#came out first but because of the alphabet it makes it look like summer days summer nights is older which is false though I guess in som | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

putbleachonit · 2 years

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Part One; “I won’t be a repeat victim.”

This is the beginning of my story and experience with DV. For safety and protection, I’ve changed names of the people in this story.

I have had my amount of trauma in my life. Losing grandparents as early as 10 years old. An aunt at 11 years old. Being relocated to a different city across the entire country at 12 years old. Being the new kid with a weird accent. Bullying. Trying to fit in. Acting out. Experimenting with alcohol and drugs far too early. Becoming a bully myself. Suffer verbal abuse at home. Never really having a boyfriend in high school, I had sex with guys thinking they would like me for it. It never really hit me that they were using me until long after high school. My first experience with DV started young. Studies show often times, victims of DV have a repeat pattern. I had my first experience young, and didn’t experience it again until my relationship with prisoner. I thought I had beat the odds. No repeat victim here.

I became a victim of DV for the first time when I was 19 and he was 21. Let’s call him Kyle. It was only 6 months, but he managed to isolate me from my family, friends, and even talked me into going from full time employment to part time. I still to this day have no idea how I let this happen to me… but it did. Kyle drank a lot, he didn’t have a steady job, and whatever money he did have, he spent it on alcohol or drugs. The pattern of abuse started minimal.. asking to go through my phone, questioning if I was 5 minutes late coming home from work. But almost overnight, it seemed, he became more and more abusive. Consistently accusing me of cheating on him. Picked fights with me if I wanted to see my parents. I remember specially one time I was “allowed” to go see my parents, and I was going through summer clothes at their house…I found a pair of yellow short shorts and decided to wear them back home (to Kyle’s house where he had forceable moved me in). I remember thinking “these would be a treat for my boyfriend”, wondering if he would look at me and throw compliments my way. Tell me I looked beautiful. I got back to his house after maybe 2 hours and instead of telling me how pretty I looked, the minute he laid eyes on me they narrowed and he said “who the fuck are you wearing those for?” I remember being instantly stunned and said “uhhh… for you, silly.” He brushed it off and accused me of wearing them for “some douchebags” then gave me the silent treatment for the rest of the night. I couldn’t believe it. I did so many little things for this man. Cooked him breakfast every morning, supper every night. Cleaned. Did laundry. I did everything, and he’s giving me the silent treatment for wearing a pair of shorts?

Another time, Kyle and our other roommate had been drinking heavily, and I was in bed because I had to work the next morning. Kyle was texting me from the living room, some nonsense about me not respecting him.. I was also texting a friend named Colin, who didn’t even live in the same country. He lived in the States and was about to head off to sea because he had enrolled in the Navy. I was talking to him about how hard of a time I was having with Kyle, and how sad he made me. I didn’t reply to Kyle’s text in a timely manner, I guess, and Kyle came storming into our room. Yelling, screaming, punching the closet door. He took my phone and saw I was texting Colin, completely lost his shit and threw my phone against the wall, smashing it. He was belligerent, pacing back and forth, talking about how he knows people in 81 (Canadian people will understand this.. 8th letter of the alphabet and 1st letter of the alphabet.) and how all he had to do was call someone and I would be taken care of. This was the first time I was truly scared of him. He wasn’t making sense, I didn’t recognize him. The next morning i packed up a few things and snuck out while he was still passed out from drinking. I went to my parents house and stayed there for a few days.

Things progressed after this night quickly. I had an old iphone at my parents that didn’t have a working home button, but I was able to download the app that creates a home button somewhere on your screen. I got a new SIM card and started texting some friends, frantically apologizing for being so distant and trying to mend some hurt feelings. Once Kyle woke up from being passed out drunk, he took to blowing up my phone. Text after text after text, multiple phone calls in a row. Crying, begging me to forgive him. Using alcohol as an excuse for being so incredibly hurtful to me the night before. I wanted out, and expressed this to him. I told him I would be by his house later that afternoon to collect my gatherings. I showed around 430PM that day… when I showed up, he had 4 girls on my couch that I paid for, 3 guys, and a shit ton of alcohol. He decided he wanted to have a party. I walked through the living room and he was staring daggers at me. I instantly started to cry, how could he do this? Why can’t he be an adult about this and leave this amicably? I was in our bedroom, packing up my clothes and other personal things, and he came in. He told me he kicked everyone out and wanted to talk. I can still remember the smell of alcohol on his breath. He was crying. Begging me to stay. I fought through my tears and told him no, this isn’t what I signed up for. He became enraged again, and grabbed my wrists, screaming in my face, calling me a whore, a slut, useless, ugly, fat. Anything to tear me down. I screamed “YOU ARE HURTING ME”, hoping his roommate on the other side of the house would hear me over his music. Kyle let go of my wrists, staring at me with so much hate in his soul. I grabbed a bag I had packed and turned to leave the room.

I walked through the kitchen and saw a 4lt jug of milk on the counter, that I had purchased the day before for Kyle’s ridiculously large bowls of cereal when he was stoned. By this point I was by the kitchen table, and he came tearing through the kitchen, grabbed that jug of milk and threw it at me. It hit my right shoulder and then broke open all over the kitchen floor. I screamed “what the fuck is your problem?!” And I will never forget the expression on his face. His eyes were dark. His nostrils were flared. His chest was puffed. Before I could even react, he came charging at me like a fucking football player. He tackled me to the ground. With his force and weight, we ended up in the archway to the living room and main entrance. His roommates room was next to the main entrance.

He had me pinned on the floor. Straddling me, and he punched me in the mouth. My lip started to bleed, my mouth filling with the taste of copper. And without hesitation, he put both of his hands around my throat and started choking me. I had my keys in my left hand and I was trying to jab him in the arm with them to lose his grip. He saw this, let his grip on my throat go and pinned my hands against my chest with one hand. He grabbed the keys out of my hand, and dug them in my left wrist. “Oh you want to fucking stab me with keys?!” He screamed. The key punctured and I screamed with everything I had. I was kicking my legs. Trying to move my elbows. Squirming to get him off of me. Blood running down my chin from my now busted lip, his roommate finally came out of his room, and he said “kyle man what the fuck are you doing?!” When Kyle heard his roommates voice he instantly let go of my wrists, got off of me, and left the house in a rush. He had been caught finally. Someone witnessed how reckless he is.

His roommate just stood there in complete shock, looking down at me on the floor with blood running down my neck from my lip, blood dripping down my arm from the key puncture. And he just stood there. Staring. It must have been a solid minute before he choked out “what the hell did he do to you?”

#writing #my story #survivor #stopdomesticviolence #may be triggering

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omegaplus · 2 years

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# 4,110

Captured Tracks, 2022.

What makes Omega WUSB great is how we create tributes as part of what we play on air. They allow us to get to know our favorite labels better and gives our listeners a nicer surprise from our usual spinning-wheel craziness. Most of them we previously featured are from New York City such as Sacred Bones, Hospital Productions, Wharf Cat, and Mexican Summer. Just recently, Captured Tracks joined that list of labels that deserved it. Do a little due diligence (say that three times fast) and you’ll see that Mike Sniper has had his hands in plenty of things. He owns the umbrella Omnian Group, does illustration for other artists, made music as Blank Dogs, and was part of other bands, too. And he’s owned a couple of record stores, too. Sideman Records was up for a couple of years until the y recently closed down, but his other store named after his Captured Tracks label, is still up. That’s good because I’ve been meaning to visit.

After Amityville’s High Fidelity wiped me out like no other (two visits cost me $893.00 in total), I had one more stop I was planning to visit and call it quits. That was Innersleeve Records until I took a better look at their sticker prices posted on social media. Right then and there I declared my island-wide record store victory tour finally over and any city-wide visit to other stores were treated as “bonus rounds”, which two visits to Academy’s Brooklyn and Manhattan locations already counted. Captured Tracks just posted some nice pics- of their stock and I’ve been meaning to go, so let’s give a proper end to a great expensive run.

I arrived at the Central Islip station, sweltering in the low 80’s and as bright as bright can be. The train took off westbound to Penn Station for a 75-minute ride. I told myself it was going to be a great day. When I did, I noticed something somewhat disappointing. Nothing said there was going to be pending thunderstorms for the next few days, but here they come as I looked to my right. Surely enough daylight went dark and it came down hard from Jamaica all the way to Penn Station. I didn’t come above and out to 34th Street to experience it because I went under to catch the ‘E’ line. Everyone waiting for the alphabet lines were baking and drenched in sweat from all the unbearable post-rain humidity filling the platforms beneath. Thank the Lord for air-conditioned transit. I got off at 23rd and Court Square to the ‘G’ and finally came up at the Greenpoint Ave. stop. It was all clear, as if the horrible weather never happened. You wouldn’t even noticed, either.

Down Manhattan Ave., I turn left on Calyer St. and look for #195. Where the hell is it? I look up and there was the wooden Captured Tracks sign nailed above the window. I wouldn’t have realized that I walked past it as it was perfectly blended in the residential buildings. How cute. I walk up the stairs only to be confronted by a closed door and push-button lock. It can’t fucking be. I look below and there was a flight of concrete steps leading to the basement entrance. Immediately I felt an amazing spell, as if I just discovered a well-hidden secret that almost no one knew. I never entered a music-store this way. That’s what made it magical.

I walk through the front door to find not that many people lurking for new finds. There were only three staffers: one behind the counter checking their Discogs store online, another restocking the vinyl bins, and the last sitting behind the desk in the back corner observing Lord knows what. None of them were Mike Sniper. I walk around the narrow space which was mostly nice and neatly organized; a cellar space adorned with chipped paint on the walls, pipes and valves that would make Super Mario and Luigi gladly pay their 100 coins a month each to live in. I reminded myself why I was here in the first place: to see if their selection matches that of what their label offered.

Captured Tracks were the kings of organization. Everything organized by genre, label, and artist name. Sure, they had the standard classic rock, psych-, and metal LPs. But walk around and they had a full selection of jazz, soul, and R&B to start. They carried several bins of classic disco and dance classified right down to the label. Salsoul, Motown, Casablanca - they weren’t handwritten but instead their tabs and dividers were logo’ed. Want classic motion picture soundtracks from the Eighties-on backward? Pre-war jazz and vocals? Reggae and Bollywood? Greek, Israeli, Brazilian, French, Italian, and Latin artists? They specialize what the other stores don’t. Almost nothing where it shouldn’t be.

First order of business was the cassette section nailed right next to the entrance. They had way less on the shelves than they posted and nothing got to me. In the middle of the store were…eight-tracks? Fifteen of them were posted on a board in the middle of the store. That’s all they had. If I had a player, then no doubt I would be even consider spending $30.00 for either Lonnie Liston Smith’s Expansions and Roy Ayers’ Red Black And Green for $35.00. Adjacent to them were a small pot of CDs, maybe no more that a hundred. So what did I say about how hard it was finding Suicide albums? For $7.00 I was able to get Alan Vega’s Mutator. What tasteless muppet who knows nothing about art and culture sold his copy back to the store? Which other labelmate of his was also in the pot? Marissa Nadler, of course. Her latest full-length The Path Of The Clouds cost $12.00, the highest-priced purchase of the day.

No record-store excursion would be complete without getting a crack at some jazz and fusion. Same to be said about what Roy Ayers records they had. Still no A Tear To A Smile, but instead Let’s Do It sitting in which I already had. But, going across I did find plenty familiar artists with albums I never seen before in the wild from Ron Carter, Ramsay Lewis, Jeff Lorber Fusion, Herbie Mann, and Hank Crawford. I had a chance to pick up two Kool & The Gang records: Wild And Peaceful and The Force. I held off because off of Wild And Peaceful there was “Hollywood Swingin’” and “Jungle Boogie”, and I wouldn’t have been happy if the entire record went in that direction. The Force reminded me that I wasn’t familiar with -The Gang aside from those two, “Summer Madness”, and Love And Understanding. Going a little bit to the right to Hubert Laws’ divider and I find found it: How To Beat The High Cost Of Living with Earl Klugh. That was a huge personal win for me. That motion-picture soundtrack was part of last year’s impeccable, memorable, golden Spring.

Captured Tracks had a small section for hip-hop / rap LPs and 12” singles. Nothing piqued my interest as I wouldn’t spent more than a few dollars on a piece of wax with one or two songs. Their selection of those artists jumped around ranging from Eighties mainstays to Nineties unknowns. The only thing I took with me from those bins was Kool Moe Dee’s Knowledge Is King and that was it.

I figured to give the soul bins a shot and I win another Blackbyrds record, a tattered copy of Bootsy Collins Rubber Band, and The Olympic Runners’ Don’t Let Up - one which would sound so familiar if you’re a Planet Asia & Talib Kweli fan.

Across from the front desk were two stations with four bins each of new arrivals with lots of rare, unknown, and obscure jazz, rock, soul, and soundtracks. Of the fifteen minutes it took me to thumb through it all, the only thing I saw of interest was Blank Stare’s self-titled. It may have been their only hardcore / punk title in the entire store Captured Tracks had as they weren’t known to carry much of it. During that time of lurking through their new arrivals did the staff bring up how much of a psychotic asshole Drew Carey was in real life, and speculated if his Hollywood personality was the reason why his then-wife took her own life. Their words, not mine.

But do give them lots of points as possible for having a straight, organized, and in-reach section of 45’s and 7” records (take that, High Fidelity!). I counted at least 50 categorized white boxes labeled with jukebox hits, punk, new-wave, jazz, country, rock, decades, and more. They had more than enough of reggae and soul with new arrivals of 45’s up for grabs as well with dedicated boxes of legendary artists (Elvis) and others divided and categorized. Good thing I’m still thirsty for Eighties’ hits from my Atari childhood and I bought plenty of them. Simple Minds, Janet Jackson, Kim Carnes, Thomspon Twins. No shame here, and neither should anyone feel it when they practice self-care.

Displayed were many top-dollar records on the wall and over the bins. Those carried the heaviest prices. A copy of Fear’s debut clocked in for $30.00 and The Dictators Go Girl Crazy goes for $40.00. Buzzcocks’ In A Different Kitchen and Sex Pistols’ Never Mind The Bullocks were stickered for $45.00. The Smiths’ The Queen Is Dead went for $50.00 and their self-titled for $55.00. The 7” records on the wall were just a criminal. $25.00 got you Merzbow & Gore Beyond Necropsy’s Rectal Grinder on blue vinyl. Another blue (transparent) 7” was posted which was KRS-One’s “Sound Of The Police” remix which went for $50.00 ($70.00 on Discogs at the time of posting). Two Pharcyde singles were also pinned to the wall: “Otha Fish” sold for $25.00 while “Passin’ Me By” was asking for $60.00. For a piece of wax? That’s insanity, but Brooklyn’s residents need to pony up that rent money, don’t they?

On the floor were many crates of $3.00 records which never occurred to me to burrow through, and they had tons of shelves of LPs under the bins but were marked ‘not for sale’. Might be for the better. It would’ve eaten up another hour-and-a-half of my time and maybe more of my wallet. On the other side was the usual classic rock every store needs to sell in order to stay in business. The most amusing? All the Eric Clapton records were under the ‘Craptonia’ section. (Either they hate his anti-masking stance or have a thing with loved ones falling to their deaths.) I looked through all I could and something didn’t add up: where were all those indie and post-punk / d.i.y. I was looking forward to find? I didn’t see any. I assumed Captured Tracks would carry that kind of stuff because they have Mac Demarco, Beach Fossils, DIIV, Molly Burch, and Wild Nothing on their label. And they’re from Brooklyn. How could they not have stuff like Yard Act’s debut release, Special Interest, Gong Gong Gong, Guerilla Toss, or anything from Wharf Cat? Which was why I had a field day at Rough Trade (before moving out of Williamsburg) and both of Academy’s locations. But at least they had a Thee Oh Sees record somewhere. That qualifies, right?

I’m about five minutes away from declaring an end to this year’s record-store victory tour. I took my pile of finds to the front counter to be added up. I asked the guy with the blonde hair and glasses if those records marked ‘not for sale’ were really off-limits. He explained that they were Discogs stock for the store and need to keep tabs on their stock, which was fine by me. Pain alleviated. He gave me a couple of titles for free and everything came out to $118.00 including New York State (vampire) tax. Good thing I brought two totes with me because I wasn’t taking any chances having my purchase melt in this 90* July heat. Not happening now, not happening ever. I thanked him for everything, walked upstairs and out on Calyer St. with my stash to a bright, clear, glorious Greenpoint sky.

**********

It’s over. It’s finally over. With me leaving Captured Tracks, the record-store victory tour has come to an official close. I did all that I wanted to do and then more. Almost two months of intensive free-spending without worry and practicing self-care and individualism to the fullest. I was the sun which everything else revolved around - the ventures to Queens and Brooklyn, Easter with my Italian Coney Island family, Roman connections, an ambitious Summer broadcasting season at WUSB, the spirit of Sacred Bones’ 15th Anniversary showcase permanently swirling around me, visits to the retro video arcade down the road from me, seeing friends from the Brentwood era, dinner in Calverton, and a small but all-essential conversation with my #1 favorite ginger. I’ve been spinning up some good spaces on the wheel with no signs of losing.

While walking up to Manhattan Ave. to catch the ‘G’ line, I noticed that a curious point of interest had its doors open. That place was Sunshine Laundromat, a locale I’ve read all about but been meaning to visit for the longest time. It’s an actual laundromat with a concealed backdoor that opens up to reveal a backroom pinball arcade. I never noticed it being there until now but finally I found it! It was only 5:45PM and I had all the time in the world to spare. So why not go in? I have nothing to lose.

I enter the laundromat and I slowly look around. It’s a very narrow space to maneuver around with only two or three pinball tables present and a wall of built-in washing machines and dryers. I notice a lady in the back sorting out a mound of clothes. Behind her is that door that leads to (multiball) paradise. I peer right behind her as she looks up and notices me.

“Hi! How can I help you?” she greets me with a smile. I told her that with genuine interest that I read about the laundromat and asked her if the backroom is open. She told me that they’re under renovations but also are awaiting to have their permit approved by the city. She also said that most likely if all goes to plan, then the arcade will re-open for business in a few weeks. It was alleviating news that made me feel good on the inside and made me walk out a more hopeful being.

It was a mood experiencing two crowded subway cars sharing cramped space with everyone imaginable. It wasn’t an eternal wait for the Central Islip line to arrive which the big ride out east was symbolic in itself. Not many people boarded the car I was riding. I sat facing away in the opposite direction. The 7PM sun in its intense beaming yellow glory was all alone in the sky with no clouds or miserable humidity to share it with. Both The Offset: Spectacles followed by Daniel Johnston’s “In A Lifetime” play along with the air conditioner’s cold snap on the way home as I think about what August and September will have in store for me.

The wheel landed on ‘DOUBLE YOUR MONEY’. I told myself it was going to be a great day. And I was right.

Jon Lucien: Premonition LP

Ron Carter: Peg Leg LP

Ramsey Lewis: Love Notes LP

Hubert Laws & Earl Klugh: How To Beat The High Cost Of Living LP

Weather Report: Tale Spinnin’ LP

Olympic Runners: Don’t Let Up LP

Bootsy’s Rubber Band: Stretchin’ It Out In… LP

Jeff Lorber Fusion, The: self-titled LP

Blackbyrds: Unfinished Business LP

Herbie Mann: Sunbelt LP

Hank Crawford: Cajun Sunrise LP

Kool Moe Dee: Knowledge Is King LP

Blank Stare: self-titled LP

Police, The: “Every Breath You Take” 7”

Simple Minds: “Don’t You Forget About Me” 7”

Bangles, The: “In Your Room” 7”

Thompson Twins: “Hold Me Now” 7”

Janet Jackson: “Let’s Wait A While” 7”

Kim Carnes: “Bette Davis Eyes” b/w “Miss You Tonight” 7”

Alan Vega: Mutator CD

Marissa Nadler: The Path Of The Clouds CD

#personal #NYC #New York City #BK #Brooklyn #records #vinyl #omega #music #mixtapes #reviews #playlists #jazz #fusion #funk #punk #pop #synthpop #hip-hop #rap #golden era

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perplexedflower · 11 months

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Debito Fluff Alphabet - [D]reams

Fandom: La storia della Arcana Famiglia.

Category: F/M.

Relationship: Debito x Female Reader.

Type: Fluff Alphabet.

D) Dreams: How he pictures his future with you.

~~~~~~~~~~

If he had to be honest with you, Debito would confess he hasn't given the future of your relationship much thought: of course, he cares deeply about you and about your couple, but he is not the type to daydream and think of the future too intensely. He lives in the moment, enjoying every minute of every day, and he enjoys them with you by his side. He takes things as they come and go, without looking into them too much, and he is content enough to live his life this way. This does not mean he doesn't value your relationship, or that he sees it as a game, as yet another one of his adventures: it matters very much to him, and he always tries his best to make your couple flourish. He loves you very much, with all his heart, and so he obviously wishes for the two of you to remain together, for as long as possible, and he would be delighted to go through life with you. He may not bring up the subject a lot, but he would like to build a family with you, to raise children with you, and live with you the life you deserve: a happy, fulfilled life. But again, these are not thoughts that cross his mind often, for he rather prefers enjoying the present with you and ridding his brain of possible insecurities. Because yes, he may not let them show, or does so very rarely, but he does question himself on his future with you, every now and then: what if you no longer loved him? What if you came to fall in love with another man? What if you were to leave him tomorrow, first thing in the morning, out of the blue? What if this fairytale romance was suddenly shattered? He never lets you know of all the questions that swirl inside his mind, but if he were to do so, you would reassure and comfort him by assuring him that no such things would ever happen, for you love him too much. And he may not be aware of it, but deep down, you too wish to spend the rest of your days with him, to love him for as long as life will allow it.

Mini Scene

The room was quiet: neither Debito nor I spoke a word, both of us remained silent as we lay in the arms of one another. That afternoon, the two of us had come to his room at the manor to unwind and cuddle together, and so we were lying down on his bed, on top of the sheets. The birds were singing outside his window, which let in rays of sunshine, illuminating the room and warming the atmosphere further.

Among the silence our breaths echoed and the shuffling sounds of our bodies against each other could also occasionally be heard. With Debito's hands caressing my arms, the soft fabric of his gloves rubbing my skin, I looked through his window at the clear summer sky.

"Where do you see us in 10 years, darling?" I suddenly asked him, out of the blue.

"Eh? Where is that coming from?" He asked me back while he looked down at me.

"Nowhere, really." I shrugged with a smile. "I just... wonder what our life will be like in 10 years. Do you ever think of things like that?"

"I suppose..." He answered, an ounce of bashfulness in his voice. "We're still young, there's still all of life ahead of us, and even in 10 years from now, we'll still be young... I don't really plan things that far in the future, you know?"

I turned on the bed and lay in front of him, facing him as I elevated my upper body just slightly with the weight of my elbows.

"Well, at least you do imagine us still together in 10 years, right?" I asked with a hint of seriousness.

"Of course-" He promptly replied. "Of course I do, amore mio."

One of his hands moved from my arm to my face, and his slender fingers began tracing my jawline slowly while his gaze rested in mine.

"I never want you to leave my side, and I never want to let you go."

He tilted his head a little and shrugged.

"I just don't really think of things like that, I don't know what the future has in store for us. But what I do know is that I love you."

My cheeks turned pink and my lips drew a tender smile.

"I love you too, Debito."

#debito #debito x reader #debito x you #debito fanfiction #debito fanfictions #debito fluff alphabet #debito fluff alphabets #debito imagine #debito imagines #arcana famiglia #arcana famiglia fanfiction #arcana famiglia fanfictions #arcana famiglia fluff alphabet #arcana famiglia fluff alphabets #arcana famiglia imagine #arcana famiglia imagines #female reader #perplexedflower

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husbandohunter · 3 years

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Mermaids exist in stardew, yes? So imagine a mermaid farmer for Zhongli, Kaeya and Diluc it could be in Yandere setting or not. I just wanna know their reaction when they found out and how it’ll effect their relationship. Will it brew angst, love, or both

Part of your world [Genshin x Mermaid!Reader]{Stardew Impact series}

Synopsis: You came from the sea and he takes you through a journey of what it was like to live on land despite your differences.

Genre: Fluff

Characters: Diluc, Kaeya, Childe, Zhongli

"I threw in Childe because I had an idea for him xD It's fluff month so everything is going to be happy from now on >.>"

=============================

{Diluc}

It was a hot summer day when Diluc first found you lying unconscious ashore. You had just swam far and wide from the ocean world, the climate deemed unideal for your case. With no one else around, he took the initiative to help you out of your situation.

He shortly found out by the slight appearances of scales gracing your legs that you were neither a human or someone coming from the town nearby. As legendary as mermaids are, Diluc wanted nothing to do with you. His beginning plan was to find your relatives and send you out of his house (Additional work isn’t welcomed when he has so much already). However, you latched onto him pretty quickly since he was the one who saved you.

Here stands a human, a creature that you always wanted to interact with, in your perspective he may look a little stern but he must have plenty of knowledge to offer based on all the antiques he owns.

The only problem was that you two had no way to communicate. Different worlds meant different languages. Whenever Diluc told you that you couldn’t stay, all you did was tilt your head and whenever you tried expressing what you wanted to say, well, normally bubbles would come out of your mouth since they were an indication for your words.

He gave up on trying to kick you out and simply allowed you to take residence as long as you stayed out of his workaholic life. You would tend to his farm while he was absent on other matters and feeding animals in the barn (a lot to do but a win-win situation now that you were able to discover what it was like to live on land at the same time). Though you were also a handful, most of the time Diluc had to excuse himself from his desk when you thought the rake was some sort of hair brush and he forbade you from using the bulldozer. Quite honestly you caused him a lot of stress. He spent most of his hours teaching you and before he knew, it was already a habit of his.

The only words you knew were three words. If you wanted to eat you would say ‘fish’. If you were thirsty, you would say ‘water’. If it was anything else, you would say ‘Diluc.’

He allows you to take long baths since he knows how hydrated mermaids must stay at all times. Orders a pool to be built in his front yard (at least this way helps him save his costly electricity bills). Diluc also borrows books from the library museum for you to read, anything that you would find interesting, (mostly they were about alphabets and picture-based stories (it felt like he was raising a child).)

Easily gets worried when you step into town with him, he keeps a watchful eye in case you collapse and extra bottles when you need a drink. Most of the time, he had to keep an eye on you since you had the natural instinct to waltz into whatever interested you, such as dancing in annual festivities (which you dragged him along of course). It was how he grew attached to your presence because you truly knew how to appreciate the world around you when he himself was too busy to do so.

Two worlds merged and he was learning how to live in yours too, how you perceive things. Building sandcastles, collecting seashells, listening to the echoes resounding within them. Activities he thought were unnecessary suddenly gained the meaning he had lost long ago. Diluc grew too fast at maximum speed, trying to get as many things done as he could, until he was pulled back by the emotional waves of your kindness and compassion, onto the shore he failed to live on. How ironic reality can be.

{Childe}

Everyone knew how much Childe loved to fish. He sets out at sea every evening to capture a batch of flounders, hopefully stumbling upon a legendary one.

In a way, he did. Just not what he expected. What he pulled out of the waters seemed to be a human-sized fish sitting upon the other residues caught in between. ‘A mermaid…?’ he thought, still digesting the fact in front of him. (No wonder the net felt so heavy).

At the same time he wanted to take you with and sell you for a good price but knew how mad Tonia would get when she found out. So he lets you go free. The thing is, you swam behind his boat and followed him back to land. This was how your relationship with Childe started, to this day he continues to jest upon that memory.

Tonia took most of the responsibility to coach you about human life. One of them was table etiquette, before you ate with only your hands which caused a mess. Childe would laugh hysterically at it until Tonia reminded him, “This is also what happens when you use chopsticks, big brother.”

Teucer invites you to basically anything since you have so much patience. Childe shortly realizes that he was soon going to be replaced as the eldest caretaker and you couldn’t even talk at that time. So it was only fair that he included himself in the circle while interacting with your way of communicating: sign language (Surprisingly, he was naturally good at it. Though his movements are rather exaggerated and...ungraceful).

You were nice enough to accompany him to his fishing tasks and soon enough became your daily activities. Childe takes the lead as you follow him from the side, sometimes he lets go of the steering wheel and allows you to push the boat instead (he kept a note to himself that in your mermaid mode, your strength multiplied by a large number). Other times he felt a little risky and decided to jump in the ocean with you for a swimming session. It worried you immensely but your anxiety subsided when you saw how much fun he was having and for the rest of the time, you both explored what the ocean had to offer.

Childe used to be a fish-cook enthusiast. Not anymore (since that day you cried when glancing at the flounder dish he placed on the table). He had to stick to seaweed or any other plant-based meals with a little bit of meat but too much would cause your stomach to churn. Since his siblings complained at the sudden change, he had to make a separate meal plan for them. With a mermaid in the house was certainly high-maintenance indeed.

Cuddling with you in front of the cracking fire blazing under the chimney was one of the calmest moments indulged himself in. He often chooses the life where the waves crash constantly, anticipating a thrilling storm that comes ahead. But you were just a lull at the sea, the mediator he needed in times where his siblings needed a mother-figure. Sometimes he fears that you would leave him and return to where your true family lives but he was grateful that you chose him above all else. He was grateful that by chance, he captured you at sea. One thing he loved about life was the unpredictability the future brings, including the blessings. Even if you were a creature from far away, in your presence he felt like he was truly at home.

{Kaeya}

When the tides rose above his head, Kaeya was sure that he was done for. The surfboard he recently stood upon slips off beneath his feet and he falls into the ocean’s merciless waves. No oxygen, no time to catch his breath amidst the impact, his eyes were slowly closing and the last thing he saw was the sun’s light beyond the heavy surface, along with the murky visual of someone swimming in front of it.

Although he almost drowned, the idea of being saved by a pretty mermaid makes up for the fact (He has a natural tendency to flirt at anything eye-catching even if you were an outlandish being). You on the other hand was confused by his advances as you couldn’t understand a word he was saying, hence you swam away.

Those beginning days when you chose to explore the land, Kaeya remembers how much trouble you had with walking using your new legs. He had to hold both your hands while leading you forward, he found it rather cute when you tighten your grip the moment you felt that he was going to let go (he was only bluffing of course but you still hissed at him). Still, Kaeya ensures that you don’t fall to the ground, he catches you in time when you collapse while laughing, “You’re doing great sweetheart.”

In return you teach him how to read the ocean’s movements so that he won’t drown again. Kaeya spends more time around the beach since he knows that the water bodies are where you were most comfortable with. He tells you that you always smell like saltwater whenever he buries his face in your hair, perhaps that was how he grew attached to the ocean as well.

In summer seasons there were several days where you had to sleep in his bathtub because the air was so dry. As a mermaid, he had to tolerate many of your unique quirks, in this case he had to deal with showering in cold water since you took up all the electricity. Another case was your wine tolerance, no one could challenge you to a drinking contest when your body could sustain large amounts of liquids. Kaeya sometimes jokes if you could turn him into a merman like those in fairytale books so he can have the same experience. You take it as a joke while he was also being half-serious.

When you have to take a temporary trip home, Kaeya visits the dock every evening and waits for you to come back, trying to see any signs of your colourful tail. He glances at the ocean he grew to love, knowing where he stood is as far as he could go and anywhere beyond the boundary was out of his reach. So many people left him in his life and even though he knew you wouldn’t do the same, he still worries. Uncertain if you would abandon him too.

Your existence became the center of his life the moment you chose to walk upon land with him. Side by side, through small hurdles the seashore and hurdles as big as the wave that almost killed him the day he met you, Kaeya keeps them all as if they were the most precious treasure a pirate could find. It didn’t matter if you were different from everyone else because despite your tail, all he could see was you.

{Zhongli}

While Zhongli strolls along the sandy beach, he follows the alluring sound of your singing voice. You sat upon the rock while humming along what seems to be an old folk tune, similar to what Guizhong once sang. The man folds his arms and closes his eyes. Many years have passed since he last heard something like this, “Your voice, it’s very lovely.”

He was a geologist who worked by the museum, collecting different types of rocks and seashells that would wash up shore. You became very familiar with his daily routine that before he pays a visit to the beach again, a pile of interesting rocks would be waiting for him by the docks. It was a gift. And Zhongli would bring snacks like seaweed soup as an accommodation for your kindness.

Unlike Kaeya, when you couldn’t walk because your legs were too weak to be used, Zhongli helps you with every step along the way even if the trip was a slow one. He even offered to have you carried when he saw you were having too much trouble but you insisted on trying. The whole trip that usually took ten minutes was a three hour walk.

Even though he knew many things, your language was not one of them. However he was willing to learn. Both of you have study sessions regarding each other’s culture. For you it’s the way humans drink with cups because of Zhongli being a tea fanatic himself, he even showed you how to hold a tea cup properly. You taught him how to swim since he had been so occupied on land that swimming never crossed his mind. Thankfully he was naturally good at it due to his tall stature (albeit a little scared when diving into an environment unknown and different to him).

Zhongli loves the way you sing and he would ask every time he wanted to read a book. Either under the tree on a warm spring day or on the couch when it was storming outside. Although he intended to get some reading done, Zhongli can’t help but fall asleep. You didn’t want to wake him up (and you could carry him if you wanted to thanks to your mega-mermaid strength) so by morning, you’d find yourselves in the same spot and your lap feeling numb.

Earth and sea were separated for a reason so that the creatures may stay upon the place where they belong. That wasn’t enough to separate you from him though. Zhongli would travel to the sea to see you and you mustered the courage to walk upon the hard surface of land. The two were only parts of the world but together they are part of the world, connected to form a whole new life.

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warmau · 3 years

Text

a sour taste makes its way down jisung's throat

he pulls the candy out of his mouth and scrunches his face up

"did this shit expire?"

renjun's lips thin, "since when have you started cursing?"

chenle harks on the grass beside the other two

"ever since he got dumped."

jisung doesn't disagree.

out of everyone to pick up on his change of habits, it'd be his best friend.

he doesn't like to admit it, but the breakup that launched the beginning of his summer has made him feel different

bitter, angry, empty

he's sure if he told someone older like his parents or a professor they'd explain that it's normal.

it's part of growing up to have to process these horrible emotions and learn to feel them less extremely.

that somehow doesn't comfort jisung at all, why is it his fault that being young makes everything feel more vivid? the shatter of the heart in his chest and all the little pieces wedged up in his veins hurt so bad.

"jisung, you'll find someone better."

renjun ties his shoelaces and gets up, he's still chewing on the taffy they brought from the corner store.

jisung follows and he's never been so awkward about his budding height more than he is now

"i doubt that, i don't think i could find anyone better than my first love."

chenle gives a depressed sounding laugh and renjun starts a spiel about how he's being dramatic and silly

the sounds gloss over in jisung's ears, he tosses the candy he'd spit out and the wrapper over his shoulder

"you shouldn't litter."

three sets of eyes turn to the voice, you stand there with your gym bag over your shoulder on a path a little way down from the grassy hill the boys are on

you look at jisung with an unwavering gaze that drops to where he assumes the candy wrapper landed

you bend down and pick it up, shake your head and walk away

jisung follows your figure through the park as renjun and chenle mutter about how you're kind of right but kind of rude

"do you know them?"

jisung asks and renjun taps the bottom of his chin

"i think ive seen them at the tennis courts."

jisung doesn't know what it is about you.

he mistakenly thinks it is dislike that breeds curiosity when he shows up at the public tennis court the next day

you're out on the court with a group of middle schoolers, showing them the right way to swing a racket

jisung leans against the shade of a tree as you go through each step slowly and then have the kids copy you one by one

when you make a sudden movement to turn in the direction he's standing, he slinks behind the trunk

this is so fucking weird, im being a creep

he doesn't have anything to do for the rest of the day, or the rest of the summer, but still he cringes at himself

i should find something better than staring at a goddamn stranger. chenle was right, im cursing way too much.

so he leaves and he doesn't come back

but he visits the park for the next week with the slight hope that your path will cross with him on accident

not that he entertains that as actual hope - just that curiosity that nips at his heel like a cat asking to be feed

on day seven it happens

jisung is staring up at the expanse of the warm blue sky and you're walking from the direction of the tennis courts, you pause to check your phone and jisung springs to his feet

he's in front of you before he really knows what to even say

you don't look as freaked out as he was scared you might, you actually just blink and then point your finger at him

looks like they've got bad habits just like me

"you're the boy who litters!"

"i don't usually litter, i was just in a bad mood that day."

"doesn't excuse throwing your garbage around."

"is that why you remembered me?"

you slip your phone into the pocket of your duffel bag and shake your head

"no, there's another reason."

jisung itches to ask why but he realizes now that this conversation is going exponentially better than it could have

you could have said something like get the hell away from me....or who are you?

"do you want to walk with me for a little bit?"

fuck, i should have just asked why - asking them to walk is weirder

"why not."

you and jisung do loops around the park - it's pretty big so by the time you're on the third loop the night lamps are coming on and the sun is slowly disappearing

you two have talked about everything and nothing at the same time

jisung asks you if you're going to be at the park tomorrow

"i teach a summer tennis course for the park three times a week, but tomorrow is my off day."

"have any plans?"

he puts his hands in his pockets because they're sweating - i should have asked if they wanted me to carry their bag while we were walking. god did getting broken up with make me so stupid too?

"are you asking me out?"

jisungs palms stick to the fabric of his pants

"i got broken up with before summer started."

he blurts out before he can take it back, you poke your tongue into your cheek

"me too."

the genuine surprise makes jisung look younger than he is and you cross your hands over your chest as if you regret sharing the information

"sorry, i have to go."

you edge around him and jisung has one million thoughts run through his brain, how he should apologize or ask for your number or suggest something that could heal you both in the snap of this one summer minute

but instead he watches you walk ahead for a whole two minutes before you turn on your heel and uncross your arms

"can you meet me here at noon?"

"tomorrow?"

jisung feels the sweat on the nape of his neck now too, matching the moistness on his palms

"no, in twenty years. yes - tomorrow."

he nods and you don't give him anything else to work with as you disappear and jisung catches the last little slither of sunlight wave goodbye with you

"are you rebounding already?"

chenle's voice comes through the headphones as jisung clicks on a zombie with his mouse and shoots it

"it's not a rebound - we both got dumped so i thought we could like...FUCK! i died dude."

chenle groans

"maybe they can help you fix this cursing problem, but uhhh it totally sounds like a rebound to me."

jisung thinks about that as he waits for you at the park

rebounding has actually never even occurred to him as a possibility.

then again falling head over heels and getting tossed aside by the person he thought was his soulmate also never occurred to him as a possibility either - especially not before he's even managed to graduate university

but using someone to feel better about himself - that just isn't him.

"oh you actually came?"

he stops staring at the grass and meets the half smile you're wearing. he matches it with a shy one of his own.

you take jisung's hand easily - as if you weren't strangers a week ago - and tug him toward the park gates

"where-"

you look over your shoulder

"we have to eat ice-cream on a date."

jisung and you have the same taste, getting the same flavor of ice cream with a hard no to sprinkles. you tell jisung about this kid you teach privately for tennis and how he's a little rich brat but his parents always tip you nicely. jisung tells you that his best friend is chenle and they met when he nearly broke an elbow on the first day of middle school.

jisung pays for your bus ticket into the busier part of the city, you beat him at a couple of arcade games, and then he absolutely crushes you at mini-basketball. you pile all your tickets together and jisung tells you to pick the prize you want.

he watches you as you scan the cheap toys and then turn to your left where a younger girl is trying to see if she has enough for a sad looking stuffed panda

you dump the tickets into her hand and grin when her whole face lights up, jisung walks out behind you and goes

"you're actually nice aren't you?"

"oh - you didn't think i was nice when we first met?"

"i-"

jisung stutters when you look directly at him

"i just mean you- it was nice what you did in the arcade."

"why did your ex break up with you?"

jisung's world sort of stops for a moment. you still haven't looked away and he gets lightheaded by the sudden question.

"i don't know."

you nod, as if the answer is what you expected, and you take his hand again and make way toward the bus

he curls his larger fingers around yours and is silently thankful you don't ask for any more details

actually you both don't say anything the ride back, even though you rest your head on his shoulder the entire time

your hands are still clasped together and jisung finds himself not wanting to let go even when you stop in front of the park again

"thanks for the date."

you unwind your fingers first and jisung swallows

"do you want to go on another one?"

you shake your head

"sorry, i don't think i can do this more than once."

genuine shock sets in on jisung's face

"w-what do you mean?"

"i know being heartbroken makes you lonely, it makes me lonely too, but i can't just be someone's summer fling and get abandoned again. plus jisung -"

you tilt your head with a small laugh

"i think you're really cute and if we do this again i will start liking you seriously."

what the fuck do i say?

jisung thinks the summer heat in the air constricts around him - especially when he can't open his mouth to answer and you give a solemn wave as you turn and start to disappear down the sidewalk

fuck fuck fuck fuck

the curses start to hurt his brain and jisung breaks into a sprint to catch you before you make it to the end of the block

slipping his hand back into yours and spinning you to face him

"im not going to abandon you. and i - i already like you so please let me take you on another date."

the words fall out like letters into alphabet soup and you stare wide-eyed at him for about a second before you lean in and kiss him

and jisung forgets the entire language he's spoken since he was a child, curses and vulgarity gone with it

the second date comes and goes, then the third, and then the fourth, fifth, and sixth.

jisung watches you give tennis lessons and you even tug him onto the court one day to help with picking up the scattered balls off the court

the younger kids you teach really adore him, tall and smiley, they cling to him more than they do to you

and there really isn't any way you can stop them because soon enough you feel that urgency to be near him always too

it might be because jisung is so different from your ex, and you are so different from his

the reality is that when you finally tell each other what happened before your respective summers started

it turns out - it's almost exactly the same

jisung looks up at you as you lay across him in the tall grass of an empty corner of the parks sprawling fields, your tennis equipment abandoned and his shoes sitting beside yours in a lazy heap

"they just told me one day i wasn't enough."

you bury your face in his chest and sigh

"maybe im not, maybe something about me is still missing."

the tenor of his voice is sad and you put both hands on the grass to lift yourself up above him, you stare down into the prettiest eyes you've ever seen on a boy in your life

"shuttup park jisung. nothing is missing from you. you're enough."

he gives you a goofy smile and you want so badly to smile back and kiss him but you take the moment seriously and add

"remember when you asked me if i only remembered you because i caught you littering like weeks ago?"

the furrow of his eyebrow is enough of an answer

"i said there was another reason."

he sits up and you fall gently back against his knees and lap, jisung opens his mouth as if to ask what it was but you put your hands on both his cheeks before he can

"that reason was because i could see all of you - people tend to be shrouded in something, but it was all on your face the moment you made eye contact with me. jisung - you're the farthest person i know from being incomplete. you're you and no one else."

the weight of your words comes crashing down on you a second later and you get up off of jisung in a fit of embarrassment

even though you meant what you said it felt like something of a wedding vow than something you say someone you've been dating for only a month

but jisung just breaks into a bigger smile - he pulls you back down into a hug that gets you both covered in grass stains

"im so happy"

you smell the fabric softener on his t-shirt and suddenly wish you could slip it off of him and put it on yourself

his hands tighten around you

"i always thought the other reason was because i was ugly or something."

you scrunch up your nose and tell him to be quiet, but jisung just laughs and buries his nose in your hair

the rest of the summer is smooth and the happiest one you've had so far - and jisung, who had thought it would be hell, agrees

renjun points out that he hasn't heard jisung even utter the word 'damn' since he started dating you

and chenle cuts in that it's true - now whenever they game jisung just groans into the mic (or abandoned the game completely to fool around you with - as it is in chenle's imagination)

you notice it too, and you notice how everyday jisung grows further from the heartbreak that he had festered on for so long

and just becomes more open with you

on your last day at your summer job and what feels like the last day of summer in general, jisung picks you up with balloons

you both hand them out to the kids you worked with and keep one shaped like a big red heart tied around your wrist as you two walk through the dimming evening of the park

fall is coming, your shoulders shake and jisung pulls you closer into him, and when he stops suddenly

you see that you're in the place where you first met - when jisung had let that candy wrapper tumble down a grassy hill and you had picked it up with disdain

"is untying the balloon and letting it float off considered littering?"

he asks and you think for a second

"probably, it'll get stuck in a tree somewhere and we don't want that."

he looks down and leans in to kiss you gently, letting your lower lip sit between his teeth for a moment before he pulls away

"can we do it anyway to make the moment special?"

you look at him, eyes clear as day, and answer

"every moment is special with you."

jisung manages to get ten of those red balloons through the door of your shared apartment on your tenth anniversary

you fret about how balloons are bad for the environment, but still launch yourself at him in a big hug when he gets them all settled into your living room

he catches you, laughing as you both muse that you can't believe it has been ten years since you met

"and i haven't cursed once since then - can you believe it?"

you roll your eyes and say yeah sure, like he didn't curse when he stubbed his toe on your bed this morning

he pouts his lip and asks, "play along ok - just say i haven't cursed once."

"you haven't cursed once in the ten years we have been dating."

something twinkles in jisung's eye and you bite back your lip

"exactly - so is it ok if i curse this one time and say-"

he fishes something out of his pocket that looks like a small box, you think your breath catches in your throat

"i fuc-freaking love you - will you marry me?"

#i know this is read from jisung's perspective in the beginning but i didn't know how else to get across the like cursing thing #if i wasnt writing from his kind of vision but like the turning point shifts to the reader #anyway none of you give a fuck so ill stop talking #nct scenarios #nct dream scenarios #park jisung #jisung scenarios #jisung au #jisung imagines #nct imagines #nct dream imagines #nct dream au #nct dream #sfw #cursing/#nostalgia

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animecreator3000 · 3 years

Text

About the Boueibu iceberg

@delphoxqueen asked me to explain about my list for the iceberg so here it is. I might update this from time to time with links and stuff if I stumble across the original posts. This is all from what I know so feel free to add new info. Also, spoiler warning for RobiHachi and the Boueibu manga and novels. (This is like a masterpost it’s very long)

1. There’s a theory in tumblr about which decade the series is set in, using data like the friday the 13th calendar in s2 ep11. In HK we got a second number for when the next monthly Pretty Boy Contest was happening and using the one from Love it was theorized that around a decade had passed since then, which ended up being true.

2. The stage play had a few original songs and characters exclusive to it so unless you watched the full performance, you probably weren’t able to witness all of them. One of the characters is called “Robato Deniro”, as romanized in the stage play booklet I own.

3. The nurse and the cafeteria staff from the s1 mobile game appear in the background in around the first half of s2 ep3.

4. S2 had an unfinished manga that was only available online and was never released on physical format; it was centered around the defense club and sometimes the conquest club and Beppu brothers. All that’s left from what I know are the scans linked on magicalgirlsandcerulean’s blog.

5. This isn’t that obscure because it’s talked about in the anime, but I’m mentioning it because I think many people dropped it before the ova, where right at the beginning it is revealed that the alien that resucitated Mr. Tawarayama twice was, as described by Io, a “mulberry-colored naked mole rat-looking thing”, and was nicknamed “Moley-san” by Yumoto. At least in the anime, we had never heard before of who this was and it never appeared on screen nor was mentioned again.

6. In HK ep8, Karurusu promises the knights to grant a wish if they show him how earthlings spend summer. Kyoutarou reveals at the end of the episode that he wished that summer lasted one more day so he could spend it doing nothing, which prompts Ichiro to theorize that it’s the 32nd of august, and the next day is the second 1st of september.

7. The stage play was was held from march 10th to 13rd, of which the latter is Ryuu’s birthday. There’s an additional recording of a small celebration with cake focused on Ryuu and Io.

8. Atsushi mentions his older sister in the flashback at the beginning of s1 ep4, but she never appears or is mentioned again.

9. There’s a few posts on tumblr theorizing about what happened to the Hakone parents since Yumoto only says in s2 ep3 that according to Gora, “they are busy with their hot springs tour”. En mentions that it’s a bit suspicious, but it’s all the information we have from the anime. Posts talk about the parents perhaps passing away from an accident or an illness, thus the reason why Gora was so worried about Yumoto’s cold in s1 ep10, but from another post I think it’s implied in the second novel that they actually left their home when Yumoto was still a toddler.

10. It’s no secret that the surnames of the characters are all real onsens in Japan that even the seiyuus have visited, but apparently the Arima onsen has two different kinds of water, “kinsen (gold hot spring)” and “ginsen (silver hot spring)”, with different properties each, and the Kusatsu onsen water also has certain properties, both that were used to build the characters. Additionally, Ryuu’s favorite food are Sato Nishiki cherries, which are grown in the same prefecture, Yamagata, as his onsen, Zaou.

11. The press club lose relevance after s1, with only Kinosaki and Tazawa reappearing briefly in s2 ep2 to interview the Beppu twins after they arrive at the school. Tazawa doesn’t even have lines. Hireashi is mentioned by Zundar in ep11.

12. What the heck

13. Exclusively in the manga we see that Arima met Kinshiro and Atsushi when they were little and they were good friends, but when they met again as adults, Kinshiro seemingly didn’t remember Arima. Atsushi, however, stated that Kinshiro’s talent is remembering people’s faces and names, so Arima wonders if he’s just trying to distance himself from him. He also explains to Akoya that he follows Kinshiro and obeys him because as a child, he was fascinated by his radiant smile. This is never talked about in the anime.

14. Like the previous point, the anime never shows Akoya being bullied, at most just a slight dislike of his full name, but the manga shows that he was made fun of for it and how he actually hates his surname, to the point of introducing himself formally to the president and vicepresident of the student council as “Holy Angel Akoya”.

15, 16, 17, 19. Batonama lives were the livestreams done through the franchise by the defense club seiyuus on youtube and niconico. They’re all on youtube, without any kind of translation.

Love-ko is a girl with a shell bikini drawn on a piece of cardboard that was used as a girlfriend in the Batonama Love! lives, acted by the seiyuus themselves.

RobiHachi has one episode full of official Boueibu artwork and a parody of the series too, a Love-ko doll appears, and Wombat appears as well, named “The Don”. It received an english dub, so for a bit, people were excited that Wombat was going to speak in english too. Also, various mechas appear in both Boueibu and RobiHachi.

18. The director of Fairy Ranmaru (Masakazu Hishida if I’m not wrong) revealed in an interview that he was inspired by Boueibu and aimed to make a show like that.

20, 21. The website super-groupies.com has results for defense and conquest club lingerie sets, dc and VEPPer tote bags, the Beppus’ scarf rings, dc bath sets and the pumps magicalgirlsandcerulean mentioned. I’ve found the s1 Loveracelets and Caerula Adamas’ ring on different sites, the True Loveracelets on TheChara’s twitter and the Happybraces (apparently called “Hapibure”) on broccoli.co.jp but I’m not sure where exactly they were all announced and sold, so I’ll just drop that.

22, 33. Boueibu was originally pretty much a copy of Sailor Moon, I think they were all going to be called “Lackluster Moon” and that stuff and be literally Sailor Moon genderbent. They were all different from color palettes to physical features (except Yumoto’s), and Ryuu was a shota, even smaller than Yumoto. Their names were also very reminiscent of the five Sailor Senshis’. Even if they made it more original, the show is still clearly inspired by Sailor Moon (just look at Caerula Adamas lol) and Pretty Cure. It has also referenced, very blatantly, animes like Doraemon, Detective Conan, Aikatsu and even Vocaloid, when Kyoutarou tries to guess what Karurusu is saying with ““Just Google It, Asshole”?” in ep1.

23. Wombat’s real name and the name of his planet sound like gibberish to the earthlings and ends up being named after the Earth animal, but Zundar, Dadacha, Karurusu and Furanui all have original names. And I think Hireashi means “goldfish”?

24. If you google “zundar technology”, it’s actually a company in Shanghai, China. Aren’t Wombat and Zundar always talking about “advanced alien technology”?

25. Zundar and Dadacha are siblings, so are Karurusu and Furanui, and so are their father King Kamopapa and their uncle minister Wao, but neither are the same species and, except the first two, not even the same color. But they are supposedly related because they share birthmarks or something like that...

26. Everyone who’s in this fandom knows about the pixel blur and voice pitch censor from s1, but I’ve added it anyway because it’s so rare for mahou shoujo and shounen animes to explain why the heroes aren’t recognized when transformed.

27. A good while of s2 ep11 is spent discussing Zundar’s ex-wife and his problems to give child support. Naturally, he gets mad at this.

28. “Money doesn’t betray” (s1 ep6) and “The despair hidden behind your smile that comes from not being understood” (s3 ep11) are sentences that came out of nowhere and implied that the people they were said by (Io) or about (Taiju) respectively had some kind of angst going on but were never explained at all. They’re famous for just that.

29. The Beppu twins’ house in Andromeda shown in flashbacks had strange green circles that apparently are from another anime I don’t know but honestly I didn’t get it very well... It was revealed on a tweet from Takamatsu.

30. Alien language mostly appeared in s2 due to the many flashbacks of Aki and Haru in Andromeda, but in Boueibu s1, it appears on the Zundar Needle before it is shot on the human. It appears a lot through RobiHachi as well, due to being a story about travelling through space. There might be an alphabetical chart somewhere, but I can’t assure it exists, I might even have dreamed it.

31. Hikaru Midorikawa as the melon monster, Kousuke Toriumi as the bishounen monster, Yoshitsugu Matsuoka as the kotatsu and panda monsters and Takuya Eguchi as the remote controller monster in s1 and 2, before going on to voice the main cast in HK. Keisuke Koumoto voiced Hatchi Kita in RobiHachi as well as Akihiko in Boueibu, and the characters look similar.

A new addition is that so far Boueibu is the only anime I’ve seen where children weren’t voiced by female seiyuus, but by actual children. Personally, it’s charming and makes it so much more realistic, specifically since no women appear in the franchise at all either (not counting Protag-chan in the game).

32. Speaking of seiyuus, Can I Destroy The Earth? had a dub shown in ep11/12 (?) that made Gora the villain that wanted Earth to stay the same and not progress, against the monsters that supposedly wanted to bring good things to earthlings. Aki and Haru quickly dismissed this dub as fake. (I made a mistake in the title in the previous post btw)

34. As seen in the glossary in the Boueibu Mook (I think, but might not be the mook), Caerula Adamas’ speeches are based on an old japanese detergent commercial that went “Gold, silver, pearl, gift”.

35. In the manga there’s a short parody of the first chapter of Sailor Moon with “Pretty Boy Guardian Gakuran Akoya”. The conquest club manga was released before the anime, so I remember reading somewhere that a fake website appeared for the Gakuran Akoya manga, before turning into the conquest club manga website in the day of its release.

36. Cgi was used a few times in the anime: s2 ep10 for a short sequence of the defense club on a rollercoaster and the carousel monster, ep11 for a cenital shot of the Battle Lovers singing, and HK ep12 for the Honyalaland soldiers and the Wao mecha.

37. The toothbrush incident in s1 ep7. (It’s definitely well-known but it’s so weird lol)

38. “We hope we can see each other again someday!” Something along those lines was the last text to appear in the last episode of HK, implying a s2. We all know how that went.

#boueibu #new post bc i didn't put a readmore in the other one and it was getting too long #msorry #long post #speaking of the robihachi eng dub... sarazanmai has one too...#so many animes like those get dubs but not boueibu?! HOW UNFAIR #at least we got the funimation subs #is the game even canon??#i mean with stuff like how everyone is apparently straight in there #even yumoto who pretty much came out as gay in the anime #that's very inconsistent #i mean. it is canon but maybe it's like an au? idk #also we need gakuran akoya to be real lmao #also no prequel with gora or hk s2. WHYYYY #i think this took me four hours

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chilly-me-softly · 3 years

Note

fluff alphabet for jordan (henderson)

This is my first alphabet so hope I did it right and that you like it! x

A - APRON

Jordan wasn't the best cook in the world, he kept it simple and always made the same recipes sure that the result was more than acceptable. And you loved to see him in action, from the moment he put on his apron until he got to the cooker, his expression always focused as if he were in the middle of a surgical operation. And then his eagerness to know if it was good, the smile on his face when you complimented him, him enormously pleased with himself.

B - BALL

Of course he always has a ball between his feet, many times urging you to play with him. And you're not a professional player at his level, but you certainly manage to distract him in other ways...

C - CUDDLE

After a day of practice what better thing than holding you in his arms while you tell him what happened while he was gone or anything else that comes to mind. Your voice is better than any relaxing drink, so much so that many times he has closed his eyes without even noticing.

But it's the little circles you draw on his arm, the light kisses you leave on his chin from time to time that make his night. Because no matter how much he likes being around the boys, no one pampers him like you do.

D - DINOSAUR

The little dinosaur is supposed to be for your son, but ever since it was given to you, it keeps you company when you're alone. Or even to annoy Jordan as he often complains that you spend more time hugging that soft toy than he does.

"I swear, as soon as he's born, I'll let him have it"

"If you say so" Jordan strokes your eight month old baby bump with a smile on his face, "did you hear mommy? She'll leave you her toys" he leaves a light kiss on your belly as you gasp hitting him with the dinosaur head.

"You're really mean Jordan, go away I never want to see you again" you put on a fake pout as he looks at you softly getting up to be at your height.

"How about you keep this dinosaur, and our son gets another one? You can match"

"I don't need a stuffed animal, I'm a big girl now" but you don't believe it either, him raising an eyebrow clearly amused and you hitting him with the dinosaur again.

E - EXERCISE

Even on his days off Jordan had to work out, the home gym built for the occasion. And he loves showing off for you, when you go to sit on a bench and your gaze settles on his toned, sweaty body.

"Like what you see?" he sneers, gently passing the towel over his face and then laying it on your shoulders, you rolling your eyes faking nonchalance.

"Please my lover is in better shape"

"Oh yeah?" Jordan walks over trapping your legs against the bench and starting to lie on top of you.

"No Jordan you're sticky" you try to desist but he's already on your lips. So you draw him to you by the neck, the thin layer of clothing separating you starting to get annoying.

F - FAMILY PHOTO

Jordan literally loves family photos, a big one of you just on the fireplace. He claims that every year you have to redo it because you all change so much, especially the little ones. Plus that year there is a new member of the family so it has to be redone.

You smile, arranging the ribbon around the baby's head in your arms as a three-year-old runs past your side almost tripping.

"Careful" you sigh, "Come on come over here next to us so we can take the picture and then you can go play" you don't know how he hasn't gotten dirty in some way yet. Jordan and the light shirt obsession. It's cute but totally not appropriate for a vulcano like your kid.

Finally Jordan arrives after talking to the photographer about the shots, wrapping an arm around you briefly. He places a kiss on your temple and the forehead of the little one in your arms before stopping the baby who was about to run away again.

"Just two minutes okay?" he smiles, crouching down and resting his hands on the kid's shoulders, smoothing down his jacket and adjusting his little bow tie before guiding him back to his seat.

And at the end of the week all you have to do is choose the best photo.

G - GETAWAY

Especially in summer you used to disappear to spend some time alone away from schedules, appointments, dinners to attend, families. Nothing was better than disconnecting, just you and Jordan relaxing in a secluded place or being tourists in some unknown location. You did everything you could to keep your mind off your troubles for even a couple of nights and it was always worth it.

H - HUG

All you had to do was say that word and Jordan would drop what he was doing, his arms gently around your body. Sometimes you did it just for the sake of it, but most of the time you just felt the need to be held and he was almost always there to satisfy you.

I - ILL

Sick Jordan was absolutely something. His unkempt state, his bright eyes and his drawling smile made him so cute in your eyes even though he felt like crap.

"Stop looking at me like that" he complains as he always does trying to hide his head somewhere while you smile.

"I'm not doing anything"

"You're looking at me" his voice comes muffled from under the pillow as you try to take it off, stroking his slightly damp hair. You liked taking care of him for once, even if it meant he wasn't at his best. He always seemed so strong, always available for you and that was one of the few times you could somehow return the favour.

He got annoying but you couldn't really take it out on him, could you?!

J - JORDAN

You didn't use nicknames, his name was good like that and you didn't need to change it or not use it at all. And he loved to hear his name coming from you. With hilarity when you were having fun; with sweetness in intimate moments; and yet angry, joking, alarmed, every possible nuance brought a smile to his face.

K - KEY

You were having breakfast one morning, you were enjoying your bowl of cereal while his had become un-eatable by now as he kept throwing you glances not caring about it.

He continues to twist something between the fingers of the hand he has hidden from your view when suddenly Jordan reaches across the table, sliding something towards you. A key.

"This is the house key. I wanted to... well give it to you but don't feel pressured in any way" he doesn't know exactly what he's nervous about, many times he's left you his keys to get in or when he was out of town for emergencies. But you looking at him motionless certainly doesn't help him. Has he made a mistake?

"You're giving me the key to your house?" your gaze on that object, incredulous, not touching it as if it might shock you. "Really?" you always had his keys on loan, having your own meant he trusted you enough to let you into his space even unannounced, or that you wouldn't lose it and risk someone else finding it. It was a really great gesture.

"Yeah I mean I thought you could have your own copy, and use it even when I'm here" a huge smile breaks across your face as you stand up going to sit on Jordan's lap, him scooting his chair further back to allow you to be more comfortable.

"That's...I have no words. Just thank you"

"I like the idea of coming home to find you already comfortable"

"Oh I surely will" you chuckle as you finally take that key in your hands, snapping to your feet causing a confused expression to appear on Jordan's face as you leave for the door.

"I forgot something" you walk back inside using the key and going straight to leave a kiss on his lips as he stands up immediately wrapping his arms around your body. "Are you crazy? It's so cold out there"

"I have a key now" you state with satisfaction as you cling to him.

L - LAUGH

Definitely his trademark, you can recognise it even with your eyes closed. You couldn't be more different than that, you always trying to be as quiet as possible while he was always so loud. But you couldn't help but be mesmerised by his face when he laughed, from his squinted eyes to his head thrown back.

"If I were to lose my memory, I'm sure your laugh would make me remember you" a soft smile on your face as you looked up at him slightly from below lying on his chest as he raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about? Why would you lose your memory?"

"I said if, it's a scenario" you roll your eyes pouting, him quickly running his thumb over your lips to remove it.

"Why do you always have to be so tragic?"

"Ugh Jordan it was a compliment, it's not my fault you don't get it" and that laugh is always there to fill your heart.

M - MATCHDAY

Every home game Jordan is sure to have you at the stadium cheering for him. Over the years that has never changed, only skipping games when you weren't feeling well or when you were really pregnant and Jordan would be more concerned about you and your safety than the outcome of the game.

A little unspoken routine between you, him always leaving home early no matter the kick off time to review tactics and you sending him a text to wish him luck with a picture of you - and later a picture of you and the kids - wearing his jersey.

After the match regardless of the result and after he has done any interviews, here you are together sharing a short but sweet moment. You remind him how proud you are of him, the children want to go and play on the pitch.

N - NOSE

His nose brushes your neck as he snuggles up against you to rest; his nose brushes yours gently in an Eskimo kiss before he makes your lips connect; his nose brushes your skin after you have just stepped out of the shower. You often teased him by saying he looked like a tracker but you liked that little attention, the build up to what came next.

O - OLD

You always tease him by claiming he's getting old, sprawled out on the couch after spending half an hour chasing his son completely out of energy while the kid would happily take another ten thousand steps in the backyard.

"If I'm old then so are you, you know that don't you?"

"Yeah" you shrug, "but I'm still younger than you"

P - PIXEL

It's no secret that Jordan travels a lot during the year, your pixilated face seen more times than he'd like. But you don't hold it against him, besides being work it's his dream and moving around so much means he's living it to the fullest; that he's required and indispensable to the team besides being its captain of course.

You have learned to live the moments when you are together, to cheer and not waste it. And every time he stops to look at you while you're sleeping by his side or even just at any other time, he can't stop remembering how much those pixels don't really do you justice.

R - RING

It was a normal day in your life when you realised as a teenager that you had a thing for guys' hands, and if they had rings for some reason it was a bonus.

And many times you'd literally froze as you stared at Jordan's hands moving as he talked or wrote or cooked, the addition of that ring after your wedding didn't help the cause. You were brought back down to earth by his laughter because it was always surprising how one minute you were actively participating in the conversation and the next you were like in trance.

S - SAFE

You don't think you've ever told him verbally but you were lucky enough to have met him. Jordan makes you feel safe and you don't talk about the need to be defended from the bad. You know that with Jordan you can talk about whatever is on your mind without fear of being judged, you know he will always be there for you no matter what. You're immediately heartened by the reminder that he's by your side because any moment is less hard if the right person is by your side.

T - TOMORROW

It is something you often talk about, tomorrow. Everything is unpredictable, you never wanted to make long-term plans because you never know what might happen but only one thing you know for sure that you want Jordan by your side. And your idea matches his.

"You are my tomorrow and as long as I wake up with you by my side I will have a reason to smile"

U - UNIVERSE

"You are my universe"

"Stop it"

"But you are, why wouldn't I tell you" he chuckles as you hit him trying to hide your face.

You are one who is always on the move, always available for others but at the same time doesn't know how to react to compliments. You do what you do not to be praised or anything else but just because you feel like it and every time after a compliment of any kind any word would seem unnecessary, making you stand in front of that person smiling embarrassed making you feel uncomfortable. There, if you had to find a word to describe it you could say that compliments make you uncomfortable.

And Jordan knows this very well, but every now and then when you're alone he starts showering you with compliments and sweet phrases for the sake of it. But the truth is that he likes it when you blush, your cheeks turning red as you do your best not to look him in the eye or hide your face in your hands.

V - VOWS

It seemed years away, but your wedding day had arrived overwhelmingly. You couldn't wait to experience that day and those emotions to the fullest. The thing that had been most challenging for you was the vows, so many things to say without finding the right words. Everything seemed already said, obvious, not perfect and several times you had been on the verge of a nervous breakdown for that small detail.

But on your wedding day, no one around you exists anymore. There's just you and Jordan and your hearts full of love for each other, his thumb caressing the back of your hand for support. You almost forget what you've been struggling to write over those last few months, the words that come easily from your lips just by looking into his eyes.

W - WINNER

Winner takes it all. Jordan watches from afar as you joke with some of his teammates and the only thing he can think about is how that year just ended was one of the most amazing of his life so far, both professionally and in his personal life. He had achieved extraordinary goals with the team, broken records and set new ones. And then he had you who had given him a child a few months earlier and he felt like a winner.

Y - YUMMY

"Yeah that's yummy" Jordan watches his baby close his mouth around the spoon and then bring his thumb to his mouth getting messy with his own food.

"Why do you do that hm? Why?" his tone of voice only makes the child laugh as he waits for another bite clapping his hands on the high chair. Jordan quickly satisfies him seeing the same scene repeat itself, the little hands that have now become sticky and are getting everything they touch dirty like they always do at feeding time.

Z - ZOOM

His professionalism never fails to amaze you as you watch him from afar managing to handle questions in front of a computer. It will be the third interview in which he's asked the same things over and over again and you have never seen him make any gesture of tiredness or annoyance. And you are waiting for him to finally get up from that chair to wrap him in your arm and give him the right amount of pampering he needs to clear his head of everything.

#thank you anon #jordan henderson #jordan henderson blurb

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fuckallthegood0nesweretaken · 3 years

Text

Sandor Clegane X Reader - Five and One

Title: Five and One

Words: 5,574

Warnings: Slight violence

A/N: This might be turned into a series, but I don’t know just yet. If you’d like to request something, send me an ask. I’d love to write for you! There’s a Kiss Prompt list, a NSFW Alphabet list, and a Headcanon list. If you have an original idea, don’t hesitate to send in an ask for that as well.

If you’d like to support me, I have a Ko-Fi and a Patreon. I’ll be posting all of my work to Patreon first from here on out and I’ll even be posting some non-fanfic writing there as well.

Sandor Masterlist

Game of Thrones Masterlist

Masterlist

~~~~~~~

The five times Sandor Clegane wanted to kiss you

It was a hot day in King’s Landing and you were positively miserable. You had moved there seven years ago, just before the birth of your nephew, Joffrey. You were used to the cooler climate of Casterly Rock and the only reason you agreed to move into the Red Keep was because of your siblings. You had always been close to them and it had hurt to be so far away from your family.

This is how you found yourself walking to the cooling pools, a little Joffrey in tow. You were easily his favorite person, not including his mother. He absolutely adored you and you adored him too. Joffrey giggled and tugged on your hand.

“Come on Auntie! You promised to teach me how to swim!”

“I know, my love. We’re almost there,” you said with a sweet smile.

Sandor was following closely behind, eyes never leaving your form. Once he realized he was staring, he shook his head lightly to clear his thoughts. Sandor and you had a, friendship, of sorts. He was always around Joffrey, being his guard since birth, and in turn he was almost always around you as well. If Joffrey wasn’t in his lessons or with his mother, he was with you.

You could never say no to Joffrey when he wanted to spend time with you. You loved your nephew dearly and wanted to cherish the time spent with him while you could. It also helped that you liked Sandor’s company and he was with your nephew all the time. You shook yourself of your thoughts and turned to Joffrey.

“We’re here!” Joffrey looked around the cooling pools with wide eyes.

“It’s pretty,” Joffrey said, slightly in awe. There were three pools in the room, each with different depths. The clear water was slightly blue due to the stones at the bottom and the sunlight shining through the large windows made it sparkle. The temperature was significantly lower than outside and you were visibly more relaxed.

“Are you ready to swim, little one?” You said to your nephew. He nodded excitedly, a wide smile on his face. “Alright. Let’s get started then.”

Sandor turned around when you started taking off your outer layer of clothing and only faced you and Joffrey when he heard splashing. He watched as you taught your nephew how to float on his back and when he was having trouble, Sandor watched as you were patient with him.

“Sweetheart, it’s alright,” you cooed. “It takes a while to be able to swim. No one gets it in a day, so don’t worry about that.”

“I bet you got it in a day, Auntie,” Joffrey huffed. You let out a laugh and pinched Joffrey’s cheek.

“Actually, I didn’t know how to swim until I was almost fifteen.”

“That’s so old!”

“You hush, little one!” You said as you tickled Joffrey lightly, your face in a false pout.

“Why did you learn so late?” Joffrey questioned.

“Well, when I was a kid, my father, your grandfather, didn’t want me learning anything of that sort. He viewed swimming as being in the same ring as sword fighting and other, lordly things, things that a lady shouldn’t do. But one day, I fell into the water at Lannisport and almost drowned. Luckily, my father wasn’t far away and managed to get to me in time. After that, he made all of us learn how to swim.”

“So now you’re teaching me how to swim?”

“I am. When Marcella and Tommen are big enough I’ll teach them and if you have any other siblings, I’ll teach them as well.”

After a few more hours, Joffrey had learned how to float correctly and how to hold his breath under water. You were about to teach him how to tread water when someone came walking into the cooling pools, asking for you.

“Lady [y/n], King Robert is calling for you,” the servant said.

“Did he say what he needed me for?” You asked.

“He did not, my lady.”

“Alright. Come on, little one. We should get you back home.”

“But Auntie! I want to stay here with you and to keep swimming,” Joffrey pouted.

“I know, sweetheart. But your father needs me and don’t you want to see your mother? Get some food in that little belly of yours?” You tickled him again and Joffrey’s laugh echoed throughout the chamber.

“Okay, Auntie. Do you think Uncle Jaime and Uncle Tyrion will be there too?” The two of you climbed out of the pool and Sandor handed you some towels.

“Thank you, Ser Clegane,” you said to him with a smile. Sandor only grunted at you and turned away as you looked at Joffrey.

“I’m going to go change real quick. You go with Miss Ava and get changed too, alright?”

“Yes Auntie.” You kissed his forehead before going to the changing rooms.

Sandor watched you walk away and he shook his head. He was having a hard time controlling himself and if he didn’t get his shit together, bad things would happen. But he couldn’t help himself. You were so kind and gentle, and when he saw you interacting with your family, all he could think about was kissing you senseless.

When you walked out of the changing rooms, Sandor clenched his jaw shut and followed closely behind you when you started making your way back inside the Red Keep.

You couldn’t wait to get to Winterfell. The long trip would finally be over and you’d get to sleep in a real bed for the first time in a month. You’d also be able to see Ned and Catelyn again.

“Auntie, you’ve been here before, right?” Joffrey asked you as you rode beside him on your horse. Sandor was behind you, silently listening to your conversation.

“I have. I went with your father some years ago to help with some diplomatic things.”

“Did you enjoy Winterfell?”

“I did. It’s a beautiful place and the Summer snows are absolutely wonderful,” you said.

“It snows in the Summer?” Joffrey’s eyes were wide and you let out a laugh. Sandor snorted lightly behind his helmet but no one heard him.

“It does.”

“But it’s Summer time,” Joffrey said. “Do you think it’ll snow while we’re here?”

“They’re so far North that they get snow all the time, even when it’s Summer. It’s definitely possible that it could snow, but I don’t know for sure.” You gave your nephew a smile and pointed to the horizon. “We’re almost there.”

Joffrey looked to where you were pointing and saw Winterfell in the distance.

“We’re here to ask Lord Stark to be my father’s Hand, right? Do you think he’ll accept?”

“I hope so. Ned Stark is a good man and he’ll make an excellent Hand of the King.”

Joffrey kept asking questions and you answered them to the best of your ability, Sandor listening to every word. You were the only one that was able to make the prince less of a prick than he normally was and Sandor thought that it was hilarious. Not even his mother could make him do the things you could.

When you crossed Winterfell’s gates, Joffrey went silent and you sat up straighter. Your eyes met Catelyn’s and you smiled at each other. The youngest Stark girl looked at you in awe and you winked at her before Robert made himself known and everyone knelt on the ground. After Ned and Robert greeted each other and Robert looked at Ned’s children, you dismounted your horse and walked up to Cat.

“Lady Stark, it’s good to see you,” you said, giving her a hug. You turned to Ned. “It’s good to see you too, Lord Stark.”

“’It’s been too long,” Ned said as he kissed your hand. Cersei walked up and you moved to the side so the Starks could greet their Queen.

“Nine years, just as the King said.”

“Ned, take me to the crypts. I need to pay my respects,” Robert said, giving no room for argument. You gave your elder sister a sad glance when Robert said that and watched as they walked off.

---

You had been in Winterfell for a couple days when you saw Joffrey angrily talking to someone, Sandor looming behind him. Brows furrowed, you walked towards the three of them. When you could hear what he was saying, you narrowed your eyes.

“Do you know how much this cloak cost?!” Joffrey yelled. “Tell me how much you think it cost!”

“I-I don’t know, your grace,” the woman stuttered out, clearly terrified.

“Tell me!” The woman whimpered and you stalked towards them.

“Joffrey Baratheon, what is the meaning of this?” You said. You stopped a few feet away from them and put your hands on your hips. Joffrey turned to you and pointed at the woman.

“This peasant poured wine all over my cloak,” Joffrey hissed. Sandor rolled his eyes and shook his head when you glanced at him.

“And that means you can yell at her?” Joffrey was about to speak but you silenced him with a glare. “No, it does not. You can get a new cloak. Now, apologize to her at once.”

You could tell that Joffrey was biting his tongue and you narrowed your eyes slightly. He gave in and looked at the ground before glancing at the woman.

“Please forgive me. I acted rashly and rudely,” Joffrey said, voice low.

“It’s a-alright, your grace,” the woman said. She glanced at you and you motioned for her to leave. When she was gone, you turned to your nephew.

“Joffrey, you need to learn how to keep your emotions in check,” you said.

“She wasn’t paying attention and spilled wine all over me, Auntie.”

“That doesn’t matter. It was an accident and accidents happen.” You took his face in your hands and made him look at you. “You are to be king one day, sweetheart. A king needs to know when to release his anger and when to keep it in check. Yelling at servants because of accidents is not a kingly act.”

“You’re right, Auntie. I am sorry I acted like this,” Joffrey said.

“It is alright, my love. Just remember that when you are king, fear will be needed, yes, but you also need kindness.”

“I will.” Joffrey kissed your cheek and walked away. You sighed and looked at him as he walked away.

“He’s lucky to have you by his side,” Sandor said quietly.

“Let’s just hope that he continues to listen to me,” you said. You gave Sandor a small smile and bowed your head at him before walking back inside the castle.

Sandor let out a breath and leaned against the wall as he watched you leave. You were so kind and he knew that you would be going to find that woman and apologize to her again, even though you didn’t need to. He smacked his fist against the stone and pushed himself upright before walking back into the castle.

The day Marcella was sent to Dorne, you cried. It felt like it was the last time you’d see her and your heart broke as you watched her get smaller and smaller. Once she was a speck on the horizon, you walked with your family and Sansa through the streets of King’s Landing. The crowd was getting restless and when you saw Joffrey get hit in the face and heard the swords zing as they were pulled from their scabbards, your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest.

Joffrey was yelling and fighting broke out. You were with Tyrion and you both watched in horror as the crowd converged on a Septon and ripped his arm from his body.

“Tyrion, where’s Sansa?” You said. Your eyes darted around the street and you saw no sign of her anywhere. Tyrion pushed you towards a guard and he grabbed you before guiding you inside.

You sat down and immediately someone came over to you and checked you for injuries.

“I’m fine,” you said. “Other’s need your help more than I do.”

“My Lady—“

“I’m fine! Where is Lady Sansa, Ser Meryn? Has she made it here safely?” You said as you stood up.

“I haven’t seen her, Lady Lannister,” Meryn said.

“Go out there and find her. Bring her here.”

He was about to speak when you heard Joffrey say, “Let them have her.”

“If she dies you’ll never get your Uncle Jaime back!” Tyrion said. He walked up to Trant. “Ser Meryn, take some men and go find the Stark girl.”

“I take my orders from the King!” Meryn spat. Tyrion turned to Joffrey, expecting him to say something, but Joffrey just got up and walked away.

“I’ll go talk to him,” you said.

“He listens to you. Go talk some sense into our nephew.”

You started walking to Joffrey when the doors opened with a crash. Spinning on your heel, you were prepared for the horde outside but all you saw was Sandor carrying Sansa. Talking to your nephew was pushed from your mind as you ran to the girl.

“The little bird’s bleeding,” Sandor said as you got to them.

“Sansa! Oh god’s.” You cupped her face in your hands and brushed away her tears. Sansa clung to you, scared out of her mind and as you ushered her away from the commotion, you turned to Sandor.

“Thank you for getting her back,” you said. Sandor said nothing back, but stood straighter.

“Well done, Clegane,” Tyrion said.

“I didn’t do it for you,” Sandor said. His eyes darted in your direction before he stalked off.

When you heard the bells, you knew the siege was happening. You were in your room and ran to the throne room just in time to see the tail end of Joffrey’s men leaving and Sansa walking back to her handmaiden, Shae.

“Sansa!” You said as you approached. “Why aren’t you in the holdfast?”

“The king wished for me to see him off before the battle,” Sansa said.

“I hope he wasn’t too much of an ass?” You said quietly. Sansa’s eyes widened and she shook her head.

“No, never.”

“It’s alright, love. I love my nephew, yes, but he can be such an ass at times even though I’ve tried talking to him about it.” You gave her a smile and kissed her cheek. “The two of you go on and get to the holdfast. I’ll be there shortly.”

“Where are you going?” Sansa asked, worry in her voice.

“To give my brother and nephew my luck for the upcoming battle. Now go!”

Shae took Sansa’s hand and started leading her away. You took a breath before walking outside to find your family.

---

When you got to where Tyrion and Joffrey were, they were arguing as usual.

“The two of you seem to never stop bickering,” you said. You were walking up the steps, and the men turned to look at you, surprise written all over their faces.

“Auntie? What are you doing here? You should be in the holdfast,” Joffrey said.

“For once we agree on something,” Tyrion said.

“I missed you in the throne room. I came to give the two of you luck for the battle.” You gave them a smile and took Joffrey’s hand.

“You will do well to listen to your uncle, my love. I know the two of you do not get along, but Uncle Tyrion is a smart man and he knows what he’s doing. Now stay safe, and come back to me and your mother, alright?”

Joffrey just nodded and you kissed his forehead. Then you turned to Tyrion.

“Stay safe, little brother,” you said. “I expect to see you for our weekly dinner tomorrow night as always.”

“Of course, dear sister.” Tyrion grabbed your hand and kissed it, giving you a small smile.

“And Ser Clegane, I expect for you to keep my family and yourself alive,” you said to Sandor.

“Yes, Lady [y/n].” Sandor bowed to you and you dipped your head in return.

Turing to face the water, you heard the sound of distant drums and saw the first of Stannis’ fleet appear.

“There they are,” Joffrey said.

“Archer’s to their marks!” Tyrion said. His order was relayed and he looked at you. “It’s time for you to get to the holdfast.”

“Yes, it is.” You took a breath and looked at your family. “I love you both. Come back unharmed.”

Tyrion nodded and pointed at a soldier. “See to it that my sister is escorted safely back to the holdfast and you will be paid your weight in gold.”

“Yes, milord. Right away.”

You started walking away, giving one last glance to the ships appearing one by one. Pushing your nerves aside, you made your way back to the Red Keep and into the holdfast. Once you got there, you thanked the soldier and opened the doors. Sansa saw you almost immediately and walked over to you.

“Has the fighting started yet?” She asked you.

“No, but I saw the fleet. It will start soon enough,” you said. You saw the fear in her eyes and pulled her close. “No harm will come to you, little one. If Stannis manages to win this battle, he will not hurt you.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“What I am about to say is not something that sounds nice. Do you want to hear it?”

“Yes.”

“You are a bargaining chip, little one. An ugly fact, but a fact nonetheless,” you said. “Stannis will want to make sure the North falls in line and will need you to help him.”

“Just like Cersei made me do for her.”

“Exactly like that.”

“Will you be hurt?” Worry was in her voice and you gave her a smile.

“I am a Lannister, love. Even though I haven’t done anything with the battle, I am still his enemy. I will be one of the first in here to die.”

“I won’t let that happen,” Sansa said. You kissed her forehead and took her hands.

“Stay strong for the people here. They won’t get it from my sister. Show them the queen you can be,” you whispered. Sansa nodded and you kissed her forehead again. Right then, Cersei came inside the holdfast with Tommen and he came running towards you.

“Auntie!” He said.

“My little love!” You swept him up in your arms and kissed your sisters cheek, the two of you walking to the back of the room.

“I heard you went to the battlements earlier,” Cersei said.

“I did. I missed our brother and your son so I went to them to give them my luck.”

“How kind of you.” There was a slight bite to her words but you ignored it.

The two of you sat down, Tommen sitting on your lap. Tommen fell asleep quickly and you pretended to do the same, listening to Cersei and Sansa talking. It was only when Lancel burst into the room did Tommen wake and you jerked with surprise at the noise. You listened as Lancel updated Cersei on the battle and as she told him to get Joffrey back inside the Red Keep.

When Lancel came back and told Cersei that all hope was lost because the soldiers saw Joffrey leaving, you had to hold back a laugh when Cersei pushed your cousin down and stormed out of the room, Tommen following her. Sansa then saw it fit to take your advice and calm the women, offering to sing a hymn with them.

“You must go,” Shae said to Sansa. “Run to your chamber and bar the door.”

“Come with me!” Sansa whispered.

“I have to say goodbye to someone. You need to run.”

“I’ll go with you,” you said. You locked eyes with Shae and she nodded.

“Come, Sansa. Let’s go.”

---

When you got to Sansa’s room, you made sure all the windows were shut as Sansa locked the door and brought a lantern over to her vanity.

“We’ll be safe here, love,” you said quietly. Sansa picked up a doll and you sat down.

“The ladies are starting to panic,” a voice said. You jumped from your seat and stood in front of Sansa, ready to take the brunt of an assault until you saw who had spoken.

“Seven hells,” you said, squeezing Sansa’s arm.

“What are you doing here?” Sansa asked him.

“Not going to be here for long. I’m leaving.”

“Where?” You said, approaching him.

“Some place that isn’t burning.” He looked at you and Sansa. “North, most likely.”

“What about the king?” Sansa said.

“He can die on his own, just fine.” Sandor took a drink of wine and stood up. “I can take you with me. Both of you. I can keep you safe.”

“I’ll be safe here,” Sansa said. “Stannis won’t hurt me.”

Sandor surged forward and Sansa flinched back. You stayed silent as Sandor went on about killers and when he was done, Sansa stood up straight and looked Sandor in the eyes.

“You won’t hurt me,” she said.

“No, little bird, I won’t hurt you.” Sandor looked at you and you shook your head.

“I can’t leave either,” you whispered. You saw his face fall for a split second before he turned away.

“Sandor, wait!” He stopped in his tracks, heart beating a mile a minute. That was the first time you had called him by his first name and he already loved the way it rolled off of your tongue. You walked up to him and put your hand on his arm.

“Can we speak outside?” You asked. He nodded and unlocked the door, stepping outside. You turned to Sansa and said, “I’ll be back in a minute, love. Don’t lock the door, we’ll be right outside.”

“Okay.”

You walked through the doorway and closed the door behind you before turning to look at Sandor.

“I can’t leave her by herself,” you said. “Besides Tyrion, I’m her only ally in this gods forsaken place and she needs me. She’s like a child to me.”

“I know,” Sandor said. He looked you in the eyes. “Keep her safe.”

“I will. You stay safe as well. My nephew won’t take your leaving kindly.”

“As you wish, Lady [y/n].”

You bit your lip and after a moment’s hesitation, surged forward to kiss Sandor’s cheek. He stood still in shock and stared at you as you went back inside Sansa’s room. The click of the lock spurred him into motion and Sandor left you and King’s Landing behind.

When you saw your brother step out of the carriage, you swayed slightly. Sansa steadied you and gave you a push.

“Tyrion!” You cried. Running toward your brother, you fell to your knees and embraced him tightly. Tears were running down your face and you felt him wipe them away.

“So you went to Winterfell when I told you to flee. How has that worked out for you?”

“Pretty well. Except for me losing my eye,” you said, laughing softly. “And I see that the rumors were true. You’re the Hand of the Queen.”

“I am.”

“Lord Tyrion, who is this?” You heard the Queen say.

“Your grace, this is my other sister. Lady [y/n],” Tyrion said. He kissed your cheek and the two of you stood up.

“Forgive me, your grace,” you said. “I did not mean to interrupt the formalities.”

“It is quite alright. It’s nice to finally meet you. You’re one of the few people Lord Tyrion speaks highly of, Lady [y/n].”

“I’m flattered, your grace,” you said. Bowing slightly, you looked at Daenerys. “If you’ll excuse me, I should get back to Lady Stark.”

“Of course.”

You turned and returned to your place next to Sansa and watched as they interacted for the first time. What you didn’t see was Sandor riding in, but he saw you.

You were radiant in his eyes, standing there. You didn’t look like the lady he had left behind in King’s Landing. There was an air of confidence around you that you didn’t have before, standing straight up with a sword at your hip and a dangerous glint in your eye. Sandor was so distracted by you, he didn’t realize someone had grabbed his horses reigns until they started speaking to him.

“Milord, I can take your horse to the stables for you,” the man said.

“I’m no lord,” Sandor said gruffly as he dismounted his horse.

“I can still take your horse for you, if you’d like.”

Sandor grunted as a reply, but let the man take his horse anyways. He didn’t really care what happened to the horse, if he was being completely honest. All he could focus on was you.

---

At the meeting, you finally saw Sandor Clegane. You were sitting next to Bran and Sandor was standing at the back of the room. The two of you had made eye contact and you gave him a smile, tilting your head in greeting. He did the same and you turned your attention to the meeting going on.

Lord Umber had just left and now Lyanna Mormont was talking to Jon. You loved how sassy she was and so did almost everyone else. Then, Tyrion started talking.

“If anyone survives the war to come, we’ll have Jon Snow to thank,” Tyrion said. “Thanks to his courage, we have brought with us the greatest army the world has ever seen. We have two full-grown dragons. And soon, the Lannister army will march North to join our cause.”

You sat straighter at those words and looked at Sansa, brows furrowed. That couldn’t be true. Cersei would never join forces with the Starks and the last Targaryen, least of all the two people in the world she despised the most: you and Tyrion. Tyrion kept talking but you weren’t paying attention anymore. You were too busy looking around the room, gauging the people’s reactions.

Lady Mormont was seething in her seat, Royce was shaking his head in disbelief, and everyone else was trying to speak all at once. You made eye contact with Sandor and cocked your head to the side, silently asking if it was true. He nodded and you sat back in your seat, mind running a mile a minute.

The meeting was over soon after that bomb was dropped on you. You kissed Sansa’s cheek before walking to the back of the room and stopping right in front of Sandor.

“Sandor,” you said, looking up at him.

“Lady [y/n],” he said, bowing slightly.

“Just [y/n]’s fine. Don’t feel much like a lady nowadays.” You laughed and Sandor scoffed lightly.

“You serving the Little Bird now?”

“In a sense. Brienne and I both protect her but I’m also protecting her little brother, Bran. I also give her advice when needed,” you said. “It’s not what my father had in mind when he taught me war tactics and probably not what my brothers thought would happen when I started training with a sword.”

“You seem happy,” Sandor said.

“I am. It’s been a long road to travel, but I’m glad that I got to Winterfell in one piece. Well, mostly.” You let out another laugh, Sandor frowning.

“When did that happen?”

“I was almost at Winterfell when I ran into Brienne and Podrick. Pod recognized me and convinced Brienne to let me tag along. Not long after, we found Sansa and Theon being attacked by some of the Bolton men. One of them got my eye but I took his life.” You shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly but Sandor stayed quiet and let you explain how you had gotten to stand by the Starks side.

He heard all of what you said, but couldn’t stop staring at you. He had known you were alive due to hearing it come from Jon’s and Tyrion’s mouths but seeing you here, in the flesh, made his brain stop working. He short circuited even more when you told him you had helped out with the Battle of the Bastards, but calmed down when you said it was just with the strategy.

“I’ll also be fighting the dead when they arrive.” You looked at Sandor and found him staring back at you, face unreadable. “Sandor?”

“You’re what?”

“Fighting in the Great War. I’d planned on it before Cersei said she was going to help us and I’m still going to now. Even if I don’t think she’s actually going to send anyone to help. My sister only loved five people in this world and now it’s down to one.” You were about to continue, but someone came up to you and said that Sansa needed you.

“I’m sorry, Sandor. This conversation will have to be continued later. I hope you find your stay in Winterfell better than the last.” Tilting your head slightly, you walked away.

Sandor watched you go and rubbed is face in irritation. He didn’t want you to fight, especially since he’s seen them up close, but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to stop you. Sighing to himself, Sandor started walking deeper into the castle, mind running all over the place.

The one time Sandor Clegane kissed you

The dead were here and no matter how much you thought you were, you weren’t ready. You were up in the battlements with Sansa and Arya, watching the Dothraki being obliterated by the Night King’s army and to say you were scared would be an understatement. When Sansa went down into the crypts, you stayed up top with Arya and shot arrow after arrow at the dead.

The dragons were impressive but when the cold winds came whipping through Winterfell and obscured them and everything around you, you went down off of the battlements to join your brother Jaime, helping with the retreat. Once the trench was lit, you took a second to breathe. This small moment would allow who was left to regroup and make sure they were still equipped to fight the battle.

“You should get to the crypts, [y/n],” Jaime said. You glared at him and he flinched slightly.

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m perfectly able to fight, just the same as you.”

“I just don’t want you to die!”

“No one here wants to die, Jaime. But I’d rather die here, defending everyone, and not run away like a coward,” you said. You turned and grabbed his arm. “I’m not leaving. I’m going to fight by your side, okay?”

“Alright.” Jaime kissed your cheek just as soldiers started yelling.

“Man the walls!” Was all you heard.

Sharing a look with your brother, the two of you ran up to the battlements, Jaime relieving the archers and you sending them up higher. You sheathed your sword and took out your Dragonglass knife, readying it for when the Wights came over the walls. Jumping up and down slightly, the first Wight came and you stabbed it in the head.

---

Sandor was faring no better than anyone else. All he could see was fire and all he could think about was you. The only thing that took his mind off of you was Arya. Seeing her in danger spurred him into motion and he found himself running through the halls of Winterfell to get her to safety.

---

When the dead started rising again, you felt your heart drop. You were in the courtyard with Jaime and you blindly grabbed his hand. He squeezed it and you looked at him, fear all over your face.

“Fight till our last,” you said. Jaime nodded.

“Fight till our last.”

You were soon joined by Brienne and Podrick, the four of you fighting off the new dead with everything you had. Blood was flying everywhere, the sounds of fighting and your own heart beating were the only sounds you could hear. You only stopped fighting when the Wight you were fighting dropped without anyone harming it. Exhausted, you stumbled back, falling against Jaime.

“We’ve won?” You said, breathing heavily.

“I think so,” Jaime said back. You let out a small laugh and turned to embrace your brother. He hugged back and after you let go, you saw Sandor walking towards you.

“Oh thank the gods! You’re alright!” You said, walking towards him as well.

There was a smile on your face and before you knew it, Sandor had swept you into his arms and was kissing you like he was never going to see you again. After a moment, you started kissing back, the initial surprise over. When Sandor felt you reciprocating, he snaked one hand down to your waist and the other to your cheek.

Sandor stopped the kiss and put his forehead to yours, breathing deeply. Your eyes were still closed and when you felt him start to move away, you grabbed his arms and stopped him.

“[Y/n], I—“

“I love you,” you blurted, interrupting him.

“What?” He had a look of bewilderment on his face and you giggled.

“I love you, Sandor Clegane. I have for a long time.”

He said nothing and pulled you in for another kiss. You could feel the smile on his face and you couldn’t keep one off of yours either.

“I love you too,” Sandor muttered.

304 notes · View notes

chaneajoyyy · 3 years

Note

Who’s writing new BP fics? It’s feeling kinda dry out here

Oh you gotta keep looking cause they out here!!!

NEW/NEW-ISH BP FICS

- winter wonderland series (25 days of christmas challenge), Chunk series (updated)- @ghostfacekill-monger

- you better watch out series (25 days of christmas challenge), baby daddy series- @teakturn

- couple’s getaway series, message therapist erik, erik and you have relationship issues that need to be resolved, incubus erik x reader series, gamer erik humiliates his girl, christmas wishes & mistletoe kisses series, all vampire eriks stories, drug dealer erik gets ino an entaglement with a married woman series, erik teaching his daughter how to love her dark skin, assassin erik and his girl london make up for lost time- @nahimjustfeelingit-writes

- all i want series- @thadelightfulone

- the jabari that stole christmas, misfit wakandans, er*k in a box, t’challa’s 12 days of christmas, the jabari-cracker, christmas even will find erik, the coffee prince series (updated), song of stevens (not new but do read), will the bell ring? (updated)- @eerythingisshaka

- chrismasing with you- @ceeverse

- mama is wild, how he acts when he’s sick: m’baku “mama’s other baby’ jabari, peaches, how he acts whe he’s sick: erik “i can do it myself” stevens, how he acts when he’s sick: t’challa i’m fine” udaku, final decision, body pillow, the most dangerous game- @akimi-youngblood

- his majesty, my king series; he chosen bride, a jabari wedding (not so new but do read), he wasn’t mad enough for me, clean-up woman, i wish you would, mistletoe series, dadmonger series- @snowbaku

- what if...?, without question, polaroids, the temple series, queen shuri, wh you are series- @tchallasbabymama

- biggest puddle ever, crab legs, play fighting, the fight, let me tell you a story, stop, got it bad, what would you do series, sugar babe series, poetic justice, messing w/ erik while he’s playing the game, erik had a reputation of being a fuckboy. tha meant you had to be careful around him. guard your heart. it was a solid plan until he came in and ruined all your plans- @dreamingofmilk

- our christmas, how to feel, warm colors series (not so new but do read), thanksgiving w/ mr. stevens, valentine’s gumbo (sequel to thankgiving with mr. stevens)- @mermaidchansons

- she likes me, huh? nuh uh, cute enough to eat, screams in the night series (updated), open up, autumn leave & cookie thieves, one way or another, mr. telephone series, you ain’t hear that?- @supersizemeplz (check masterlist)

- anniversary blues, the chosen one series (updated), the sweetest thing series, in the light series- @devnicolee

- the arrival series, boxer!baku series (updated), fireflies and foot races, sessions- @muse-of-mbaku

- 85 “you can’t cum unless i say so” & 89 “you’re drooling. you really don’t deserve it though, do you?”, seventy-three, “29, 75 & 82″, “5, 13, & 69″- @marvelmaree

- subconscious- @freddiefcknmercury

- shameful series- @iwrite4poc

- only forever series, what lies beneath series,bunme takes new york (part of space between series)- @dramaqueeenamby

- letters for my love series, just for this moment series, she’s mine series, abiona au series- @sarcastic-sunshines

- redemption series (updated), starlight series, dress up- @airis-paris14

- new start series (with “reader meets erik who is a single father”), round 2 series, reader sleeping over a erik’s, “erik and reader are opposites- like she’s so nice, calm and soft, and erik is mean... as always and his family is so confused on how they’re dating”, imagine where erik and the reader has heir firs date and when he get home he’s super excited and tell his friends how happy and in love he is?, erik with goofy reader on a mission, reader catching erik using her expensice skincare products afer she told him it’s off limit, hug time, erik ghosting after a fight with his gf & she hears he’s out acting single so she decide she’s single too. but he shows up & all like “who said we broke up?”, reader is not answering her phone and erik is worried/irrirated because the day before he was mean to her and she left his house crying?, an imagine where erik finding out the reader is powerful (like a mutant), erik & mbaku fighting over the reader, found you series, erik helping his need tomboy bff get a makeover & he starts to get jealous of how much attention she starts to get from other guys, vulnerable soft erik where he and the reader get into an argument and later that night he’s trying to sleep but can’t because she’s refusing to come to bed with him and he has to be vulnerable with her and tells her “you know i can’t sleep without you”?, “short imagine or headcanon ha erik finds out his girlfriend has more body’s then him or his a mafia leader, something between those lines. but instead of being upset for her not telling him he’s actually cool with it”, erik comforting the reader after finding out she lost a loved one and he had a good day, reader learns she’s pregnant and comes up with a creative way to tell erik , erik and the reader are set up on a blind date by mutual friends, “reader is studying for her upcoming test and she is frustrated with the amount of studying she has to do. erik notices she has been studying for a long time, and tries to do everything to relax her mind”, erik takes reader to wakanda for the first time, erik sees his girl still sleep with a stuffed animal and by kinda makes fun of her but when she puts it up he sees she struggles withouth it?, “imagine with erik inspired by the somg caretaker by dram and sza, like maybe the reader is feeling a bit ill/nauseous and erik to take care of her”, diaper change, sofboi erik where he asks the reader to marry him, hc of erik being jealous of his girl is too close to t’challa? always texting/wanting to hang out when they visit, back to you series, readering driving erik nuts with cravings & mood swings. ex: interrupting his sleep for food runs only to say she doesn’t want that anymore when he returns & demand something else, “ whatever you’re trying to butter me up for, the answer is no”?, how did he meet his love?, life together, your first time, hurting, fears, sick day, jealous series, when you’re sick, night fights, two lines, opening up, newborn, comfort, some love, insecure, first steps, it’s time series, cool down time, first day back- @killmongerdrabbles

- back & forth- @supremethunda

- baby mama series, again, move, guess, night, nsfw alphabet, bow- @woahitslucyylu

- reactions o their girl’s wap (with erik), erik and reader being petty in the house after an argument- @tastingmellow

- next lifetime series, days off with erik, girls trip series (updated),the way you make me feel- @theficplug

- only then am i human series,a little vacation- @opalsandlace

-faded series, waves series, concrete cowboys series, black boys bloom thors first series (volume 3)- @uzumaki-rebellion

- black tie event- @laketaj24

- genuine, numb- @taterfics

- city boy and his country girl series, wake up, meet the furys- @blackmissfrizzle

- come thru, this lil’ game we play- @writetimes

- in between the lines series- @melodyofmbaku

- him, her and us series; conversations and coffee trips series, dancing around each oher series, mrs., you again series, where are we now?, cold coffee, here we are again series, summer love (could be any of the marvel men including t’challa); love, apps, and attitudes series; give me a reason (search for t’challa x reader)- @iliketowrite1996

- homewrecker series (updated), family reunion- @shaekingshitup

- unexpected things happen in the clucky’s drive-thru, where you going: a quarantine quickie, halloween, delicate series, the best man- @majesticbrownjawn

- i like tha series (updated), shea butter (baby) series @nachtaiwrites

- the spririt of christmas, dentist series (updated), waiting to get home, best friends series, line love series, hell loves satin: tales of a mascochist, tattoo party- @hearteyes-for-killmonger

- uncharted series (updated), metamorphasis series, the remodel series, the boy is mine series (collab with @dashhoney25), sweet heat, quarantine bae, throttle, sugar, toxic, fair is fair, work boo (updated)- @soufcakmistress

- caught up series- @twistedcharismaaa

- homebody series- @truglori

- roadtrip series- @cecereads209

- lights out, a better man- @reelwriter19

- you mean it? series, haunted series- @heykillmongerluhme

- end in flames series, my health- @bvlckgirlmvgix (not so new but do check out!)

***PLEASE HIT ME UP TO ADD YOUR STORIES!!!***

#the bp plug #bp librarian at your service #let’s chat #sip tea #talk fanfiction #black panther fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #new/new-ish bp fics #anonny asks

168 notes · View notes

howlingday · 3 years

Note

nora the arc au) being in beacon two years early is one thing, it happens from time to time. but nora and jaune are officially not part of beacon but it's protectors lord and lady arc.

turns out nora's really good at being a queen of a castle. with her boundless energy and off the wall imagination she soon has the tower turning a profit due to her ideas on what she calls a food forest (nora: it's really simple jaune-jaune I made a forest that is 100% edible ... except the workers, don't eat the workers glynda might not let us borrow any more students if we do)

meanwhile jaune makes a simple rule known to the upper class of vale. you can insult him all you like, but say something about nora and he will end your entire noble house and laugh as your world crumbles around you.

... so things are going great for the new lord and lady protector of house arc (hope you have fun with evil jaune. letting the guy cut loose is always fun for me)

Meanwhile, in an Alternate Universe...

Jaune sat upon his throne, yawning as more bootlickers and doormats entered, seeking political support and favors, knowing full well his task was the protection of Beacon. Nothing more, nothing less. He eyed the crowd, noting their range from the very old to the very thin to the very lame. Each was a servant of another, sent to suck up for another's sake.

"Alright, people, you know the drill," Cardin Winchester shouted to the crowd, "line up in alphabetical order, and Lord Arc will see to your request." Jaune nodded for Cardin to step back. He didn't care for him at first, but after he proved himself a capable leader and a trustworthy ally, Jaune grew to respect the young man.

He almost pitied the rest of his team was assigned to his wife today.

The first was an elderly man speaking on behalf of some wealthy bank owner in Vale, asking for his support in funding their security. When Jaune asked where Beacon fit into this, the poor man didn't have an answer. Well, not an answer that satisfied him.

Next was a young man half his age. He was sent on behalf of his mother's bakery, asking for more time for the lady's Sunday order. When asked why, the boy responded his sister fell ill. When asked how the boy arrived, he replied he had to sneak onto the back of a carriage. He noticed one of the sycophants in the back grousing something along the lines of, 'I knew it!' Jaune waved the boy closer and hand handed the boy a small pouch of Lien. He then told him to find the Lady of the Tower, possibly in the Garden. The boy ran off, his face alight.

Jaune's smile lasted a whole ten seconds until the next servant came forward and opened his trap. Why did he have to conduct business after lunch?

The Garden was a vast forest tended to by the Lady of the Tower, Nora Arc. She was, in a manner of speaking, an eccentric woman. She suggested creating a hybrid of Forever Fall's sap trees crossed with Mistralian sweetbark trees.

After two months of research, the first row was planted, and the following summer, Forever Sweet sap was made into candies and used as ingredients in Vale's countless bakeries.

Nora smelled the spring flowers as she laid against her favorite tree. Russell, Dove, and Lark sat nearby, playing cards. Russell was winning, resulting in Dove and Lark to gang up on him. When Dove or Lark won, they were assumed to be cheating as well, and thus a new truce would be born of the betrayal. Nora didn't care, so long as she wasn't disturbed.

"Hey!" Lark called out. Nora opened an eye and saw a little boy running to her. Lark leveled his weapon. "Halt!"

"Put that thing down, Lunk!" Nora chided. "He's just a boy."

As Lark lowered his weapon with a blush, the boy stopped in front of Nora. "M'Lady," the boy squealed, "I 'ave ba' news fo' ya."

"Oh, why do the cute ones always bring bad news?"

"My sista' too' ill, an' we won' ma' thi' Sun'ay su'uh!"

"Hm, that is bad news." Nora hummed in thought, before snapping her finger. "Did my husband send you?" The boy nodded, and held up a small pouch. Nora cooed. "Oh, he's always so good with children. He's so kind and sweet." Nora stood up, and extended her hand. "Come with me; we'll help you get home, right, boys?" The three murmured in hesitant agreement. "I'll make you a deal: you go home and help your mommy take care of your sister, and I'll only ask for twice my usual sweets next Sunday, and then you can have the next Sunday off."

The boy took her hand. "Thank'u, m'lady! You're too kin'!"

"No, my husband is the one who's too kind. Why, I doubt he could harm a living soul if he tried. That is the man I married; the Lord of the Watchtower, Jaune Arc the Kind!"

Blood dripped down Jaune's elbow as he held the beaten man by his jaw. People were frightened, screams muffled by others who knew well to not escalate the situation further. Cardin stood close, eyeing the crowd for any further agression.

Jaune breathed to calm himself. Even he prayed this would work to soothe himself. He looked at the man again; he was a faunus, with black rabbit ears. On the ground was the knife he held, untouched by blood. Based on the broken mask on his face, the man was a member of the White Fang.

"Who sent you?" Jaune asked.

"Y-Your mother." Jaune sighed. He shifted his hands, freeing his right and using his left to grab the man's collar. Jaune raised his fist.

"Who are you?"

"We are the price of the Faunus Wars." Jaune gritted his teeth. He struck him once with his right, striking his cheek. The man spit out teeth.

"The Faunus Wars ended over a century ago. I want a name!"

"Nora Valkyrie." Jaune froze. Cardin froze. Everyone froze with bated breath. Anyone who knew Lord Jaune Arc knew a statement using his wife's name ended one of two ways.

Jaune loosed a breath. "I said-"

A raspy chuckle interrupted him. "She's such a good, little whore, ain't-"

Nora returned to the throne room from the stables, where she saw off the boy and his two bodyguards. She was accompanied by the remaining Russell, who quickly reunited with his team leader.

Cardin's armored breastplate was caked in blood. He also had a black eye, with a bruise on his accompanying cheek. He waved it off as if it were nothing.

The guests of the court left, business concluded for the day. Quite early as well. Jaune sat slumped in his chair.

"Jaune?" Nora inquired. "Are you okay?"

Jaune waved at the issue with his bloodied hand. His chest-plate and entire torso was more blood than garment. There were servants scrubbing blood around him.

"What happened?" Nora drew closer.

"It's nothing to worry about, Nora, I-"

A slap thundered in the throne room. All eyes fell on the Lord and Lady of the Tower. The Lord in question had a red-mark on his face, and his head was turned as though struck by a hammer. The Lady stood over him, arm extended as she huffed. She then grabbed him by his collar.

"What?!" She roared in his face, hers red as a tomato. "Happened?!"

"I killed a man, my Lady."

"Why?!" Her husband did not answer. She turned to Cardin. "Winchester! Who died?! Who was this man?!"

Cardin gulped before speaking. "We didn't know his name, but he was a White Fang assassin. He attacked Lord Arc."

"So you killed a man, a Faunus no less, because you were about to be assassinated?" Nora turned her frustration back to her husband. "Or am I missing something?"

"He insulted you." Nora dropped him.

"Everyone out of the throne room!" She screeched. Everyone slowly made their way out. "Now!"

The throne room was empty in record time. Nora huffed, facing away from Jaune. "So, what now?" Jaune didn't respond. Nora turned to him again. "Well?"

"I don't know." Jaune replied. "Someone tried to kill me. Used your name to provoke me. I just don't understand why."

"Yes, you do." Nora said. She stepped forward, and sat on her husband's lap. She stroked his hair, and spoke softly. "Who attacked you?"

"The White Fang." Jaune replied. He held her close and inhaled her scent. "Those terrorists never liked humans, but they usually leave us alone. Why now, and why just one man?"

Nora brought his head up and kissed his forehead. "You know why." She trailed down. "What makes him different from everyone else?"

"He was a Faunus." Jaune replied, kissing her lips. He pressed himself further in, roaming her body with his hands. "People won't see a murder, they'll see a hate crime."

"Exactly." Nora pulled from the kiss to chew on his lower lip. She stopped and started panting. "And who has the most to lose from this?" Jaune opened his mouth, but Nora put a finger to his lips. "Shh... Not here. We'll continue this upstairs. For now..." Nora stood up and straightened herself. "Guards!" Guards arrived posthaste. "Send word to Beacon, The Watchtower will be closed to the public. Especially the Faunus." The guards were hesitant until Nora waved them away.

"Actively banning Faunus?" Jaune asked. "Is that wise?"

"You didn't stop me, did you?"

"No." Jaune replied. "No, I didn't. If the White Fang was to wage war against us, then we'll give them a war." Jaune rose from his throne. "But first," he grabbed his wife from behind and sucked upon her neck, "I need you to stop clouding my mind."

Nora stepped away, leading Jaune upstairs with a giggle. "Then come upstairs, my Lord, so we can clear your mind."

Russell and Cardin sat outside the Tower. "So, uh," Russell began, "are we waiting for the other two?"

Cardin nodded. "And for this to heal." He pointed to his eye, with was less bruised. "I'm not getting Lord Arc in more trouble than he already is."

#rwby #jaune arc #nora’s arc #nora the arc au #nora valkyrie #cardin winchester #lark #russell thrush #dove #rwby au

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atths--twice · 3 years

Text

Wednesday Night at the Fluff and Fold

Had an idea for a little “on the run” story the other day. Thus this little story was born. Hope you enjoy! ❤️

Late on a hot summer night, while on the run, Scully and Mulder spend some time in a small town laundromat.

September 2003

Juliette, Georgia

10:00 p.m.

There was an odd feeling of calm to pairing socks, seeing them piling up beside the other clothes, everything organized into neat stacks.

Scully smiled as she remembered helping her mother fold clothes when she was younger, loving the feel of them when they were warm from the dryer, or even helping to take them from a clothesline. Sheets were always her favorite, lifting her side up as high as she could, her mother smiling as she held tight to the other end. The sound of the snap of the fabric, the perfect fold, meeting in the middle to hand it off to her mother… she loved it all.

Socks were saved for her to do on her own, large piles of them from the whole family, left to her to sort like a puzzle. She liked being able to differentiate between them, giving the right socks to the right people, proud that she never got it wrong.

As an adult, she found that same pride in the tidiness of her own home; the dishes always washed and put away in their place, the pictures hung to her taste, her clothes always organized, going through them often and getting rid of any taking up unwanted space.

Space, she thought with a snort. That’s definitely something we are lacking these days.

Folding one of Mulder’s t-shirts, she placed it on top of his pile. One of her shirts was next and she placed it on her own pile with a sigh. Turning around, she looked at the dryer in front of her and saw it still had twenty minutes left before the cycle would be complete. Looking around at the empty laundromat, she sighed again.

Fanning herself, she lifted her long hair off of her sweaty neck. The weight of it made her think again of cutting it short like she’d had it in the past. Instead, she took the rubber band from her wrist and tied it up into a messy bun, a few pieces falling down and brushing her face. As it did, she sighed at the dark brown, nearly black color of it.

She’d had it dyed for months now, but she was still taken aback by it when her thoughts were elsewhere and it suddenly fell into her view. She did not mind it, but it was a drastic difference from her normal red.

The door to the laundromat opened and Mulder walked in with a plastic bag in each hand.. Even in khaki shorts, a black tank top, and flip flops, she could see he was just as warm as she was, beads of perspiration dotting his forehead.

“God, it’s like walking through numerous layers of warm wet paper towels. I’m sweating like crazy.”

“It’s not much cooler in here,” she said with a gesture toward the dryers. “Thankfully it’s the last load.”

“Should I get the bags from the car?” he asked, setting the plastic bags down on the counter beside the piles of folded clothes.

“Nah. Might as well wait until those are done and folded.” He nodded and jumped up to sit next to the bags, smiling at her as he did. She let out a deep breath as she glanced at the dryer timer again.

Eighteen minutes until they would pack up and head away from this small town, all of their clothes clean, for a while at least.

It had been nearly a year and a half since they had been on the run, staying in countless motels, trailers, tents, the car itself, and even once a teepee, which they had both found highly offensive, especially after seeing the decor. But it had been cold and the place warm, so they had stayed for a night before leaving the next morning

In that time, a system had been created. They had bought large plastic totes and kept everything they needed inside of them: sleeping bags, pillows, extra blankets, two tents, tarps, camping cooking supplies, some food- but not much as they did not want to attract any unwanted animals.

They also had two duffel bags which held all of the clothes they owned, rotating them by need and season.

As it was the tailend of a very warm summer, the warmer clothes had been stored in one of the totes, not needed for a few more months. The two duffel bags were now full of shorts, tank tops, shirts, and even a few sundresses, the breeze welcome as it cooled her everywhere.

The bags also held their simple toiletries inside plastic zippered bags. It was organized and fit just so in the car, allowing them to grab whatever was needed quickly. Every item was replaceable and held no sentimental value, easily able to be left behind if the situation called for it.

Clothes were worn until only one outfit remained, the dirty clothes placed in trash bags. All laundry was done at one time, visiting laundromats late at night, or any motel with on-site laundry service. The clean clothes were then put back into the duffel bags, the trash bags slipped into the totes, ready to be refilled.

It was a system that worked well, keeping them away from crowds of people, Mulder remaining safe and relatively unseen.

Sighing again, she shook her head and glanced at the bags he had brought in with him.

“So, what have you got there?” she asked with a smile, one of the bags smelling of something delicious and causing her stomach to growl.

“Well,” he said, opening the bag and removing take out containers, handing one to her. “The Whistle Stop Café is open late tonight for a summer barbecue-”

“Is it?” she said, looking at her food cautiously and he laughed.

“Pork, not human,” he assured her with another chuckle. “Someone in front of me made that joke and the woman serving food gave him such a look, I knew better than to make the same mistake.”

“Can’t really blame people when it’s heavily implied in the Fried Green Tomatoes movie and in the book… well…” She raised her eyebrows and opened the container, sniffing the delicious aroma of barbecued pork, her mouth watering.

“I also got mashed potatoes and biscuits. Homemade biscuits that I ate one of on the way over here because they had only just cooled enough to be served when I ordered them. Try one of those first.” He handed her one and he nodded encouragingly.

Taking it from him, she took a bite and then moaned as the sweet taste of butter hit her tongue. He nodded again with a smile as she took another bite and he took out utensils and napkins. She pushed herself up to sit beside him, her legs swinging as they ate, the dryer continuing to tumble the last of their clothes, both of them hot, sweaty, and sticky.

As they finished eating, the dryer stopped and while he cleaned up their food and trash, she took out the clothes, walking them to the counter to be folded. He came back in with the duffel bags, setting them on the empty counter, and began helping her fold the clothes.

In no time, they were filling the duffel bags, everything once more arranged and in order. She threw out the dryer sheets she had used and picked up the now empty trash bags, ready to put them back into the totes in the car.

“What’s in this bag?” she asked and he nodded at her to open it. When she did, she smiled, finding it full of paperbacks.

“I found a used bookstore and came back to the car, taking out the ones you’d wanted to swap if we found one. I could only find up to “O,” but maybe we’ll get lucky at the next place and find “P” and “Q.””

“There’s a “Q”? I didn’t know,” she murmured and he nodded as she looked down at the books.

They had stayed at a cabin in March and the sparse amount of books available had led to her reading ones she would normally have passed over. Particularly, a series of detective novels, the titles of each one beginning with a different letter of the alphabet.

Finding that she enjoyed them, when they had been in another town, she had popped into a used bookstore, finding the next in the “alphabet series” by Sue Grafton. She had loved them all, a distraction from their own lives for a little while. It had been some time since she had finished, and even reread the last few, holding onto them to trade in for new ones, and she was happy he had found them.

“Thank you,” she said softly, looking at “L” is for Lawless and “M” is for Malice. “I know it’s not my usual reading material…”

“Scully, there isn’t much that is usual right now.” He smiled at her and shrugged. “You enjoy them. I do too. Especially when you read them aloud and we try to figure out the ending.” She nodded with a smile and ran her fingers across the titles.

“Thank you,” she said again, lifting her head to look at him. He smiled with a nod and picked up one of the duffel bags, kissing her as he did.

“You’re welcome,” he whispered against her lips, reaching for the next duffel bag.

She put the books back inside the plastic bag and picked up their black canvas backpack. Everything else could be left behind and abandoned at a moment's notice, but not the backpack. It held everything of importance inside of it and was never far from sight.

One last look around, making sure they had everything, they walked out into the muggy and sticky Georgia night. Bags were placed back into the car and then bottles of water were taken from the totes and carried to the front seat.

Mulder turned on the car, blasting the air conditioning as they both sat, the warm air gradually becoming cooler. She closed her eyes as she twisted her head and leaned forward, letting the cool air hit the back of her neck.

“What were we thinking, huh? Coming to the south in the summer? Should have stayed up north,” Mulder said with a deep sigh and she smiled.

“It’s summer, Mulder. It’s hot everywhere.”

“Hmm. Not moist hot though. I feel… well… it’s not the best situation in my southern region either.” She laughed and opened her eyes, looking at him as he raised his eyebrows with a shake of his head.

“How does a cold shower sound?”

“Make it lukewarm, and not a solo one, and you’ve got yourself a deal,” he said with a smile and she tilted her head.

“You’re asking me to join you even after you’ve so eloquently divulged a bad case of swamp ass?” She raised her eyebrows at him, a half smile on her face, and he nodded enthusiastically.

“Absolutely. I’m sure you could do with a…”

“Yes?” she asked, her eyebrows raising higher, waiting to see how big of a hole he would dig himself into.

“Well…” He shrugged and smiled, the one that made her heart race. Innocent and sweet, with an air of mischief hiding behind it. “A nice refreshing shower after standing in that warm laundromat for so long.”

“Mmhmm,” she hummed, licking her lips and his eyes followed its path across them.

“And if it leads to some sex… well…” He shrugged again and put the car in gear, looking around before he backed up and out of the parking spot, continuing out of the parking lot. “At least we’ll get clean as we’re being dirty.” She laughed and nodded, already anticipating the feel of the water cooling and cleansing her sweaty body, his hands on her wet and slippery skin making her ache with need.

He grinned at her as they pulled up to a stop sign by the Whistle Stop Café. People were still there enjoying the barbecue, music playing and laughter ringing out into the night. They drove past the now closed used bookstore and she smiled, remembering the books waiting to be read. Looking at him, she smiled and he winked as he caught her eye.

“A refreshing shower sounds wonderful.”

“And the sex?” he asked, stopping at a light and staring at her, waggling his eyebrows.

“Sounds orgasmic,” she said in a low voice and he growled, stepping on the gas as soon as the light was green, hurrying out of town as she laughed happily.

#The X Files #xf fanfic #msr #memories #on the run #doing laundry #hot weather #gifts of surprise #happy

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pollylynn · 3 years

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Title: Unexcogitable WC: 2000 Episode: Watershed (5 x 24)

There’s a little mystery to solve when he emerges from the lost weekend—the lost . . . however many days it’s been since he slammed himself into the high gear necessary to not just finish Deadly Heat, but to finish finish it. And he has been determined to finish finish it: is crossed, ts dotted, and every sentence Gina-proofed.

He wants a summer with her. A normal-for-them, no suspension, no secret relationship, no . . . immediate threat of a Bracken-sent assassin. There’ll be book tour stuff, of course. He’ll be in and out of the city. But he’s gotten good at coaxing her away for two days her, three days there. He has high hopes for on-the-road summer adventures with Kate.

But first there is a mystery to solve, almost right when he emerges.

He is rank. He has jeans and a shirt with buttons that’s deeply unfamiliar to him. He’s clutching potential cover art, and he cannot imagine where it came from. So it’s definitely been more than a lost weekend. None of that is the mystery, though. That's all part of high gear. It’s part of him being head down and dedicated to finish finishing the book.

The mystery is Kate related. There’s a text on his phone. When he pulls himself out of the Costa Rica funk—the funk of no one caring how many poisonous things and seasonally aggressive murder birds his daughter might encounter—he has a body drop text. It’s old, but not that old, and it’s not from her. He can tell at a glance from the random capitalization and arbitrarily missing letters that it’s from Esposito, and that’s odd enough to warrant calling her, even though he’s pretty sure he has already called . . . a lot.

Some number of minutes ago—or could it have been hours?—he remembers that he called to leave an almost certainly incoherent victory message as he’d hit save on his final final draft. And then . . . didn’t he call her to ask if he’d already called her? He’s more or less certain he called again, or maybe again again, to confess that he still had acknowledgments to write. And then one more time to ask in one high-anxiety run-on sentence if he thought it was okay to change his book jacket bio to say that he lives in New York City with his daughter, his mother, and his lady love, who wishes to remain mysterious .

But even though that’s all a lot, Esposito being the one to text definitely warrants one more call, doesn’t it? He decides it does. He’s stripping off his rank clothes and swapping the phone from hand to hand as it rings on speaker, as he tries to decide if a shower will suffice for detoxifying him, or if he might need some kind of industrial dunking combined with medical-grade abrasives.

The phone juggling is unnecessary. It’s five rings to voicemail again. It’s sticking his head out of the shower every twenty-two seconds, because he’s pretty sure he heard it ring, and why has in’t rung? But it hasn’t rung. It doesn’t ring, even though he’s washed and dressed and on his way. And that’s a bit of mystery.

It’s a bit more of a mystery when she shows up late and disheveled, when she looks as if she’s been caught in the act. Of what, he doesn’t know, and that’s cause for consternation. It’s cause for his guilt reflex to kick in. He can be a beast when he’s kicked it into high gear. He can be a boor and a bore and all kinds of unpleasant things starting with all the letters of the alphabet, so he wonders if he’s done something or if he’s failed to do something. He wonders if he’s managed to get on her nerves to the point that the only thing for it, apparently, is for her to take one of her psychotically long runs, where time and space fall away.

He looks her up and down. He takes in the blazer she’s still trying to button and the comparative disarray of her still-perfect hair. He is not getting psychotic-run vibe off her. He’s not sure what vibe he’s getting off her, and that calls for investigation

Or maybe it doesn’t call for investigation? Maybe it calls for space. Maybe it calls for butting out. Maybe it’s him or not him, and maybe she’s been to see Burke.

He wishes the prospect didn’t terrify him. It’s a problem that the prospect terrifies him, and he knows that. He kicks himself for it every time the name comes up, every time he over-the-shoulder snoops an entry in the calendar on her phone.

He wishes that he could get his brain to think of it as her going to her therapist, not him driving her to see a therapist. But he’s kind of not there. He’s kind of caught up in the little mysteries of what she’s thinking, feeling, considering at every second, and he’s kind of quite problematically caught up in the idea that she wouldn’t need a therapist if he didn’t occasionally disappear into his writing, if he weren’t more than occasionally a doofus who unwittingly hurts her, if he could be better across the board.

It’s foolishness, he knows, and damaging foolishness at that.

Moreover, it’s a lot for eleven in the morning. It’s a lot to read into a slightly wrinkle blazer and hair that only scores a fifteen on a scale of one to ten, so he consciously dials it down. He takes a deep breath and reminds himself that this a lot and it’s unnecessary. It’s a text from Esposito, rather than her. It’s a few missed phone calls and her running the tiniest bit late.

It’s trivial. It's a minor mystery at best. He reminds himself that he has the whole summer work on the first one hundred mysteries of Kate Beckett.

**************************

There’s a little mystery to solve when he walks out on her into the welcome heat and riotous noise of New York in not-quite summer. Its solution might be beyond him. His meager powers might not be be up to solving the mystery of how he could have been so fucking stupid.

She lied to him. She’s been lying to him and he’s going to need a calendar to figure out how long that’s been going on. Since Stack, he realizes he steps, unseeing, into an intersection and pounds a fist into the hood of the car that nearly mows him down. Since the moment he asked what the man had wanted to talk to her about. It goes back at least that far.

And farther. He weaves like a drunk through traffic, human and not human, cars and not cars. He comes to the realization that her lies must stretch back so much farther, because she had that spin on this right at her fingertips. She had a ready-to-go narrative that he is the monster, he is the self-centered diva who would dare to be upset, he is the Neanderthal who would stand in the way of her career. He’ss the one who makes her lie, and that’s not something one comes up with on the fly.

She’d gone to the It’s my life well again, and that’s a fucking annual celebration. And that means she’s been lying since last summer. It means she’s been lying since the moment she swore that it wasn’t the storm, it wasn’t the dramatic gesture of quitting the force, it wasn’t almost dying that had brought the two of them crashing together at last.

She has been lying since day one. She has had one foot out the door all this time and deep down he fucking knew it.

He knew it when she ran off after Bracken solo the very morning after she’d sworn she was done.

He knew it when she lied to him and everyone and hid the letter from Bracken’s patsy would-be assassin.

He knew it when it was five rings to voice mail all morning.

He knew it when the text was from Esposito.

He knew it when she rushed in, disheveled, when she lied to his face about her phone being off, about Gates wanting to talk to her about nothing, when she crept out of his bed before dawn just this morning because she couldn’t stand lying there next to him for one second longer.

There has never been a moment when he hasn’t known, deep down in his sad-sack romantic soul, that this has always been one-sided. He has always known that she is his soul mate and he is not hers, and he has prayed for time, for mercy, for change. The pain of it is paralyzing, but the only mystery her is how the hell he has managed to be this fucking stupid for so long.

*************************

There's a mystery to solve when the rage breaks. It is not a little mystery and he may not have it in him to solve it.

He is the mystery. Who he has been, what he has done, what he has failed to do. He is the mystery.

She is not an innocent her. He does not—cannot—absolve her of the lies she’s told, the maneuvering she’s done to arrive at that outcome she’d already decided was inevitable. And if he loved her less, he wouldn’t want so badly to shake her for that, for all of the ways she has sold herself short, sold them short, counted what they are to one another short.

She has lied to him. She has lied to herself. There’s little he can do about that, save solve the mystery of himself.

He has held back. With her, he has always held back, the universe, with its whimsical sense of humor, has delivered that epiphany straight from the acid tongue of the least sympathetic mother in the world.

He would like to crawl away and lick his wounds. He would like a day, an hour, goddamned minute to just think through this realization. He has held back.

He has spent a year terrified that he’ll slip and tell her that he loves her, because they don’t say that, do they?.

He has spent a year manufacturing weekends when he needs to write, needs quality time with Alexis, needs a gaming night with the boys. He has spent a year conjuring space from the ether—a break from him—because he’s spent a year believing this is what she needs, this is how he doesn’t drive her away by being too much, too soon, too often.

He has spent a year not making a single comment on how stupid it is that there’s a his place and her place when they are together nearly every night

He has spent a year not letting himself wonder where they’ll be in another year.

He has spent a year telling himself This is enough. This has to be enough.

He has spent a year being a coward, letting the most damaged parts of himself insist on inertia, on silence, on asking nothing of the relationship that she was not actively, glaringly, eye-lollingly giving.

He is not responsible for her lies—for the caricature of him that she has manufactured to justify them. But he is not innocent of them, either. He, with his black certainty that everything between them is one-sided is not innocent at all.

He is a mystery he does not have time to solve right now. He is a mystery that he’ll have to wait to solve, he’ll have to work at solving.

He is a mystery with a ring in his pocket—a tiny weight that anchors him to what might be his one moment of bravery in the whole of the last year. He is a mystery on a mission.

A/N: Alternating rage and boredom—asymptotic to morphousness.

images via kissthemgoodbye

#Castle #Caskett #Castle: Season 5 #Castle: Watershed #Kate Beckett #Richard Castle #Martha Rodgers #Javier Esposito #Alexis Castle #Fic #Fanfic #Gina Cowell #Gina Griffin #Fanfiction #Fan Fic #Fan Fiction #Writing #Tell Me More

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solange-lol · 3 years

Text

"why don't we be friends (why don't we make out)" - (1/1)

words: 2,373

read on ao3

—

There are very few people that Nico forgets about. At least, as far as the people that have stuck around with him for most of his life.

He’s known Percy and Annabeth since they were young, remembering watching the two of them chase each other around the schoolyard and purposefully try and get desks right next to each other before they were inevitably separated by alphabetical last name seating. He remembers trying to convince Piper to do his french project and Jason sitting in the halls with him outside of the music room when they wouldn’t want to go outside for recess in middle school. He can still hear the alarm when Leo accidentally knocked over a bunsen burner in their sophomore year chemistry class, and the feeling of paint on his skin when Hazel tripped and sent half of her palette onto him in their art class.

Nico can even recall moments with the people he was never particularly close to, like when Rachel told him she loved him backstage of their winter concert after only having known him for five minutes (in a very lesbian/gay solidarity way, of course), or when Grover spent an entire hour hiding out in their school library to get away from their math sub.

It’s strange now, looking across such a large circle of people piled into Jason and Thalia’s house. They’re all people from his grade (or class , he supposes, now that they’re officially graduated), Each one of them, Nico can remember at least one conversation he’s had with them, one story he’s passed into his closer friend group that is laughed over and then inevitably moved on from.

It was supposed to be a big party celebrating all their friendships throughout the years.

Ironically, so many people that had such little impact on him, in retrospect.

Which is why it comes as a surprise to him when he sees a flash of blonde curls and freckled skin among the sea of people. He’s hit with what feels like a wall of memories of the two of them, laying in the same bed trading quiet secrets, and walks to the store to get an inhumane amount of candy that they can go share at the pier. Images of blue eyes, warm hands in his, and the sound of stifled laughter at midnight feel all too familiar. Nico is stuck on them.

He hasn’t seen Will in years.

It wasn’t exactly his choice. It wasn’t either of theirs, really. They had gone to middle school together, and from the ages of 10 to 14, Will knew the most about him.

And then their middle school graduation came and went, and Will left for a boarding school. Nico remembers, vaguely, Will asking him to come with them.

“They offer more classes, and there are more opportunities for help,” they had said, or something along the lines of it. “And we could be roommates.”

Part of him wanted to. All of him almost went. But it was the same year he lost his sister, and while moving to another state for school sounded like a fantastic way to avoid all his trauma, he had to stay with his family. Not that his father would have stopped him, but Nico knew he couldn’t go. Not yet.

So he stayed, and Will left, and it all worked out fine. They texted every other day, facetimed once or twice a month when their schedules lined up. Will came home for Christmas that year, telling stories about the other kids on their floor and their girlfriend. Then, when he came home for that summer, about their boyfriend.

Nico would listen, then catch Will up about what was going on at his public school. He had gone out on a date with one boy which was nice but didn’t turn into anything, and Will told him he would find someone eventually. They took trips to the mall together instead of the pier, mostly just to get milkshakes and have a place to walk around.

One morning, Will convinced him to bike to the beach in the morning to see the sunrise. The sky ended up being too cloudy, but they still sat together on the empty lifeguard chair, swapped sweatshirts and bagels with cream cheese, and talking about summer jobs and college.

Then Will left for their sophomore year, and school caught up to both of them and whatever kept them going was lost. The most Nico talked to them was through the occasional Snapchat sent to each other or on a group facetime

The last time Nico had called Will alone, it was in a panic to ask advice on how to break up with the boy he was dating at the time because he realized that relationships weren’t really his thing, at least not yet. Will had sat quietly, giving him occasional advice, and mostly just comforted him.

And that was it.

Nico had gotten a new phone later that year, and all their call logs and long text threads were lost into the depths of his phone memory.

It was bittersweet, in all honesty, and pretty painless for the most part. Maybe it’s because Nico never really forgot about Will. There was never any clear ending; no hard feelings between the two of them. He still sees their posts on social media, sees their mom in the store on occasion. He remembers passing Will at their local fair when they came home again for the summer of their junior year with their boyfriend that they were still dating, and then later again the next when he noticed that all posts had been removed from their Instagram including the ones with said boyfriend and nothing but will - they/them in their bio.

He wondered, briefly, where Will had gone when he didn’t even see him in passing over the following summer. Was he still going to the boarding school? Had his family moved out of the state entirely?

It never felt like a friendship breakup. It was clear now, though.

Nico wonders at which point it became one. He didn’t mean to stare at Will as long as he did. Everything had just come washing over him at once, and he was frozen in place staring at the person Nico had once called his best friend.

He doesn’t even realize he was staring until Will looks back. Their blue eyes meet his brown ones, and reality sets back in. The loud music he had drowned out in his daydream came filtering back through his ears, and he stumbles as people shove past him towards the kitchen. Still, his gaze locks on Will.

Neither of them makes a move towards each other at first.

Then, a moment later, Will is right next to him.

“Hey,” they say it slowly, almost like they were testing the waters, like they knew how long it had been since they had spoken.

Nico doesn’t know what to say. His first instinct was to hug them.

He withstands it, though, instead grabbing onto their wrist and pulling them past the crowd of people and into one of the rooms off of the main hall, which was miraculously empty. He can still hear the pounding music, but it was a little bit quieter with the door closed. Quiet enough that he can think again.

“Uh, hi,” Will tries again, and god, their smile never changed.

“Sorry,” Nico says once he realized he had just seemingly dragged them into a secondary location with no explanation. “It was just… loud. Out there.”

“I get it,” Will says, sitting down on the couch pushed onto the far wall and looking back up at Nico. They were wearing a pinkish-orange button-up Hawaiian shirt that looked straight out of their dad’s closet (Nico would know, he’s seen it before) that was half-tucked into mid-rise light wash jeans that were cuffed just enough that you could see a glimpse of where their socks met their Converse. Yellow, possibly the same pair they had bought at the mall two years prior when Nico was there.

They got taller, he thinks vaguely. Nico had too, but Will still has at least half a foot on him.

“So, what’s up?”

“Not much, I guess,” he shrugs, twisting his ring. “I mean, I graduated. I assume you did too.”

Will nods. “I did. Lou Ellen invited me as her plus one. You know her, right? Friends with Rachel.”

Nico nods. Shoulder length, cloud-like hair that was a different color every other week. Wore lots of random thrifted t-shirts over big pants. Loud personality, even louder voice. Band kid. Friends with Cecil; her good grades probably being the only reason he hasn’t been kicked out of the school yet. Once debated the legitimacy of gender binaries with him in an English class.

“Sorry for, like, staring at you before,” he says. “It’s been a while.”

They nod again. “All good. I was staring at you before anyway.”

“You were?”

“Yeah,” Will shrugs. “You’re easy to look at.”

Then, a moment later, “It has been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah. You’ve changed a bit.”

“Have I?” They ask. “I think just my look, maybe. I’m still just as obnoxious.”

Nico snorts. It’s comforting to know they could just slip back into it like this. Like no time had ever passed, and Nico is back in their bedroom creating each other in The Sims.

“Are you still dating Connor?” Nico asks, vaguely remembering the last conversation they had.

“Nah, we broke up last winter.”

“Any reason?”

Will squints a bit like they’re curious why Nico’s asking. It makes Nico blush, immediately regretting saying anything.

“Dunno. We just grew apart,” they say. Then, “Sounds kinda familiar, doesn’t it?” followed by a laugh.

“I didn’t mean to stop talking to you,” Nico says quickly because he didn’t. There are days where he sees Will’s Instagram story or a tweet and knows that even though he could still comment, it wouldn’t quite be the same.

“Life got busy,” Will says. “It happens”

“I didn’t want it to. Not to us.”

“So let's restart.”

Nico blinks. “Just… start over our entire friendship?”

“No, just pick up where we left off.”

“Just like nothing happened?” he asks, sitting down on the couch next to them.

“Just like nothing happened,” Will affirms.

They’re both quiet for a moment, then—

“Do you remember what you told me when you first came out as bisexual to me?”

It was in the basement of Will’s house. Nico had come out as gay a few weeks prior, and when he was talking about the boy he liked, they just casually mentioned it. Being with Will like this again reminded him of something they had said, and something he later found out.

“I think I just, like… told you, right?” Will smiles. “And I said you were a big part of helping me figure out.”

“Yeah. I always thought you meant because I had already come out,” Nico said. “It wasn’t until, like, last year that Piper mentioned you meant that because you liked me.”

Will laughed again. “I figured you didn’t. You were always talking about what bad of a couple we would make.”

“Yeah,” Nico said, and his heart picked up pace as his knee knocked against Will’s by accident. Neither of them moved. “I actually had a massive crush on you for a while. I think I just said that because I wanted to try and get over it, so I wanted you to indirectly reject me.”

“Did you ever get over it?”

Nico laughs. “Not really. But I moved on.”

He notices Will shift closer, notices how their hands are now on top of each other and their legs are fully pressed together.

“Same,” Will says, moving their head closer to Nico’s until their foreheads are pressed together and their breaths mingle. They look at him for any sign to stop, and Nico doesn’t move.

“Good thing we’re starting over then, right?” they continue, practically a breath of a whisper before their lips connect, and god Nico did not think this was where his night was going but no way in hell was he about to stop it. (He’s not sober enough to care, anyway, and seemingly neither is Will judging by the strong scent smell of weed coming off of his shirt.)

Their hands laced together, subconsciously, almost like muscle memory from all the days walking hand in hand down the dock. (Nico wonders if his younger self was ever trying to tell his mind something.) Nico’s other hand comes up to rest on warm skin, brushing Will’s cheek with his thumb like he’s trying to wipe the freckles off.

Will wraps one arm around Nico’s waist, pulling him closer until he eventually just shifts so he’s in their lap. Will certainly doesn’t complain, only tilting their head to deepen the kiss and breaking apart their hands so they can run one hand through Nico’s hair.

They have to break apart after a moment, and Nico can help it when he laughs.

“Guess we were a little dumb when we were younger, huh?”

Will’s breathing heavy, but Nico doesn’t miss the familiar playful glint in their eye. “I don’t know what you mean. You’re still an idiot,” they say, pressing a kiss to the underside of Nico’s jaw, and another one right next to his ear.

He wonders if Will has thought about doing this the same way Nico has.

“Says you,” Nico says. “You were far more oblivious than I was.”

“I’m not the one who said we would make a bad couple,” they remind Will.

“Yeah?” he says, then leans back in to kiss Will again. Their mouths slot together, and god, they’re an even better kisser than Nico ever thought they could be. Something in his mind tells him maybe it’s not relationships he didn’t like, maybe he just knew it wasn’t the right person.

Perhaps Will’s that person he was always looking for.

Nico leans back, just barely so he can mumble “Lucky for you, I’m willing to test that theory,” against Will’s lips just before they pull him in once more.

—

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hb-writes · 3 years

Text

The Firstborns

A Sylvie Bridgerton Story - 1815

Sylvie (OC) is the eldest child of Hugo Bridgerton, the older sister to George (OC), and a cousin raised alongside the infamous Bridgerton brood. Born in-between Daphne and Eloise, Sylvie has made it her mission to delay her season again and again. Will 1815 be her year?

A/N - I’ve read the books and watched the show, so fair warning there are likely spoilers and it’s also likely a mix of both media because my mind honestly didn’t separate them - it just choose what it wants from the books/ tv show.

---

It was often said that elder brothers could be the worst sort of thing to happen to a young woman of marrying age, but Sylvie Bridgerton had three elder male cousins and could rightfully attest to the fact that they could be similarly problematic.

Sylvie supposed they were essentially siblings, the Bridgerton brood labeled tidily from A through H, because she had been raised mostly by their side as an alphabetical outcast, the elder of the two children born to Lord Hugo Bridgerton, left in the care of her Uncle Edmund at her father’s passing, the responsibility then left to her cousin, Anthony, only a year after that. At least that was the way society dictated it.

Sylvie had always been quite certain it was really her Auntie Vi who was in charge of her and her younger brother, George, though. Or more precisely, Sylvie was quite certain that Auntie Vi was in charge of everything, her Viscount of a cousin included.

But as Sylvie sat twiddling her fingers in Anthony’s office for the third time in less than a week, she was starting to question that certainty.

Sylvie had assessed that her cousin looked rather disgruntled, though she supposed Anthony had simply had that look about him for about a week or so now.

“So, are we to have a little chat or…?”

Anthony had ignored his cousin from the very moment after instructing her to take a seat a little over a quarter of an hour before. He focused instead on whatever was keeping him chained to his desk at this time of night, some paperwork regarding the estate and the family finances.

“If not, maybe you’ll allow me to borrow a book to pass the time?” Sylvie gestured to his brimming shelves.

“Sylvia.”

Anthony set down his pen, eyebrow raised as he interlaced his fingers, settling them on top of the papers before him. He was surprised she’d humored his silence for so long, nearly fourteen minutes when he’d expected no more than three to seven.

“Is my given name truly necessary?” she said, allowing only a moment of silence before continuing. “I suppose from that alone I should gather I’m in some sort of proper trouble?”

Anthony only stared at her and then, despite himself, he sat back in his chair, rubbing his temples and rolling his neck.

If anyone thought raising girls was an easy business, they’d clearly never done it themselves. They’d never met Daphne or Eloise or Francesca or Hyacinth Bridgerton. And they’d certainly never met Sylvia.

It still shocked him a bit, the differences between the Bridgerton girls, his younger sisters and his younger cousin. It was impressive, the way they could each vex him in such creative and distinct ways, their ability to bring him to laughter matched equally by their making him wish he had remained an only child, and entirely cousin-less as well.

On some days, Anthony wondered if every Bridgerton below him in age didn’t actually gather in the drawing-room at an agreed-upon hour to arrange a schedule designed solely for agitating him, deciding who would next take a swing and what technique would be employed. It seemed that Sylvie had been assigned extra vexing duties as of late, though that was not entirely surprising to him. She had always seemed to enjoy it a bit more than the others. And she was bloody good at it too.

“Are you ever not in trouble, Sylvia?”

Her eyes longed to roll, his continued insistence on using her full name bringing her the slightest bit of frustration, because despite all of the evidence otherwise, she did prefer when Anthony wasn’t lecturing her. She actually quite enjoyed his company when he wasn’t scolding.

“On those precious few evenings when you actually do go out, or better yet go to your own home, I find myself in a distinct lack of trouble. No one else deems me fit to be scolded, however—”

“However—” Anthony sat up and straightened his jacket. “—I am seemingly required to do so three...or four,” he said, allowing for the chance they’d find themselves in the same situation the following evening, “nights a week, all because you think a little untoward behavior will allow you to put off your season for another year.”

Sylvie was left with her mouth open, her elder cousin’s words an effective silencer and stunner, finally coming straight to the point after the two of them had danced around it for weeks.

“I—”

“Hear precisely what you are saying, my dear cousin, and will stop all this nonsense at once?” Anthony suggested.

“That’s—That’s not what I wanted to say,” she answered.

“No, of course not. I would never dream to expect as much.”

Sylvie took a breath as she considered her options. She wanted to ask for another year of reprieve. That’s what she had planned for, waiting at least another year before subjecting herself to the same torment Daphne had endured only two years prior.

She was still young enough to justify a delay and she’d successfully done so for two years already, citing a need to finish out a few academic endeavors the first year and an ankle injured in a particularly ruthless game of Pall Mall the next, but she hadn’t postured herself correctly for her cousin to be amenable to a conversation on delaying yet again. But then again, Sylvie hadn’t truly postured herself very well for Anthony to be amenable to her requests for nearly a decade by this point.

“But Georgie—”

“You do not need to concern yourself with matters concerning your brother. The boys will be at Eton come the next fall. They’ll be home for the summers. No matter who you marry, you shall always be welcome to visit him here or at Aubrey Hall, and I’m sure George should like to come to visit you as well.”

Sylvie’s mouth opened and closed a few times before she cleared her throat and regained the ability to form proper words. “Actually Anthony, I had expected that Georgie would be living with me.”

Anthony shook his head, sitting up in his chair. “George will be at Eton. He and Gregory will both be at Eton and then—”

“He is my brother,” Sylvie answered. “My responsibility.”

“I think you’ll find that both you and George are both my responsibility. And that responsibility extends to seeing you settled in a comfortable marriage and your brother receiving a proper education before, when he is ready, he also settles into a comfortable marriage.”

“When he’s ready?” Sylvie repeated. “Why is it that you boys get to marry when you’re ready and we young ladies are simply commanded to join the parade when you men determine it’s the proper time? Why do you get to decide everything?”

Anthony could have been honest and told Sylvie that he wanted them all tucked away into the safety of marriage because he didn’t know that he would be around to see to it if there was a delay.

Or he could have spoken to her from firstborn to firstborn, appealing the fellow eldest child he found in his younger cousin, aligning them through their common thread, and insisting that he only did these things because it was what he thought was best for them, same as she did for the younger ones and George especially.

Or he could have been quite frank and informed her that he had no desire to have multiple Bridgerton girls in season at the same time, though the prospect of settling Sylvie, Eloise, and Francesca down all in one go was enticing.

But Anthony didn’t tell her those things. He offered a much simpler explanation, one which he suspected would allot less room for argument on the part of the cousin who was testing his capacity for patience at such a late hour.

“Because I am Viscount, Sylvia.”

Sylvie released a quick breath and turned her face down to focus on her fumbling fingers as she considered it. Anthony had only uttered four simple words, but there was a whole lot of complicated meaning built up behind them.

Because you are Viscount.

And a man.

And I am nothing.

A woman, and therefore, nothing.

Property.

A dowry.

A machine for use of creating an heir.

Meant to be seen and not heard.

Nothing.

She found it all hard to swallow after her upbringing even though she knew Anthony, and the other male Bridgertons, didn’t truly live by those beliefs. But society did. The ton did. And so the second she entered society, it would become reality, in a way.

Sylvie had never before been discounted on account of being female. As a young Bridgerton girl, she had frequently gone out into the fields tagging along behind her older cousins, playing the very same games as the boys, climbing trees and forging streams. Even once they moved to London year-round, Sylvie had retained a certain amount of autonomy.

And though they often went toe to toe, Anthony had always respected Sylvie’s position as George’s older sister, and he’d always acknowledged the importance of the common ground that stood between them, that of the firstborn sibling, affording her an extra measure of respect that he’d not afford to even Benedict in certain matters. It often came out in shared glances across the room, or their lending one another support with simple nods in response to “Right, Sylvie?” or “Right, Anthony?”

Although they had never explicitly discussed it, Sylvie assumed when she did one day marry, her brother would come to stay with her, assumed that if he were still of a certain impressionable age, George would officially become the responsibility of her and her future husband.

And if she didn’t marry until later in life, until her younger brother was fully grown, or if she never married at all, she was alright with those scenarios as well. She loved Bridgerton House and Aubrey Hall and being surrounded by family, her wild cousins and brother running about and shouting at all hours. She didn’t long for the solitude of marriage. And despite loving children, she wasn’t entirely sure whether she wanted to bear her own.

“But—”

“What could you possibly have to say to argue that point?”

“I’m not going to argue whether or not you’re the Viscount, My Lord.”

Anthony rolled his eyes, but didn’t comment. He rued the day that his cousin learned that she could somehow twist his title into an insult.

Sylvie smiled, considering his silence permission to continue, not that she was truly waiting for it.

“I’m going to argue against this season. Daphne didn’t meet Simon until the season in which she turned one and twenty, and your own wife didn’t have her season until one and twenty, and—”

“And you’re telling me that I should allow you to wait until you are one and twenty?”

“No,” she said. “You, my dearest cousin, are the Right Honorable Viscount Bridgerton, and I am well aware that I cannot tell you what to do. I am merely asking that you consider my humble little request.”

Anthony snorted. “Sylvie Bridgerton? Humble, eh?”

“My ability to be humble is not the question at hand, Anthony,” she muttered. “And neither truly is the time at which my season should take place because... well, your wife has already agreed with me. Kate thinks one and twenty is the perfect age for a first season.”

Anthony’s thumb rubbed at his temple, an entirely subconscious gesture on his part. “My wife has already agreed with you?”

“Yes, the Viscountess has agreed that I should be allowed to wait a year. We had tea this afternoon while you, Ben, and Colin were at the club.”

“Of course you did.”

“She also said that you’ve lost a bet to her and as such, you will have no choice to go along with us.”

Anthony closed his eyes and his nostrils flared before he released a deep exhale. “You’ll be the death of me.”

“Me or Kate?”

Anthony waved a hand in the air. “I’ll let the two of you work that out. Not as if my opinion on the subject matters.”

“So, you’ll tell Auntie—”

Anthony’s booming laugh cut off Sylvie’s words. “No, no, my dearest cousin. I shall leave that particular discussion for you.”

He stood up from his desk then, taking his hat as he stepped towards the door. “Best of luck. Do let me know how that goes.”

#bridgerton #bridgerton oc #bridgerton one shot #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton fanfic #anthony bridgerton #sylvie bridgerton

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