LOOK AT HIM TAKE CARE OF HER

Coming Home

Originally posted by dark-dagger

Request: i was wondering if you could do a Deanxreader where the reader is an old flame. After years he find himself in her hometown for another case. Her boyfriend had kicked her out from their home because she is pregnant and he doesn’t want kid. Dean ask her to move in the bunker for sometime. Sam, but especialy Dean do everything they can to make sure her and the baby feel happy and safe. When Dean is ready to talk about his feeling she goes in labor. After the birth Dean take care of the baby like it is his own. And it end up with the baby calling him dada, after the initial shock Dean talk to the reader and tell her he want to be with her and be a family together? Thank you so much!

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 1,300ish

Warnings: none


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Iris is, she’s been having to deal with the heartbreak of Barry leaving her behind, and having to understand that the sacrifice had really nothing to do with their relationship and not take it personally. It was about, you know, the whole city, Central City, and the responsibility that Barry feels to take care of his city and his people,  and I think the only thing that would have kept him from leaving is if Iris had said ‘Don’t leave’, I think he would have probably not really been able to if he had sat down and really talked to her about it. But Barry, he’s happy to be home with his fiancee, they’re looking forward to the wedding and it’ll mostly be on Iris to find a way to forgive him for leaving and to understand why he left and for them to move forward together.
—  Grant Gustin on Iris’ reaction to Barry coming back
  • kit: sophie is so annoying a bit like sansa hahaha sansa is super annoying
  • kit: like man she really irritates jon amirite hahaha lol she's very annoying like her and jon are complete typical siblings because sansa is just so annoying she really annoys jonkit:did I mention sansa is annoying lol
  • jon: *nearly beats ramsay to death knowing what he did to sansa but pulls away at the last moment to let her have the honour, is infuriated when ramsay says he can't wait to have sansa back in his bed, is gentle and caring with sansa (the hug + forehead kiss), reads through the letter from ramsay but has to stop when rape upon sansa is threatened even though he himself is repeatedly called 'bastard' throughout it, tells sansa he'll protect her, tells her there's nothing to forgive her for when she apologises for the way she treated him when they were younger, is delighted when sansa presents him with clothes she made for him and insists that she takes the master chambers in winterfell, looks around at her when the lords start to proclaim him king in the north, tells her she can still question his descions even though he is king, tells her he will protect her-*
  • me: lol okay kit
Try - Louis Tomlinson Imagine

Originally posted by tmlnsn

Many girls have held a baby, many girls want to take care of a child, but majority dream of having one. She did, she dreamed since she was younger to have one, a small bundle in her arms, looking up to her husband with a smile that meant the world to him, that was her dream.

But, (Y/N) tried, her and her husband, Louis tried everyday, after two years of marriage and six years of being together. Both of them were ready, both of them wanted it. It was not (Y/N) who brought up the conversation, it was Louis, talking about their future together, about their life, passions and goals, together as couple, and the topic came up. That was eighteen months ago. Constant trying, at first, they tried during her ovulation, and they had that fun sex without protection once in awhile, but there was no positive outcome coming out of it. They both decided, to have sex, just try and have fun with it, which included fucking two to three times a day, at first it was fun, but then it turned out to be a chore, if you were honest. But nothing happened.

Louis and her were like they were desperate, more than that. They both saw their mates having children, and they weren’t even in the slight successful, and that hurt her. Women are suppose to have children, bare them, but she felt like she was nothing, when she read that monthly stick she bought from the local drug store, reading a negative answer, she felt useless.

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Title: Take Care
Genre: Family, Sibling Bonding, Anxiety, Bullying
Characters: Yuuri Katsuki, Mari Katsuki, Viktor Nikiforov, Hiroko Katsuki
Pairing: Yuuri Katsuki / Viktor Nikiforov
Rating/Warnings: General / None
Summary:

“Mari is seven the first time she sets eyes on the wriggling, chubby, pale mutant alien of a baby her parents have dubbed her “brother.” He cries incessantly for weeks straight and leaves her mom so exhausted that she forgets to pack Mari’s bento three times in the first month after his birth.  

Mari hates him immediately.”

A look at Yuuri’s life and love from the perspective of his worst enemy and biggest supporter: his sister.

Link: Read on Ao3

Lucas takes care of drunk Maya oneshot

~someone requested this on my wattpad so here it is~

Lucas is studying at NYU to become a veterinarian, his dream since the sixth grade. So he knew about lots of animals, but as he told his friends, that didn’t make him a party animal (and may I make it clear that Lucas was very proud of that pun. Riley had laughed hysterically, Maya rolling her eyes and groaning, Farkle looking at Riley in confusion, shouting “he’s just a face!”).

But as dumb as it was, the statement was true. Lucas didn’t particularly enjoy the college keggers that the frats would host almost every weekend. But he ended up being dragged to some by Riley and Zay, along with the rest of his friends.

The parties usually sucked, but would actually be quite enjoyable if Maya came.

She wasn’t that into the whole frat party scene either, so her and Lucas would often find open bedrooms and have long conversations. Maya would often come up with weird inappropriate games like “guess the fetish” where they would give each other a friend and they would come up with their weird fetish or kink. Lucas would act like he thought it was gross, but he secretly really enjoyed the strange yet hilarious exchanges with the fiery blonde.

So Lucas wasn’t too reluctant when Riley got him, Zay, Maya and Farkle invited to another rager, since the blonde beauty would be coming.

He was excited to talk with her, that was until he found out the circumstances.

Maya had just broken up with her boyfriend, Josh, and was planning on drinking heavily and getting wasted. Lucas felt bad, for he knew that drinking has always been Maya’s first instinct when something bad happened to her, like when her dad stood her up or her and Riley got in a fight. He hated to see her hurting, but if drinking was what she wanted to do, then he wouldn’t stop her.

So by the end of the party, Lucas finds himself sitting on a bed in a bedroom, a cup of untouched beer in his hands, the loud music’s soft bass making it in the room, sending ripples in his drink.

He checks the time on his phone and sees that it’s 12:23 am, a fine time for him to skip out.

But just as he starts to get up, the door bursts open. He sees Farkle, holding up Maya as she holds her stilettos in her hand, laughing hysterically.

“Lucas, a little help?” A sober Farkle says, taking her in and sitting her on the bed.

“Lukey!” Maya gasps, pulling him into a tight hug, butterflies filling Lucas’s stomach.

“She’s super drunk, and I was gonna take her home, but she kept asking for you. She wouldn’t unlock herself from the bathroom unless I promised I’d take her to you.” Farkle says exasperatedly, still standing beside the bed.

“I can take her back to her dorm, don’t worry about it.” Lucas replies, Maya still hugging him tightly, her head resting on his shoulder.

“Really? You don’t have to do that..” Farkle says, scratching the back of his neck.

“No, it’s no problem. She’s only a few buildings over.” Lucas waves off, standing up and pulling Maya with him.

She stumbles slightly with a giggle, but Lucas catches her and holds her upright.

“Man, I owe you one. I’m gonna go find Riley.” Farkle smiles, heading out the door.

“Okay Maya, you wanna walk with me?” Lucas says to Maya, her simply almost falling over again.

He holds her up, and decides that there’s an easier way to do this.

Lucas picks Maya up and puts her over his shoulder, her laughing and kicking her bare feet.

He walks out of the bedroom and down the stairs, hearing some cheers and wolf-whistles at him as he descends.

“Where are you taking me lukey?” She asks cutely, letting her long blonde locks swing carelessly.

“Back to your dorm.” Lucas says flatly, blushing at her flirty voice.

Lucas carries a still laughing Maya out of the house and to his red truck that’s parked on the side of the road. He opens the door and puts her in, but when he lays her down, she grabs his shirt and pulls him down into a kiss.

Lucas jumps slightly at the unexpected action, his stomach tying into a knot as his face turns very red. The kiss is burning with hunger and desire, an electric charge flowing from her lips to his, pulsing through his body and making his hair stand up on the back of his neck.

Lucas very reluctantly pulls away from Maya’s lips, her hand still on his shirt, their faces inches apart.

“But Lucas… I want you.” Maya purrs, but Lucas resists every teenage boy urge inside of him and pulls away completely.

“You’re drunk, Maya. We’ll see if that’s still what you want when you’re sober.” Lucas chuckles, closing her door and walking around the truck to get in the driver’s seat.

“Fine. You’re no fun.” Maya huffs, sticking out her lip in a pout.

Lucas starts the truck, pulling out of his spat and starting to drive to Maya’s dorm building.

“I’m tired..” Maya groans, scooting over and hugging Lucas’s arm, resting her head on his shoulder.

Lucas has a hard time keeping his eyes on the road as Maya nuzzles into him cutely, not to mention her short skirt riding up dangerously high.

Lucas takes one hand off the wheel and wraps it around her shoulders, her nuzzling into his chest as her breathing suddenly turns into little snores that Lucas finds adorable.

He pulls up beside her building, gently setting Maya down and getting out of the car as she lays unconscious in the seat. He pulls her out and puts her over his shoulder again, closing the door and walking up the steps to the building.

Carrying Maya is really no challenge for Lucas, considering she’s five feet tall and most likely a size two, not to mention Lucas being strong as a horse.

He walks in the doors and sees a group of college girls on the couch in the commons, their talking and laughing stopping as they all look at him with smirks on their faces.

“He’s so hot…” he hears one of them say quietly to their friend, and he walks over to them.

“Hey, do any of you know where Maya’s dorm is? She passed out.” Lucas asks them.

“Yeah, I live next door.. I can show you.” A dirty blonde, brown eyed girl says, getting up as her friends giggle from the couches.

“We’re on the third floor. I’m guessing the elevator is the best idea.” The girl chuckles, Lucas following her to the elevators before she pushes the up button.

The three of them get in the elevator, the girl pushing the three button.

“So, what’s your name?” The girl asks, making small talk.

“Lucas. You?”

“Haley.”

“Nice to meet you.” Lucas chuckles, the elevator doors opening.

“And you.” She replies sarcastically, exiting the elevator.

“So is Maya your girlfriend?” Haley asks, walking down the hall.

“Uh.. no, she’s not. But-” Lucas replies, his face going red.

“You want her to be?” Haley cuts him off.

“Oh, well.. yeah. I do.” Lucas admits.

“You should make a move. Just between us, she talks about you all the time.” Haley says with an eye roll, stopping at a door.

“Really?” Lucas replies, butterflies filling his stomach.

“Yeah. Jesus, you look so excited.” Haley laughs, Lucas chuckling and looking to his feet.

“Well this is her. She leaves it unlocked.” Haley nods.

“Alright, thanks a ton.” Lucas smiles.

“No problem.” Haley responds, Lucas stepping into Maya’s dorm.

The room’s only light is coming from a crack in the bathroom door, giving the room a dim orange light.

He carries her to her bed and lays her down, pulling the comforter over her.

He smiles at her, admiring how beautiful she looks despite her drunk and sleepy state, before he turns and starts for the door.

“Lucas?” He suddenly hears after a rustle of blankets and a grunt.

“Yeah?” He replies as he turns around.

“Can you stay with me?” She asks, only her head peeking out from under the big blanket.

Lucas opens his mouth to decline, but Maya beats him to it.

“I won’t try anything, I promise. I just don’t wanna be alone.” She says softly, and Lucas gives in to her big blue eyes.

“Sure. I’ll stay.” Lucas gives her a toothless smile, starting to take his shoes off and make a bed on the floor.

“God, don’t sleep down there. I have room up here.” Maya giggles, taking off the comforter and patting the spot next to her.

Lucas tries to say no, but he can’t when she looks up at him with that longing look on her face.

“Fine.” Lucas sighs, joining her in the bed before pulling the comforter over them both.

Maya snuggles her head into his chest, both of them laying on their sides facing each other. Lucas puts his arm around her and rubs her back, Maya resting a leg in between his.

Lucas hears Maya’s breaths grow steady and he plants a small kiss on her forehead, her hair still smelling of peaches.

They lay like this quietly until they both drift off, Lucas’s heart feeling warm and happy as he falls into a soundless sleep.

anonymous asked:

So can we get some domestic headcannons for aizawa living with a green thumb s/o (one who likes to plant stuff)? Good luck with the new blog, sweetie <3

Than you (^_^) <3

Aizawa with a green thumb s/o

  • He has no problem with whatever they want to do. As long as the place doesn’t look like a jungle and he has enough space to lay down it’s fine.
  • It won’t impress him at first but then he’ll notice that all this green helps him relax and puts him a ease
  • He’s going to silently seat somewhere and look at their happy face while they are planting and taking care of the plants
  • Everything looks like a little shred of paradise installed in the back yard until one of his cats poops on her favorite plant and another starts eating the grass.
  • She will get angry and tell him to get rid of the fucking cats
  • No. Not his precious cats. He can put up with any shit except for that. His house is his fortress and those cats are the knights guarding it.
  • There will be a lot of shouting    
  • And no one wants to compromise
  • But then they look at their neighbor’s yard
  • The cats can stay there
  • This way Aizawa can have an eye on them and call them every time he needs to hear their purring and meowing voices
  • Paradise restored

THIS

IS KEITH’S TWIN SISTER.

I already wrote a post on this but MORE EVIDENCE:

Besides her human-like features, their facial similarities, and how fucking AWESOME it would be, we’ve actually already met her before.

Remember this? Yeah, Keef met a mysterious Galra that he fought alongside but who ultimately betrayed him

LET’S TAKE A CLOSER LOOK SHALL WE

HMMMMMMM

HMMMMMMMMMMM

HMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

The uniform is EXACTLY the same and given the body shape + coloring, she can’t be the two ladies on the left. So she’s either Galra warrior of the right BUT hooded Galra lady’s weapon seems v different from that small gun (either a sword or a staff or a long sniper gun???) PLUS A LITTLE SMALL DETAIL: Both mysterious Weblum Galra and human-like Galra lady have a touch of orange on their collar.

SO THAT MYSTERIOUS GALRA WAS DEFINITELY GOTH AZULA SO IT’S CLEAR SHE HAS SOME RELATION TO KEITH BECAUSE WHY ELSE WOULD THEY WRITE THAT SCENE??

And given that she was trapped in this uniform, she was already working for Lotor. Keith’s mom is a known associate of the Blade of Marinade so she couldn’t be working for Lotor unless some dramatic af shit went down and changed her loyalties OR she’s in deep cover. But I still think she’s too young and too human looking to be Keef’s mom.

YOU KNOW WHAT EXPLANATION WORKS?

Cowboy Bebop and his furry alien wife have twins. They separate those twins at birth because they take after different parents (lookswise). Keef’s dad abandons him for some unknown reason and maybe Keef’s mom does the same with her daughter?? (Too risky to have a child with the Blade??) Her daughter grows up bullied for her half-human heritage and when another group of half-Galra soldiers come to recruit her, including this charismatic prince, she joins without a second thought., either strongly believing in the mission or not really caring what the mission was just happy to have a place to belong. THE POSSIBILITIES ARE ENDLESS.

CUE GENERAL VS. PALADIN FIGHT

CUE FIGHT SCENE BETWEEN THE TWINS

CUE KEEF TAKING OUT HIS KNIFE AFTER HIS BAYARD GETS KNOCKED AWAY

CUE HER BEING LIKE WHERE THE FUCK DID YOU GET THAT BECAUSE SHE HAS A SIMILAR KNIFE

CUE THEM BEING OVERJOYED AT HAVING FAMILY (WE’RE ALL MADE UP OF THE SAME FUCKING COSMIC DUST) AND THEN GETTING ALL SAD BECAUSE THEY’RE ON DIFFERENT SIDES AND TECHNICALLY HAVE TO KILL EACH OTHER

CUE HER TRYING TO CONVINCE KEEF TO JOIN THEM AND VICE VERSA

CUE THEM BEING LIKE “DID I JOIN THE RIGHT SIDE??” AND HAVING INTERNAL CONFLICT

CUE THEM UNABLE TO FIGHT EACH OTHER (OR BEING ANGRY AT EACH OTHER AND FIGHTING EXXXTRA HARD TO PROVE THEY CAN)

CUE KEEF BEING LIKE SHES NOT MY SISTER. SHIRO WAS MORE MY REAL FAMILY THAN THIS RANDOM STRANGER FUCK THIS

CUE HIM GETTING ALL DEPRESSED CAUSE HIS FAMILY IS A SHITSHOW

(cue Lance comforting him and telling him it’s great her found his sister because having siblings is great oh wait this is my own self-indulgent fantasy)

and when they finally do make up and become real siblings, can you imagine them being like “so what was mom/dad like??” and the other being like “…well i don’t really know” CUE MY TEARS

gOD THIS IS GOING TO BE SO HEART WRENCHING IM ALL FOR IT. GIVE ME KEEF’S GALRA TWIN SISTER. GIVE ME GALRA LEIA. I NEED IT.

Things I’m Happy About
  • Lucy won a prestigious literature award at the age of 19.
  • The main character in her book is called Iris; Iris was the name of the Greek goddess of the rainbow; a rainbow usually symbolizes following our hearts and dreams.
  • This girl has fulfilled one of her dreams at the age of 19. I am proud of her.
  • People older than her acknowledge her talent and even refer to her as “Lucy-sensei”.
  • Fairy Tail is as loud as ever. I hope that never changes.
  • Gajeel eating an iron mug. I’ll never get enough of Gajeel eating iron anything tbh. :D
  • Jet and Droy being genuinely happy for Lucy.
  • Happy having his paws healed. Happy not having to worry about his best friend dying or turning into a demon or anything of the sort. Happy just being happy.
  • Natsu possibly making a promise to clean after the party.
  • Natsu and Gray ready to fight over the smallest of things.
  • Erza being there to stop them, just like old times.
  • Anna being a part of Lucy’s life. However small it might be.
  • Blushing Gajeel.
  • Wendy and Chelia’s friendship.
  • Lyon being supportive of his pink-haired guildmate.
  • The difference between the amount of food Rogue and Sting had at the eating contest.
  • Freed and Bickslow being genuinely happy for their close friend Evergreen.
  • Freed with a ponytail.
  • Laxus still having trouble believing the Lisanna in front of him is the real one.
  • Erza saying she’s proud of Lucy.
  • Lucy being happy that she’s acknowledged by someone she’s always looked up to.
  • King Fiore finding happiness in something small (pumpkin business?) and leaving the country in his daughter’s hands.
  • The Alvarez Empire actually being mentioned in the final chapter.
  • Meredy’s beautiful dress.
  • Erza brushing her scarlet hair day after day. /This is the part where I started sobbing./
  • Mest taking care of Makarov.
  • Second chances. Forgiveness.
  • Lucy’s “Everything’s making me happy. I feel like I’m wrapped up in something really warm.”
  • Romeo being absolutely certain that he doesn’t want to end up like Macao and Wakaba.
  • Reedus drawing the stunning Bisca and her elegant husband Alzack.
  • Natsu taking care of drunk Lucy.
  • Natsu and Happy actually staying over at her place for the night to make sure she’s alright.
  • The flashbacks to what they’ve been through.
  • Happy being concerned about Lucy. Stomach aches are not to be taken lightly!
  • “If I hadn’t met you, I would have never lived any of this” which also applies to us, fans of Fairy Tail.
  • Their hug.
  • “We’ll be together forever from now on” implying that they have all the time in the world to say (and do) the interesting things Lucy hinted at.
  • Both Natsu and Lucy staying as much in character as possible.
  • Natsu packed Lucy’s bag while she was sleeping.
  • Gray, Erza, Wendy and Carla waiting for them and for the start of their new adventure.
  • Team Natsu going on a quest very few mages have ever attempted to undertake, which speaks volumes of how much they’ve grown and how powerful they’ve become.
  • The open ending. The adventure that continues forever.
  • “Do fairies have tails? Do they not? Do fairies even exist? Do they not? The eternal mystery will continue as an eternal adventure.”

I'm On My Knee

Hi babes! This is a marshmallow-soft story about the reader and Tom having a special inside joke. That inside joke being Tom dramatically falling down onto one knee to tease her after she accidentally tells him that it’s always been how she wants to get proposed to. The inside joke makes the both of them think a lot about their future and cuteness ensues! I hope that you like it!

Side note: The film was everything I wanted it to be and more? It owns my entire heart? The cast did so well and I’m so happy for all of them and my heart is just overflowing with love and I’m going to see the film again tomorrow!

I’m On My Knee

“He makes me want to wear a white dress and walk down the aisle.” She murmured to her boyfriend, utterly and completely inebriated. “I want to learn how to cook so he can always come home to a hot meal. He makes me want to learn more so that I’ll always have new things to talk to him about, and he makes me want to take care of myself so that I can look good for him. I wanna read every book on the planet earth and watch every film, just so I have stories to tell him before we go to sleep. But, mostly, he makes me wanna wear a white dress and walk down the aisle.”

    Tom smiled, securing a strong arm around her waist before she had the opportunity to slip from the barstool she was trying to twirl on. Holding her still, he questioned, “anything else you want, darling?”

    Lurching forward, she twined her arms around his neck and moved to perch on his knee. She shoved her face into Tom’s neck and breathed in deeply, dragging her hands across the expanse of her boyfriend’s chest. He smelled of french cologne, the fabric of his shirt felt soft beneath her cheek, and she was so close to him that she could count the beats of his heart. “I love you.”

    Supporting her frame, Tom kissed the top of her head, “I love you more.” She sighed into his chest and Tom helped her to her feet, making sure that he still had her locked in his arms. “Let’s get you home now, drunky.”

“I want him on his knee like in the old films,” she added before she allowed Tom to guide her to their parked car.

    Truly, Tom felt the same way about her, but there was no way that he wouldn’t tease her about her intoxicated confession every chance he got. He’d been dreaming about how beautiful she’d look walking down the aisle to meet him since their third date and it comforted him that she seemed to feel the same way.

    She knew that she had majorly screwed up the next morning when Tom dropped down onto one knee, offering her a bottle of advil and a glass of water to soothe the pounding in her head that refused to be ignored.

    “On my knee, baby, just how you wanted!” Tom smiled, his curls flopping down in his eyes in the most endearing of ways. She hated that he looked so cute while he was so successfully embarrassing her.

    Groaning, she brought her hands up to cover her face, “Tom, stop! I told you that I was just drunk. Let it go!” She pleaded, blush spreading as far as the tips of her ears.

    Her boyfriend feigned hurt feelings, “well, if you were truly joking, guess I’m out of here. Gotta go get me a girl who’s in it for the long haul.” Tom joked as he moved to walk out the door.

    “Tom,” she whined before rushing forward to keep him in place with a hug. “Stop being so dumb and help me make pancakes. You flip them better than I do.”

    Smiling down at her, Tom took of her hands within his own and pressed a kiss to her knuckles, “One day, I’ll be way more than just your boyfriend who flips pancakes better than you do. One day, I’ll be your husband who flips pancakes better than you do.” Tom laughed, picking her up to spin her around the kitchen.

    She was happy that Tom was focused on not dropping her or running into anything because she was even pinker than she’d thought previously possible and she was positive that the smile on her face was so huge that her face would crack into halves. It didn’t matter that she didn’t have the greatest job, it didn’t matter that she was absolute shit at math, in fact, she couldn’t think of anything that mattered to her more than what Tom had just said. He was planning on a future with her and she was so elated that she spent the entire rest of her week floating from place to place on a bed made of cotton candy clouds.

    The next time Tom dropped to one knee for her, it was in the flower shop while she was sifting through bins of tulip bouquets for their friend’s dinner party. “Because I love you,” Tom said, holding out a bundle of daisies.

    Rolling her eyes, she took the flowers and bent forward to kiss Tom tenderly on the mouth. “Because I love you,” she repeated back to him before taking both bouquets to the register while Tom struggled to free his wallet before she could pay for her daisies.

    The time after that, Tom fell to one knee when she had come home with smudged mascara and tears dripping from the corners of her eyes. Hurrying off the couch, he dropped to one knee in front of her, pulling her to perch softly onto his popped knee. “What’s the matter darling?”

    Shrugging her shoulders, her lower lip trembled and she merely hid her face in Tom’s neck.  Stroking her hair and mumbling the words to ‘Moon River’ into her ears, Tom waited for her to tell him what was upsetting her. He did his best to search his mind for anything he could’ve done, anything her friend’s could’ve done, anything at home that could have upset her and came back with nothing. Tom briefly had a fleeting feeling that he was failing as her husband until it clicked in his brain that he hadn’t ever gotten down on one knee before her to present her with an actual ring.

    That night, while she snuggled into the crook of his arm, her face hidden so close to his neck that Tom could feel her lips press into his skin, he looked up some photos of rings. Each time Tom found a particularly nice ring, he’d zoom in and envision it on her lovely hands. Looking down at her hand that was loosely curled around his waist, he murmured to her sleeping form, “nobody, not even the rain,has such small hands.” His girl had been on an E.E. Cummings kick and clearly the poetry she read aloud to him had rubbed off on Tom.

    Placing his phone back into it’s charging station on their nightable, Tom laid down and  made sure to lace his fingers through her own before he shut eyes to sleep, agreeing with E. E. Cummings  that nobody had such small hands. Such small hands that a glittering ring would only compliment.

    The next weekend, as she and Tom strolled through the supermarket to grab some fresh vegetables and fruit, and maybe a loaf of bread to go along with dinner, Tom spotted the baked goods aisle. Getting completely sidetracked, Tom stood staring at the pastries while she carried on in search of the produce section. Glancing at her retreating figure and then back at the deserts, Tom grabbed an armful of cookies, cinnamon rolls and cupcakes before hurrying after her.

    Her eyes widened when she saw her boyfriend nearly skipping towards her, arms overflowing with pastries. “Tom,” she started, cocking her hip and raising her brows, “that is ridiculous. Pick one thing, we already have too many snacks as it is!”

    “No, no, darling, you don’t get it. We’d leave the cinnamon rolls for breakfast, and we could eat the cookies as a snack, and then the cupcakes could be after dinner.” Tom tried to ration.

    “Tom, I’ll eat them all and then get bigger and you know I’m trying to look good this summer!” She whined, shaking her head and silently pleading for Tom to at least put one of the items he was holding back.

    Shuffling the food around in his arms, Tom attempted to clutch all the food with only one hand. Gently moving her hair away from her eyes, Tom kissed her temple. “Darling, you know that you’re perfect. There’s nothing wrong with how you look, and nothing would be wrong with how you look even if you decided to inhale the entire pastry department on your own. I love the way you think, how kind you are to others, and you’re one of the smartest and least arrogant people that I know! I love you for your heart, and your brain. I thank the universe every night for your lungs and your kidneys, because they make you. You’re sweet-ass body just happens a perk of loving you.”

    Tom kissed her one last time before dropping down onto one knee before her, “c’mon angel, please?” He asked one last time.

    Rolling her eyes at her boyfriend’s cheesiness, she placed the cupcakes and the cinnamon rolls in her basket before leading Tom over to the fruit and asking him to pick out the crunchiest apples for their salad.

    When Tom fell to one knee again, it was after she had gone shopping with her friends and was currently modeling her new purchases at his request. She had exited the bathroom in which she was changing in, wearing an extremely short, white dress that left very little, if anything to Tom’s imagination. The dress was littered with small, red roses and had straps that were tied into a bow. As she twirled for him, Tom could see that the straps were the only thing holding her new dress together and by the time that she’d stopped her spinning, Tom was on one knee.

    “Should I take this off myself or do you wanna get up off the floor and help me?” She giggled, toying with the bow sitting atop her shoulder blade.

    As Tom carefully untied her dress and watched it fall to the ground, he muttered, “pretty ring would go nice with the roses.”

    She could barely hear what Tom had said, let alone comprehend it, as he began to pepper her exposed body with warm kisses. Stuttering out an barely audible, “uh-huh,” as Tom mouthed over the sensitive spot she had just beneath her ear.

    As time went on, “I’m on my knee,” became a phrase that she would hear from Tom almost as frequently as he said “I love you.” He’d drop to his knee in public, private, essentially everywhere they went. She was nearly convinced that Tom on his knee wouldn’t ever mean anything other than their inside joke, but little did she know how Tom feeling.

    Each time he dropped down onto one knee before her, it always made him long to obtain a ring to present her with. Considering that he was on his knee for her essentially everyday now, so much so that even the press was completely desensitized to photos of Tom on his knee before his girl, he was legitimately out and about looking for rings.

    He’d recruited his mother to assist with the search, begged Harrison, Jacob, his brothers, his father, and even her mother to help him with the search, but none of them could find a ring that Tom felt was worthy of her hands. Each time someone would send him a photo of a ring that left Tom dissatisfied, which was often, he’d simply send back the verse from ‘Somewhere I Have Never Traveled, Gladly Beyond,’ regarding the smallest of hands. At this point, nobody was sure what he meant. Once Harrison had tried to clarify what exactly the rain having tiny hands had to do with the ring search, but he came back describing a look of genuine craziness in his best mate’s eyes and decided to drop it.

    It was only after Tom had wandering into an antique shop with his mother that he found something perfect for her. The wedding ring was vintage and even came with an engagement ring, and after Tom had spent countless hours on the weekend thrifting and wandering in an out of hidden gem shops with his girl, he knew that she’d love it.

    Tom could only hide the ring for about a week. He was utter and complete shit at hiding things, especially from her, and the ring felt as if it was burning a hole through his pocket. He couldn’t wait to let the whole world know that she was going to his forever and he’d be hers for just as long. Tom just needed to create the perfect moment.

    Luckily for him, the perfect moment came the very next morning. Tom trailed behind her, kissing the back of her neck softly as she laughed and threaded her fingers up through his curls. They were deep within the poetry section of the most massive library Tom had ever seen and when she reached up to grab a novel, Tom felt as if the wind got knocked out of him. In her hands sat a copy of E. E. Cummings collected poems and while she sifted through the pages, Tom prayed inwardly to the universe for her to read the poem that he knew was destined to be hers.

    Not allowing her time to chose a poem, Tom dropped down to one knee while her back was still turned on him. Digging the ring out from the confines of his pocket, he could only get the last few lines of the poem out. “I do not know what it is about you that closes and opens; only something in me understands the voice in your eyes is deeper than all roses.”

    As Tom neared the end of the poem, she turned and opened her mouth to say the last verse with him. “Nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands.” She smiled, completely prepared to meet Tom’s eyes as she finally faced him.

    At first, the only thing her mind could register was that her boyfriend was on his knee, as always. It took her a second to take in the ring that glittered off of the library’s bright ceiling chandelier. Pressing a hand over her lips, she struggled to breath, her small hands gripping the open poetry book in her hands. “Do you mean it, Tom?” She questioned, her eyes flicking down to the ring he was presenting her with.

    His eyes were glassy in the light, and Tom smiled, “course I do, darling. I’m on my knee after all.”


I don’t play by the rules

Pairing: Peter parker x Stark! reader

Summary: Peter Parker falls hard for the new girl, and while he can’t do anything about it a certain masked hero might.

 word count: 2135

y/bf/n= Your best friend’s name

warnings: slight makeout? 

sorry in advance for any grammar mistakes, hope you enjoy it! Please tell me what you thought about it! :) 

ALSO! I! AM! TAKING! REQUESTS! SO! SEND! THOSE! IN! :)

Originally posted by tomshollandss

It happened on a Tuesday. A regular day you might say, however it was the day everything changed for Peter Parker. There he was on his chemistry class thinking it was just another boring class, another wasted hour, at least he thought that until the door opened, revealing the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

Standing in front of the class was Y/n Stark. Everybody knew who you were, your dad was Iron man, for God sake! You came in the classroom with a designer outfit and bag that was probably more expensive than Peter’s whole wardrobe.

Peter continued to watch you as the teacher told you to seat right at the front of the class. Not only were you a really pretty girl, with the brightest smile and the kindest eyes, but you also had to be very intelligent, since this was the Chemistry AP class. Well of course she is intelligent dumbass! Her father is Tony Stark! She has obviously been in his labs before!

After that first time he saw you everything went downhill. He could never gather the courage to talk to you, let alone ask you out, so he settled for watching you from afar. She probably thinks I’m a creeper, Peter thought, however he couldn’t bring himself to care. He could watch as your smile got bigger when someone told you a joke, and how your eyes will get particularly bright whenever you got a good grade at math. He didn’t care about anything else.

Not long after your arrival to the school he got his so-called “stark internship”,  or his role as Spiderman. This didn’t change much for him. He was still a nerd loser and you were still  a popular girl that was way out of his league.

“Seriously dude! how come you’ve never even said a word to her?” Ned asked Peter as they made their way into the gym.

“Is not that easy Ned! She doesn’t even know I exist!”

“But you are like, totally in love with Y/!” Peter quickly muffled Ned’s mouth, stopping the boy from saying anything else.

“Geez Ned! Don’t you want to shout it to the world?!” Peter started lowering his hand and headed towards the group of people exercising. “You can’t just go around saying that! Someone might hear you!”

“I’m sorry but, like, I still can’t believe it! Don’t you see her everyday? in the, you know, Stark Internship?”

Since Ned found out about Peter being Spider Man he had made questions non-stop, pretty ridiculous questions, if you asked Peter.

“Ned I don’t just hang out at the Avenger’s tower you know? I have to be on the streets! Besides, she is totally off limits I mean! She is Mr. Stark’s daughter! He would kill me if-”

“Shhh- SHhhhhh! Peter listen!”

This time he was the one to shut up as both boys listened to a conversation happening at the bleachers across them. It was Y/n, looking as beautiful as she always did, surrounded by her usual crowd.

“Sooo Y/n, you must be surrounded by all those superheroes at your house right? You know, because of your dad?

“Well not all the time, but yeah, they hang out pretty often” She responded, trying to sound chill about the topic. Not everybody noticed, but Peter knew just how tired she felt about having to talk about his dad and the avengers all the time. None of the people that followed her around really knew her. Yes they knew about her life and her family, but besides that no one seemed to take interest in getting to know her for real.

That was kind of the reason why he prefered to hide his identity. Well, that and the possibility of being kidnapped and killed.

“Are you friends with them?”  “Are they nice?” “Are they hot?” “Is Captain America a real blonde?”

A load of questions were asked at you, however one catched Peter’s attention again.

“Are you friends with spiderman? Do you know who he is?”

“I’ve actually never talked to him, he’s never at the tower when I’m there” she replied shrugging her shoulders. She really was clueless to the hero’s identity.

“Seriously Y/n? Weren’t you supposed to be Spiderman #1 fan?” Y/bf/n asked, as she wiggled her eyebrows at Y/n.

A blush spread to the girl’s cheeks as she smiled shyly. Of course she had a tiny crush with Spider Man (even though she didn’t have a clue of who he was), however he never seemed to hang around the tower as the other Avengers. Maybe he liked being alone.

The conversation was quickly dropped after the coach told them all to get back to work, however Ned was not done.

“Dude! She likes you!” You have to talk to her tonight!”

“She doesn’t like me! She likes Spider Man, not Peter, besides-”

“I swear to God that if you don’t make a move on her tonight I will stop being friends with her! You have to promise me you will try! Deal?

“Deal”

Could it be possible that the most beautiful girl he had ever laid his eyes on had a thing for him? Even if it was the suit she was in love with Peter couldn’t stop the smile that crept through his face all day and the knot he felt on his stomach every time he looked at Y/n.

And that is exactly why he found himself later that night ready to go talk to the girl of his dreams. He already knew the crew will be out with Mr Stark in some mission he was not allowed, so that cleared the way for him. And anyways he was always welcomed in the tower, at least that what they always told him.

“You can do this Peter, you got this”

Peter tried to give himself a little of motivation before knocking on your door,however he couldn’t find the strength to raise his hand and knock on it, he felt like a bundle of nerves! None of his previous fights or encounters had him feeling this way, he seriously needed to control himself! Peter tried once again to knock on the door only to be stopped when the door opened completely, revealing Y/n in her pj’s and her glasses, apparently ready to go to bed.

Both teenagers looked at each other with complete shook in the faces, one behind his mask of course. The girl was completely speechless, she couldn’t believe the Spider Man was in front of her! And had seen her in just some sweats! She blushed deeply as she realised her appearance.

Peter tried to think of something, anything to say to her, however he couldn’t seem to find the words. After a long silence Y/n finally broke the silence as she leaned against the door.

“I can’t believe Spider Man is at my door! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

The girl was trying to keep it together, however she was still freaking out, but she couldn’t let her stupid crush affect her! This was her chance to get to know him! She could feel her flirtier side creeping up, trying to smile wider and lean closer to the boy.

“Well- I umhh- I just wanted to- you know- visit my favorite Stark” Peter said as he tried to recover from his initial shook.

“Then I guess you are looking for my dad, however he is not around”

“I actually meant you, I’ve been waiting to meet you for a long time now”

The girl was surprised by what the boy had just said. Did he know her? How come they had never met before?

Y/n started moving inside her bedroom once again, looking over her shoulder to continue “Since I’ve got no plans for tonight you might want to hang for a while, you know, to get to know each other and stuff”

Peter did not need to be told twice before he followed her around and into her room. Well, bedroom was an understatement to what her place really looked liked. It seemed more like a apartment of her own, with a big tv are, followed by what appeared to be her studio with a shit ton of books and finally her actual bed. She went into the couch in front the TV as Peter followed her close behind. She finally seated down facing the boy.

“Why are you here with me right now and not saving the world as usual?”

“Can’t a man take a break every once in awhile? Besides, I’m pretty sure your dad is taking care of that at the moment”

“You are probably right, sooo anyways..You said you had wanted to meet me for a long time, so here I am, what is it that you wanna know?”

“Well nothing in particular- it’s just that- you are- you are a really beautiful girl”

The girl felt herself blush at the words of the boy behind the mask. He probably did have a thing for her then? There was only one way to find out the truth.

Y/n leaned closer to Peter, looking into what she supposed were his eyes and took him by the shoulder as she played with the curls in the back of his head.

“So you think I’m a beautiful girl?” She said with a teasing voice, trying to make the boy a little nervous, obviously succeeding.

“The most gorgeous I’ve meet”

Peter could say this without any hesitation. Right in front of him was the most beautiful girl on earth. Her big eyes were looking at him and she was even closer than before, he was getting kind of nervous, but her fingers in his hair kept him just in place, right where she wanted him.

“So if I’m so beautiful, how come you’ve never paid me a visit before?”

She had started talking in mere whispers, now moving her other hand into his chest, playing with the material of his suit.

“I wanted to!- I totally wanted to but- you know your dad’s rules right? I’m not really allowed to”

She started to lift his mask, revealing only his mouth before saying.

“Well Spider-boy, you should already know I don’t play by my father’s rules”

Right after she finished she crashed her lips into Peter’s making the boy let out a surprised gasp. He was kissing her! They were kissing! He couldn’t believe it!

Meanwhile the girl was feeling exactly the same. She didn’t knew where she got the guts to do it, but she was glad she did.

His fingers sanked  into her hair as they continued kissing, Peter finally out of his trance brought his other hand to the girl’s face and cupped it, deepening the kiss further.

He felt himself biting into the girl’s lips, as a quiet moan escaped her lips. Y/n pulled apart only to straddle his hips with her thighs and roll her hips along the way, giving them both a little of the friction they needed, but not enough.

Peter grabbed her waist trying to pull her closer to him, his hand making their way to her legs, touching and stroking her thighs. They were heavy breathing, kissing longer, harder, rougher. Both teenagers tried to take and taste as much as possible, urgent and desperately, fighting for dominance.

He pulled apart and went straight for her neck, sucking and biting, leaving what would sure become hickeys by the morning. His morning somewhat bored with her long legs moved to her hips once again, before sliding under her t-shirt and holding her closer, moving his hand right under her bra.

The soft whimpers that would leave her mouth every time he bite a specific part kept him going. Another movement yet another time they would feel that friction and that need to pull harder at the other.

Y/n as getting pretty tired of that stupid mask getting in the way, so she pulled apart ready to get it off him, however a noise down the kitchen distracted her. She heard her dad’s voice calling for her! The whole team was there already? How had they missed it?

Peter realised the situation as well  as he quickly pull stood up and headed towards the window.

“I really have to get going, I’m sorry!”

“Will I see you again?”

Peter pulled the girl close to him for one last kiss, a long lingering one. A kiss he had dreamed over and over again.

“Sooner than you think”

With this last words the boy pulled his mask down and disappeared through the window, swinging his way from building to building.

Man! He could not wait to tell Ned the good news!

Viral

Summary: The Ladyblog catches a private moment and Marinette is furious.

This story can also be found on FF.net and AO3.

The video was uploaded sometime after midnight early Saturday morning.  

As was usually the case after an akuma attack, Alya Cesaire had been running on a caffeine rush and adrenaline high that made sleep impossible.  The dedicated blogger would not see the back of her eyes until her copy was written, her files rendered, and her newest masterpiece was live for the entire world to see.

Or at least the majority of Paris.  She was young yet.

Fortunately for the aspiring journalist, the Ladyblog’s wide and devoted readership ensured that the hits would rack up quickly regardless of the time of posting.

What no one could have anticipated, however, was just how quickly.

It started with the local news.

Nadja Chamack’s bright-eyed good morning Paris grin punctuated the more somber news of floods, akumas, and politics with the light-hearted clip.  The segment usually reserved for heartwarming fluff pieces about eye-seeing dogs and neighborhood bake sales was instead taken over by the city’s most reliable ratings machine.

Ladybug and Chat Noir were television gold.

From there the clip hit the major news networks and was being broadcast to the whole of France. Then came the talk shows, the copycat blogs, the online articles, Buzzfeed, and more.  When the video hit the front page of Reddit there was no stopping the infection.

By the time Monday morning rolled around, less than three days after the akuma attack and the video going live, Chat Noir had become the laughing stock of Paris, the Internet, and the world.

And Marinette Dupain-Cheng was absolutely furious.

Keep reading

BTS reaction to their drunk girlfriend telling them she has a boyfriend.

Request: the s/o is drunk and they picked her up and bring her home and he’s about to remove her clothes to change into pajamas but then the s/o suddenly said that she has a boyfriend.

A/N: I really don’t know how i feel about this but I hope you enjoy it.


SEOKJIN
Jin would scold you as soon as he saw how drunk you were. He would prepare a bath so you could get out of the sleepy state. He would place his arm around your waist and walk you to the bathroom. Once you were there, he would look at you and place his hands on the hem of your dress. Sensing what he was going to do, you would scold slapping his hands. He would frown at you “I have a boyfriend you pervert shit” He would roll his eyes and shake his head “Can I take it off, please? I’m sure your boyfriend wouldn’t mind. Plus I know him, he would kill me if I didn’t take care of you” You would nod your head and place your hands on his cheeks “Trust me, he would” You would giggle while slurring your words.

Originally posted by sugaa

YOONGI
He would be complaining since he got the call from your friend but once he saw your clingy state he would smile. He would take care of you, he would make you drink lots of water and once you looked better he would take you to your bed. He would get you comfy clothes. When he started taking off your shirt you would yawn looking at him “I have a boyfriend you know” Yoongi would laugh and peck your nose once he was done. “I see you’re staying loyal, you let people undress you but you let them know you have a boyfriend”. Next morning you would wake up to him kissing your neck while wrapping his arms around you “missing your boyfriend?”

Originally posted by jeonbase

HOSEOK
This sunshine here would make sure everything is okay and how you need it. When your friend called him to tell him how drunk you were he would complain to her and get mad because they let you drink when they should be taking care of you. Once you were in his arms, he would treat you with love and make sure you were okay all the time. When you pulled away when he was trying to undress you he would look at you hurt and frown, thinking he had done something wrong. When you told him that you had the best boyfriend ever and you weren’t planning on changing him or cheating on him, he would laugh and let you sleep.

Originally posted by jaayhope

NAMJOON
When he opened the door and saw you drunk, resting your head on your friend’s shoulder, he would shake his head and take you by your hand. Inside, he would open the fridge and put you in front of it. “I read somewhere that cold helps so you’re going to stand here until you freeze” He would move his hands to your dress to get rid of it when you grabbed his hands “My boyfriend has a cool nickname, it’s monster so you better be afraid” He would ignore you pulling his away and he would try to undress you again “I don’t know if you’re dumb but I said I have a boyfriend” You would frown. “I heard you but i’m ignoring you” You would pinch his hand away “Fine fine, I’m just trying to help. You never complain when I undress you for other things”

Originally posted by sugaa


JIMIN
He would carry you to your shared room and put you down while rolling his eyes fondly. He would place his hands on your jacket to take it off before you pulled away turning around.
“Stop right there. I have a boyfriend” you squinted your eyes
“your boyfriend must be sexy” Jimin said smiling
“Oh he is and he is smol and cute I just wanna squish his cheeks” you made grabby hands as if you were imagining your boyfriend’s cheeks.
“Baby you’re so drunk, let me take care of you” he would smile moving closer and place your hands on his cheeks “mochi will take care of you”
“Mochiiiii, you’re here” you smiled and wrapped your arms around him pulling him down on top of you.

Originally posted by itschiminie

TAEHYUNG
Taehyung being as clingy he is, would pout and frown while helping you because you didn’t count on him. He would try to take your clothes off but you would pull away shaking your head “I have a boyfriend, I’m loyal, don’t try anything” He would pout looking at you “So first you drink without me, your drinking buddy. Your friends wake me up in the middle of the night because she didn’t take care of you and now you don’t even recognize me, your boyfriend. This hurts y/n” You would throw your head back groaning “just go back to undressing me, at least you didn’t talk that much, just don’t say anything to Taehyung”

Originally posted by toughchim

JUNGKOOK
He would use it against you the next morning and probably the next six years but now, seeing you so drunk and looking around confused he would take you into his arms and to your room. You would squint your eyes at him “I have a boyfriend, he is strong. He will beat your ass if you try anything” Jungkook would smirk “He must be strong if he is willing to fight me. Look at this arms” He would smirk pointing his own arms “He loves me so much” You would nod while sitting on the bed “He would do anything for me” You would smile looking down at your hands. Jungkook would take this as an opportunity “What about you? Do you love him?” He would look at you, waiting for your answer “So so so so much. This much” You would open your arms like a small kid to show him how much and he would take that moment to hug you and squeeze you saying how cute you were.

Originally posted by jeonwilds

anonymous asked:

I know you probably have a lot of requests with the gods and monsters - but would you ever do an Ares based one?

Zeus’s mistress Io remains in her form of a cow, guarded by Hera’s servant Argus, and Hera is content.

She will remain in that form until her death. Hera hopes that lying with her husband was worth the sacrifice.

Zeus won’t speak to her, unwilling to admit the cow is actually his lover and ensure her death, and equally unwilling to stand against his wife to try and rescue her. Hera has him just where she wants him, and it can’t last, it never does, but she intends to enjoy it while it does.  

Then Artemis comes to her, gold and fierce. She never flinches away from her queen, staring her in the face as if she is nothing more than another of her huntresses. If Hera did not hate her for being her husband’s daughter, she thinks she might actually like the girl. “Io has a destiny,” she says, “you must let her go.”

“I don’t care for her destiny,” Hera says idly, “especially when that destiny involves getting with my husband’s child.”

“She is to give birth to a new line of kings,” Artemis hisses, “to be the wife of a death god, to be mother goddess of a whole new people. She is not meant for us. You must let her go.”

“I am Hera,” she says, “I am Queen. I must do nothing.”

Artemis growls, hand twitching for her bow, but Hera only raises an eyebrow. Let the girl try. There are few that can stand against her, and the huntress is not among them. Artemis lets out a low breath and says, “Do it, my queen, and I will grant you what it is you most desire.”

“Some peace and quiet?” Hera asks.

“A child,” she answers. “Let Io go, let her fulfill her destiny as a goddess of the Black Land of the Nile. If you do that, I, the patron goddess of childbirth, will personally use every ounce of power I possess to ensure you conceive and deliver a child of Zeus.”

Hera’s eyes narrow, “Neither my power nor his has ever been able to achieve this. What makes you think you are any different?”

“We all have our domains,” she says, “just as you cannot command the sea, just as your husband has no power over the art of weaving, so can I ensure a healthy child when you could not.”

She taps her fingers against her throne. They call her a mother goddess, though she’s raised no children. Hephaestus may be her precious son, but he doesn’t know that it was not her that threw him from Olympus. Very few people know that. And she didn’t raise him regardless, that honor belongs to Hecate.

A child, of her and Zeus. A child she can raise.

“I accept,” she announces. “You may take her, and Zeus may fulfill her destiny.” She leans forward, brings the oppressive weight of her power to the fore and lowers the pressure of the air until Artemis is left shivering. “Know this, Patron Goddess of Childbirth. If Io births a son of Zeus before I do, I will travel to the Black Land of the Nile and slay her and her children with my own two hands. Not even Hades will be able to put her back together again.”

“Yes, my Queen,” Artemis says, unable to keep her teeth from chattering.

~

Hera is true to her word. She allows Hermes to think he’s tricked Argus and to steal Io away. She pretends to be outraged at the audacity, at the pure white cow traveling to the sands of the Nile.

Artemis is true to her word. Hera lies with Zeus, like she has so many times before, and a child grows inside of her. One day she stands before her husband and brings his hand to the swell of her stomach, “This is your child.”

Something almost like happiness steals across his face. She forgets, sometimes, that they hate each other only as much as they love each other. After so much time together, many would think it would be one or the other. They simply opted for both.

Artemis is there during the birth, her easy confidence more comforting then Hera will ever admit. Delivering Hephaestus was easy compared to this. She screams and cries and Hestia’s hands on her shoulders are all that keeps her from collapsing and begging someone to just cut the child from her. She doesn’t think she can die in childbirth, not with Artemis between her legs. She wishes she’d thought to ask before this began.

But she does not die. Her son is born, just as healthy and beautiful as Hephaestus was. “Well done,” Artemis says softly, placing the squirming child into her arms.

Zeus touches her hair and kisses his son’s forehead. “We shall call him Ares.”

“Very well,” she agrees, so tired her eyes struggle to stay open.

She hands her son to Hestia, and finally allows sleep to take her.

~

Ares grows into the spitting image of his father. Same copper-red skin, same silky black hair. Her husband keeps it short, but her son lets his grow long. The minutes Hera spends every morning brushing his hair are among her favorite.

He has an eager smile and a soft heart. Hera doesn’t know where he got it, since it’s certainly not from her or Zeus. Demeter tolerates his bumbling after her, though any time Kore attempts to meet her cousin Demeter’s temper frays. Poseidon allows Ares to explore the depths of the sea with a minor sea god acting as his guide. Apollo plays for him, and Artemis teaches him to hunt. Zeus’s lightning doesn’t burn his son, and when storms rage he takes Ares to the top of Olympus and teaches him to throw lightning bolts.

Hera selfishly does not allow Ares to go to the underworld. She knows he would be safe there, that Hades would protect him as he protected Hephaestus, but that’s precisely why she won’t allow it. They got to raise one of her sons already. It pains her to share Ares with them now.

He is happy, and kind, kinder than anyone would expect a child of her womb to be.

“He must choose a domain,” Zeus rumbles, watching Ares shoot arrows with perfect accuracy.

“He is a child still,” Hera says, “let him remain so for a little longer.”

“If he does not choose a domain,” Zeus warns, “one will choose him. We are gods. We must be gods of something.”

She flickers her gaze at him, and he scoots an inch away from her. “He is a child, and for now a child he will remain. We are not Demeter. We shall not thrust the responsibilities and power of a deity on a child who is not prepared for it.”

Zeus disapproves, but says nothing more.

Her son will be the god of something patient, something soft. The god of lost children, of heartbroken suitors, of forgiveness. Something where his gentle heart will aid him instead of hurt him.

She traded her happiness for power. She doesn’t regret it. But Ares doesn’t need to do the same – she’s the most powerful goddess that still walks the earth. He’s her son, and he’ll want for nothing she can provide.

~

Ares is almost fully grown, long hair reaching his hips even braided, and the strength of his limbs is such that he can keep up with Artemis on her most vigorous of hunts, that he can throw his father’s lightning bolts halfway across the world.

He’s been to every place, and met every god of the earth, sea, and sky.

Except for one.

 It’s not hard to find the volcano. He’s strong enough and old enough to take care of himself, and his mother does not worry when he says he’s going to the earth. But he did not tell her where, precisely, on the earth he was going.

He has strong legs.  It’s easy for him to climb to the top of the volcano. He’s almost made it there when something grabs his shoulders, stilling him. He turns, and stares into a single large eye. “What are you doing?” the cyclopes growls.

“I’m looking for Hephaestus,” he says, “He’s my brother.”

“My master has many brothers,” the cyclopes says.

Ares shakes his head. He is not the product of his father’s fling with a sprite or mortal. “I am Ares, son of Zeus and Hera. Just as Hephaestus is. I came here to meet my brother.” The cyclopes hesitates. He asks, “What’s your name?”

“Brontes,” he answers, surprised.

“Brontes,” he smiles, “I just want to meet him. I’ve never met him before. I won’t linger.”

There’s a moment where Brontes looks conflicted, and Ares tries to look as unassuming as possible. “Fine,” he huffs, “but don’t get angry at me if he dips you in lava.”

“That would be fun,” he says brightly. Lightning doesn’t burn him. So far the only thing hot enough to cause him pain is Hestia’s fire. He probably could go swimming in lava.

Brontes looks at him as if he’s slightly unhinged. He just keeps smiling.

~

There are more cyclopes underneath, and bright glittering machines that Ares can’t even begin to wrap his mind around. “Who are you?” someone demands, and a hand grabs his wrist and yanks him away from a boiling vat of lava that he’d been peering into.

He looks up at a man taller and broader than he is. He has skin almost as dark as the obsidian of his volcano, but lighter eyes. They are the color of dark amber, of molasses. “We have the same eyes,” he says happily.

Hephaestus releases him instantly. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Why not?” he asks, “The mortals talk of you. No one else will. But you’re my brother, right?”

“You shouldn’t be here,” he repeats, “Does Zeus know where you are?”

He shrugs, taking a step closer. His brother takes a step back. He wonders if he’ll have to treat Hephaestus like a spooked horse.  “Father doesn’t keep track of where I am. Mom know I’m on earth.” Hephaestus flinches, small enough that he almost doesn’t notice. “We have her eyes, you know.”

He can’t stop starring at Hephaestus’s skin. They do not work like mortals – Demeter, Hestia, Zeus, and Hera are all different shades despite coming from the same parents. But – Ares looks so much like his father. Kore looks like Demeter. Yet Hephaestus looks nothing like their father. He can see their mother in him, in the eyes and shape of his jaw, even in how angry he is right now. He looks like Hera does when she’s about to lose her temper, lips pressed into a thin line and the careful stillness of his shoulders.

“I wasn’t trying to make you angry,” he says plaintively, “I only wanted to say hello.”

Unlike their mother, Hephaestus lets out a deep breath and seemingly all of his anger along with it. “I’ve been avoiding you.”

“Why? You don’t even know me.”

Hephaestus kicks him lightly in the shin, the pretty gold and copper of his metal legs catching his eye. “You have legs, and I do not. Hera did not throw you from Mount Olympus as she threw me.”

Ares looks hard at his brother’s face. The stories say his mother threw her son away for being ugly, but he seems just as handsome as any other god Ares has seen. His features are strong and chiseled, and he supposes that could have looked unattractive on a baby, but –

– his mother loves him. Hera loves him with a ferocity only matched by her temper, she loves him at his most mischievous and irritable, loves him when a stray thunderbolt sets Demeter’s hair on end, loves him when even Artemis and Apollo have grown tired of his antics, loves him when Athena can tolerate no more of his questions. He is her son, and so her love comes without conditions.

He doesn’t think Hera would have loved his brother any less just because of how he looked.

He also knows that if he tries to say that, it’s likely Hephaestus will push him into a lava pit.

“Well, that’s not my fault,” he says, “If you don’t want us to be brothers, can’t we at least be friends?”

Hephaestus’s face softens. He looks like their mother then too.  He crosses his arms, “You can’t tell your parents.”

Our parents, he thinks but doesn’t say. “Obviously. Where did you get so many cyclopes?”

The last remnants of his brother’s stern façade shatters as he throws back his head and laughs.

~

Ares is very near maturity, more adult than child, and his father constantly pressures him to choose a domain. He usually quiets with one sharp glance from his wife, but the fact remains that it is time for Ares to take his place among the gods of the pantheon, to have temples in his name and worshipers like a proper deity.

He doesn’t really want any of that.  He wants to continue hunting with Artemis, learning with Athena, building with Hephaestus.

His brother lets him help out in his workshop sometimes, if he’s very careful and does exactly as he’s told. Otherwise he sits on a table, legs swinging, and watches his brother work and tells him about what he does in the time in-between visits. He talks about their mother enough that Hephaestus doesn’t flinch at her every mention, which Ares can only consider an improvement. Sometimes Brontes will stand beside him and they’ll eat sweet buns together.

Unfortunately, all things, good and bad, must come to an end.

~

There are two giants, Otus and Ephialtes, who grow tired of hearing of the golden boy of Olympus, who grow jealous of his kindness and his beauty.

These two giants sneak onto Mount Olympus in the middle of the night, sneak into Ares’s room, and kidnap him. They’re not stupid enough to attempt to kill him. Instead, they stuff him into an urn, and seal him inside. Ares rages and fights, uses every trick he can think of to break out his prison, but none of them work.

Stuck at the bottom of the urn and seething, he can’t help but think that if he’d listened to his father and chosen a dominion he might be strong enough to free himself. But he didn’t, so he can’t, and instead he waits.

And waits.

And waits.

Days turn to weeks turn to months. He knows they’re looking for him. He knows his mother will tear apart the whole universe attempting to find him if nothing else. But – what if they can’t? What if he’s stuck in this urn for the rest of eternity?

In his darkest moments, his sorrow turns to rage. He is a god, son of Hera and Zeus, how dare they do this to him?

Then, one day, the urn opens.

Hermes peers down into it, then his face splits into a grin. “We’ve been looking for you!” He reaches down and hauls Ares out, and for a moment all he can do is blink at the glaring sun. Then his vision clears, and he sees they’re in the midst of a battle. The giants are fighting against the gods, against his parents, against the twins, against his brother. It’s bloody carnage, but – he can’t help but feel touched that all these people came looking for him. “Almost everyone offered to help find you,” he says, “but Hera didn’t want to draw too much attention to ourselves trying to sneak into their territory.”

No sooner has Hermes finished speaking than a giant barrels into his mother with sickening snap. Her shoulder slopes at a grotesque angle, but it hardly even slows her down.

“I have to help,” he says, a desperate urgency filling him. They came to help him, and now they’re getting hurt. That’s never something he’d wanted.

“Ares, wait!” Hermes calls out as he goes hurtling toward the battle. He doesn’t wait. Fighting on the ground can only do so much good, they’re strong but they’re outnumbered one hundred to one. He darts to Artemis, twisting around the bodies she’s throwing over her shoulder. “I need your bow!”

“Ares!” she says joyously, then, “What?”

“Trust me,” he says, “give me your bow.” A giant comes running towards them. Artemis flips him over her shoulder while continuing to stare at him in confusion. He’d be impressed if he wasn’t so worried. “Artemis, please!”

She hands over her bow. She moves to give him her quiver of arrows as well, but he’s already moving away from her. Next it’s to his father, who’s hurtling lightning bolts towards the swarm of giants crowding him. They’re deadly, but only so effective at close-range. He grabs a sizzling lightning bolt right from Zeus’s hand, the only being on the planet who could do that and survive, and keeps running. “Get clear!” he calls out over his shoulder. “Everyone move!”

He runs up past Hermes, needing to get to high ground for this to work. “Get everyone off the battlefield,” he says to Hermes. “Now.”

Hermes pulls a face, but by the time he makes it to the top of the mountain, the gods have shaken off most of the giants, are far enough away that he doesn’t have to worry.

He can do this. He’s Ares, the son of Hera and Zeus. He’s been trained in archery by the great huntress herself. He breaths in, and strings his father’s lightning bolt like an arrow. He pulls it back, breaths out, and lets the lightning bolt fly.

It lands in the middle of the battlefield full of confused giants. With a great clap of thunder and a burst of light, they’re all gone.

All that remains of the traitorous giants is a crater.

The gods are approaching him, his mother at a limping gait that makes his chest ache. Zeus gets to him first, grin stretched wide as he grabs him by both his shoulders. “My boy! That was magnificent!”

“Thanks,” he says. The smell of charred flesh is in the air, and it makes his stomach roll.

They kidnapped him. They stuffed him in an urn for over a year. They hurt his mom.

That doesn’t mean he enjoyed it. He never wants to do anything like that ever again.

“This was destiny,” his father says enthusiastically, and Ares has no idea what he’s talking about. “This is what you’re meant to do, son.”

He stares. He hopes it’s not.

The other gods are still at the bottom of the mountain. Artemis and Apollo each have one of his mother’s arms slung over their shoulders and are helping her up the mountain. Hermes and Hephaestus aren’t far behind.

He’s never seen his father look so proud of him. There’s a leaden pit in his stomach he can’t explain.

“In honor of my son’s great feat,” Zeus booms, his voice carrying across air, speaking with the voice of the king of the gods so his words become law, so they spread to every corner of the world, “I declare him Ares, God of War.”

Ares can’t breathe.

This isn’t what he wanted.


gods and monsters series, part xvii

read more of the gods and monsters series here

Toffee’s goal theory

To the ones who believe he’s gone (snif) consider this a panegyric.

I was re-watching the scene when Toffee told the group that Star was gone and I noticed some facts: 

What is the first thing Toffee does after recovering his body? 

Hahahaha… yeah, sorry, now let’s get serious, actually what I want to talk about is this:

He just leaves after saying that. Without even trying to hurt anyone else. 

But of course Moon didn’t like that at all.

The very first thing she does is to try to hit him. Because the grief makes her only think on hurting him, and punches is the most direct way. 

But it doesn’t work. So she starts to use her head a bit and uses the spell that Eclipsa taught her so she could destroy him even if that means the ultimate evil will come back. Yes I call her “ultimate evil”, fight me if you want, or remind me that “she only wanted a candy and her freedom and didn’t seem bad” well let me tell you that it only means she has personality and she can hold a normal and educated conversation, and let me tell you that I don’t believe someone capable of creating spells which cause crying and eternal suffering is any good.

He just stands. 

Nothing happens. And he’s not surprised at all. After all, he corrupted all magic so it wouldn’t work anymore.

After Marco’s attempt to kill him yes I skipped that part, I can talk about that later if you want, but now we’re talking about this he just graps Moon and half digs her into a hole man, he has streght! and he leaves. 

We know that Toffee wanted revenge and get his former streght back. Now it’s looks like it’s ALL HE WANTED. Not to take the kingdom, not to kill Moon. She took everything from him and he did the same. He wanted her to suffer. When he half dig her it would be like he was saying “You stay there with your pain, grief and the wrecks around you of all your ever build and cared. I’m done with you. ”

Man, that was harcore and ruthless.

Ink and Kisses

Anon said to moi:

“Omg i want a tattoo artist jungkook!!!!!! 😭😩 smut/fluff/and honestly anything!!!! I just love tattoos artists jungkook but there aren’t alot of those fanfic…. can u help a poor girl out ??💖”

FIRst time trying a Tattoo artist AU. I had to do some reading before this, and JK is sO sexy i s2g. Still weird that I don’t really ever feel like doing the do with him. HOPE YOU ENJOY <3 1,400 Words

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Tattooist au!

Part 1 | Part 2 (FINAL)

Originally posted by nnochu

No one would have ever imagined that hardcore badass Jeon Jungkook, the most well-known tattoo artist in the town, the guy who dropped out to follow his passion, was best friends with beautiful, sweet, top-scoring university student, Y/N. 

Physically, they seemed to be polar opposites. He had dragons inked onto his skin, three piercings on his left ear and two on his right, and always wore black; whilst you were a bright, clean slate – but you knew that was what he loved about you.

Keep reading

8

LOIS:  Look, Clark, I know that I got a little thorny when you raised the red flag on A.C.
CLARK:  I was just trying to look out for you.
LOIS:  And I appreciate it.  I’ve just never had someone to help guide me through the shark-infested ocean of romance. … Not that I can’t fend for myself.
CLARK:  You know, I think I was wrong about our friend A.C.

Hers

And there he stands in all his glory, laughing at something Chris Nolan said to him, a glass of whisky in his hand and his arm around her waist. And all I could do was stand here, from afar, watching them.

“He’ll notice if you keep staring, darling.” Anne handed me a glass of champagne.

“I-I-I was not staring. Just looking how wonderful they are together.” I could feel my face turn red by the second.

“Oh, darling, don’t try to fool yourself, I know you have feelings for him.” She smiled lightly at me. “Actually, I always thought you’re going to be together.”

My smile faltered and I looked at the floor. Silly Y/N, of course Anne knew. Apparently, everybody did! The boys, Gemma, Lou and now Anne. Clearly, I am not very good in hiding my feelings for my best friend. The guy who knows me better than anyone and yet can’t realize how much I adore him.

Harry and I have been friends since we were kids, really. Eventually we went separate ways: He went out to become the biggest celebrity out there and I went to college. Even though we lived in different worlds, we never stopped talking. We’re still best friends even after all this time.

I love him.

But it wasn’t always like this. When we’re younger, our parents used to tell us we would eventually get married. We’re too perfect for each other, that’s something we always knew, even though we didn’t have this types of feeling for each other.

It was in my senior year of college that this said feelings started to show. I spent a few weeks with him and the boys while they’re on tour and suddenly I started to fall for my best friend. If you have seen any movie out there, you would think that the feeling was mutual and we’re happily ever after. Not how things turned out, I’m afraid to tell you. I spent 6 weeks trying to find a way to tell him my feelings, even asked for the boys’ help, but when I was close to figure a way out, he met her. And gosh, how much he adored her. Since the beginning!

You know that stupid line that said when you love someone, you gotta let them go and find their happiness? His happiness was she and I couldn’t stand in the way of that. Even though I knew I loved him more than she could ever love him, it was time for me to set him free.

So I came back. Came to the UK, finished college and found a job I actually like. My life is all put together, as Harry likes to remind me. He’s right, my life is put together, except for my love life. I tried so hard to get over him, to not have feelings for him. I dated, I tried everything I could, but he was always there, in the back of my mind, even when I met my ex-boyfriend, Daniel. We broke up a few months later because he knew I had feelings for my best friend. Poor Dan, such a nice guy and I couldn’t love him.

Harry came back home. And moved in with her, much to my dismay. They’re together for 3 years now and they don’t seem to be breaking up anytime soon. I’m not gonna lie, I’ve thought about telling him, just to get it out of my chest, but I can’t. I cannot ruin this for him. I would rather suffer in silence than ruin his happiness and our friendship.

“Have you thought about telling him?” She asked me while we watched the couple from afar.

“I did.” I whispered. “I just can’t. He’s happy, Anne. He deserves to be happy.”

“My son is a fool, darling. He doesn’t know, but he does have feelings for you. A mother always know and I’m telling you he does. But I understand your side, I just don’t wanna see you both losing time with other people when you could be together!”

I breathed a laugh. Anne was always our biggest supporter, so it’s not a shock to me she would rather me with her son than his actual girlfriend. The poor girl is not a bad girl; she’s just not right for him.

She doesn’t get it how he can be such a morning person, always waking up at a 100%, telling everyone ‘good morning’ in his raspy voice. She thinks its annoying, but the truth is if he doesn’t do this, we’ll go back to sleep and miss his whole day. She doesn’t get his obsession for good health, but if she just asked him about it, she would understand he actually believes that those junk foods can kill you slowly, and he can’t lose anyone in his life, so we all have to eat health food. At least around him. She doesn’t understand how he can feel so down after reading mean comments on the internet, because for her how could The Harry Styles feel anything less than perfect?! He thinks he’s not worth it, even though he truly does deserve everything good that ever happened to him. However, he has insecurities, because by the end of the day, he is just Harry. And all he really wants is cuddles and a few reassurance words that those people are just mean people and are not telling the truth.

She doesn’t know him and a part of me thinks she just doesn’t want to. Yes, she knows what he likes for breakfast, what calms him when his in a bad mood, but she doesn’t know the little things I do.

It’s sad, if you think about it. He’s been with her for 3 years and she doesn’t get him. Maybe that’s why when he needs someone, he runs to me. He runs to my house at 3 A.M just so he could talk about his bad day. She never saw him cry, because he only cries when we’re alone and he can truly show his feelings. I’m the first person he calls when something good or bad happens. I’m his emergence contact in the hospital, I’m his safe place to go when he needs to just take a break. I’m the one who could leave her whole life on hold, just to take care of him when needed.

It’s sad because even thought I am his person, I’m not his and he’s not mine. She has him and I can’t truly express how much I wish that could be me.

“He looks nervous.” I pointed out to Anne.

“I was about to ask you this… Do you know why? He’s been like this for a few weeks now.” She looked deep in thought, trying to find a reason for her son odd behavior.

“I think…” I was interrupted by Louis, who looked out of breath.

“You need to stop him, he will make a terrible mistake, please Y/N, stop him!”

“Louis, what’s going on? What are you talking about? Breathe, Lou.”

“You don’t get it, he’ll…”

“Can I have everyone’s attention, please?” Harry called out from the center of the room. The party quickly died down, waiting for his speech. “I would like to thank you all for coming to my Dunkirk party. It’s so nice to enjoy the movie’s success with all of you, so thank you!”

Everyone around the room clapped and Louis was fussing by side. He looks nervous and I couldn’t understand why.

“As you know this is a special night for me and I wanted to be even more special. Lexa, can you come here, darling?” He asked his girlfriend to join him and I could already feel the tension growing around me. Anne, Louis, Niall, Liam, Lou and Gemma surrounded me and we all were just waiting for something to happen. Anything.

“Lexa, we’ve been together for 3 years next week and I feel so blessed to have you by side. I was smitten with you since the moment I saw you, you can ask Y/N for confirmation.” Everybody laughed a little and I could feel a knot in my through already. “So, in this special date for me and surrounded by friends and family, I would like to ask you…” he got down on one knee. “Will you marry me?”

And just like that my world stopped. I couldn’t hear anything, but I could see her nod and everyone clap for them. I think the boys were talking to me, but I could barely understand what was happening.

He proposed to her.

He is hers.

She is his.

And just like that I realized that all these years loving him, taking care of him, weren’t enough to make him fall for me. I was a silly girl who believed in the fairy tale that everyone thought we would live. I loved him with everything in me, I was always his but he was never mine.

And just like that I ran out of the party, leaving everyone – including the love of my life – behind.

I was always his.

He was never mine.

He was always hers.

*** 

It’s been a while, I know, but I hope you’ve liked this. Please, leave me your thoughts about this oneshot, talk to me pleeease. Sorry for any mistakes, English is not my first language!

All the love, B. 

MASTERLIST

Gladio, Iggy and Noct are on their roadtrip when they come across a bunch of cars spread across the road
Battered and smoking
Some have been flipped over the barrier, people littering the ground as well as bodies of beasts and the black sludge that’s a telltale sign of demons

All the devastation converges on one car somewhat down the incline so they decided to check it out

Theyre almost on the car when a shot rings out and only Gladio’s quick reflexes saves them as he gets his shield out and up

‘W-who goes there??’

(Full story under the cut)

Keep reading

they call her maid maleen

for the first few trembling years of her life, she is a princess. she is the daughter to the king, born of his beloved wife and of her visage. her dark eyes have the appearance of a smoky quarts and her mother carefully twists her mass of black hair into a hundred small braids down her back. she is a beautiful, quiet child, and for a while all is well. they call her princess maleen.

then her mother dies. it seems as if the king is determined to bury his love for his daughter along with his queen. he moves her to a different wing of the castle, and refuses to see her. her tutors are let go, and the nobles’ children are no longer allowed to play with her. only the maids look after her now.

the king remarries. the new queen gives birth to a son, and maleen is forgotten completely, banished from a home she still resides in and a life she can now only watch unfold.

the maids take care of her, braid her hair and kiss the blisters on her fingers, teach her to scrub at porcelain and polish silver, to clean a fireplace and mop polished marble floors.

they call her maid maleen.

~

the king has a son by his new wife, and then a daughter. they are pale and fair-haired like their mother, with only their dark eyes to show they are the king’s children. but they inherit none of their parents’ beauty, have faces that don’t look quite right and bodies that get stuck between gangly and chubby and never settle into one or the other. princess gisella and prince jan are privately regarded as unfortunate products of a lovely union.

maid maleen spends long hours working, and has neither the time nor funds for creams to soften her skin or oils to care for her hair, has never used face powder or lip color.

maid maleen is twenty three years old, and the most beautiful woman in the kingdom.

her braids are wrapped carefully atop her head, but when she lets them loose they hang past her hips. her dark skin is made even darker thanks to long hours working in the palace garden, and her eyes have never lost that same curious light. she walks straight and strong, years of hard labor giving her muscles and definition to her body that she never would have had as a princess. boys and girls give her long, considering looks and flirtatious smiles, and nobles have to double-take when she passes them by.

no one speaks of it anymore. but maid maleen looks ever more like her beautiful late mother, has the same eyes as her father, and dressing in ill-fitting cast offs and running her ragged can’t hide the truth.

maid maleen is the king’s daughter.

she has accepted her life as a maid in the palace she was one day set to inherit, and tries to see it as a gift. she sleeps with who she likes, may marry whichever of the charming boys from the city who’s smile she likes best. in the maids who raised her she has more mothers than she has fingers, and perhaps she longs for the days when she was a small princess, when she was the apple of her parents’ eye, when the whole of their nation was to be hers to inherit.

but then the blacksmith’s daughter lets her hands linger a little too long on her wrists, and maleen knows that she won’t be sleeping alone tonight. there are some things that worth more to her than a throne she was born to. she doesn’t miss the little girl she used to be.

until.

tensions have always run high between their kingdom and the neighboring one – too many squabbles over borders, over trade agreements, over patrols, over anything and everything the kings can find a reason to be upset about, it seems like. so when prince wolfgang is sent over, the whole palace is abuzz. the prince seems determined to inherit a peaceful land, and is coming over to talk with the king to do it.

maleen does not care for princes. nor for nobles of any rank, in fact. she remembers how they turned on her, she sees the small acts of pettiness and cruelty they thoughtlessly inflict on their servants, and she wants nothing to do with it. commoners may not be as educated as nobles, may not have as many objects to call their own, but maleen finds she prefers their company to that of lords. she’s uninterested in this prince, which is perhaps why she’s the one that gets sent to his rooms. her moms can trust that she at least won’t fawn over him.

“sir wolfgang,” she murmurs, pushing open his door and giving a low curtsy, keeping her eyes trained on his mud covered boots. “is there anything you require?”

silence. she can only stay bent in a curtsey so long before she loses patience. she’s almost given up on him, is about to cut her losses and call it a night when he says, hesitant, “queen sabine?”

her mother’s name is punch to her gut, and her head snaps up at the sound of it, the rolling fire of her temper bubbling just below her skin. “i am maid maleen,” she snaps, then tacks on “your highness,” after a moment’s consideration.

his cloak is half unbuttoned as he stares at her with a slack mouth. she supposes he would not look unhandsome if he were not currently doing his best to imitate a frog. he appears to be only a handful of years older than she is, and if she were not furious she would be impressed that he remembers her mother well enough to see sabine in her.

“maleen,” he repeats, and for a moment she wonders if he will recognize her as well, but he only says, “my apologies. if you would help me with my cloak, i would be much obliged.”

she’s instantly suspicious. she’s met nice nobles before, ones that were considerate and remembered her name and thanked her when she brought them wine. but she’s never met a nice prince before – they’re always of the worst sort. “yes, your highness,” she says, and the cloak is soaked through and clinging, it’s no wonder he’s struggling with it. once she’s gotten it off she hangs it to dry, then goes back to him. she slaps away his numb, struggling fingers and undoes the rest of the buckles and loops of his overly complicated clothing. she’s gotten down him down to an undershirt and pants when his hands grab hers. she blinks and looks up. he has freckles dusting across his nose.

“this is inappropriate,” he says, but honestly she’s stripped a lot of nobles, it wasn’t weird until he took her hands and looked at her like no one’s ever looked at her before.

“yes, your highness,” she agrees, and takes a step back. she places his clothes in front of a fire, curtsies, and leaves. she can feel the weight of his gaze on her all the way back to her room.

wolfgang continues his diplomatic agenda, having long meetings with the royal family. after, maleen goes and tends to him, setting out his food and taking care of his clothes, straightening up any mess that he’s made. at first he’s quiet, and he just watches her, but he quickly discovers that maleen has opinions and thoughts and isn’t afraid to share them. soon they’re debating the finer points of trade routes and arguing the effectiveness of a sliding tax scale, and maleen comes to cherish the evenings she spends with the prince, likes the way he speaks to her and looks at her, likes the shape of his smile.

weeks in she enters his room, dinner steaming in her hands and eager to continue their conversation about state funded orphanages versus a state funded foster system. he’s pacing and tense, shoulder stiff. “wolfgang,” she sets down the food and wipes her hands on her apron, “is something wrong?”

“is it true?” he asks, and he’s not looking at her. he’s always looked at her before.

“is what true?” she flinches away from his coldness, is already preparing to retreat and hide and beg someone else to watch over him.

he turns to her, and she’s baffled by the mixture of hope and anger on his face. “are you the king’s daughter? are you princess maleen?”

she takes a step back, “i am maid maleen.”

“please,” he follows her as she steps away from him, and her back hits the wall. he stops when he’s almost close enough to touch. “my father sent me here with the goal to seal our new treaty with a marriage. he expects me to marry princess gisella. but if you are the daughter of the king – then he will allow me to marry you instead!”

“who says i want to marry you?” she retorts, but he gets on bended knee and she freezes.

he holds a hand for her own, and against every bit of logic, she gives it to him. “maleen, i’ve never felt this way about anyone. i was willing enough to enter a loveless marriage before i knew what true love is, but now i do, and i can’t go back. marry me.”

she wants to. she thinks she loves him. she hadn’t been planning to fall in love with anyone. “i am the king’s daughter,” she tells him, “but i am no princess. i haven’t been a princess in a long time.”

he brings her hand to his mouth so he can kiss each one of her knuckles, “then we’ll have to change that.”

~

wolfgang goes to the king to make his case, to return maleen to her birthright and allow her to marry him.

it goes even worse than maleen had feared.

her father is furious. he’s so angry at the audacity of this request that prince wolfgang is thrown from the kingdom. so incensed is he, that guards drag maleen from her bed in the middle of the night and throw her into a tower. the door closes shut behind them, and she bangs on it and screams but no one comes for her.

there are no windows, and only one door with a sliding metal grate in the bottom. she’s high in the tower, she thinks, from the number of steps she’d been forced to climb, but she stands on a dirt floor. the room contains only the bare minimum needed for survival, and nothing more.

once a week food is slid through the slot in the door. she has to be careful, because if she eats it too fast they will not provide more, she will just starve. days turn to weeks turn to months, and she despairs of ever being let out of this tower. months turn to years, and she gives up hope entirely of leaving this tower. she considers refusing to eat, killing herself slowly through starvation, because death is preferable to life locked in this tower.

one night there’s a scuffle, and shouting, and for the first time since she was shoved inside the door opens. there’s a guard standing there, and princess gisella tentatively steps inside. “maid ma – i mean, maleen?”

maleen stares. this is the first time she’s seen another person in years, and suddenly for all the screaming she’d done she can’t find her voice. gisella takes another cautious step forward, “maleen, please – we don’t have much time.” she holds out her hand, “come with me.”

gisella is sixteen now. although she’ll never be a great beauty, she’s grown into many of the features that she was once mocked for. “where?” she asks, but takes gisella’s hand and lets her lead them down the twisting staircase. anyplace is better than the tower.

“i’m to be married in a week’s time to prince wolfgang.” maleen feels a sharp pain go through her chest. had wolfgang forgotten her? their farce of a romance was such a quick, shallow thing. she was a fool to fall for it in the first place. “i’m not going to show up. you are.”

she stares, “what?”

“wolfgang started a war over father locking you in the tower,” she explains, “but eventually it got to a point where neither could justify it, so our father and wolfgang’s decided our union would mean peace between our countries, as intended. but i don’t want to marry prince wolfgang, and he does not want to marry me.”

“i don’t understand,” she hadn’t paid much attention to the girl when they were in the palace together, and she’s regretting that now.

they finally reach the end of the tower. it’s the first time she’s breathed fresh air in years. she tries not to get distracted by it, and instead focuses on the carriage to her left, and the pure black mare laden like a pack mule on her right. “i’m leaving,” gisella says, “i don’t want to be wolfgang’s bride because i want to be klaus’s,” the guard smiles, and he must be klaus, the princess is rejecting a prince to run away with a commoner. “there’s a map and everything you need in the saddlebags. the wedding dress is waiting for you at the castle. no one will know you’re not me until wolfgang unveils you, and by then it will be too late. he will marry you, and i will be gone.”

“why are you doing this?” she asks.

gisella shrugs, “you’re my sister, and father is an idiot. i want you to be happy, and i want wolfgang to be happy, and i want to be happy too. this way we all get what we want. our brother will be waiting for you in wolfgang’s castle. he’ll help you.”

maleen is speechless. gisella grabs her in a quick hug – the only one they’ve ever shared – and then goes to the carriage with klaus trailing behind her. “i’ll see you again, princess maleen!”

she doesn’t have time for tears. she gets on the mare, and rides for the palace of the neighboring land.

~

she makes it just in time. she sneaks into the castle the night before the wedding, ducking around servants until she find her way to jan’s door. she knocks, tentative, wondering if this was a mistake and all one elaborate trap. but the door opens and his face slackens in relief, “finally!” he pulls her inside, and sits her down. there’s lukewarm water waiting for her so she can clean herself, and jan stands with his back to her the whole time, outlining the wedding and how it will go so she knows what to expect the next day. “father isn’t here,” he assures her, “he didn’t want to leave the kingdom, so i’m here in his stead.”

“won’t you miss your sister?” maleen finishes washing and wraps herself in a soft blanket.

“when i am king, gisella will return,” he says confidently, “she will come home and bring klaus, and you will rule here with wolfgang, and all will be well. our countries shall be great allies when it is me and wolfgang on the throne.”

he’s only a year older than gisella, just seventeen, and maleen feels oddly old next to them, feels old next to these children who know what they want and take it and don’t let anything stand in their way.

“we need to get your hair rebraided,” he says, “you should look perfect tomorrow. it’s your wedding day.”

she stares, aghast. “that will take all night!”

“i’ve brought help,” he says, and sends a servant down the hall. the servant returns with a half dozen of the maids who raised her, and who crowd forward and hug her and kiss her cheeks and say how much they’ve missed her. princess or not, bride or not, to them she will always be their little maid maleen.

~

it’s clear gisella picked her wedding dress with maleen in mind. it fits her for one thing, and is clinging and heavy, and it must have looked awful on gisella, but on her it’s perfect. her dress is accompanied by white silk gloves and a thick veil so that no one can see her, so that no one will know she’s not the daughter of the king they’re expecting to be there.

wolfgang is at the end of the aisle, looking like he’s going to an execution, and it takes more self control than maleen was anticipating not to go running to him. she turns to him, and he lifts her veil. he sees her and freezes, mouth sliding open. she winks at him, because they just need to keep it together until they’re married, he just has to keep his cool for a few minutes and they’ll have won it all. wolfgang closes his mouth and says nothing about how this is clearly not the bride he was supposed to marry. they turn so none of the guests can see them, and the priest gives maleen a confused look, but with a glare from wolfgang he continues on with the ceremony as if nothing is out of place.

“you may now kiss the bride,” the priest says, after what seems like an eternity.

wolfgang grabs her about the waist, dips her, and kisses her soundly on the mouth. her veil falls off and she can hear the horrified and shocked gasps of the guests, and under that jan’s laughter. when they break apart, foreheads still pressed together, she whispers, “hello, prince wolfgang.”

he kisses her again, quick and sweet, and does nothing at all to disguise the joy in his face. “hello, princess maleen.”

and they all lived happily ever after.


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