slightly. 'I love you Laszlo' you whisper before your eyes finally close and your hand goes slack in his.

- He screamed, cried, let out all sorts of noises as he clasped your body, pulling it over to cradle in his arms. Sara and John quickly left the room taking your daughter with them so that Laszlo could have this moment of peace. Tears flowed out of his eyes and fell onto your ever-growing cold skin. He kissed your forehead, closing his eyes as he whispered at you to come back, that he couldn't do this without you, but you never did.

- For the next month Laszlo was an echo of himself. He hardly talked to anyone or interacted with any of the kids at the institute. It was as if a part of himself switched off the day you died. What was supposed to be the happiest day of his life became his worst. Sara stayed around the first few nights looking after your daughter as Laszlo grieved but after a while, she had to go. Laszlo wanted nothing more than to be with his daughter but every time he looked at her he felt the pain of losing you come straight back.

- He blamed himself entirely for your death. He was the doctor he should be done more to ensure your safety, he should have never left you alone that day. It was stupid of him to ever consider working when you were due, if he had been there he could have taken you to a proper hospital. John tried to tell him that it was just a cruel twist of fate and there was nothing else Laszlo could have done but Laszlo refused to listen. He was to blame, that was sure.

- Laszlo hired a nanny to help look after your daughter. He knew in the state he was he couldn't look after her, he needed help. He assumed after a few months he would be able to take on more of a parental role for her but the pain never faded. Especially as the more your daughter grew the more he realised she was a spitting image of you.

- It was like she became another child of the institute. He would watch her play with the other children but he was almost a stranger to her. After missing out on those early years of bonding he just didn't know how to anymore. He desperately wanted to, he would push all the pain he felt inside to try and to talk to her, ask how her day is, even try to take her out to the fair which he thought she might enjoy. But his mind always wandered back to imaging doing all these things with his daughter with you. In the awkward silence between him and his daughter was the reminder that you were no longer there.

- In the end, he had to settle to knowing he would never be as close to his daughter as he truly wanted to, he had to watch her be happy from the side as he slowly caved inwards from his grief.

A/N: I'm so sorry

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[kexkiji]

Stargazing with prince Bakugo

Pairing: prince!Bakugo Katsuki x princess!reader

Genre: fluff, fantasy AU/ royal AU

Authors note: I wrote this for a friend but I wanted to share it ^-^

He wasn’t the politest of princes you had ever met...

No, Bakugo was blunt.

Painfully so.

He’d tell you when your hair was a mess. Tell you when you looked tired.

But that didn’t mean Bakugo was a bad prince.

No, Bakugo was good. Maybe a little chaotic, but good. He played things fair. Never fought in an unfair battle, but never gave up when he was outnumbered.

By the time the two of you were to be wed, as a truce between your kingdom and his, he’d acquired his fair amount of battle scars. Mostly small slash wound scars from past battles or sparring matches. The coolest one you found so far was the one on his jawline. It was small, but it’s placement brought out his facial features.

But recently, you’d found a scar you’d never seen before.

Stepping down the stone steps and into the balcony which was littered with moss-covered stones and plants, you watched the steam rise from the onsen. You were still getting accustomed to this new castle. Bakugo’s kingdom was seated directly on the side of the mountain, the castle itself cut from the very same stone.

You noticed his bare shoulders through the steam of the hot spring. Slowly, you walked forward, clutching your towel to yourself.

“U-Uh... can I join you?” You muttered softly.

“Mhm.” Bakugo nodded with closed eyes as he scooted over just a bit, even though the hot spring was plenty big enough for the both of you. You muttered out at quiet “ok” before slipping the towel off and sliding into the water. Slowly, you glanced over at the blonde-haired man, who had his arms spread out alongside the stone edge of the hot spring. Your eyes widened when you noticed his chest. It had to be the biggest scar he had, pinkish flesh spreading across his heart in a thick line.

“Is that one new...?” You asked softly as you raised your hand from the water to point.

“Mm?” Bakugo opened his eyes and glanced down to where you were pointing.

“No, I've had it for two years now.” He looked back at you, his eyes searching your face.

“I suppose I never noticed it...” you mumbled, your eyes trailing on the healed wound.

“How’d you get it...?” You whispered, leaning closer to trace the skin. Bakugo felt his cheeks heat up at the contact.

“On an expedition with some knights... had to fight eastern monsters.” He muttered.

“You do love joining the knights, don’t you...?” You hummed amusedly.

“What? Expect me to sit around inside the castle? Do I look like a Todoroki to you?” He grinned teasingly.

“I suppose not.” You nodded with a smile.

“Your book...” Bakugo muttered, curiosity in his rough tone.

“What about it...?” You looked up into his crimson eyes.

“... have you finished it yet?” He asked in a mumbled- almost shy tone.

“Oh? You’re interested?” You smiled widely.

“Of course I am, idiot!” He glared at you, which didn’t last long as he began to smile a little.

“Yes, I finished it just yesterday.” You returned his growing smile.

“What was it about?” He tilted his head slightly.

“The alchemy users in the west.” You responded, recalling the book’s contents.

“Alchemy users?” Bakugo’s eyes widened a little.

This had to be his favorite thing about you.

You were teeming with knowledge of things he’d never heard of. Things he’d never been taught in school. He could listen to you talk about your interests for hours, soaking in everything you knew like a sponge.

Usually, he’d get angry if someone blabbered on about things they knew.

But you... you spoke to him in a way that he felt he would never get tired of.

“You can borrow the book if you want to read it...?” You offered gently. Bakugo nodded, looking off at the distant sunset. Your eyes followed his gaze, listening to the soft trickle of water and the gentle rustle of leaves as the cool wind blew. You watched the sunset, fading beams of light dipping past the horizon.

“Pretty isn’t it...?” You muttered, turning to rest your front against the edge of the hot spring and face the fading light. You stared dreamily up at the ever-darkening sky, watching as stars began to flicker into sight. You heard a soft exhale of breath from Bakugo.

“Yeah.” He closed his eyes for a moment before gazing up at the sky as well.

“How many do you think are up there...?” He wondered aloud as he gazed up at the twinkling lights.

“Millions.” You whispered. A small smile spread onto his lips as he looked back down at you, moving to sit a little closer to you.

•

•

•

•

Now clothed, with a blanket draped over your shoulders as you stared up at the stars, your legs dangled from the balcony. The soft padding of footsteps caught your attention and you turned your head. Bakugo sat beside you, smelling of faint soaps. His legs joined yours in dangling over the balcony, his clothed leg brushing yours.

“Doesn’t it feel... a little... strange? Looking up at them?” You whispered, sleepy eyes focusing on one star and then flicking to look at the next.

“Like you’ve forgotten something...? Or... the feeling of missing home?” You whispered. Bakugo’s eyes stayed on you, admiring your face from the side with a thoughtful look. He turned slowly to gaze up at the stars.

“Makes me want to go on an adventure.” He muttered. You let out a laugh, closing your eyes for a moment.

“Me too.” You agreed, turning to gaze at him. He turned in time with you, staring into your eyes before he leaned a little closer. You felt a warm hand at the back of your head as he pulled you in for a kiss.

“I love you.” He muttered with closed eyes, leaning closer for another kiss. You greeted his lips happily, thankful for these times when Katsuki let his guard down and showed his softer side.

“I love you.” You whispered back with a smile as he pulled away. His hand remained at the back of your head as he brought your head down to rest on his shoulder. You scooted a little closer to him, torso brushing against his as he brought an arm around you. You closed your eyes, rubbing the knuckles of his right hand with a thumb. Bakugo’s left stroked your side gently, slowly leaning his head onto yours as his breathing slowed.

Feelings of comfort and warmth enveloped you, even with the cool mountain breeze on your cheeks. You gazed down at the small, glowing lights of the kingdom. The smell of Katsuki circled you as you closed your eyes once more.

Bakugo was warm... and his presence felt safe and strong.

It took a while for your feelings for him to develop. On the outside, he appeared rude and aggressive... but spending more time with him revealed a bit more of how Katsuki really was.

Opening your eyes and staring into his... noticing the little flecks of gold in his red hues... the small marks that littered his skin... you remembered just how much you loved him.

You loved when he teased you in the morning, pulling you into a headlock and kissing your cheek.

When he hugged you from behind.

And right now... while his hand stroked your side and he stared sleepily into your eyes with a love you didn’t think you’d see from a man like him...

You pressed a kiss to his lips, smiling as he let out a small sigh.

“I love you...” You whispered against his lips.

“Love you too...” he mumbled softly, pressing his forehead to yours.

You wrapped your arms around him just as he began to do the same. His strong arms pulling you tightly against him.

Warm...

So... incredibly warm...

[searchingwardrobes]

It’s Been . . . a DAY 2/3

One month a few days, and finally I bring you chapter two! Sorry for the wait. Are you ready for Killian to have a bad day? And maybe a certain blonde makes it better?

Summary: Emma Swan bursts into Killian’s life in spectacular fashion - when her three year old pees on his office floor. Nevertheless, Killian is mesmerized by this tenacious woman. Perhaps fate will let them cross paths again …

Rated: G

Words: Just a bit over 2k in this chapter

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Chapter Two:

“That’ll be $2.50.”

It’s an innocuous statement, or it normally would be, but Killian has just escaped the office after a particularly nasty run-in with Zelena Green. Escaped her demands for the most ridiculous tax deductions (with no receipts, mind you) along with her shrill screeching and her terrifying claws - ahem, manicure - so swiftly that he apparently ran to the coffee shop empty handed. 

“Um . . .” Killian’s panic mounts as he pats his jeans pockets and then his leather jacket with no success. “I think,” he chuckles awkwardly and throws the barista a lopsided and charming (he hopes) smile, “I forgot my wallet.”

The barista simply arches a brow at him, communicating quite clearly that she is immune to his wiles. She braces her arms on the counter and leans towards him.

“It’s still $2.50.”

He clutches the to-go cup in his hand so tightly that it threatens to pop the lid. 

“I heard you, lass, and I plan on giving you the money. I just need to run back to the office -”

“You’re not going anywhere until you give me two dollars and fifty cents.”

For a moment, he wants to snap at her, but he learned long ago that he can catch more flies with honey than vinegar. He leans his hip against the counter casually, lowers his gaze a bit, and gives the barista his best smolder.

“You’re a good worker . . .” he finds her name tag, “Ashley. I admire that. I promise you can trust me. My office is only down the block. I’ll be back in a flash.”

“Or I’ll never see you again. Just give me the damn $2.50. I got my pay docked last week for the tinder being short, and I sure as hell won’t let it happen again.”

This is clearly not his day. 

“$2.50 you said?” a voice over his shoulder asks. 

Killian spins, recognizing that voice. His eyes widen with joy when he sees none other than Emma Swan standing there with a sparkle in her green eyes and a smirk on her lips. She leans around him to set her cup beside his. 

“Just put his on my bill,” she tells the barista.

“I can’t let you do that,” he starts to protest, but Emma lifts a hand to stop his words. 

“It’s the least I can do after . . . well, what happened to your floors.”

He chuckles lightly, and she blushes even as she shakes her head and lifts her gaze to the ceiling as if to say what’s a mother to do though, right?

“Fine by me,” Ashley says with a shrug, ringing up Emma’s purchase. “So that’ll be $6.15.”

Killian grimaces inwardly - this is a local place, and the prices are steep - but Emma doesn’t even flinch as she scans her card and then takes the receipt. She turns to Killian with a smile, holding out his to-go cup. 

“I am in your debt,” he tells her. 

Emma rolls her eyes and waves her hand. “Are you kidding? We’re even now.”

Killian racks his brain for a way to prolong this little encounter, but before his mind can connect to his vocal chords, Emma turns to the bar that holds the cream, sugar, and various shakers of spices. He hovers, his brain still refusing to cooperate, as she removes the lid of her cup and shakes some cinnamon on the swirls of whipped cream inside. He practically jumps when she ends up breaking the awkward silence first. 

“You see, I didn’t really mind adding your $2.50 to my order. That’s nothing in this place.” She snaps the lid back on her cup and turns to face him. “Let me guess, regular coffee, black?”

He nods, a smile curling his lips as he takes a sip of said coffee. “Aye. And yours is?”

“Hot chocolate, actually. Most expensive thing on the menu besides the pastries, which is just unfair, in my opinion.”

Their gazes connect over the rims of their cups, and Killian catalogues the new information. She prefers hot chocolate over coffee, with whipped cream and cinnamon. 

“That doesn’t happen to you often, does it?” she asks.

“Forgetting my wallet?”

“No, your charm not working.”

Killian tilts his head back and laughs. Then he saunters closer to her, bends his head, and lowers his voice. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

She doesn’t seem to be visibly affected by his flirting in the least. Instead, she tosses him a casual smirk, one eyebrow arching. “Perhaps I would.”

His heart hammers in his chest as he searches her eyes. This woman is a bloody marvel. He had seen it even when she was falling apart in his office, and it’s even clearer now when she’s the one in control. His gaze falls to her lips, and he can’t help wetting his own. Abruptly, she clears her throat  and takes a step back. 

“I . . . uh, I really need to get back to my stuff.”

She hurries over to a table by the window and starts gathering up a laptop and some books and papers. A highlighter marker falls off and rolls across the floor. Killian picks it up and hands it to her. 

“Thanks,” she mutters, color staining her cheeks. 

“Work?”

“Uh, no,” she stammers, tucking hair behind both ears, “it’s school. My current job sucks, quite frankly, so I’m trying to get my degree.”

“That’s admirable,” Killan tells her sincerely. “In what?”

“Dental hygiene,” she wrinkles her nose adorably. “I know that’s stupid.”

Killian frowns. “Why in the world would you say that?”

Emma shrugs. “I mean, who likes teeth?”

He arches both brows as he bites down on his lower lip. “I can think of some reasons people would.”

She rolls her eyes again and smacks him in the arm. “You know what I mean!”

They both laugh then as he rubs at his arm exaggeratedly. “Okay, seriously, dentists like teeth. I mean, I assume they do.”

Emma shakes her head. “I don’t think so. I mean, maybe some, but mostly I think they just know it will make them lots of money.”

“And that’s why you want to be a dental hygienist?”

Emma lifts her messenger bag and loops it over her shoulder. “I don’t need to be rich, but secure would be nice. I want to give Henry a good life, you know? And dental hygiene is steady work, steady pay, and good hours.”

Emma doesn’t seem to mind when Killian walks beside her as they leave the coffee shop. 

“You’re a good mother, Emma. I still fail to see where any of that is stupid.”

She hitches the bag further up her shoulder, then takes another sip of her hot chocolate. “I don’t know. Aren’t I supposed to be studying something I’m passionate about? Instead, I’m being completely pragmatic. All I need for this career is an associate’s degree, which will take way less time and money.”

“I think we put way too much pressure on people to find a career - a passion, as you say. At the end of the day, a job is pragmatic. We need money to live, and a job gives us that.”

“Is that why you became an accountant?” Emma tilts her head and studies him as she asks the question. “You don’t seem the type. No offense.”

He scratches behind his ear. “None taken. And yes, I make good money at it, so that’s part of it. Liam and I went our entire childhood barely surviving, so we both vowed to change that when we were old enough.”

“I get that,” Emma mutters into her cup of hot chocolate. Killian wonders at the comment, but doesn’t press her. 

“I do like numbers, though, so does Liam. We both excelled at that when we were in the Navy, and . . .” he shook his head. “It’s a dull story. We’ll just use the cliche the rest is history.”

Emma laughs, a free and easy thing in the early spring air, and Killian wants to hold onto it. For some reason, he gets the impression it’s a rare sound from her. 

“I suppose going to school for accounting is about as interesting as dental hygiene.”

“Well, then, here’s to making a living,” he tells her cheerfully, extending his coffee cup. 

She taps it with her cup of cocoa. “To making a living.”

They both sip, the air becoming charged again as their gazes linger. Then Emma glances over his shoulder, and her eyes light up. 

“Flowers!” 

She hurries over to the sidewalk display and picks up a bunch of snowdrops. “These are Mary Margaret’s favorite,” she said with a smile. 

“Really? Elsa loves them too,” Killian says, gently touching a delicate white blossom. “Who is Mary Margaret?”

“My sister,” Emma tells him, her smile fond, “foster sister, technically. Eva and Leopold adopted me when I was twelve and Mary Margaret was sixteen. I was a terror, let me tell you.”

“You had been through a lot of pain, I’m sure.”

Emma studies him for a moment, slight surprise lighting her eyes. “Yeah, I had . . . but the three of them loved me anyway. And now, well, Mary Margaret is both my sister and my best friend. She and Eva both watch Henry for me while I work and study.”

“What about Leopold?”

Emma buries her nose in the snowdrops, “He passed away when I was still in high school.”

“I’m so sorry.”

Emma gives her head a quick shake. “The point is, Mary Margaret and Eva are both the absolute best. I don’t know what I would do without them. David’s not bad either, I guess.” She chuckles fondly.

“David?” He assumes by her laughter that he isn’t a boyfriend. Please don’t let him be a boyfriend.

“Mary Margaret’s husband. They’re newlyweds and completely nauseating.”

Killian treasures each tiny nugget of Emma’s life and files it carefully away. He wants to know so much more. How did she come to have Henry? Why is she raising him alone? What pain was she forced to endure those first twelve years of her life? Though he can imagine that last one fairly well. He and Liam had spent nearly that long shuffled from home to home after their mother’s death, Brennan Jones never wanting to take responsibility for his sons. 

“I want to buy these for Jones & Jones,” Emma tells him, “as a thank you.”

“We’ve told you that it was no trouble. Besides, you bought my coffee, remember?”

Emma shakes her head. “I’ve been meaning to come by with flowers all week, but I was just too embarrassed. Please let me.”

Killian nods, albeit a bit reluctantly. He guesses that Emma is on a tight budget. She said her job sucks, and she’s caring for a toddler while also putting herself through school. He’s sure the small family she mentioned helps when they can, but still, she already spent over six dollars at the coffee shop, thanks to him. However, he can already see that she is a lass of great pride. He doesn’t want to insult her by refusing the gift. 

Emma purchases the flowers, and then she walks with him the rest of the way to Jones & Jones. Elsa exclaims over the flowers just as Killian expected her to, even enveloping Emma in a hug. Ariel hugs her too and asks about Henry. Even Liam is lured away from his desk, and he ends up showing off pictures of little Ian to Emma. He and Elsa swap funny stories about raising a three year old, and before long, an hour has passed. 

“Oh my God,” Emma suddenly gasps, ���what time is it?”

“Almost five,” Elsa tells her. 

“Shit, I’ve gotta go. Mary Margaret is expecting me soon, and Henry gets cranky when dinner is late.”

Killian stands there like an idiot as Emma rushes out in a whirlwind, leaving her now cold hot chocolate on the edge of Killian’s desk. 

“Please tell me you asked her out this time,” Liam says once the door has shut behind her. 

Killian groans. He didn’t even get her number. 

“Maybe you’ll run into her again?” Ariel suggests, but there isn’t much faith in her voice.

Not that Killian blames her for her doubt. Fate gave him a second chance, and he doesn’t hold out much hope that it will give him a third. 

[strawberrylemonz]

Accepted Invitation

Part 1

Part 2 [CURRENT]

Part 3

DT: @bargledblocks my beloved <3 and @snapdragonfirefly my beloved <3

“Chat, stop being dickheads.”

Kristin shook her head as she narrowed her eyes at Phil, who smiled at her.

“He gets that from you.”

“What? Never! He must have learned it from someone else!”

As the two playfully bickered, accusing each other of starting Tommy’s cursing habit, they failed to notice the guilty look that covered the twin’s expression. Ghostbur, not being able to read the atmosphere or situation, whispered in a loud manner.

“Heeeeeey, didn’t we teach him how to curse.”

“You two did what?”

“Nothing! Let’s move on!”

Tommy hummed as he happily navigated through the unfamiliar Portal Hub. He had heard stories of what it was like from his father and brothers, so he was more than excited to finally navigate through it himself. Look at him go! TommyInnit, the most badass adventurer around! He would be so cool, just like his family!

“What is he doing on the main server? Why is he walking around the Portal Hub?”

“I don’t know, but does it matter?”

“Of course it does-!”

“Does not.”

Just as he was about to enter a different section of the Portal Hub, the sound of a small peep caught his attention. Turning around with a smile, he held out his hand as he caught a baby chick, gently petting it with his finger. 

“Hello, little guy. New god?”

“Yes, little chick, I am!”

“Did Clara and Mother lead you my way?”

“They did! They couldn’t help but say good things about you, so I just had to come and see you for myself! I hope I’m not going to stay this small forever.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll get bigger the longer you stick around with me. Mother and Clara are already fully grown chickens, but there’s other deities who are still puffy chicks, like you.”

“Wonderful! Can I stay on your person?”

“Sure, why not? Here, just stay there.”

“Thank you, young chick.”

“Not a problem!”

“I’m sorry, gods?”

“Are you telling me that Tommy’s just as crazy as his family? I mean, come on, Chat? Voices? Obvious red flag-”

“That’s not very nice, Dream.”

Dream frowned and tried to cover his ears, doing his best to block out Ghostbur. Techno and Wilbur just sat in silence, watching the form of their brother as he happily interacted with his voices, with his chat. He seemed so much more in control than they ever were at his age. Overall, they were just shocked that he even had a chat, and they didn’t know. Watching the interaction, Ranboo voiced his observation.

“Hey, Tommy kinda has what Phil does.”

“What do you mean, Boo?”

“Phil has a bunch of crows that follow him around, Tommy has baby chicks. Kinda funny, if you ask me.”

Tommy smiled as he tucked the chick into his shirt pocket, happy to see the little fella content. Peering into his satchel, he smiled as he nodded to a small group of chicks huddled in there, peering up at him. Their peeps comforted him as he entered the new area, clutching the straps of both his backpack and satchel tightly in his grip. Mumbling as he studied the different portals, he couldn’t help but snort as familiar clucking caught his attention. Turning around, he waved as a clucking chicken ran to him, flapping into his arms.

“Hello, Mother.”

Quackity snorted, only to quickly move to cover his mouth. Kristin raised an eyebrow as she turned to face him, curiosity painting her face. Nervous laughter erupted from the man’s throat as he scratched the back of his neck, trying to explain.

“It’s just, seeing him call a chicken mother was kind of funny.”

Kristin laughed as she nodded in agreement, she and Clara sharing knowing looks.

“It is funny, yeah.”

The chicken clucked as she rested her head on his shoulder, snuggling in. Waiting as he held her close, he smiled as a red aura came off the chicken, forming a mass in front of him. Floating there, arms crossed, was Kristin. Humming as she looked around the area, she spoke up in a confident manner.

“Joining your Chat was one of the smartest things I’ve ever done. Now I just need to track down your brothers and join their Chats, talk some sense into them during my free time.”

“Good to see you too, Mum.”

Kristin chuckled as she shook her head. Pressing her lips together, she gave her youngest son a pointed look.

“Now, Tommy, why are you here? You should be at home, with the others. The Hub is a big and unpredictable place, no nine year old should be wandering around here unsupervised.”

“But I’m not unsupervised, you’re here!”

Placing her hands on her hips, she shook her head as she sharpened her look, making the child avoid her gaze.

“I mean by someone who is physically there to watch you.”

“I don’t need a babysitter, Mum, I’m a Big Man!”

“I don’t doubt you are, but you still shouldn’t be here on your own. Here, let’s get you back to your father and brothers-”

“No!”

“Yelling at his mother, how rude!”

Niki shook her head in distaste as Jack nodded in agreement.

“She must have the will of thousands to deal with someone like Tommy.”

Kristin frowned at the statements being made behind her. It hurt her that the people her son admired and looked to spoke ill of him behind his back. What hurt her the most, however, was the lack of defense from her husband or sons. Instead, the defense came from someone else.

“Hey, leave the kid alone! Look at him, he’s just a child!”

“Quackity is right, Tommy’s nine here. Besides, if Kristin see’s something wrong with his tone, I’m sure she’d put him back in line.”

A satisfied hum came from Kristin as she smiled at Quackity and Ranboo, glad to see that some people had some sense in themselves.

Kristin frowned as she raised an eyebrow, tilting her head towards her youngest son. Tommy peered down at the chicken in his arms, ashamed. Sighing, he nodded as he looked back at her.

“I’m sorry, Mother. I just- I can’t go back.”

“Why not?”

“I hate being alone.”

The group watched as tears welled up in the child’s eye. They all felt a pinch of pain and hurt in their chests, frowning at how Tommy was feeling. Watching as he wiped his tears away with the chicken, they couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable.

“What do you mean by alone? I’m sure that if you just ask your brothers if you can join in sparring-”

“They left.”

“...What? What do you mean they left? What about your father? What did he say about this?”

“He left too. They all left me alone in the cottage. Something about being invited to a new server? They sent letters back home for me to read, but they stopped coming in two months ago. Dad and Techno started a nation, I think. The Antarctic Empire, or something. Wilbur started his own, but I think he’s allied with them? It got confusing after a while.”

“L’manburg wasn’t Wilbur’s first country?”

“Forget that, the anarchists started a country?!”

“Letters stopped two months ago? When did they leave you behind?”

“Um, I’m not sure? They left November twenty-second.”

“Wha- Tommy, it’s July fourth! They’ve been gone for almost seven months!

“Wow, really? It’s been that long? Huh, would you look at that! I’m a master survivor!”

“Ow!”

“I still don’t forgive you for that! How could you leave our son behind like that?! For seven months?!”

“Kristin-”

“Don’t, we’ll talk about this later.”

“And you’ve been alone all along? What about our sweet neighbors? Aren’t you best friends with that boy your age?”

“Tubbo went with his dad on a trip a few months back.”

“Schlatt took him on a trip? Huh, weird. And what about Lani?”

“What’s so surprising about that? I can be a loving and cool father, right Tubbo? Lani?”

The two siblings avoided the ram’s gaze, mumbling excuses so they did not need to reply.

“Adopted dad took her on a different trip after she got upset that Schlatt left her behind.”

“Well, count on Jordan to cheer his daughter up.”

“The Captain is cool like that, Mum.”

“You bet he is! Man, I need to go on a trip with him again. He’d love to meet Michael!”

“Knowing dad, he’s gonna freak after seeing that his only son is married and has a child.”

“I think you’re wrong, Lani, dad will be fiiiiiiiiiiinnnnne.”

“Whatever.”

“Well, where are you going, Tommy? Joining them on this new server?”

“I was, but I decided not to.”

“And why not?”

“I was invited to a different server! See?”

Kristin watched as Tommy reopened his satchel, greeting the chicks who napped inside. Carefully pulling out an envelope, he smiled as he pulled out the card. Presenting it to his mother with pride, Tommy giggled with glee as she read the name of the server.

“Dream SMP?”

“Yup! Started back in April, I think? I got the invite a month back, and I’ve been preparing to leave ever since! Isn’t that cool? Someone thinks I’m cool enough to join a server!”

Kristin studied the face of her son, watching as he happily rambled about his plans for the new server. He didn’t fool her, he never could. She knew that despite his excitement, he was lonely and scared. He didn’t want to be alone.

“You’re not going to make me go back to the cottage, are you?”

“You know what? I’ll follow you wherever you choose to go.”

“Really?!”

“Absolutely, my ray of sunshine.”

“Oh, thank you!”

Pure love and happiness filled everyone as Tommy held the chicken close to himself, ignoring the strange looks people gave him as he mumbled his thanks.

“He really loves you, doesn’t he?”

“As do I for him. If I could live every day outside of my realm, I’d be by my family’s side every day.”

“Well, what are you waiting for? Now, let’s see this Dream SMP, okay?”

“M’kay!”

-

“You guys left Tommy all by himself when he was nine? Kinda wack, ngl.”

“Did you just verbally abbreviate “not going to lie” in real life?”

“That’s not the point, Sapnap.”

“I know, but still.”

Wilbur refused to speak or look at anyone. He didn’t know why the train brought him and the others here, but he knew that being sat with his family made him uncomfortable. Technoblade just sat beside his twin, messing with his hands as he silently thought things over. Peering at his parents and brother, he couldn’t help but wonder if he had been unfair towards his youngest brother. He didn’t regret doing what he did to L’manburg, the country deserved it. He didn’t regret a thing, no matter what Tommy said or did. He didn’t even know why the voices and his own consciousness felt uneasy by this all, nothing bad hadn’t even occurred yet! It was definitely uncomfortable to feel what Tommy was feeling during these events, but that was the only thing that truly explained his uneasiness.

He watched as his mother whispered to his father, her stare firm and strong. The ex-citizens of L’manburg all conversed with one another, sharing their observations so far. They all shared the same question, he knew this, but only one was brave enough to ask it. Watching as Drista made her way from Lani to Kristin, Techno watched with amusement.

“Excuse me? Mrs. Minecraft? Where is Tommy?”

“Oh, simple! None of us wanted him to revisit all these moments that may be uncomfortable for him, so he’s somewhere safe.”

Before anyone else could ask anything else, they were suddenly overwhelmed with excitement and joy. Turning around they watched as Tommy spawned into a new server, his mother’s chicken in his arms. Petting her head as he looked around, Tommy addressed his small following of chicks and chickens.

“Boys! Welcome to the Dream SMP!”

[vaguely-concerned]

R-r-r-rewatch thoughts for The Mandalorian S2 Ep2

(or Chapter 10 as they seem resolved to call it)

- can I just express my joy for a moment that in one episode we get peli, the answer to my pleas for female representation in the ‘sketchy middle aged car mechanic’ niche, and a female alien designed with no consideration towards sexiness. (I mean I’m sure there’s someone. There is always someone somewhere on the Internet, is the bitter truth history has shown to us. but it’s not the intention behind the design haha)  

- they do take great pains to deliberately show you boba’s armour several times both in the recap and in the episode itself, so never despair he is very likely still on his way onto our screens once more

- this dude holding the baby hostage wanting specifically the jetpack in exchange is the one (1) break this whole episode gave din lol 

also the Patented Mando Finger Curl of Stress while he talked softly and calmly to not promp this asshole to make a sudden move... the most endearing character tic, I love my space cowboy dad so much 

- fun continuity detail: din is all out of whistling birds now, and you can see it here!

I wonder if he could still use the same mechanism with different ‘ammo’, it’s just not as effective? from the way the armorer spoke whistling birds seem quite rare and it would be an inefficient use of beskar if that’s the only thing it can be loaded with

 - I love how after the last episode, a 50 min epic with a bunch of original trilogy significance and impressive technical achievements and exciting character reveals, I was like ‘yeah okay I suppose that is quite interesting’, and this mess/comedy of inconveniences is the thing that fully makes my brain tip into the obsessive ‘BABY AND DAD SHOW!! BABY AND DAD SHOW!!!!!’ mind state lol

- ah the traditional ‘mando trudging slowly but steadily through the desert’ montage we all love to see (I hope this is going to be a Thing for the second episode of every season from now on) 

Also I assume his suit has some sort of temperature regulation built in and that’s how he didn’t, y’know. die under the blazing desert sun

-

CAT FIGHT CAT FIGHT man I love the jawa. also mando doesn’t even glance over at them, really emphasizing how he’s like. done with this entire day (and it’s all barely even getting started din! i’m sorry)

 yodito’s look in this scene tho... he’s like ‘we’ve Seen some shit lady’ (actually I think he’s staring at ‘dr mandible’ like O___o. it’s been a long day for a lil boy) 

you get to see dr mandible’s cards a few times, so I assume anyone who knows the rules of... sabacc? probably? could figure out beforehand that he was in a bad spot. (the star wars fanbase is one of those where I KNOW the rules exist somewhere, and I know people who know those rules exist too)  

- that sound the baby keeps making -- the ‘boo-a’, sometimes with a p-sound at the end -- if that’s the precursor to him saying any variation whatsoever of ‘dad’ or ‘papa’ or ‘baba’ or even ‘buir’ or anything, I will die. I will sink to the ground in a heap and never get up (the way he keeps seeking out gaze contact with the helmet and seems perfectly satisfied with it too... fasdhfaskdjhl my FEELINGS)

- it seems confirmed in this ep that the mandos who died on nevarro did so while holding off the enemy so the rest(probably especially the children) could get away; some of them appear to have escaped. which I guess is a small relief

- 

frog lady stepping out of the shadows and into our hearts

I like that her firm nod after Peli translates ‘her husband has seen them’ lets us know she understands... basic? is that the common tongue thing in star wars there’s just so many to remember across fandoms lol? perfectly well, even if she can’t speak it. 

- mando might be running low on ammo for the pulse rifle, if the fact that he hasn’t replaced the missing cartridge on his... bandolier belt thingy is any indication

ETA: actually ignore me this has been a thing since the literal first episode of the show my brain just had a hiccup lol

- so baby seems to use a little bit of the force to pull the eggs towards him -- I wonder how often he ‘taps into it’ or if it’s always ‘on’ in the background for him. if so I guess there’s no wonder he’s so hungry (but also... kid you can’t end this lady’s entire family line like that one cat who singlehandedly made extinct a whole species of bird! D:)

- din so rarely gets openly angry, he just gets passive aggressive and grumpy. and that’s probably not the healthiest way to deal with things but I love him

- frog lady reacts so strongly to when din sends the ping when nothing else woke her up, I wonder if she can hear more frequencies than a human

- 

hello darkness my old frieeennnddd

- 

proof nr 1508 that din does not starve this baby you guys, he even has his own little tray just the right size for him! as it happens the baby simply seems to prefer eating things that are... still alive in some capacity. which, uh. maybe they can invest in some form of non-sentient crickets or something for him to hunt down and.... oh dear

- 

Look how they massacred my boy

By the way I finally managed to put into words why the Razor Crest -- and particularly the way it keeps getting beaten to hell and back and patched up again --  is so symbolically important and meaningful to me in this show in this post over here! it’s always a great relief to me when I can finally understand what the hell I’ve been going on about all this time and this was one of those lol

-  honestly if it weren’t for frog lady and (more importantly) the baby I think there’s a slight chance din would’ve gone ‘well I had a good-ish run of it for a while there’ and just let the ice claim him haha   

- “Why don’t you come over here and give me a hand. Make yourself useful” This is the one time in the episode I think he crosses the line into just being a dick for a moment (but noticeably the baby isn’t just a little hurt at this reaction, he’s clearly surprised and confused, which means this really does not happen often. after the time mando’s been having recently I guess a moment’s snappishness is understandable haha. he does follow up right after with being much more responsive and attentive when the baby toddles away from him, so it feels like it’s going to be okay)

also the ‘boo-ap’ sound is there again when he’s trying to get din’s attention. just sayin’ 

when din comes over to see the footprints baby makes a declarative little meep like ‘see??? I did tell you!’ haha

- it is very funny that mando is using all his technology meant to track down dangerous bounties in the grungy depths of the criminal underworld... to find a naked lady just chillin’ in a hot spring 

- 

cue the ‘father is evil?’ memes fsadfda. actually the funniest thing about this moment (apart from the fabulous finger acting) is that din actually snatches a few eggs out of the baby’s reach more subtly right before, and that baby only whines for ALL OF ONE SECOND before he goes to sniff around for other food possibilities fkadfhjkds. from my experience with human children he’s a lot less prone to tantrums. yodito doesn’t get mad, he gets even 

- baby running towards din through the hatching spiderlings like ‘DAD I FUCKED UUUUUUP’, din’s little strangled ‘ngh’ sound as he picks the baby up and watches all the creepy crawlies come out... *chef kiss* impeccable 

(that little ‘ngh’ and the soft shocked ‘ah ah AH!’s from when he goes flying at the beginning of the episode... pedro pascal and his voice work for this character gives me so much life. in some ways din has this sort of dignity and grace and in other ways he uh extremely doesn’t. he gets to be cool but also vulnerable in ways a lot of male main characters don’t and it’s probably why I love him so much) 

btw here is that moment when din moves to hold the baby tightly against him with both hands as the big spider appears, because it gets me right in the heart... it such an instinctive thing of holding on to the dearest thing you’ve got before something bad is about to happen

fdsafhsdakjlfhsdkjlhfsdajhf oh my god the baby is clutching din’s finger with his little hand during the chase!!!! 😭😭😭

this FUCKING SHOW has just WEAPONIZED putting in small details everywhere to convey the love and tenderness and attachment felt by a little muppet doll even where only weirdos like me will frame by frame their way through the video to see it I am so MAD

- frog lady going ‘fuck this’ and bounding along is  e v e r y t h i n g 

- din is an amazing shot, though, he doesn’t seem to miss a single one in this whole scene (then again there’s something to shoot at basically everywhere one can take aim so lol)

-

baby hiding behind/half hugging din’s boot as he tries to get the doors closed hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh I can’t breathhhhheeeee 

honestly every single one of the baby’s proximity seeking behaviours in this ep has me on my knees 

- it’s very unfair to play the heroic happy mando music like everything is going to be fine and then have a huge fuck-off spider drop down from the ceiling and break it off mid-tune, the mandalorian, you have trained me in certain ways and now do you betray me??? how can I trust again

- the camera work in the scene with the new republic guys gives such a good sense of the discomfort of being judged from on high by someone or something you can’t really see -- the glare of the lights blocking out everything in the shots from din’s pov makes it feel like a tense interrogation (the new republic dude who is actually dave filoni has such a look of fondness as he watches din tho it’s kind of sweet)

- ...oh no I think baby was actually considering munching on that dismembered spider leg YODITO NO JUST EAT YOUR KRAYT DRAGON BABY

- hngh this is a weird filler episode and it has my entire heart. I suspect we might get some episodes of a more stationary baby between active ones like this -- you can tell a little bit in this episode that especially having him running around fast is quite difficult to have look natural, they likely save that effort up for when it best serves the narrative  

[captainseaweedbrains]

Promises

Katniss made a promise she couldn’t keep.

1930s Everlark in an orphanage. Angst

Trigger: Abuse

Ao3: x

The sun is beating down on my sunburned face when I spot the familiar black Cadillac sitting in the driveway. I stand there for a moment, my basket of gardening tools clutched in my hands, as I stare at the car. I know this car. It’s the same one Prim and I rode in coming to this horrid place.

 “Mr. Heavensbee?” I question aloud, walking toward the driveway in a daze. What is he doing here? Is it for business?

“Katniss!” Sister Effie shrills, breaking my trance. My head snaps in the nun’s direction and she points to the rose garden where I’m supposed to be helping with pruning. I sigh, looking back at the car once more, before trudging back to the garden where the rest of my group works diligently. We were promised a special treat if Father Snow approves of our work and it wasn’t often we were rewarded, so we all took our tasks more seriously today.

My knees groan in protest as I sink to the ground to inspect the lower branches for anything dead. Days like today were my least favorite to work in, where the sun is merciless and the heat doesn’t let up for a second. Gardening the extensive gardens at St. Thomas’ makes me feel forty times older than my thirteen-year-old self ought to feel.

I’m cutting away dead branches when a hand caresses my back. I jump, squeaking at the touch, and turn to see a grinning Peeta standing next to me with the basket of branches we’ve been collecting for burning. My eyes squint as I look up at him and smile back.

 “Care to help the needy?” he jokes in a creaky ol’ beggar’s voice, shaking the basket with a hunched back. “You, miss,” he acknowledges me, “please help the needy, or rot in Hell for all your sins!”

I cover my mouth to hide my laughter, glancing over to see if Sister Effie had heard, but she sits, unfazed, under an umbrella she’d set up earlier this morning to supervise us, fanning herself, and I hand him my branches.

“That’s quite the punishment,” I play along. “Going to Hell for not giving you my branches.”

“Oh, God watches all, wretched child,” he continues in the voice, and we both duck behind the rose bushes to cover up our laughter before someone sees.

“You’re so lucky you get to go inside,” I whisper once we’ve calmed down. “I’m going to have a burnt head for weeks.”

“Hardly,” Peeta scoffs, popping his head up and deciding to take a break while I continue pruning. “Coin is there each time I go into the shed, inspecting everything I dump into the pile. It’s annoying.”

I nod, imagining the coolly composed woman standing watch as Peeta and the other select boys brought in their baskets of branches and dead leaves, closely inspecting each branch with the same critical cruelty she holds when inspecting our daily chores. “She’s like God, only worse!”

“Don’t ever compare that woman to God, Katniss. It’s insulting.”

I continue pruning the dead roses, their snow white petals wilting as I work while Peeta fans himself with his hand, complaining how it’s not fair that the boys are forced to wear pants in the humid summers while the girls got to wear dresses. I point out how I’m always cold in the winter time, but that doesn’t stop him from complaining over how unfair it is. We get into a tiny spat before Sister Effie starts to voice how our piles are gathering up. “Peeta? Has anyone seen Peeta?”

“Duty calls. I’ll see you in the kitchens,” he hisses before grabbing his basket and running to the next row over.    

Carefully, so he won’t see me, I pop my head out and watch him run over to Annie Cresta’s pile. Peeta could complain all he wanted about the boys’ uniform, but I, well I kind of liked them. I liked how snug his shirt was against his broadening shoulders and the way the short sleeves seemed to bring out the small muscles he was gaining from working in the kitchens for so many years. His animated smile that I see in every dream he stars in is on his face, laughing at a joke Annie must have told him, and the small butterflies I’ve been feeling for weeks now flutter again. I know it’s a sin to be looking at him when I’m supposed to be working on my chores, but God won’t mind my looking for another second, right?

A blood curdling scream howls from the house, breaking my focus, and we all pop our heads up in its direction, wondering who Coin’s latest victim is this time. Screaming only worsens your punishment, so I have to give the victim credit for taking a chance, especially if the car does belong to Mr. Heavensbee, and that’s when it hits me.

The last time I heard that scream I was seven years old at the Hawthornes’, trying to help my mother drag a screaming Prim to the car, screaming how she didn’t want to leave Rory, the second-oldest Hawthorne son who was the same age as her. Prim didn’t have many friends at home since we lived with my dad’s parents in an older neighborhood than the Hawthornes, and Rory and Prim had clicked instantaneously. She begged and begged for Mama to leave her there, screaming when she was told no, and I remember pinching my ears closed, trying to block out the piercing sound. Wishing she would stop.

Before registering why she could be screaming, I bolt from the rose garden, ignoring Sister Effie's threats, and run through the back door, trying to target where the screaming is coming from.

What did Prim do to get Coin’s attention? Didn’t I always tell her to blend in? That standing out was a bad thing here?

The screaming sounds like it’s coming from the foyer, an area we are forbidden from entering unless scrubbing the floors and dusting furniture. Prim must have been curious about something and gone in there. I run toward the sound, sweat burning my eyes, and there at the bottom of the stairs, holding onto the door frame for dear life, is my sister. Mr. Heavensbee is pulling at her to follow him, insisting they’re going to be late for their train. Prim continues to scream, telling him she doesn’t want to leave.

“I want to stay! Please let me stay!”

“Now, now,” Mr. Heavensbee consoles impatiently, “Child, we’re going to be late, and your new family is waiting. Remember how much you liked them?”

Her screaming continues and I have to shout over it, hoping she hears me.

“Prim?” my voice cracks. “Prim!” I race down the stairs, almost tripping on my own feet. Did he say she’s leaving? A new family? But what about me; didn’t he promise we’d stay together? 

She looks up, her eyes puffy with tears, and yanks free of Mr. Heavensbee, running into my open arms. I run my hand down her sweaty hair, shh-ing and telling her everything is going to be alright.

“I don’t want to leave,” she cries into my dress, clinging onto me so tightly I fear she may break a rib.

“Who says anything about leaving?” Looking up at the large man, I ask what’s the meaning of this.

He opens his mouth, stuttering out a response, when a cold voice sharply replies: “That is not how a child speaks to an adult.”

My arms stiffen around Prim’s body as I look over my shoulder at Madame Coin standing on the bottom step, her bony hand clutching a small bag I recognize as Prim’s belongings.

No... No! She can’t!

“You’re sending Prim away?” I pray this isn’t true, that God is playing a cruel prank on me.

“Primrose has the opportunity for a better life,” Coin sniffs.

“She’s my sister!” I turn to Mr. Heavensbee. “You promised we’d stay together! You promised!” Tears of betrayal start to fall as I cling to my little sister. “You told me you’d make sure we’d stay together!”

He nervously traced the bushy mustache and glanced at his watch again. “Things change,” he tells me. “You can never tell in this profession.”

“But you promised!”

A sharp tug of my braids breaks my grip on Prim; Coin’s arm holding me in her clutches as Heavensbee captures Prim. I fight with all my might, knowing the consequences of acting out like this will be severe, but he promised! I promised! We would stay together after Mama and Papa passed.

“It’s been a pleasure having you under God’s house,” Madame Coin states with false sincerity. “May you find grace under your new roof, Primrose Williamson.”

I can barely see I’m crying so hard as the realization that my sister is leaving forever hits me. I’ll probably never see her again. “Prim! Prim!” I break out of the witch’s grasp and run outside to the car, begging Mr. Heavensbee to take me, too. “I’ll cook, clean,” I beg. “I’ll do anything to stay with Prim, Mr. Heavensbee. Just—please, let me go with you.”

He peels my hands off his suit, pushing me into the grass, and gets into his car. I watch in a teary blur as my sweet little sister drives farther and farther away until finally, the car is completely out of sight. My heart cracks to pieces. My body numb. The world spins and breaks all at once.

My eyes break away from the driveway and target the group of children peeping out by the side of the house, even a few curious nuns joining them. I try to compose myself, to brace myself for the inevitable punishment that is waiting for me inside, but all I can do is gasp for air, curling my arms around my legs. My little Prim is gone. She’s going to a new family. Without me. I truly am alone now.

“What do you think you children are doing?” Madame Coin snaps at the audience, shooing them with her cane. “Be gone and finish your chores, or God will punish you for meddling in others' business!”

I see Peeta in the crowd, his recent growth spurt making him a few inches taller than the other children, and my stomach sinks so low I’m sure the Devil can see it. This is my punishment for looking at a boy. Madame Coin, and even Father Snow, always insisted that we do not look. It is a sin to look when we were put on this earth to serve. I looked and lost my sister. I’m sure He’s laughing from above at my foolishness.

My eyes avert to my too small shoes, hoping everyone would just leave me be so that I can be punished and sent back to work.

“That was quite a scene you exhibited, child.” I know I should look up—children must look up to their superiors—but the thought of that woman’s cruel smirk at the sight of my tears made my blood boil.

“I apologize, Madame,” I hiccup, running my hand across my snotty nose. “She’s my sister.”

“Was,” Coin corrects and I do look up now, rapidly blinking as my eyes adjust to the bright sun hitting her light blonde hair. “She’s no relation to you now and I suggest you remember that. You lost all relations the moment your parents dropped dead.”

She was trying to get to me, wanting me to say something that would cause a bigger punishment than I could ever imagine, and I should keep my mouth shut and falsely accept her statement, but a little voice inside my head reminds me that lying is worse than a beating. 

“Pardon me, Madame Coin, but aren’t we all God’s children? Doesn’t that mean we’re all related?” I regret the words the moment they leave my mouth. A lie would have been better.

“You insolent little girl!” she growls, reeling back her cane. I instinctually cover my face, praying to God for how sorry I am and for Him to please make the beating bearable. I don’t want to limp like Peeta, or flinch at every sound like Clove Anderson.

Please, I beg. Make it fast.

The wooden cane never strikes and I peek out from under my arm in surprise and see Coin standing there, a calculated look written on her face.

“Stand,” she commands and I oblige, too curious and confused at what was happening. “I should give you thirty lashes for that scene alone,” and the ball in my throat gets stuck at that. I’ve never received thirty lashes before. “But I’m going to be merciful today. Follow me.”

We walk past the gardens, my chin high in the air as heads cautiously pop up to watch us pass. I don’t know where we’re going, but soon we are close to the woods, about a mile I’d guess from the house. Questions fill my head as I wonder if she’s actually going to kill me out here in the wild, where no one can hear me scream. It’s numbing knowing I wouldn’t put up much of a fight if she did decide to kill me. There’s no point trying, now.

Coin stops in front of a small hut that’s no bigger than our gardening shed and pulls out a ring of keys. She unlocks the door and steps to the side, motioning for me to step in. I peer inside, cringing at the smell, and I know this is my punishment for acting out in front of Mr. Heavensbee and for talking back when I wasn’t supposed to. She’s going to lock me in here.

“Well get in!” And she grabs my collar, shoving me into the dank, dark room. From the smell alone I can tell no one’s been in here for years and I feel around for anything, the tiny hole near the floor supplying no light.  The room is empty. “You will spend 40 hours in here. One hour for every lashing you would have received had I not been in such a good mood. You will repent to the only person out here: God. And when I return, I expect you to recite an explanation on your sins and what you have learned from your time out here. Am I understood?”

“Yes, Madame Coin.”

She closes and locks the door and I am shrouded in darkness. Alone, I can finally cry without worrying about eyes watching, and I cry until God takes mercy on me and I fall asleep.

I don’t know how long I’ve been asleep, or how late it is, but a tiny knock on the door alerts me awake.“Who is it?” I demand. “Who’s there?”

“It’s me,” Peeta hisses, knocking again.

I stand up and feel my way to the door. “Peeta? What are you doing here? Did you sneak out?” I accuse, wondering why he always put himself into harm’s way for me.

“What? No! No, Katniss.” I hear him sigh and I lean my head against the wooden door, imagining the way his chest rises, his hands in his hair because he’s agitated. “I brought you some bread and water.” A tray slides through the tiny hole by the ground and I stumble to it, my stomach growling at the knowledge of food. It’s hard to keep myself at bay while eating the single slice of bread, but I manage and take a tiny sip of water, savoring the refreshment I’ve been denied all day.

“Does she know you’re out here?” I ask at last, hoping he won’t get into trouble because of me again.

“She told Annie to bring it, but she’s afraid of the dark and I offered to take the tray instead.”

“Does Coin know you’re out here, Peeta?” I clarify.

He doesn’t say anything for the longest time and I know his answer before he even says it. “She knows you’re being fed, but no, she doesn’t know that I’m the one who’s bringing it to you.”

I sigh and roll onto my back, looking up at darkness. “God’s punishing me.”

“What? No! You can’t believe that, Katniss. Madame Coin is insane. Possessed, I’m sure.”

“I sinned, Peeta, and He took my sister away,” I simply tell him, my voice emotionless. I must have cried longer than I thought. “Prim’s gone because of me.”

“Don’t tell me you’re starting to believe in all that.” His hand finds my arm through the hole and I scoot up so that our hands are holding onto each other. I wonder if this is another sin we’re creating, but holding hands doesn’t seem terrible. I’m sure Jesus held his best friend’s hand and Peeta is the only person I can depend on in this place now.

“I don’t know what to believe.” And that’s all I say until he tells me he has to get back before they lock the doors, squeezing my hand in parting.

“I’ll come back tomorrow,” he promises, but I’m beginning to lose hope in promises.

[mostlycompetentwriter]

Levanter- Mini Series #1

F/M Pairing: Y/N x Lee Minho

Warnings: Language and some very sad angst at the beginning

Genre: Fantasy AU; Alice in Wonderland AU

Word Count: 2K

Summary: When Y/N loses her mother, it was like dangling from the edge of a cliff, wondering if you should just let go....But she soon comes to realize that there might be an opportunity to escape the pain...

A/N: Uh...happy birthday to Stay, I guess?

"One should never underestimate the power of books,” (Paul Auster)

It was raining again, but that had rapidly become commonplace in my small town. Still, it wasn’t enough to deter my current plans, skating around the crowded shops lining the streets and dodging the uncomfortable looks that were being thrown my way as I tried to protect the innocent little rose that I held tightly against my chest. Actually, when I really think about it, I guess that might sound like a strange introduction, but nothing in my life has ever worked out the way that I envisioned.

But life is unfair to most people, especially for the ones who really don’t deserve it. You see, I was often filled with unadulterated rage whenever I thought about the world’s injustices too much, but that kind of emotion seemed misplaced in the empty cemetery. So, I cleared my thoughts, surveying the quiet gravestones and deciding that it wasn’t surprising to see nobody else around considering the rain drenching my coat and jeans. But I had made her a promise that I intended to keep for the sake of my delicate heart and the memories that I recalled every night before I eventually succumbed to my dark slumber. 

At this point, the landscape was memorized inside my head, and I found her headstone among the others, isolated somewhere near the back of the lot. And I carefully lowered my head in greeting, kneeling down to read over the letters forming the syllables of her name. “Hello,” I whispered quietly. “I came to give you this.” I hesitated as I studied the rose, glancing up at the dark-gray sky because the idea of seeing blue again was hardly feasible. “I don’t want the rain to ruin it,” I said, placing the flower next to the others. “I hope you’re doing okay, wherever you are.”

Silence greeted my words, and I waited for something to happen before I decided that it was best to return home.

It was late when I finally walked onto my porch, wrenching open the front door with my wet clothes and damp hair. Thankfully, my grandmother wasn’t around to witness my condition because she would lecture me about how I might catch a cold. I shook my head at the thought, wandering upstairs to change into something more comfortable.

Afterwards, I felt more like myself, verging on the precipice of too optimistic, and I joined my grandmother in the kitchen as she cleaned. “There you are,” she said, smiling at me before pointing to the counter. “I found some old books today.”

“Oh?” I questioned, glancing at them briefly. “Are they from the library?”

“They used to be your mother’s,” my grandmother said and I immediately froze. “I guess they belong to you now,” she continued, smiling at me as she held out the books. I shook myself from my stupor as I took them wordlessly, looking at her for a moment longer before retreating into my bedroom for some necessary privacy.

Immediately, I brought the books to my bedside, placing them on my nightstand while I made myself comfortable on top of the faded sheets. Eventually, I reached for the one on top. “Levanter,” I read the cover, sneezing when the coat of dust on the cover tickled my delicate nose.

They must’ve been in the attic for storage, especially since they looked like children’s books. But if they belonged to my mother, I was inherently curious. So, I opened the book that I held on my lap as I perused the first page, reading over the words in a charming cursive font. “Once upon a time,” I said, sighing at the tired cliche. “There was a world where anything could happen...”

But the words became an all-encompassing desire after that, and I greedily read the words as if they were writing themselves across the pages. I lost track of time, failing to notice my alarm clock creeping closer to midnight. I let out a yawn as I started a new story, finding myself enchanted with the interesting world painting a clear picture inside my head. 

However, exhaustion was a disrupting force, and I eventually fell asleep with the book open on my lap, seeing the words dance behind my closed eyelids...

When I opened my eyes again, everything felt very strange. Even more so when I realized that I was outside somewhere, and the sun was hot as its rays penetrated the sparse covering of the clouds. “Oh,” I said, struggling to sit up. “Am I dreaming?”

It explained a lot about my surroundings, including the unusual glow blossoming around the landscape. Like a filter had been placed in front of my eyes, distorting everything around me. It made sense, and I didn’t linger on things too much as I stood tall and swiped my hands along my grass-stained jeans.

There was a path up ahead in the distance, shimmering with an intense golden color, and I started towards it without much consideration. It was inherently interesting, and I desperately sought a closer look. Yet, I grew increasingly frustrated when it felt like, no matter how many steps I took, the amount of space between me and the path remained the same. 

I huffed as I stood in place, propping my hands on top of my hips as I glared at the unattainable path. Was my mind playing tricks on me? Was I supposed to sit here and do nothing until my brain decided to wake me up again? 

“It does that to most people.”

My heart jumped into my throat at the sudden interjection, and I turned around so fast that I almost fell backwards. The unfamiliar voice belonged to a younger man, eyes narrowed in suspicion, and his orange-colored hair heightened the fierce sting of brown in his gaze. “Oh,” I managed, fanning my hand across my chest. “I didn’t see you.”

The man snorted. “You won’t ever make it there. It’s designed to trick people into pursuing something that they can never have.”

“Really?” I asked, gazing at him with wonder. “Have I met you before?”

Surely, my brain wouldn’t conjure someone into my dream unless I had encountered them before? It made sense because our dreams were reflections of our everyday lives. But I couldn’t place this strange man, and I was certain that I would remember him.

“I don’t think so,” he said, crossing his arms. “It looks like you don’t belong here.”

The observation made me laugh. “In my own dream?”

He paused for a moment, looking at me with wide eyes, before a smirk spread across his features. “It makes sense now,” he said, turning around as he started walking in the opposite direction. “You coming?”

I blinked twice before following him without another word.

His name was Minho, and he seemed to know more about me than I would’ve anticipated from a figment of my imagination. “I was reading a book,” I explained, clutching the tea cup that he had given me. “I think this place is my mind’s construction of the book’s setting.”

“Really?” Minho asked, and he seemed amused by my observation.

“It makes sense,” I said, somewhat offended that he seemed to be treating my words like a joke.

“She said the same thing,” Minho said, and there was a trace of sadness disrupting his previous elation.

“She?” I questioned, looking at him with wide, quizzical eyes. “What do you mean?”

Minho shook his head. “Forget it. This wasn’t supposed to happen again.”

“Again?”

Minho sighed, evidently growing frustrated with my questions. “You’ll wake up soon,” he said with a growl. “Do us all a favor and put that book away. You can’t read it ever again, understood?”

I was wary of the desperation in his tone, mixed with an underlying anger that I couldn’t identify. What had I done that was so bad? “I’m sorry,” I said, feeling very confused by my dream.

“Forget it,” Minho said, placing his tea cup onto the table next to him. “You’ll be gone soon enough.”

I didn’t like the way he had so quickly dismissed me, and I was searching for the right words to retaliate, when there was a sudden knock on the door to his cabin. “Shit!” Minho cursed, looking at me with a slight hint of desperation. “You need to get out of here!”

“What?” I asked, but Minho was already grabbing my arm, pulling me up and leading me into one of the other rooms. 

“Stay here,” Minho said, and his tone left little room for argument.

But that still didn’t stop my curiosity, and I was perturbed by his insistence on controlling what I did in my own dream. So, I cracked open the door, and it was just enough to see Minho welcoming another person into his living room. Even from a distance, I could tell that he was devastatingly handsome, eyes wide with brown orbs of caramel and a gummy smile that could light up an entire room. I was instantly enraptured, and it took everything I had to resist the urge to confront this unknown stranger...

“You’ve had company,” the newcomer said, pointing to the discarded tea cups.

“Chan came by earlier,” Minho lied, and I noticed that there was a very peculiar jerkiness to his movements, and he seemed nervous about something.

“Oh,” the stranger said. “I actually came by to grab something that I left from last time.”

“Really?” Minho asked, fidgeting with the tea cups as he walked into the kitchen.

“I’m sure it’s in the bedroom...” he said, and I instantly took a step back when I realized that he was walking in my direction.

“No! Wait, Jisung, don’t...!!”

However, it was too late for Minho’s warning and his attempt at interference, and I found myself face to face with this stranger who, quite suddenly, didn’t appear that unfamiliar anymore. In fact, I’m sure the recognition in his eyes reflected my own, and I watched as a single tear fell down the side of his cheek. “Y/N?” he questioned, and I opened my mouth to respond, but there was a sudden pressure against my chest. Like something was pulling me, and I had barely enough time to process the way Jisung seemed to lurch for me before I was jolting awake in my own bed, sweat perspiring against my forehead.

I took a deep breath, watching those vivid images race through my mind, before I glanced at the abandoned book lying on my nightstand. I reached out for it, fingers gliding across the lettering marking the title...But the I froze, eyes catching on an image that I hadn’t noticed before. Maybe it was because I didn’t expect to see a picture of me as child, smiling from between two boys who glared at one another from over the top of my head.

[fullmetalscullyy]

a conspiracy theory - chapter 16

co-written by @snowdog49 and @jeanhaavoc

summary: Detective Roy takes on a challenging task… To find Olivier Armstrong’s sword. However, he has a beautiful woman to distract him along the way. Will he, Jean, and Ed be able to find the sword in time, or will they succumb to the conspiracy?

warning: graphic depictions of violence

tags: conspiracy, pining, unresolved sexual tension, private detective au, royai, havolina, mystery, violence, modern au, coffee shops

rated: m | words: 3359

read on ao3

Roy woke to the sound of pots and pans being shuffled. The smell of coffee was strong, and he heard a toaster go off. He wasn’t home. None of that was vaguely familiar to any sounds at home, let alone in the morning. He opened his eyes, feeling one leg bent at ninety degrees with a foot on the ground, while the other remained on the couch. He nodded to himself, letting his arms rise in a stretch and a yawn. He was at Riza’s. Turning he noticed she was already cooking breakfast, still in the sweats she was in when he went to sleep. Her hair was down and wet from a shower. It shined just perfectly in the fluorescent light of the kitchen. He didn’t move, he just took in the sight of her scrambling something in the pan and then turning to the toast. It had to be wondered if she was like this every morning, rising with the sun, which she kindly had pulled the curtains shut for him, and smiled like it too. She looked happy, even content in her task. 

“What time do you work,” he asked with a groggy voice. 

“In two hours,” she answered without looking up. 

“How long have you been up?” 

She slid the eggs onto a plate and looked up at him. “Hayate and I already went for a walk, and I took a shower.” She leaned on the counter, watching him as he sat up with a groan. “So about an hour.” 

“You could've woke me,” he grumbled. 

“You need your sleep.” 

Roy looked on his wrist at his watch. He had to meet Hughes at 8 am. He had an hour to get there. “I don’t have too much time to dilly dally,” he admitted, reaching for his shoulder holster. “But you have to let me repay you somehow.” 

She walked around the kitchen and handed him a plate. “Then eat breakfast.” 

“You’re being too nice to me,” he called to her as she walked away. Although eggs, some fruit, and toast looked way too good to pass up. When was the last time he had a home-cooked breakfast? He needed to make a point of making more food for himself. After the first bite, he had to sit back down. They were the best eggs he’d ever eaten, he swore it on his mother’s grave. The toast was perfect, and he didn’t even think that was possible. When she said she liked to cook, there was no lie in it. She was amazing at it. He took every bite slowly, chewing it, relishing in every tastebud’s celebration of flavor. And he would have asked for seconds too. 

“This is… good,” he commented. He had to hide his groan as flavor burst over his tongue.

“Did you ever doubt my skills?” she asked dryly. “I told you I was into cooking.” 

“Um, I never will again?” he smiled sweetly looking up at her.

Riza laughed and sat down next to him on the couch. She curled her legs underneath her body, leaning on the arm of the chair. She picked at her food innocently, but being this close to her, in her apartment after sleeping over, Roy was sure that she was just as uncomfortable about the environment as he was. It wasn’t like they had anything to be embarrassed about. Still, the awkwardness didn’t dissipate as quickly he would've liked. 

Roy coughed. “I just wanted to apologize for showing up so late last night.”

She glanced over at him expectantly. Her eyebrows twitched downwards in slight confusion.

“I know it’s not the most ideal situation to land yourself in, having me showing up half asleep at your door,” he laughed nervously. He resisted the urge to scratch the back of his neck.

“Roy, you’re fine. I did say it was okay for you to come over, didn’t I,” she reminded him. “If I didn’t want you to come, I would have said no.” She glanced down at her plate with a small smile. “I enjoy your company, so it’s no issue at all.”

Roy coughed nervously, covering his mouth with his fist. “I uh… Can I use your restroom? Then I better get going.” 

Riza nodded and pointed down the hall. "It’s the first door on your right,” she instructed. 

He put his plate down and jumped up. He was so in love with her. He was. He was infatuated with her. And here he was, waking up with her serving him breakfast. He could hardly stand himself. Standing in the restroom he bit his fist with his hand. Why did he have to go? Why couldn’t he just stay and they could make sweet looks at each other? Life was unfair to him once again. Work called, and it wasn’t just work, it was 'Roy Saving the World' day. He washed his hands and stared at himself in the mirror. He had no idea what Riza saw in him, but she made him feel more alive than he had in years. 

He emerged from the bathroom and cleared his throat. “I’m going to go now,” he announced softly, reaching for his holster. “I’ve got to meet Maes at the senate’s house and we’re going to do a sweep of the place.” 

Riza nodded, putting her plate down. 

God, how he wanted to stay. He’d do anything to stay. He reached over and grabbed his gun, checking it to ensure that it was still loaded, and put it in its beloved spot. Then he grabbed his jacket and put it on. “I can’t thank you enough. I will make this up to you.” He looked at the door then back into her brown eyes. “You… You’re amazing. I think you’re really wonderful, and every time I get a chance to tell you, something happens. I’m going to show you one day.” He scratched his cheek nervously. 

Riza walked up to him, pulling on his jacket as if she was fixing it. “How about you just make it back alive?" Her hand patted his chest above his heart. 

Roy couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m sure I’m going to be okay.” He wasn’t thinking about anything else but the way her hand felt on his sternum, and the way she looked up at him. Their bodies pressed against each other - 

She said again softer. “Just come back and we can go to an uninterrupted dinner.” 

“God,” he laughed. “Wouldn’t that be a thing!” 

Riza smiled and Roy smiled back. It wasn’t anything he could help, she brought it out of him so easily. The world with her was full of smiles. With her by his side, he was the happiest he’d been in a long time.

As he turned to take a step towards the door, her hands grasped his jacket tighter and pulled at him. Roy turned his head to ask her what was wrong when her lips met his. At first, Roy stood there with his eyes wide and in shock, but when he felt her pull him closer, and his bottom lip slip along hers, he pressed back. His eyes closed and his arms wrapped protectively around her, sealing them together. There was no guess to how long the kiss actually was. God knew, but Roy did not. 

When Riza did pull back, Roy was frozen with his head forward and his body aching for more. He just stared at her, his dark eyes begging for her to come back. She smelled like the lavender of her shampoo, and her lips tasted like the blueberries that were for breakfast. She leaned up once more to kiss him shortly, a peck of love, and whispered, “just come back.” 

Roy remained frozen, blinking at her. His brain was stuck in place, like a record. He couldn’t make himself function. His lips and hands were still wanting. His head swayed forwards slightly, eager for more, and his hands clutched at her waist tightly. He never wanted to let her go.

“I promise,” he managed to force out. His voice was hoarse. Every emotion inside his chest was threatening to burst forth. Love washed over him as he looked into her caramel eyes, feeling relief follow soon afterward. He lifted a hand to cup her cheek, his thumb stroked over her cheekbone. Riza shivered but never broke eye contact with him. The pressure from her fingers increased against his sides. “I’ll come back to you, Riza.”

Her head dipped and she wrapped her arms around him tightly in a hug. Her head found his shoulder as Roy moved his hands to wrap around her back. Life was, once more, unfair as it tried to tear him away from this moment; but it did give him something to look forward to once it was all over. He would hold onto this moment with Riza, focus on it and hold it dear to his heart, forever. Whatever happened today, he would focus on getting back to her.

“Be safe,” she whispered into his shoulder.

“I thought you said I had nothing to worry about?” he chuckled lightly.

She pulled back, and Roy saw concern in her eyes. “Still, the sentiment remains the same.”

“Okay, I will. Just for you,” he quipped, trying to lighten the mood a little.

Before he could pull away, Riza grasped the lapels of his jacket, pulling him back to face her. “For both of us,” she replied firmly.

Roy turned before his body forced him to stay and grabbed the door handle. He opened it and took a step out, stopping for a moment, before continuing. It was now or never. Just a few hours until Edward could get the documents to the feds, just until help could arrive. He could do it. 

*          *          *

The lawn at the government buildings was still wet with dew as he marched through it. Maes stood at the top of a few stairs, watching him as he looked over the area. The man was just as diligent as Roy, just as observant. The big difference was who he was working for and the pension after 30 years. Roy was going to miss that pension but if he kept finding things for the Armstrong family, he might not need one. 

“All is quiet on the western front,” Maes said as Roy arrived next to him. “You don’t look like such shit. You must have finally gotten some sleep.” 

Roy nodded, putting his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, I did.” He tried his best not to blush at the thought of waking up to Riza making breakfast.

Maes nodded and turned to lead the two of them up the stairs. "The building just opened. We can run through it and check for explosives. Marcoh should be here any minute. I heard they are starting just after 9.” 

“That gives us just over an hour!” 

“Then step it up, Mustang!” Maes grinned. “Don't tell me you’re getting old!” 

Roy frowned. He grumbled something before opening the doors to the senate. “Old my ass,” he mumbled. 

Row after row they walked. Roy ran his fingers under the desks while Maes checked under the chairs. Meticulously they searched every spot around Marcoh’s area. There was nothing. There wasn’t even dust. It made Roy even more nervous. A bomb would have been nice. Then the whole day would be called off… but the chaos would give Kimblee a chance… Roy grumbled. Nothing was going to make today okay. 

“What are you moaning about?” Maes laughed quietly from across the room.

“I’m not moaning,” Roy defended.

“You’re grumbling like an old man.”

Roy grit his teeth. First Ed with the grey hair comment, then Maes getting on about his age. 

“I’m not grumbling,” Roy snapped back.

“If you say so,” Maes replied, his voice taking on a sing-song lilt.

“I just…” Roy straightened, huffing in frustration. “I can’t seem to find anything.”

“That’s a good thing,” Maes countered. “You know that, right?”

“Yeah, of course it is, but…” He sighed, checking over the last desk. “A bomb would've been easy.”

“Do you really want to find a bomb in here?” Maes asked.

“It would've made calling everything off easier. It would've made the protection detail much easier too.”

“Always looking for the easy way out,” Maes joked with a smirk.

Roy scowled at him.

“Relax, it'll be fine. This isn’t our first rodeo, and won’t be the last,” Maes replied, waving his hand carelessly in the air. “There’s not going to be a shootout in a public building.”

“Jean was shot in an open area,” Roy countered. “We don’t know what the thought process is here.”

“No, but if these people really want to remain discreet, they won’t start something like that,” Maes reiterated. He’d finished checking the chair and was now lounging against a desk, his hip popped to lean against it.

The door opened across the room and Roy, being on edge, turned sharply. Senator Marcoh stepped through, looking rather surprised at the two men’s presence. He froze in place, keeping a tight grip on files underneath his arm.

“Gentleman,” he greeted with uncertainty. His grip on the door increased.

“Senator Marcoh,” Maes greeted immediately. “I apologize for the sudden appearance,” he stated. Maes reached into his pocket for his badge and Roy straightened, approaching him as well. “My name is Detective Maes Hughes with the Federal Police Department. This is my colleague, Detective Roy Mustang.”

Both men flashed their badges at a rather bewildered Marcoh. “Oh, hello. Can… Can I help you at all?”

“We’re here to assist you today,” Roy intervened.

“Assist me how?” Marcoh questioned.

“Do you have an office where we could possibly discuss things?”

Marcoh shook his head. “I’m afraid not. Not here.”

“This room will be alright then for now, won’t it Detective?” Maes questioned Roy directly.

“Of course.”

Marcoh walked forwards, placing his paperwork on the desk with his name plate attached to it. He shifted through them all, getting them into some kind of order as quickly as he could. “I apologize, this will only take a second. I’m happy to assist you, gentlemen, but I hope you can understand that I have a long day of meetings ahead of me and I need to be organized.”

“Of course, Sir,” Roy reassured him. “Take all the time you need.” He watched the doors, readying for the next person to come through. It was a tight area though, and it made Roy incredibly nervous. If Kimblee did come through the doors, there’d be nowhere to go. Maes must have felt the same way because when Marcoh stood Maes pointed him out the hall. 

“If you please,” he motioned. 

“What's this about,” Marcoh asked, concerned, not expecting to be removed from the room. 

“There’s been a security concern,” Maes answered in a hushed voice. 

“What?” Marcoh stopped in his steps. “About me?” He seemed doubtful.

Roy nodded. “Yes, we believe someone is targeting you, Sir.”

“What for?” he asked, incredulous.

“About this proposition for the west, concerning the land Bradley is interested in.”

Marcoh frowned. “I’m not happy with it, I admit, but… What comes to pass, comes to pass. I will continue to fight for bettering our country regardless.”

“That’s what we’re worried about, Sir.”

“Right,” Marcoh demanded, stopping in his tracks. Maes and Roy turned to face him. Frustration bloomed in Roy’s chest. They needed to move and get him somewhere safe, and he was halting that progress. “Tell me what’s going on. Right now.”

“Sir, we’re trying to, but it’s not safe here -”

Marcoh frowned suddenly. His mouth parted, but he didn’t say a word. Instead, he continued to stare past them, even craning his neck to look over their shoulders. Then, his face fell.

Roy turned first, before Maes, and saw Kimblee. He was walking towards them, smiling. The predatory expression on his face reminded Roy of a shark, slowly moving its way towards its prey. Without thinking, Roy reached for his holster but didn’t even get close.

Kimblee’s hand gripped his shoulder tightly, painfully so, and there were two muffled pops. Roy felt himself being sucker punched in the side in quick succession. Two gunshots.

He gasped, eyes flying open as his knees buckled. His legs jerked out to the side from the force of the hits and on instinct, Roy reached out as he fell, but Kimblee’s arm fell through his hand. He collapsed onto the floor as pain blossomed through his torso. His body hit the ground hard, his head bouncing off the tile. A groan left him, rounded off with another gasp of pain. His breathing was erratic as panic consumed every fibre of his being. To his own ears, Roy’s breaths sounded awful, choked and loud.

He couldn’t see. He couldn’t think. There was another gunshot, much louder this time, and there was shouting, there was screaming, but it all faded out into white noise as pain enveloped Roy completely. He’d been shot, twice, in the side. Kimblee walked right up to him and shot him at point blank range.

Roy gasped as his body convulsed. His shoulders were trying to round in on themselves to protect his body as he lay on the cold floor, but any movement made more pain explode all over his abdomen. He could feel the warmth of his blood around him, which he thought was odd at first, till he saw the red. He rolled on the floor, groaning weakly as he begged the world to give him a reprieve from this pain. He still felt like he couldn’t breathe. Roy was choking on everything, tasting the iron from his blood on his tongue.

“Roy!” The shout broke through everything as his mind shut down, unable to focus on much else as his body reacted to having two bullets forced into it.

Roy’s eyes were unfocussed as his head rolled uncontrollably to try and see who was calling to him. Maes’ face appeared over his, his expression full of worry. He felt Mae's roll him on his back, weight being pressed on his side. He turned his head to shout something to someone, but Roy lost track of his friend’s features. His face melted back into the grey of his vision.

He was losing it. His limbs were relaxing and his body was slowing in its shaking. His legs slid out on the floor and had stopped twitching so much. His arms were becoming heavy by his sides as the grey colour at the edges of his vision was replaced with black. All Roy could see in his mind’s eye was Riza’s face.

He’d broken his promise to her. He’d failed her. The pain had numbed his body, but he still felt that failure settle heavily inside his chest. His heart hurt and he whimpered. He wanted to see her again… Wanted to lose himself in those whiskey eyes that he adored so much. He wanted to kiss her and love her like she deserved… Roy had realised in her bathroom that morning that he loved her. He should've told her. Should have said something. Now, he was going to die, after such an incredible morning he’d had with her? Life truly was cruel.

“Hold on, Roy,” a disembodied voice called to him. There was a hard pressure on his side. He felt his body move as the force increased, but his mind felt detached from it all. He no longer felt pain, just a numbing sensation all over his body.

Roy wanted to hold on. He’d meant it when he told Riza he would, just for her, but it was becoming too hard. His lids were begging to close, pleading for him to give in. If he closed his eyes, he was sure he’d see Riza more clearly… ‘one last hurrah’ echoed inside his mind. How naïve he’d been back then. He didn’t want one last hurrah. He wanted to get up and go to her, just like he’d vowed he would.

But instead, everything just went dark.

[anxiouslynumbme]

 Missing Scene/Moment 

Mature.

3xe03

_________________________________________________

She needed to breathe. The air in the club's bathroom was so thick, she was getting dizzy. She closed her eyes, trying to calm her racing heart. She had to put on a show for her Dad and Yeray, and she was sure her last encounter with Samuel, didn't help matters. Her father had definitely noticed them.

With one final deep breath, she braced herself to get out and face the rest of the night.

"The more you're cruel to me, the more I'm sure something is wrong."

She gasped, turning around at his voice, he was standing in the doorway, staring at her. "Really, Samuel? Take a hint."

He shut the door before leaning against it, "It's okay, Carla. I told you I understand."

"Understand what?"

"You." he sighed, looking down, "what you're doing."

"And what exactly am I doing?" she asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"You're being selfless." he looked up then, warm, nervous brown eyes melting her heart. "being the person I fell in love with."

He said it again. He wasn't supposed to say it again. She wanted to keep the firm belief that he was lying, using her feelings for him to get her to testify. She couldn't believe him. She blinked, her heart leaping in her chest, he was making it so hard. She wanted - needed- him to hate her, so she didn't have to keep pushing him away anymore.

She plastered on a smile, "Wow, you sure are dramatic. You want to fuck me again that badly, huh?"

"Stop!" his voice was hard, as he left his position on the door, advancing on her quickly, "I get it, okay? You don't want this. You don't want to be with me, or can't. I don't care. Just stop being so. . .please just stop."

The way his voice ended on a pained whisper almost broke her. She could see the hurt she was causing him, and it made her insides recoil. It was unfair. The way she fell for him, it was designed specifically to be her undoing. From the start they were doomed, and it was so naive of her to think that after everything that'd happened, she could have him.

"Okay," she muttered, before making a move towards the exit, but he immediately stepped in her path.

"Wait. . .I - "

"What?"

"I hate this." he breathed out, "I hate the way things are."

She hated it too, more than he probably knew. But she kept quiet, afraid that if she started talking, she'd never stop.

"Maybe, maybe we could try and be friends."

Silence. And then a humorless short laugh burst out of her, "That might be the funniest thing you've ever said to me, Samuel."

"I don't know what else to do. What do you suggest?"

"Nothing."

He let out a frustrated breath, running a hand through his hair, "I'm taking what I can get. If it's the only way to have you in my life, I'll take it. But I can't just pretend that we're not. . ." he trailed off.

She was instinctively moving closer to him as he spoke. She couldn't control her movements, his body was almost calling out to hers, her heart jumped as she closed the small distance between them. She slowly raised a hand to grasp his cheek, stroking softly, as she angled her face closer to his. Her other hand was resting over his heart, which was beating so familiarly fast, she could almost hear it.

"Your heart is pounding, Samuel," she whispered, her lips almost brushing his.

"So is yours."

"Yeah. Friends, then?" she asked tauntingly.

"I just miss you." his hands came up to frame her face, his eyes burning into hers, "so much."

"Hmm." that was all she could muster. Her mouth choosing instead to open and run her tongue over his bottom lip softly, as his mouth parted with a small gasp.

Then they both lost it.

His palm slid to her neck, grabbing it firmly with a low growl, mashing his lips against hers. She immediately went for the lapel of his jacket pulling him closer, as she finally got to taste him again. The second his tongue touched hers, she almost wanted to cry. She pushed back hungrily, tongue swirling with his as she gripped his hair tightly.

He groaned, spinning her around and pushing her against the wall. His hands traveled down her sides, hiking up her dress and seizing both her thighs; lifting her up, as she wrapped her legs around his hips.

In her mind, she was only trying to prove they could never be friends with a little seduction.

But it escalated quickly. It was just like them.

What the fuck was she doing?

Stop it now, her mind screamed at her. She didn't know what came over her, it was all just too much. The stress of everything she's been going through, and then he was there, talking to her, being kind and understanding. Then he told her he fell in love with her. And she couldn't help it.

The last time they were here, they had been fighting over him trying to take her phone. The memory of the that time, and the present of their situation was achingly haunting.

She gasped as his lips left hers and trailed down her neck, sponging one desperate kiss after another on her skin. She could feel his arousal in the most delicious way as he rocked his hips harshly against her with a moan. She clutched his hair, bringing him back to her mouth. She could feel his hand making its way to her center, his fingers tracing over her thong. And then reality hit.

She had to be the one to find the strength to stop, anyone could walk in, Yeray was outside. Her father was right outside. And she was positive, they were both wondering where she was. And that thought brought her all the way back down from her high.

She pulled away immediately, pushing on his chest urgently, "Stop."

It took him a second to comprehend the alarm in her voice, before he gently put her down and staggered back, chest heaving, his hair a mess; and his shirt was wrinkled from her hands.

"I'm sorry," he said, voice raspy and eyes dilated, "are you ok - "

"It doesn't matter," she interrupted, looking in the mirror and quickly moving her hands over her dress to straighten it out, before running them through her hair.

"Of course it does, Carla. We need to talk about - "

"Enough, Samuel! I'm fucking sick of it. I'm sick of your stares, and I'm sick of your nagging and your empty words of love. So enough." she snapped, feeling a twinge in her heart, "and this never happened."

He shook his head in disbelief, looking away from her, then instantly directing his dark eyes back on hers.

"You know what, Carla? I'm sick of it too. All of it. I'm sick of your lying and your betrayal, I'm sick of you shutting me and everyone out, and I'm sick of you fucking with my heart!"

Silence enveloped them, as they glared at each other, both breathing heavily. He was right, she should've never let it get that far, that was why she couldn't even be in the same room as him. She caved in and now they were both in more pain than before.

"Carla?"

Yeray's muffled voice behind the door cut through the tension that surrounded them. The door opened and her stomach sank when she realized just how close he came to catching them.

"Yeray." she feigned a smile.

"What's going on? I've been looking for you, is everything okay here?" he asked her, but he was looking at Samuel. Not good. She needed to come up with a lie. To say anything.

"Uh, yeah, Samuel was just reminding me to - "

"We're fine." Samuel interjected, an edge to his voice.

"I don't believe I was talking to you, man."

Before Samuel could even think about opening his mouth, she swayed her body towards Yeray, throwing both arms over his shoulders.

"He's right, you know. Everything's fine, especially now that you," she said, pulling him forward, "are here."

Yeray immediately relaxed, smiling and bending down to kiss her, and she dutifully accepted it. She could feel the sting of Samuel's angry gaze slicing through them like a thousand knives, a second later she heard his furious footsteps storming out.

She opened her eyes amid Yeray's kiss and watched him as he walked away.

______________________________________

[staticscreenwriting]

12 Days of Christmas - [Day 4]

A/N: Day number 4 for the Christmas coundown with @mattysheelies. This one’s almost 6k words. I loved writing this and I hope you like it too. It’s cheesy and cutesy and maybe cliché but it’s Christmas so idgaf. ENJOY ♥

Prompt: Snowed in together.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Reader

“I felt so lonesome, all of a sudden. I almost wished I was dead.”

It happens, every once in a while, that you read a sentence in a book that you’ve read a hundred, maybe a million times before and it suddenly hits you like a punch straight to your gut. Because it’s different now. The book has stayed the same all through the seasons but you realize, you’re a whole new person who’s been through a whole new set of trials and tribulations. And all of a sudden you understand. 

I slump back into the cold, sticky plastic of the bright blue seat and clutch my beat up copy of Catcher in the Rye closer to me. I face the huge windows, looking out into the black of the night and the airplanes, firmly rooted on the ground. There’s a heavy downfall of snow and no sign of it stopping anytime soon. 

Maybe, I realize, this is my reckoning. Isn’t this what I’ve been wishing for ? A white Christmas like the one from the songs and the movies ?

Well merry fucking Christmas, (Y/N).

Every snowflake is a sick reminder of what could have been. Of what isn’t. 

I let my eyes travel around the area. Rows and rows of blue plastic seats. There’s not a lot of people waiting around here. I assume most people have flown home a few days ago to make it in time for Christmas and the few that weren’t smart enough to do that, have resorted to some bar or a restaurant or something. 

In theory, I could do that too. The thing is, spending Christmas eve by myself in an airport restaurant, would just seal the deal for this being the most depressing and downright sad Christmas of my whole life. 

So I stay seated and lose myself in Holden Caulfield's delightful pretentiousness. 

They’re playing Christmas music from a nearby speaker. I wonder if they want to taunt me. Me and everyone else stuck in a fucking snowstorm on Christmas Eve in god damn Indianapolis. They even have a tree set up and where it should make people happy, it only makes me even more sad. I wanna be home with my family, decorating my own tree with all the weird and quirky ornaments we’ve collected over the years. They all come with their own stories and it fills my heart with bittersweet nostalgia.

I’ve never known what being homesick feels like until tonight.

Again my eyes move along the rows of plastic seats. There’s a man in a sharp suit a few rows down. He’s got neatly combed hair and a red tie and shiny shoes and a face that says “ My name is Michael and I don’t allow anyone to call me by a nickname and I have an important job and I drive an expensive car and I probably fuck my secretary. “ 

It’s not a face you particularly want to look at. Except maybe if you’re said secretary. 

A family of 3 sits by the end of the row. They seem — at peace. And for a moment I wish I could be them. I guess it’s different being stuck if you’re stuck with the people you love. 

It makes me bitter to think about it so I avert my eyes and let them travel down the other side of rows. Which turns out to be no better for my mental state because there’s a couple there and they do not seem to care that an airport terminal is not the ideal place for some serious tongue action.

Across from them sits a guy, he’s got a mean mullet. Strands and strands of golden curls. He’s wearing a leather jacket and big black boots and there’s a deep scowl permanently edged onto his face. If he’s aiming for the whole bad boy vibe, he’s really nailing it. 

I can see him shaking his head, as he too notices the couple getting awfully touchy, and I can’t suppress a laugh.

He notices and he looks at me and even across two whole rows of plastic seats I can see just how gorgeously blue his eyes are. 

He doesn’t laugh or smirk or does anything to give me any indication of his feelings. Maybe I’m grateful for it. Maybe I wish he would. It would be quite nice to make a connection with someone right now. Just to make being alone feel a little less lonely.

“ the snow's comin' down

(Christmas) I'm watchin' it fall

(Christmas) lots of people around

(Christmas) baby, please come home”

It’s quite ironic, really,that they would chose this damn song. Of all the Christmas songs in all of the world. 

Mullet boy seems to be a kindred spirit in this regard, I can see him sigh and murmur a “for fucks sake” into to collar of his jacket, as he sinks deeper into the chair.

“They’re singing deck the halls, but it’s not like Christmas at all. “ 

Yeah it really fucking isn’t. 

A smacking of lips catches my attention and I focus back on the couple just to witness the guy’s hand travel straight under the sweater of his girlfriend. It’s a sight I don’t particularly want to see. 

A sight that apparently makes my face screw up in aversion. And as it does, old blue eyes looks back at me and this time, I see a smirk. It vanishes as quickly as it appeared but I know for a fact that it was there. Maybe I don’t have to be all that lonely after all.

I close the bruised and battered orange book that, at this point, is hardly orange anymore, and place it in my backpack. If my life was a John Hughes movie or maybe any other romantic comedy, I’d get off my seat and walk over. There’d be some cheesy some playing in the background, maybe by the Smiths. I would throw him a smile and he’d look at me, an angel’s choir singing wonderous melodies. And tonight would change both our lives forever.

Alas my life is not a movie that Morrissey wrote any songs about. I am a coward and my heart already lies in several little pieces at my feet. So I don’t walk over just like that with no idea what to say, no incentive.

Instead I grab my backpack and walk past him, down a long corridor and end up at a vending machine that sells both, coffee and soup and I secretly pray that they don't come from the same jet. 

The last coffee I had, I think as the warm liquid fills the paper cup, I bought at the little cart by Kelvin’s dorm room. It was a good coffee, had Hazelnut sirup in it. I remember the warmth of it in my hand. I remember the taste on my tongue. I vividly remember the sound of the cup hitting the floor and the stains on my pants and the feeling of my heart as it broke in two.

I don’t want to remember that though, so I will myself to ignore it. To push the thoughts away. I fill the second cup, grab it, put lids on them and then carry them back towards the row of seats.

Mullet boy doesn’t as much as glance at me as I drop down in the seat next to him. Only shows me that he notices me as I hold one of the coffee cups out to him.

“ Sorry it’s not booze. I know that would make looking at these two a little more entertaining. “ 

For a second he just looks at me in confusion, contemplates whether or not to trust me. In the end he takes the drink so I take that for a good sign.

“ Thanks. “ 

His voice is deep and raspy and I really really like the way it sounds. 

“ I wonder if they even realize there’s other people around “ I say, watching the dude’s hand travel down the girls back, as they dreamily blink at each other like the main characters on a romance novel. Maybe those two get the romance and the the Smith song in the background. Maybe I’m just a sad side character in their story.

Mullet boy scoffs, takes a sip of coffee then speaks up. “ Don’t even think they’d notice if we joined in “.

He smirks at that. There’s an absolute underappreciation for people who laugh at their own jokes. I think it’s charming, endearing even. If you can’t laugh at your own joke, how do you expect anyone else to do it.

“ Least they’re not alone on Christmas fucking eve “ 

I don’t know why I say it. I don’t necessarily want to share my sob story. Sometimes my words just move faster than my head does.

“ Christmas is overrated anyway “ blue eyes says and shrugs his shoulders in a way that’s supposed to look casual. Only you can’t say shit like “Christmas is overrated” and be casual about it. There’s always more to a statement like that.

“ You think ? “ 

“ I know. “

“ How come ? “ 

He turns to face me and raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow. It’s like he’s straight from the cover of one of my mom’s romance novels. I think it’s quite unfair that he gets to look like this on a day like today and I — I look just the way I feel. Sad. Exhausted. 

“ It’s none of your business. “ 

“ Oh geez, and here I was thinking we were bonding over our shared distaste for PDA. Guess not. “ 

“ You guessed right. “ 

For a moment, we fall into silence as another song plays over the stereo that has entirely too many obnoxious jingle bells in the backing track. For a moment I feel very lonely again.

It’s then, that the universe seems to have pity on me. It sends me a sign. A gift. A little Christmas miracle if you will.

That comes in the form of the couple getting more touchy, more — obnoxious. So obnoxious that the girl leans back, presumably to lay on the seats, only that’s not what happens. It seems to happen in slow motion when really it’s probably only the blink of an eye. She leans back and back and back and suddenly tumbles off the seats and onto the cold linoleum floor, her mister holding onto her so tightly, he falls right down with her.

My mama always told me not to laugh at other people’s misfortune. But at 18 years of age, I feel it’s time to break some rules my mama set. And this is one of them.

I can’t help it. I laugh. It comes from the deepest corner of my belly and fills my entire being. Then I catch those gorgeous blue eyes looking at my and I notice he’s laughing too. A hearty laugh. I think it’s a good one. No halfway laugh. No bullshitting. It’s a proper laugh and, as we lock eyes, our laughter only seems to increase.

The magic bubble that, until now, has surrounded the couple, seems to have been popped. It’s vanished. For them at least. Because as our laughter rings in unison, a proper harmony of joy, I feel like maybe me and mullet boy have been given a tiny spark of magic ourselves.

“ I’m (Y/N), by the way “ I say, trying to hold in more chuckles.

“ Billy ” 

“ No no, you got it all wrong. His name is Michael and he’s on a business trip that he tells his wife he couldn’t postpone but actually he just wanted to get away from his family for the holidays. “ 

“ Michael ? nah. This dude’s not a Michael. “ 

“ So what’s his name then, Billy ? “ 

He thinks for a moment, face scrunched up in a way that is absolutely adorable. It makes him look way younger than he probably is. Very boy-ish. Very cute.

“ Edward “

“ Edward ? “ 

“ Yes. Look at him, he looks so boring. And can you think of a more boring name than fucking Edward ? “ 

I have to admit, he has a point. So I shrug and nod. “ You have a point. “ 

The little family from earlier, passes us and, as the mom glances towards us, her eye linger on Billy just a moment too long for it to be accidental. And he notices, the cocky bastard. He notices and revels in it, letting the corner of his lips lift up in a teasing smirk.

“ What the fuck was that ? “ I asked, flattened by the sheer audacity for both of them.

“ I got that effect on women of all ages. “ 

“ Wow, your ego is really tiny, huh. “ 

When he looks at me, grin widening and eye filling with mischief, I know I just said the wrong thing. I set myself up with this one, I admit that.

“ That’s the only thing tiny about me. “ 

“ Aaaand that’s my cue to leave. “ I pull myself halfway out of my seat when his arm shoots out and his hand grabs onto mine. The mischief in his eyes in gone, completely replaced by a pure and unfiltered honesty.

“ Stay. Please. “ 

I sink back down and we fall into a silence. He knows that I saw it in his eyes, the fear of being left alone and I know that he knows and so we’re stuck in this weird limbo of whether to ignore it or spill our sorrows to one another. And maybe it’s because today is Christmas and on Christmas you tell the truth, even if it to a stranger at an airport, but he suddenly breaks the silence and starts talking.

“ I don’t wanna be alone. “ 

“ Yeah me neither. “ 

“ I uh — I was supposed to be in California, to visit my mom over Christmas. I haven’t seen her in — in years. This was supposed to be our first Christmas together since I was 8. I called her earlier, from the payphone. I thought she might be devastated. She’s not. I don’t think she cares very much if I’m there or not. I’m still debating whether or not I wanna get on the plane if it ever goes. “ 

“ I came to visit my boyfriend for Christmas. Surprise him, you know. He’s going to college here in Indiana. We’re both from California and we haven’t seen each other since the summer. I thought It was the ultimate proof of my love to him. Well — turns out he’s been fucking his way around campus while I’ve been busy making plans on how to rearrange my life and all my dreams, to come study with him in Indiana after I graduate High School. “

Another silence fills our hearts but this one isn’t thick with anticipation and tension. It’s one that settles deep in our bones as we realize, that sometimes there’s comfort in shared misery. 

“ Merry fucking Christmas to us. “ Billy murmures.

“ Do you wanna go see if we can get a drink at the bar ? “

“ That’s the best idea I’ve heard in a while. “ 

“ I can not believe your fake ID says you’re name’s Ricky Hardman. “ 

“ If you’re mocking me I can just drink this myself, you know. “ 

“ Oh come on. It’s just — that sounds like such a porn name. “ 

“ So what. “ 

I have to snort at his complete lack of self reflection. He knows I’m right but he’s so stubborn. Again I find myself thinking it’s endearing rather than annoying.

To come back to a statement I made earlier, I also think we don’t appreciate the people enough, that make us snort-laugh. Is it a bit embarrassing and cringy? Sure but it’s a laugh either way and I don’t think we should ever take that for granted.

“ Put the cups down so I can spice it up a little bit “ Billy instructs me and I do as he says. This is probably our 4th refill of coffee for the night, my mom would have a go at me for all the caffeine but whatever.

Billy opens the bottle of booze he just purchased at the airport store and pour us both a decent amount into our coffees. Might as well have our own little Christmas celebration if we’re stuck here with nothing else to do.

Cups clutched in our hands we roam around the airport, cheeks warming up from the alcohol. I feel more at peace now and yet my heart is ever as heavy with the longing to be home. 

A sign directs us towards the visitors terrace where families usually gather to watch the planes take off and land. It’s deserted now but that’s not really a surprise. It’s cold, it’s snowing and there’s no flights going anyway. It’s just a dark, snowy night and a lonely runway illuminated by small lights that, if you believe hard enough, almost look like fairy lights in the distance.

“ I know it looks pretty, “ I say as I lean against the banister of the terrace “ but I really don’t find snow all that great.” 

“ I fucking sucks, “ Billy replies. “ It’s cold and wet and turns into gray slosh in the matter of a few minutes. “ 

“ I always dreamed of a white Christmas, now I can’t wait to never see snow again. “ 

“ Me too. I hate it. Snow. Indiana. At least you get to stay in California once you make it there. I have to wait until graduation to finally move back home. “ 

I don’t want to pry, I really don’t but there’s something about him that intrigues me. Everything he says and does in scrowded in some kind of mystery. Some hidden meaning in all of it. 

The way he looks and the way his words hold a certain softness to them, is a whole enigma in itself.

“ You wanna come back to Cali ? “ 

“ Fuck yes. I can’t stay here longer than I need to. I miss the sun and the beach and — my home. “ 

“ Oh god yes, the beach. “ 

“ See, and you wanted to give up on all of that for a guy called Kelvin. “ 

“ I — he’s nice.” 

“ Oh I’m sure he is. And secure and smart. “ 

“ He is. We’ve been together since my sophomore year in Highschool. He was my first — everything. He studies business and is gonna take over his dad’s company one day. “ 

Billy blows a raspberry before turning to me with his perfect eyebrow raised in mockery. 

“ That is so dull. “

“ It’s not “ 

 “ But it is ! Tell me honestly, do you really love this guy or is it just — comfortable. Being with him ? “ 

And once again, something that I’ve considered so many times in my life, suddenly affects me in a completely different way than I am used to. I understand all of a sudden. 

I get it.

“ I mean, maybe you have a point. What makes you the relationship expert though ? “ 

“ Nothing. I’m not saying I am. But I know I never plan on spending my whole life with someone because I am comfortable with them. It’s your goddamn life, you should live it for yourself. “ 

It hits me light a freight train. Straight in the heart. He’s right. Whether I want to admit it or not, Billy is right. I don’t let him know that though, it’s hard enough admitting it to myself. I think he knows anyway, by the way I look at him. By the way he looks at me. 

“ Have you decided whether or not you wanna get on the flight ? “ I ask. It’s still not my place to ask those questions but it feels like something has shifted between us. Like tonight is ours entirely. A night of truths. Of heart opened and unguarded.

“ The alternative is spending Christmas with my dad and his wife and my stepsister. “ 

“ Sounds alright to me. “ 

“ Yeah, only my dad is the biggest asshole on the planet. He’s not a nice guy. His wife is a fucking nutcase, obeying his every will. She has the backbone of a jellyfish. And Max — Max hates me. That one’s my fault though. “ 

I want to hug him. It’s a strong urge that overcomes me. A sudden rush. His words are soft and sad and frustrated and I can see in his eyes just how much this hurts him. And god, it’s Christmas Eve. I just want to make him feel a little less alone.

So I do. I hug him, rest my head on his shoulder and together we look at the snow falling around us, covering the world in a thick white frosty blanket. 

“ I’m sorry about that. Just so you know though, I’m glad we’re stuck here together. “ 

“ Well yeah, I’m hot and fun and I have great hair. “ 

“ Oh there we go again with the ego. “ I laugh. He makes me me laugh. Like genuinely laugh. I can’t remember the last time I felt like this around Kelvin.

“ What’s that book you’ve been reading. “ Billy asks as the laughter settles down again.

“ Catcher in the Rye. It’s one of my favorites. “ 

“ Uh-huh. What’s it about ?” 

“ This boy, Holden. He gets kicked out of prep school and runs of to New York City and yeah it basically chronicles his days in NYC. It’s about loss of innocence and isolation. “ 

“ Sounds absolutely — “ 

“ Wonderful “ 

“ Boring. “ 

Here’s the thing about interests and hobbies. They’re a very personal, very individual experience. They’re yours. And yes, maybe it’s nice to share your passions with another person who feels the same. But let’s be honest: It doesn’t really matter. I am not hurt by Billy’s disinterest. Not even by his mocking scoff. Because it in no way lessens my love for the book. The story it tells and the nostalgia it brings me.

It also doesn’t lessen the affection growing inside me, towards Billy. An affection that both scares and excites me at the same time. By all means, it is delusional to fall for a stranger at an airport, who doesn’t even live in the same state as me. Someone I’ve only spent a few hours with.

Then again, life is never a straight path. I used to think it was but after tonight, maybe I can let myself take some backroads. Take a road less traveled. See where it leads me and if it brings me to a dead end, turn around and try again.

Maybe sometimes it needs a boy with a leather jacket and gorgeous blue eyes, to make you realize that life can be so much more if you just let yourself live it.

“ Okay sure. What are your interests then ? I’m sure there’s something you like doing, something you care about. “ 

“ My car. “ 

“ That’s such a guy answer. “ 

“ Pff, whatever. “ 

“ What else ? “ 

He takes a moment to answer. Contemplates. Mulls his answer over in his head. There’s a vulnerability in his eyes I haven’t seen since he talked about his mom earlier tonight.

“ Music. “ 

“ Music ?” 

“ I really care about music. Not — not playing it but just music in itself. You can’t tell anyone this, okay ? It’s a bit ridiculous and It’s not really realistic, but I would love to work at a record label. Or maybe have my own music venue. To help discover bands and find new, awesome music. Whenever I’m sad or angry or frustrated, or even happy, there’s a specific songs for any emotion, any situation. I want everyone to be able to have that in their life. “ 

There’s something undeniably sexy about someone being passionate about something. He only just started but I could honestly listen to Billy talk about music for hours and hours and hours.

“ So who’s your favorite band then ? “ 

“ I’ll sound pretentious as fuck but my favorites are probably some local bands from my hometown in California. “ 

“ Maybe when you’re back home after graduation, you can take me to a gig. Show me some of those bands. “

My heart beats faster as I realize this is the first time either of us has mentioned there being a future. More than just one magical night at the airport. 

It slipped out but I’m glad it did. The idea of more nights together, more time spent listening to him talk about his music. Experiencing that music with him. It doesn’t scare me. In fact, it excites me so much.

“ Yeah. Sounds like a plan. “ 

“ A good plan. “

“ A great plan. “ 

I don’t know if he notices that I notice, but his hand drops to the small of my back, so gently it’s but a whisper of a touch. It warms me up more than our boozy coffee ever managed to.

Airports have a weird energy. A specific mood that transcends through every corner in every room. It’s loaded with the arrival of change. It might be good and exciting or it might be sad. But something is about to change and you can feel it sizzling in the air.

As I stand next to Billy in the softly falling snow, I know that the girl that arrived at the airport earlier today, heartbroken and without purpose, is not the same girl that’s gonna get on that flight home. Something has changed. I think I like this new girl better.

“ They’re singing deck the halls … “ 

“ Oh Jesus, what is it with this fucking song ? “ 

“ What, you don’t like it ? “ 

“ Do you ? “ 

“ Totally “ 

I don’t know what hits me. Maybe it’s the fact that the future is so awfully unknown. I don’t know if after tonight I will ever see Billy again. Or maybe because it’s Christmas. 

Or maybe because I’m a little drunk and half in love.

But I start to dance and sing along. With the snow falling down on me. Snowflakes dropping onto my hair and melting, leaving it wet and streaky. But it doesn’t matter right then. All that matter is the music and the night and him and I.

“ Come dance with me. “ 

“ I don’t dance. “ 

“ It’s Christmas Eve, Billy. It’s my Christmas wish. Come on. There’s no one around. “ 

Here’s some piece of advice from me to you: If you’ve never had a guy in a leather jacket and biker boots twirl you around while the snow is falling and Christmas songs play over the stereo, then you’re missing out.

Billy’s hand is warm, his smile is gentle. It’s all so vastly different from the way I felt when touching Kelvin. Everything that comes with Billy is an enigma, a surprise. Nothing is certain and yet I am sure that I’ve never felt more alive than I do right now.

The last chord of the song echoes through the night as Billy pulls me close to him, I can see his breath in the cold, accumulating in little clouds. I can feel his skin in mine. 

“ You’re gonna get on that flight, Billy Hargrove. “ I say, my voice but a sigh. A whisper

“ I’m gonna get on the flight. I’m gonna graduate and then come back to California. Permanently this time. I’ll find you and take you to all the underground clubs and show you all my favorite bands. And I’ll even listen to you talk about your books. “ 

“ Even if you think they’re boring. “ 

“ Uh-huh. “ 

“ Hey Billy. “ 

“ Hmm ? “

“ I think I wanna write a book. I think that’s what I want to do with my life. “ 

He’s so close now, our noses touching, our breaths touching, our lips touching. Warm and soft and gentle.

“ Write about us, so you don’t forget me. “ 

I kiss him then. Or he kisses me. I don’t know for sure but really what does it matter. In the grand scheme of things it’s irrelevant who initiated the kiss. It matters that it happened. And by god I will never be able to forget this kiss or the boy that gave it to me. 

“ Dear passengers, we are delighted to announce that the runway has been cleared. The sky is blue and free of any downfall. Flights will resume shortly. More information about departure times will be available shortly. Feel free to turn to our staff for guidance or additional information. 

“ Billy. Hey, Billy. “ I say, and shake him awake. He looks so peaceful and boyish while sleeping, it breaks my heart a little to interrupt his sleep. 

“ Hmm.. ? “ 

“ I think our flights are gonna go soon. Snow’s stopped. “ 

“ Oh. “

I don’t have to ask to know what he’s feeling. What he wants to say. “ Oh. this is it for us. “ 

We gather our stuff, stretch our limbs and get off the uncomfortable plastic seats. The board on the wall shows us that our flights go in just two hours. His to San Diego, mine to LA. 

Our time is numbered and we finally have an expiration date. My heart breaks once again though this time I try to hold onto the fact that we both want a future of whatever it is we’re sharing. Even if it’s just a friendship, I want Billy Hargrove in my life.

“ Hey uh — “ Billy speaks up and takes my hand in his “ let’s make a deal. “ 

“ What deal ? “ 

“ To see each other again. Maybe — maybe next Christmas Eve. “ 

“ Where ? “ 

“ I don’t know. Let me — let me come to you. “

“ Santa Monica pier. “ 

“ Okay sure. “ 

“ Cool. “ 

“ Cool. “ 

He kisses me again and this one too, will stay with me forever. In my heart and in my head.

“ Here I’ll give you my phone number. Call me if anything changes. If my dad answers just ignore his stupid comments “ He says, fumbles around in his backpack and come up with a pen and — a cassette tape ?!

“ Something to remember me by “ he points out as he scribbles his number onto the little slip of paper. “ Some of my favorite songs on there. “ 

“ If you give me something, let me give you something too. “ I say and pull out my old worn out copy of Catcher in the Rye, scribble a message on the first page, then hand it to him.

“ There’s a bunch of notes in the margins. I never got to share them with anyone, I’ll gladly share them with you. “ 

Then I kiss him. Again and again and again, until it’s all I can think about and all I can feel.

“ Flight 207 to LAX boarding now. “ 

And that is it for us, at least for now. The magic of last night is broken. It’s Christmas Eve gone, replaced by Christmas day. No snowstorm. No magic. Just the brutal truth that real life awaits.

So we part. With more kisses and a promise.

“ Until next Christmas. “ 

The plane is already high up in the air when Billy Hargrove pulls the book from his pocket. It’s old and worn out and what looks like it used to be orange once upon a time is now a washed out beige.

He opens it up to the first page and can’t suppress a smile. A real one. Not one of those he fakes for his dad and susann. A real smile that reaches his eyes. One he feels in his heart.

“ Meet me at the Merry-Go-Round! “ 

His heart soars as he thinks about next year. A future that suddenly looks much brighter than ever before. 

There’s a lot of notes and scribbles and highlighted sentences. He skims through it until one passage catches his attention.

“ Make sure you marry someone who laughs at the same things you do. “ 

And so he thinks back to the overly touchy couple and their magnificent tumble from the plastic seats. And he remembers her laugh and his ringing up in unison.

He understands. That Holden guy has a point. Maybe it’s worth reading the book after all.

A year later.

I’m rushing through the crowd of people, a vibrant clementine sky the backdrop for my misery. God, why can I never be on time.

My heart hammers in my chest. Please don’t leave. Please don’t leave.

His eyes meet mine across the way as he leans against the banister by the Merry-Go-Round and I feel like I am back at the airport. The magic is back.

“ Sorry I am late. I am so so sorry.  “  I say and can’t help myself but pull him into a kiss. One filled with passion and longing and a promise kept.

“ Ah If a girl looks swell when she meets you, who gives a damn if she’s late. “ He replies.

“ You read the book. “ 

“ I read the book and all your notes. “ 

“ That’s good, I uh — have something else for you to read. “ 

It’s a bundle of papers, no cover art or fancy pictures on the front page. All it says in big bold letters is “ A white Christmas - a story of girl meets boy. “ I hand it to Billy and he looks at me in confusion.

“What’s that ? “ 

“ That’s the first draft of my book. “ 

“ You wrote it! “ 

“ You believed I could so I did. “ 

“ What’s it about ? “

“ Oh you know, just a girl and a boy and a magical night at the airport. Lots of snow. Lots of kissing. Little bit of magic. “ 

“ Can’t wait to read it. So, you wanna go see a band ? “ 

“ They any good ? “ 

“ Pretty fucking good!” 

Darlene Love’s voice echoes through the stereo and for the first time I have to disagree. This feels like Christmas more than any moment before ever did.

And my baby is finally home.

 Taglist; [I copied this from @mattysheelies​ and just added a few new ones, if you wanna be added or deleted from the taglist please let me know]

@sebastiansloserclub ; @killer-queen-xo ; @william-hargroves ; @billysgodcomplex ; @daisyxbuckley ; @allabouthargrove ; @mcrmarvelloki ; @charmed-asylum ; @1998--js ; @naiomiwinchester​ ; @hargrovesprincess​ ; @mystrangerfics​ ; @teafrompari​ ; @staybruuutal​ ; @colourado​ ; @higher-further-faster-bb​ ; @ayybtch​ ; @carlaangel86​ ; @baebee35​

[savvyqueen18]

SilveeLocke | Let's Go Eevee ZombieLocke | Pt. 2

I’ve got a good stock of back log and am going to be posting these every 3 days or so. I’ll continue to add to it as time goes on. But I need to give myself time to writ more haha. After that they will be consistently uploaded every Wednesday once we reach the current issue. I am currently working on part 10 as I post this.

♡♡♡

Part 2: Juniper Berries

♡♡♡

>Next Part

>Previous Part

>Part 1

>Meet Silviana

>Meet Xander

The laboratory smelled funny, nothing there brought comfort to her as the Professor talked to the only other child in the room. She rolled her only pokéball in her hand.

That, she could admit, was one of the only things keeping her comfort.

"Alright my boy, this is your brand new pokémon," Professor Oak opened the pokéball in his hand and a yellow pokémon came out.

"Pika-pi!" It cried and jumped into Xander's arms.

Xander laughed brightly, "Oh my god you're so cute!" He hugged the little pokémon tightly as it nuzzled his face, "I'm going to call you Spark!" The Pikachu happily cried out hearing its name for the first time.

Silviana lifted her pokéball to her chest, and with a click the ball opened all on its own. The little Eevee popped out onto the lab table she was standing next to. The little brown pokémon was giving her a look.

"Oh wow! Is that an Eevee! That's a pretty rare pokémon out in the wild!" Xander came over to the table with Spark still in his arms. The Eevee quickly turned to glare at him and his pikachu. It lashed its tail as he spoke, "You know I thought that it was mostly breeders that came to own rare pokémon like these," he pulled his face slowly closer to the Eevee.

The closer he got, the more Silviana could see the little pokémon's brow furrow. With a growl it barked loudly at Xander and made him jump.

"Wow! It's really got some spunk doesn't it!" Xander got a spark in his eye, "Hey! Why don't we have our first battle! We are rivals now after all." He smirked at her.

Silviana looked to the little brown pokémon on the table, "I don't know Xander, I kinda wanna just get goi–"

The Eevee jumped off the table, landing on the floor with a readied stance.

"Aww yea! That's the spirit!" He let go of his Pikachu.

As soon as Spark touched the floor, it was tackled by the Eevee. They rolled across the floor, the Eevee nimbly jumping out of the tussle while the Pikachu. The Pikachu in turn did not get up from the laboratory floor, it made little sounds as it lay there.

"Oh no! Xander I swear I didn't mean for it to do that! It doesn't listen to me for some reason!" Silviana clutched her arm.

Xander looked at his fainted Pikachu, he gave a nervous laugh, "Haha, well I guess we'll just have to watch out for you in the future then, huh?" He crouched next to Spark to pick him up gently.

Professor Oak came over, "No need to worry my boy, we can heal him right away." He pulled Xander over to one of the many machines in the laboratory.

"If you want to go on ahead I'll catch up as soon as Spark is healed!" He called back to her.

"If you say so," she called back to him. She looked over to the Eevee, "You should get back in your pokéball so it's easier for me to cary you." When she pulled out the pokéball, the little pokémon growled, "Well what do you want me to do carry you?"

The Eevee looked at her expectantly. Silviana rolled her eyes and crouched down, but the pokémon turned with a flick of its ear and started walking toward the exit. Silviana gave the Eevee an exasperated sigh and followed it to exit the building.

On their way out of town Silviana thought to herself, Xander was able to easily name his Pikachu... Why can't I come up with a name for you...

She looked at her Eevee. It half glanced back at her, with a flick of its little tail it looked back forward. She sighed and pulled her bag in front of her going through it to look for her phone. She pulled out a couple of pokéballs that the professor gave to her for her journey, still digging trough the backpack.

She felt something catch her foot and she fell with a thud, her face landing in the grass and the poéballs flying out of her hand into the grass ahead of her. She picked up her head, taking off her glasses, she rubbed her face.

Dang, I'm such a klutz today.

She looked to the Eevee who had its eyes half-glaring ahead. Silviana heard something shuffle in the grass ahead of her, she couldn't see past the tall grass though. She heard the cry of a strange pokémon and a flash of red. Hearing three clicks, she got up to look at what she had "caught".

Popping open the pokéball, a little grassy pokémon with vines and a yellow flowering head stared back at her.

"Well you look like a little Venus Fly Trap don't you?" Something clicked in her mind, "Oh that's perfect! I'll name you Trahp! Strange spelling of course 'cause it's cooler," she smiled at the Bellsprout, it gave a cute little quack in response. Silviana giggled and looked at the Eevee. It was unamused.

"Look I'm sorry I don't have a name for you still," she put Trahp back into the pokéball, "maybe you should come up with your own name." Silviana pouted, the Eevee used a paw to pat down the little tuft of hair on top of its head, then glared at her. She watched the pokémon continue on ahead and she march down the path following close behind.

As Silviana continued to ahead, she looked carefully at the little pokémon. Huh... Small, brown... Brownie! No that's stupid... She watched the Eevee stop and use it's paw to pat down the tuft of hair on its head again.

She looked at the color pattern on its fur and noticed the tail had dark stripes that stretched from the base and wrapped around its tail. It somewhat mimicked the little tuft of fur that was bothering the little pokémon.

Wow, that actually reminds me of... Blue skies, shaded clearing, a strong hand holding her up to pick the berries from...

"Junipur!" She halted and cried out. The Eevee stared back at her with a raised eyebrow, she crouched down next to it, "I'm going to call you Junipur." She smiled at Junipur and opened her arms for the pokémon to rush toward her.

Junipur looked at her for a moment before glancing off to the side. With a little nod of its head, it continued onward.

"Right," Silviana stood up somewhat disappointedly, "Junipur," she smiled softly as she caught up to the little brown pokémon.

◇◇◇

As they entered the little town of Veridian, Silviana pulled out a little list her mom had made for her.

"Right, so we need to go to the..." she squinted at the paper, "pokémart, to get some supplies before we head further," She looked at Junipur who just ignored her, "you can't walk into a grocery mart, I should carry you or something so they don't think your a wild pokémon. Since you refuse to get into your pokéball," she complained.

She called to Junipur and crouched down with her arms open. Junipur sat and stared at her for a long minute.

"Oh come on... We need to get going," Silviana put her hands on her knees, she saw Junipur rush toward her. When she caught the little pokémon in her arms it squirmed, Silviana tried to hold her a little tighter, "Hey! Stop! Ow! Your claws hurt!" She let go with a gasp. Junipur used this opportunity to climb onto Silviana's shoulder. She supported herself by resting her back legs on Silviana's backpack with her front paws gripping onto her shoulder.

Silviana looked at Junipur, "Oh, well I guess that can work." She continued to the pokémart. Junipur settled itself more onto Silviana's shoulder as they walked into the mart. The little pokémon continued to fuss with the tuft of fur on her head. As Silviana checked out with all of the items she needed, she looked down at the clear glass container at the counter. Pointing to one of the items in the glass, she said, "Can I have one of those in a blue color?"

"I'm sorry miss, we only have them in a black color at this location," the clerk said.

"No worries," Silviana paid for her supplies. She grabbed the little black hat she had purchased in addition and plopped it onto Junipur's head. The pokémon looked stunned at first then looked at Silviana confusedly, "I just thought you could use something to cover up the fur you kept messing with," Silviana smiled kindly.

Junipur looked away and gave a short snort of approval.

They wondered around town. Silviana stopped at every little wonder she could see, Junipur even seemed to be enjoying herself because she found a few berries near the a path that stretched eastward out of town. Silviana watched her Eevee eat the berries as she soaked in the sunlight of the mid afternoon.

She glanced to her right when she heard footsteps coming in her direction from the path beyond.

"Heya Sil!" Xander waved to her, his Pikachu hopping along side him, "There was a guy further down the path that said that that way is blocked for us, he recommended to go north if we're doing the Gym Challenge.

Silviana came to a stand, "Well what were you doing over there in the first place?"

"Oh I was just looking for rare pokémon, did you catch anything yet?"

"Yea," She brought out Trahp. The little Bellsprout let out a toot of happiness.

"Sweet Bellsprout! You wanna battle?"

"Isn't that unfair for you since I have two pokémon and you don't?" Silviana retorted.

Xander looked down at Spark. His Pikachu had it's ears pinned back and was glancing nervously between Xander and Junipur, slowly it tried to hide itself behind one of Xander's legs. Xander let out a chuckle, "Yea, probably, I think Spark wants to go. Plus I should be off if I want to catch up to you, you seem to be giving it all you got!" He waved to her as he and Spark walked off.

"Well," she looked to her pokémon, "I think we should head on our way too." She put Trahp back in the pokéball and crouched down so that Junipur could hop onto her shoulder once agian. Junipur just stared at her.

"Please Junipur, we need to get moving," She pleaded.

The little brown pokémon looked at her. It picked one of its paws up, but marched off in the direction of the next route. Silviana let out a soft sigh.

They walked across town to get to the route gate. Silviana walked over to the little billboard that was right outside of the entry way. There were a lot of dumb ads on there and some flyers for pokémon training classes. But at the top was a notice to trainers heading into the forrest beyond.

Veridian Forest

Please be mindful of the bug pokémon that inhabit the forest. Do not disturb the Beedrill nests.

Oh great... Bug pokémon

"Vee!" Junipur snapped her out of her thoughts.

"Right," she glanced from the billboard notice to Junipur and began to walk up the small flight of steps, "Let's hurry up and get through this." As they walked into the building, they were greeted by a couple of the forrest care staff. She received information about the different pokémon that inhabited the forrest as well as a map to get her through.

Silviana looked to the archway that lead to the forrest beyond. Looking down at Junipur she watched the tiny pokémon flick its ears and listen to the sounds coming from the forrest. With a deep breath, she walked out into the dim light of Veridian Forrest.

[the-observant-frisbeetarian]

Chapter 8

Auf Wiedersehen, Sweetheart by George deValier

Feliciano sat leaning against the oak tree under a storm darkened sky. A swift, freezing wind shook the leaves and branches overhead and huge claps of thunder rolled threateningly between the mountains. Feliciano pulled his jacket closer and glanced anxiously across the field for what felt the hundredth time. He had barely slept the night before, too many thoughts and memories and fears assaulting his mind. He refused to admit the truth to himself – that he did not expect Ludwig to be here today. That he had no way to reach him. The thought terrified him, but he quickly decided: if Ludwig did not turn up, Feliciano would find the airbase and go to him. It could not be far - Ludwig walked there and back every day. There were Germans coming in and out of the village constantly. He could find it if he had to. Because he had to see Ludwig again - even if it was the last time. Feliciano made the decision, and promptly fell asleep.

Feliciano was woken by a cold hand on his cheek. He opened his eyes, blinking, to see Ludwig before him: those bright blue eyes and golden hair and strong, handsome, kind face framed by the black clouds behind him. Feliciano's chest filled with a bright, intense, breathtaking joy. He smiled slowly, sleepily, happily. "I'm dreaming."

Ludwig's lips turned upwards in a tiny smile. "Is it a good dream?"

Feliciano nodded, lost dreamily in Ludwig's enthralling eyes, a warm shudder spreading down his spine. "Yes. You're in it." Lightning flashed overhead; memory hit. Feliciano blinked away the haze, the joy vanished, and he fell forward against Ludwig, fell into his strong and secure and heartbreaking embrace. "Tell me I'm not dreaming, Ludwig," he whispered roughly. He wondered how long he had slept. The sky was so dark for morning. "Tell me you're here."

"I'm here, Feliciano. I'm here with you." Ludwig kissed him gently and Feliciano melted into it, Ludwig's lips and breath so warm in contrast with the freezing wind. Feliciano shivered as he felt Ludwig's fingers run softly through his hair. "I did not startle you?" Ludwig whispered against his lips. "You told me once to wake you slowly if I found you sleeping here. Do you remember?"

His throat choked with emotion, Feliciano could only nod. He ran his hands over Ludwig's arms, through his fingers, over his shoulders; smelt his jacket, felt him, held him, breathed him in. "I'm so glad you came." He laughed shakily. "I didn't think I would see you again. Yesterday, you scared me so much... I didn't think you would come back!"

"Nothing can keep me away, remember?" Ludwig smiled and kissed Feliciano's hair. Feliciano sighed, almost happily. "I am sorry I scared you. It was not what I thought. The Americans were not attacking."

Feliciano flinched. The mention of the Americans was like a splash of icy water. "So, they haven't landed?" He tried to make it sound like he didn't already know.

"No. That was just a scouting mission."

Feliciano's chest soared with hope. Ludwig knew it was a scouting mission. Maybe he already knew about the landing. "So, they have not landed yet, but…" Feliciano trailed off, knew he was speaking dangerously. But he had to know how much Ludwig knew.

"It was a diversionary tactic," said Ludwig. Feliciano started to breathe in cautious relief. He knew it was a diversion… the Germans had seen through it… they must know about the landing… "The Americans are too busy in France to launch an attack here just yet. They are trying to confuse us." Ludwig squeezed Feliciano's hand reassuringly, but Feliciano's heart turned to ice and a wrenching agony pulled at his chest. Ludwig didn't know after all. The Germans would be unprepared. It would all happen just as Grandpa Roma had said it would, just as it had all been planned, just as Feliciano had helped plan it himself. The Americans would land. They would attack. They would strike at the German airbase and destroy the place, destroy Ludwig, destroy Feliciano. And Feliciano could do nothing to stop it, could not even warn Ludwig - not without committing treason.

Feliciano could feel himself breaking. So this was it... this was the last time. He let the tears rise and hid his face against Ludwig's neck. He started to wonder if he had made the right decision in coming here this morning. This was a torture worse than anything the Gestapo could possibly do to him. Ludwig ran a hand gently up Feliciano's back, brushed the hair at the base of his neck. He took a shuddering breath against Feliciano's ear.

"I can not stay today."

Feliciano gasped, the pain in his chest turning to panic. He shot upright, rigid with shock. "What? No!"

Ludwig's eyes were pained. "I'm sorry. I should not even be here. I only have a few moments..." He looked at the ground, his cheeks reddening slightly. "Only a few moments, but I had to spend them with you. But I have to be at the base today."

Feliciano was speechless. He blinked rapidly in shocked disbelief. This was the one day they had left, and Ludwig was leaving immediately. It was too cruel.

"I'm sorry." Ludwig touched Feliciano's tears with cold, gentle fingers. He furrowed his brow. "You are different today, Feliciano. Is everything all right?"

Feliciano blinked away his shock and nodded. He was lying again. Why did he always have to lie… "I just don't want you to go."

"I know." Ludwig ran his hand down Feliciano's cheek, brushing away his tears. Feliciano's eyes fluttered shut as he focused on the feeling.

"Tomorrow, Ludwig. Meet me tomorrow, early."

"I can't tomorrow."

"No, that's right." Feliciano heard his voice coming from somewhere else. "Tomorrow you have a meeting." Ludwig froze briefly, a fleeting expression of surprise crossing his face. "Don't you?" Feliciano continued quickly. "I just assumed."

"Yes. Tomorrow I have a meeting."

"Oh." Feliciano felt lightheaded. Like nothing was real. Like he was watching all this from far away.

"But maybe the day after that."

"Yes. Yes, maybe." Feliciano smiled even though he felt like dying. "It's so unfair, isn't it?"

Ludwig nodded slightly. "It is unfair."

Feliciano clutched tightly to Ludwig's hands, stared intently into his blue eyes. Today they were darker, like the sky. "Stay with me, Ludwig. Stay with me today, and tonight, and tomorrow. Surely your meeting is not that important. Stay here with me, like this, all night." Stay with me forever…

Ludwig raised an eyebrow and smiled slightly. "In this weather? The storm is about to break."

"I don't care."

Ludwig sighed, his smile fading. "I really am sorry. I wish I did not, but I have to go. And you should get inside."

Feliciano's blood was like ice in his veins. He could not stop him. What could he say? He swallowed the grief choking his throat and tried to smile. "Then... then küss mich, Ludwig."

Feliciano could not believe how different a kiss could be. Only yesterday, his first kiss, and he had never felt so happy or right in all his life. Now it was his last and it felt like he was dying. Like he was losing the only thing that had ever really meant anything. Ludwig would leave and Feliciano would fall apart and nothing would ever, ever be able to put him together again. As his lips pressed against Ludwig's, their hands clasped tightly together, Feliciano tried to commit everything to memory. The way Ludwig smelled like grass and leather and always that slightest hint of something he could not describe; the way his skin felt so warm, so much softer than expected; the way he held Feliciano so tightly, but never enough to hurt. Feliciano held him as though it would stop him leaving, as though if he never let him go they could stay like this forever. But then it was over and Feliciano wondered how these fleeting memories were supposed to last a lifetime. When the kiss broke Feliciano's heart broke with it. Ludwig stood and pulled Feliciano to his feet.

"It won't be long, Feliciano. You said you could wait forever. Surely you can wait one more day." Ludwig smiled and it was like a dagger.

"Yes." One more day. Forever. What was the difference? Feliciano felt Ludwig's fingers slip from his and he almost fell. "Auf wiedersehen, sweetheart."

"Ciao, mein bello Feliciano."

It was then, at that awkward mixture of words, at that small heart stopping smile, that Feliciano knew. Beyond any doubt that could ever exist. He would never love anyone the beautiful, agonising, world-changing way that he loved Ludwig.

Then Ludwig turned and began to walk away. The air became unbreathable. Feliciano bent over, gasping, his body wracked by physical pain, his entire life and everything in it falling to pieces around him. He was being crushed, destroyed. The world spun around his head and he couldn't stop it, he couldn't stop Ludwig, he couldn't betray the resistance, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't... Oh God. He couldn't let him go.

"STOP!"

The world stopped spinning. The wind stopped blowing. The sun stopped in the sky. Ludwig turned slowly.

"Don't go." Feliciano whispered it, his eyes on the ground, afraid of the words coming out of his mouth.

"Please don't do this." Ludwig sounded upset, almost frustrated. "It is hard for me too, but you know that I don't have a choice."

Feliciano tried to think of something. Anything. He could not let Ludwig go back to his base. What could he do… what could he say… what did he want… Feliciano slowly looked up. "Let's run away."

"I… what?"

Feliciano made himself move. He ran to Ludwig, grasped his arms, tried to make him understand. "Please. Let's just go, now. We could, you know. We wouldn't have to tell anyone, we could just..." Feliciano barely knew what he was saying and Ludwig probably thought he was ridiculous but he kept going, because he didn't have a choice, because it was their only chance, because above all he meant it. "There must be somewhere..." He broke off and looked towards the mountains.

Ludwig placed a hand on his cheek soothingly. "Feliciano..."

"Switzerland, Ludwig." Feliciano gulped back a sob and leant forward until his forehead touched Ludwig's chest. "Please, please let's go to Switzerland and just leave all this behind us, and then we can be together, and we won't have to worry about the Americans or about the Luftwaffe or��� or… or anyone, or anything…" Feliciano held to Ludwig like he was the only thing in the world that mattered. Right now, he was. "We could do it Ludwig, right now, just you and me!"

Ludwig looked towards the mountains, paused a moment, then closed his eyes regretfully. "And what would we do when we got there? Have you ever even left this village, Feliciano?"

Feliciano couldn't stand this. Ludwig had to listen to him. He had to stop Ludwig from leaving. "No. I would, though. I would for you. There has to be a place, somewhere we can be somewhere else, somewhere it is just you and me…"

"Such a place does not exist. There is no place for us." Ludwig looked up at the oak tree. "Only here." He placed a hand gently on Feliciano's chest. "Only here."

It hurt so much because Feliciano knew it was true. He shook his head anyway. "Don't say that, Ludwig, please. There has to be…"

Ludwig kissed his cheek softly and Feliciano leant into it. "I will meet you the day after tomorrow, and we will talk about this, yes?" Then he pulled out of Feliciano's hold and took a step back. Feliciano immediately grabbed his arm, panic stricken.

"You can't go back to your base!" he cried, his tone edge with terror. Ludwig paused, and his demeanour changed immediately. His shoulders stiffened and eyes narrowed. He was immediately on guard.

"My base? What do you mean by that?"

Feliciano froze. This was it. This was the decision. This was the moment he would betray everything he stood for and fought for and believed in. Feliciano closed his eyes briefly. Nothing else was going to work. He had to tell Ludwig. Feliciano thought of Grandpa Roma, of Lovino, of Italy. And he made the decision. "The Americans are landing tomorrow morning." He said it softly, slowly. The voice did not sound like his own. "They are planning a surprise attack in your airfield to coincide with your meeting. They plan to take down the pilots before they can reach the planes and to destroy as many aircraft as they can. Their objective is to wipe out the German air presence in this area." Feliciano stopped and took a deep breath. "That's why you can't go back to your base, Ludwig."

The silence lasted far too long. Ludwig finally asked quietly, "Is this true?"

Feliciano nodded miserably. "Yes. Yes, I swear to you, I am telling the truth. But you can't tell anyone, please."

Ludwig's shock was evident, but he quickly pulled himself together. "I must leave immediately."

As soon as Ludwig spoke Feliciano realised the mistake he had made. Of course Ludwig would have to tell his unit at the base. Of course he would not stay away and let them be attacked unknowingly. But Feliciano still held to Ludwig's arm desperately. "No! Please!"

"You cannot expect me to keep this information silent, don't you realise, I would be committing treason!"

"Oh God, I didn't think… I didn't know…"

Ludwig suddenly went very still. His furrowed his brow in thoughtful silence then looked slowly, apprehensively back at Feliciano. Feliciano's skin turned cold. "How do you know this?"

Feliciano blinked up at Ludwig with panicked eyes. "Don't ask me that."

Ludwig's eyes narrowed suspiciously, his expression puzzled and wary. He pulled his arm from Feliciano's grip. "And you knew about the meeting. How could you possibly know about our meeting tomorrow? How could you get this information?" Feliciano's breath came faster. He tried frantically to think of a way out of this situation. He couldn't. "I said, how did you get this information?" Ludwig's voice grew louder and Feliciano gulped back his rising fear.

"I… I can't tell you," Feliciano replied in a very small voice.

"You have to tell me, Feliciano." Ludwig sounded uneasy, almost scared.

"Please! Don't make me say it! I only told you because I don't want you to be hurt, but if they knew I'd told you, if you told anyone else, it would ruin the whole mission…" Feliciano cut off, horrified, hearing the words as though someone else had spoken them. He choked back a gasp and shrunk back.

"Your mission? But what…" Ludwig froze for a moment. Something seemed to click in his mind. He turned white with a look of horrified disbelief. "You… you must be… you are Resistenza!"

Feliciano exhaled slowly. There was no use lying. He did not want to lie. He nodded helplessly.

"Of course. The other day, your reaction to those men in the square..." Ludwig's eyes flashed as he appeared to run through his memories. "And that's why you were in the German café. And your camera, your white flag." Ludwig's expression was bewildered, stunned. "You're part of the resistance."

"Yes." Feliciano could feel the first drops of rain starting to fall. He closed his eyes, his chest tightening painfully.

"All this time. All this... you never meant any of it." Ludwig's voice was cold and bitter.

Feliciano's eyes flew open. An icy shock ran down his spine. "What? Ludwig, no..."

"How could I be so stupid. That's what you've been doing. It all makes sense now. All those questions you kept asking. Mein Gott, all the things I told you! Getting close to me, earning my trust…"

This wasn't happening. This could not be happening like this. "No! You have to believe…"

"All the time gathering information…"

"No! I swear... please, it was never like that!" Heavy drops of rain fell on Feliciano's cheeks and mixed with the tears he could no longer hold back.

"All in order to betray me!" Ludwig almost shouted the words. Feliciano flinched.

"But, but no! Don't you see Ludwig, I'm trying to warn you, please listen…"

"Warn me? You're trying to trick me! I know how your resistance works, Italian!" The way Ludwig spat the word was like a dagger through the heart. Feliciano almost staggered backwards. "You'll do anything to deceive us." Ludwig almost gasped for breath as a deep spasm of hurt crossed his face. "Anything."

Feliciano's mind went numb with disbelief. Nothing was real. It was his worst fear come true: Ludwig thought he was an enemy. Thought he had been working against him. And if Ludwig did not believe him about the attack… "Ludwig, listen to me, they are going to attack tomorrow, please believe me…"

"Why should I believe you? You've been lying to me this whole time. Even this... of course... you are giving me incorrect information, trying to make me believe it."

Feliciano quickly gathered himself, clenched his fists, and forced himself to deliver his next words evenly. "Ludwig, please listen. Hate me, never see me again, tell your superiors about the attack or not, I don't care. But please, Ludwig. I am begging you. PLEASE don't be at your base tomorrow morning!"

Ludwig shook the rain from his eyes angrily, raised a hand to his head, almost disoriented. His face twisted in anguished fury. He almost stumbled backwards as he spat his next words. "Stop lying, Italian! I could have you shot, do you understand?"

Feliciano gasped painfully and clutched at his chest, stunned beyond all reason at the words. He could only whisper in response. "Why are you saying this?"

Ludwig wasn't listening. His eyes were wild with rage, with grief. "You, and your brother, and your grandfather… I could march you all into the town square and have you shot for treason!"

Feliciano felt the breath knocked from him, a wave of pure terror shocking him still. "Don't hurt Lovino and Grandpa." Feliciano tried to sound threatening but knew his shaking voice just sounded terrified. And more than anything he was just devastated that Ludwig could say such things.

Ludwig's eyes softened. They seemed suddenly hollow. He took a step backwards, his gaze dropping unfocused, unseeing, to the ground. "I should have guessed. Should have known. Why else would you spend your days with me? Why else would an Italian waste his time on a German?"

Feliciano wanted to scream that it was because he loved Ludwig. Because he'd never loved anyone like him before, because all he had ever wanted from the moment he'd first seen Ludwig standing in the sun and looking down at him with those piercing blue eyes was to hold him, to be with him, to never let him go. But Feliciano could not answer the question. He could not form the words. He could barely breathe through his tears. No. It was all he could think, over and over, too distraught to feel ashamed of his wracking sobs. No. No, don't think this… no, don't leave me… no, no, no… He managed to whisper it finally. "No."

Uncertainty flickered in Ludwig's eyes. He looked briefly unsure, conflicted. But then he closed his eyes and turned his head. All traces of anger were gone from his face. He just looked devastated. He took another step backwards. "Leave, Italian. Immediately. You are a traitor and an enemy. Never come near me again." Then he turned away.

Feliciano felt sick from the pain. He could not draw enough air into his lungs, could not think through the terror crowding his mind, could not hear past the blood rushing in his ears. And Ludwig just kept walking away.

Feliciano felt himself breaking apart. He shook his head, gasped for air, did not know what to do. Fear threatened to engulf him. Panic started to set in. Not like this, his mind kept screaming. Not like this. He reached out for Ludwig desperately, forced himself to speak. "Ludwig, please!" He screamed. "PLEASE!"

But this time, Ludwig did not turn back. The pain in his chest forced Feliciano to his knees.

Thunder crashed overhead. Rain poured in torrents as the black skies finally opened.

Feliciano did not notice.

.

Next Chapter

Disclaimer: This story belongs to George deValier. Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya. I own nothing.

[ranawaytothedas]

WIP Weds!

farI was tagged by the wonderful @faerieavalon

I am going to tag, @sasshole-for-rent , @lyrium-lavellan , @cornfedcryptid

I have two little things I am working on and have been for a couple weeks. 

Also Keep in mind these are edited or possibly even spell checked yet O.O

1. Cullen/Maeve - Oneshot - “A Letter”  - this is actually smut.... just over-glorified smut... 

Maeve’s guilt over the letter ate at her as she watch Cullen read over several passages multiple times. She assumed they were the harsher portions of the letter, and Maeve wasn’t wrong. It was unfair of her sister to assume so much about Cullen’s character after so long. Not giving any thought to how much people can and do change over the course of a decade. Slowly, Maeve reached her hand over and placed it on his arm. “She doesn’t know why you left the Templars, that you are a different man than the boy they found in the tower…” Her tone was soft, gentle and full of love as she spoke. She knew Cullen was a good man. He made bad choices, had horrible things happen to him. Yet he never used them to excuse his behavior. When ever they discussed his past, he owned his faults. It was Maeve who often tried to make excuses for him and it was something he would never allow. Always reminding her that he had free will, that no one forced him into anything.  

For a man who held himself in such low esteem, seeing someone else share the same opinion of him was far mor jarring that he expected. He had said horrible things to Morrigan. Accused of her trying to manipulate him when she had only bening trying to help him. She has every reason to feel this way, I am the monster she thinks me to be. Perhaps, all this needs to end.  As he was drawing the conclusion he glanced back at Maeve. Her face, soft and sweet. Her eyes filled with love and concern as she gazed up at him reminded him why it couldn’t. No one has looked at me like that. She loves me, Maker, why does she love me? I would die a thousand times to spare her life. Their relationship wouldn’t end, it couldn’t. Maeve was his reason for waking up each day, she was his hope for a life after all this. He wasn’t going to let her go because he was afraid, that was not the man she saw when she looked at him. Cullen held up the letter and let out a nervous laugh. “She is going to kill me..” 

“No… that’s not her way…” Maeve corrected quickly. “She may try to turn you into a rat but I promise you I won’t let her get that far.” Clearing her throat Maeve looked at her feet. “Alistair… well, he may kill you. He was with the Wardens that passed through Kirkwall during the start of the Rebellion. He had very strong opinions about how the Templars behaved. I know that you did not do anything horrible to Mages yourself, but you were Knight-Captain. He will hold you responsible. ” She muttered her eyes peering up at Cullen’s face at it drained of all it’s color. Everyone knew of the great AlistairTheron, who should have been King of Ferelden and was a fabled hero of the fifth blight. He was the last man Cullen would want to go toe to toe with over his relationship with Maeve. “But he adores me, like a little sister. I can likely talk sense into him… more than likely.” Her nervousness over the whole situation was apparent in how her voice wavier 

Cullen laughed nervously again as he turned around to face his desk. “Wonderful… oh Maker…” He exclaimed as he looked at the letter again. “I couldn’t just find a nice, uncomplicated girl… you know a baker perhaps…” He mused shaking his head, silently scolding himself for even momentarily wishing he hadn’t met Maeve. He set the letter on his desk and turned around to see the pained look on her face. His words had cut her deeper than he expected and his heart sank as he saw tears well in the corner of her eyes. 

“I am so sorry, Cullen…” She started shaking her head as she brought her hands to her mouth. He was right. He would have been infinitely better off with anyone but her. As she looked away she cursed herself for being too selfish, too much of that foolish child that Morrigan always called, to see it till he pointed it out. Her breath caught in her throat as she went to speak. Her golden eyes closed as she choked out. “I ruined everything.” Her mother’s harsh words, faded and jumbled in her memory called out to her. Nothing but a mistake. She called out harshly. You have ruined all my plans Maeve, you have cost me everything! Of all my ungrateful daughter you are the worst! Her mother was not what most would have called kind, Morrigan has shielded her from most but there were hazy memories that still cropped up any time that Maeve was feeling particularly hard on herself. Tears started to roll down her cheeks as muttered. “Mother was right…” 

2. Solas/Tamaris - Oneshot - “His Heart” - Inspired by the art that @pookyhuntress did for my loves that you can find.... here

And the whole world changed…

Solas’s words echoed in Tamaris’s mind as she stood over a large, plush bed with one tiny figure curled into a ball in the middle. Her faced was nuzzled against the soft pale yellow wool of her favorite blanket. Clutched tightly in her arms, a small pink Nug. Tamaris felt blessed she remembered in the frantic moment to grab her daughter’s favorite things because she knew there was going to be no turning back when she saw Abelas darkening her door.  The Council had not been going well and Solas always had interesting timing. 

Tamaris would have preferred not to have had the experience be so traumatic for Shivana. It was never going to be easy, leaving everything she knew. Leaving, Cullen. Shivana sobbed, so loudly they nearly got caught as they snuck back threw the Eluvian. It wasn’t until Solas had taken her from Tamaris’s arms did the child stop crying, for the moment. Change overwhelmed Shivana, who had spent most of her life in the relative confinement of Skyhold. In a few short weeks, she had traveled across a long distance, stayed in a grand place and now was someplace that was not real, but wasn’t a dream either. Solas said it was the safest place for them to be, though he had yet to explain just where they were. 

He had yet to explain quite a number of things, in fact. 

Solas had helped her settle into his rooms, or what Tamaris assumed were his rooms in the hidden estate that he did explain was the base of all his operations. Abelas and some of the other sentinels appeared to live there as well, though Solas assured her they would leave her and Shivana alone. He spent a little time helping Tamaris settle Shivana before Abelas came to tell him he was needed. Tamaris in the moment had a great deal of sympathy for Dorian and dealing with the same intrusions for Mathras. She was also reminded that her brother and Dorian were likely beside themselves, likely being to mount some half-cocked war to try and rescue her.

[mybiasisexo]

60 & 64 with Sehun. Please & thank you ✨

DRABBLE GAME 🌙

MASTERLIST

(damn this was long as hell and now i lowkey want to continue it :/)

You and Sehun had been dating for three months and everything was perfect. You hadn’t known each other for very long before you started dating—probably five months or so—but the moment you first locked eyes with him you knew he was the only one you wanted to be with for the rest of your life.

Everything with him was natural. He was beautiful, caring, and kind of nerdy, but in an endearing way. He made you smile and feel important and valid. He viewed life in such a way that made you think anything was possible.

You were undoubtedly falling in love with him.

That day started off like any other. He had been mentioning for days that he had something important to share and you could tell it was, being how reluctant he appeared about the whole ordeal. His news seemed to be burdening him and it made you nervous. Was he going to break up with you? Was there somebody else? Was he moving across the country? You pondered over all the possibilities until it gave you a migraine.

Yet, nothing prepared you for what he did confess.

You played nonchalant, saying it was fine and you were all right, even though it was obvious to the both of you how unsettled you were. You asked to go home immediately after, claiming to not feel so good and ignored the pout that sprouted from his lips, ignored the way his eyes dimmed with disappointment.

All you knew was that you needed some space, some time to wrap your head around the bombshell your boyfriend had dropped.

So you did the only thing you could think to do.

You avoided him.

For two days you kept your distance, swallowing down the guilt that grew when he stood still in shock at you ignoring his calls in the hall of your school. You felt like an asshole, leaving him hanging like that, but what else were you suppose to do? Everything was different. He was different and it made you anxious.

On the third day of this game, you found yourself in the neighborhood park, swinging limply from a swing, staring up at the few stars you could see within the city. The moon wasn’t full, but she was close, exposing her belly with the promise of rebirth.

You shivered.

“Cold?” You spun your head around to the direction you heard the voice, fear jolting your adrenaline. Noticing it’s Sehun, the fear fades only faintly.

Shock takes over. Although you hadn’t heard anyone approaching, he stood only a couple feet away. His dark eyes wandered your face as if he hadn’t seen it in years, his own stoic. He was known for keeping his feelings to himself unless he felt comfortable enough around the person. You felt guilty because earlier that week you were considered one of those people.

You only swallowed as a reply to his question, watching him intently as he made his way over to the swing beside you. Silence filled the air and it wasn’t a comfortable one. You were planning an escape, but was stuck to your seat from the longing that punctured your heart from his close proximity.

Despite everything, you missed him like crazy.

“Are you going to talk to me?” He asked, voice hard and bitter. “Or are you too scared?”

You bit your lip, wondering how to reply. Yes, you were scared and you had no intentions of talking to him ever again. But, you knew how unfair that was to him. He deserved to know the truth, to know how you were feeling inside.

��I’m sorry,” you finally uttered, clutching onto the chains holding you up so tightly your knuckles turned white.

He scoffed. “Sorry for what? Abandoning me after I told you my biggest secret? Sorry for treating me like a pariah? I trusted you. I thought what we had was real enough to withstand this. I thought you would be different then the others, but I guess not.”

His words were biting, but deserving. You knew that. Yet, they also pissed you off, putting you on the defensive.

“How else am I supposed to react to the fact that my boyfriend is a werewolf?”

Saying the word out loud caused you both to pause, your shivering practically doubling.

Sehun took in your shaking frame before he was on his feet, running obnormally fast to his house. You watched him, flabbergasted that he would just leave after that, but he’s returning before you can blink, an object in his hands.

Once in front of you, he held it out as an offering. “Here, take my blanket.”

You stared at it for a moment before hesitantly grabbing it, wrapping it around you shoulders gratefully.

He rejoined you, staring up at the moon almost dotingly.

“What happens?” You asked carefully. “When the moon is full.”

Head still tilted upwards, he lulled it to the side and you nearly gasp. His eyes were black and glittery, almost alien and although it frightened you, it made him appear even more beautiful.

“We shift,” he answered.

“We?”

“My brothers. My pack mates.” He returned his gaze back to the moon. “We go deep into the forest and shift to our animal form, enjoying the gift Mother Moon has bestowed upon us.”

“Do you see it as a gift?” You questioned, curiosity getting the best of you.

He shrugged. “Most of the time I do.”

“I really am sorry.” You try again. “I just didn’t really know how to wrap my head around it. I mean, werewolves are a thing of fiction. They aren’t real.”

“Yet, here I am,” he said, shrugging again.

“Exactly. So you have to understand how this news would make me react.”

He shook his head angrily, a humorless smile on his lips.

“But!” You start quickly before you lose him for good. “But, I’m warming up to the idea. I’m coming to terms with it. If you’re a werewolf, then you’re a werewolf. You can teach me everything about who you are, because I want to know. Every facet that is you, I want to know. I still want to be a part of your life, even if you only want to be friends now.”

“I can never be just your friend,” Sehun admitted adamantly, giving you his undivided attention. “If you’re willing to accept me for who I am, then I am yours.”

He got up and stood in front of you, your breath caught at the sight of the moonlight glowing behind him like a pure aura.

“Okay,” was all you were able to whisper before his lips were on yours.