and she still remembers him and the stories that were told of him

anonymous asked:

maybe a scenario where zen has a gf but you're also in love with him????? ahhhh sorry I just love your scenarios and I want to see more of them ^^

Author’s note: mwahahhaha HAPPY BIRTHDAY ZENNYYYY

The Other Girl

She tilted her head back and laughed, flashing the room with her bright smile. The dress she wore perfectly accented her figure, and her blonde hair flowed down her back like a golden waterfall. She had a straight nose, and pretty blue eyes. In other words, she was perfect.

Of course, you wouldn’t expect anything less from Zen’s girlfriend.

Zen and Hana had met while shooting a car commercial. She was a model who was trying to start her acting career, and he was desperate for a new job. It was, as Zen put it, “love at first scene.” Now, on their five month anniversary, you and the rest of the RFA were sitting around Zen’s living room, laughing and celebrating the couple. There was only one problem.

You were in love with Zen, too.

“That was hilarious,” Hana wiped a tear from her eye. She sighed and snuggled deeper into Zen’s chest.

He smiled and kissed the top of her head, “Aren’t I the luckiest guy in the world?”

A familiar pain stung your heart. You bit your lip and looked away, focusing on the concerned look Seven was giving you instead.

“Stop it,” you mouthed silently.

He rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he mouthed back, giving you another pitying look.

Seven was the only other person that knew about your feelings, and surprisingly, he had been a complete and total sweetheart about it. He would always talk you up to Zen, trying to help your relationship move forward. You actually thought it might have gone somewhere, if it hadn’t been for Hana. After the two got together, Seven stayed right by your side. You closed your eyes, remembering the night after Zen told you about his newly found girlfriend.

“Uh-huh…yeah… that’s great! Okay, Zen, go and call the others. Yes, I’m sure they’ll all be thrilled! Okay, bye.”

You hung up the phone and held it to your chest. I can’t believe he has a girlfriend… and it’s not me.

You covered your mouth to keep the sobs from escaping. The phone in your hand became heavy as your felt your legs get weaker. Slowly, you made your way over to the couch and sat down, placing your cell next to you. Looking at your shaking hands you moved it back and forth in front of your face. I feel like I’m in a dream. Maybe it’s-

DING DONG

The doorbell interrupted your thoughts. You bit your lip and stayed still, hoping whoever was there would go away.

DING DONG, DING DONG

Who the hell would come here at this hour?

You walked over to the door, your legs feeling like they were treading through quicksand. Reaching out, you cracked open the door to see who it was.

“Seven?”

You mentally scolded yourself for the way your voice cracked. You looked up at your friend as he stood on your front porch, ice cream in one hand and wine in the other.

“Can I come in?”

“Please.”

He pushed past you and walked into your kitchen. You heard the freezer door open and shut, followed by the clinking of glass. He returned with two glasses of wine and set them down on your coffee table. You stared at him.

“…So, what are you-”

You were stopped by a bone-crushing hug. Seven wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into his chest, burying his head in your hair.

“Zen called me first and told me. He said he was going to call you next, so I came over here… I’m so sorry.”

He loosened his grip and you pulled your head back. “I-I’m fine, you don’t have to worry!”

Seven looked at you and tilted your head up toward him. “You don’t have to lie… not with me.”

“…MC??”

Your eyes shot open when you heard Zen calling your name.

“Y-Yeah?”

You looked around the room, making eye contact with each of the RFA members. Why are they all staring?

“Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

Zen gave you a look and then bit his lip. “You’re crying.”

Your hand shot up to your face like lightning. When you felt the dampness around your eyes, your chest tightened.

“I’m gonna go get some air,” you stood up and walked toward the balcony.

“If you need anything just ask,” you heard Hana call out behind you. Quickly, you made your way outside.

Finally.

Frantically, you wiped the tears from your eyes. In an attempt to distract yourself, you looked up at the stars above you. It’s just like that night with Zen… the night when we looked at the stars together.

Your mouth formed soft smile as you began to recall what happened that night. Regardless of whom Zen was with, that moment would always be yours.

A sudden burst of wind pulled you out of your reminiscing. The bitter night air burned your chapped lips and sent a shiver down your spine. You looked down to your waist and around your area. Damnit, I forgot my-

“Looking for this?”

Seven stood behind you, holding up your jacket.

“Yeah,” you grabbed it from him, quickly slipping into it, “Thanks, Luciel.”

Seven eyebrows quirked, “Luciel? You almost never call me that.”

“I know,” you looked up at him, “I just need you to understand how much I really mean it. Thank you for everything.”

You could help but notice the slight blush forming on his cheeks. He scratched the back of his neck.

“Well… ah, whatever.”

He reached out and grabbed your wrist, pulling you into a hug.

“I’ll always be here for you.”

You smiled into his chest, letting his words comfort your broken heart.

After a while, you pulled away from him. “Let’s go back inside.”

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah.”

Following Seven inside, you sat back down in your original spot, and after a while it was like you had never left.

“-And that’s the first time I ever hacked into a database!”

As Seven finished his story, you couldn’t help but smile. Slyly, you looked around to see everyone else’s reactions.

That’s when you noticed it.

The ice cold glare Zen was giving you.

The hell?

Laundry Room (M)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader 
Genre: Smut. 
Word count: 3.1k 

Part one: Kitchen Counter.

Summary: He was about to dive back in for your mouth, but you successfully held his jaw so he couldn’t move in any further, leaving your lips only inches apart. “Your sister’s down the hall.” You whispered against his mouth. He groaned in disapproval of you trying to reject him before speaking again, “She’s not gonna come in here.” 


Keep reading

The Prince (M)

Originally posted by shinenamjoon

↳ Pt 1 (1/?)
Pairing: Jimin x reader 
Genre: Inspired by Ever After | Royal; Arranged Marriage AU.
Information: Recommended song here. I have uploaded this onto my Wattpad and A03 if it looks familiar ayoo. Raiona in Māori means lion <3 Happy reading.
→ Summary: You refuse to marry the youngest prince of the Raiona Kingdom. 

“They just keep coming!”

Sorting through letters, it finally begins to sink through the valves of your heart. You were nothing but currency to the royal family, expendable to royal intermarriage for the sake of forming an alliance; an act that would bond faraway kingdoms together; a kinship of sorts. 

Keep reading

The Fourth Musketeer (Part 2)

Originally posted by fyeahriverdale

Part one here

Requests: I just read The Fourth Musketeer and I’m in love! Will you release the next part soon? I can’t wait ❤❤❤

Can u please do a part 2 of “the four musketeer” please?

I know requests are closed and so please don’t even rush with this request like honestly take however long you want to, but I actually need a 2nd part of ‘the fourth musketeer’ your writing is so amazing!

Pairing: Archie x Reader

Description: Veronica has become invested in (Y/N)’s story, and so she seeks out those who knew her.

Warnings: none

Word count: 1,437

Tag list: @isis278 @lost-in-wonderland-x @spam-to-follow@thatspidernamedmeagan @isabellarose5150

A/N: I have been having so much fun writing this series, hope you guys enjoy this part!


“(Y/N)” was the only word that came out of Veronica’s mouth as she sat down at the lunch table. Jughead, Betty, and Kevin’s heads all snapped up.

“How do you know about (Y/N)?” Kevin questioned.  Veronica shrugged.

“Archie was kind of having a meltdown at Jughead’s party,” she answered.  Betty and Jughead shared a concerned look.

“God, what happened?” Betty asked.

“He was screaming her name when I came up,” Veronica explained.  "He babbled on about how much he loved her and that he should’ve told her and that he kissed her.“

“Wait, he kissed her?” Kevin interrupted, his eyes doubling in size.  He glanced over at Jughead and Betty who appeared to be just as shocked as he was.

“You didn’t know?” Veronica’s eyes widened.

“No,” Jughead muttered, shaking his head.  "He never told us.“

“We always knew they had a thing for each other,” Kevin elaborated.  "But we never knew that something actually happened between them.“

"When did she move?”

“Two years ago,” Jughead answered.  "The summer before eighth grade.“

"There was this dance,” Betty reminisced, “in the fall of our eighth grade year.”

“Archie was gonna ask (Y/N),” Jughead frowned.  "He was preparing himself ever since he first heard about the dance.“

"And he never got the chance,” Kevin sighed.

“Do you know why she moved?” Veronica inquired.  The rest of her table shrugged.

“Probably her dad,” Betty replied.  "He was a really intense lawyer, and he got relocated to some big city firm.“

”(Y/N) was gonna try and stay with the Andrews,“ said Jughead.  "They were more than willing to take her in, too. But-”

“But, of course, her parents wanted her to go with them,” Veronica finished.  Jughead grimly nodded.  "So two whole years, and Archie still isn’t over this girl?“

"Well the thing is,” Betty grimaced, “he never coped well with her leaving.  After (Y/N) left he was… strange.  He practically denied her existence.”

“Seriously?”

"Yeah,” Kevin chimed in.  "He never talked about her or anything.  It was pretty frightening, actually.  It seemed like he had completely forgotten about her.“

"And if you’re wondering why Archie can’t get over her,” Jughead answered Veronica’s unasked question, “it’s because he was always in love with her.”

“Yeah, he told me that,” she mumbled.

“I don’t think you understand though,” he said.  "They were both so in love.  They were always there for each other, caring for each other.  When Archie’s parents were fighting, (Y/N) was there; whenever (Y/N)’s dog died, Archie was there.  You couldn’t find one without the other.  Betty and I were also good friends with them, but those two?  They were inseparable.“


Maybe it was Veronica’s fascination with dramatic love stories; maybe it was her desire for an explanation as to why Archie didn’t return her feelings for him.  Either way, she found herself searching for more information about (Y/N).  That was how she ended up at the Andrews household.  Archie wasn’t home.

”(Y/N)?“ Fred Andrews repeated, holding a beer as he sat across from Veronica.  "I haven’t heard that name in a while.”

“I, on the contrary, have been hearing her name quite a lot lately,” Veronica shrugged, sipping on a glass of water.  "So what happened between her and Archie?“

"Oh, I don’t think it’s my place to say,” Mr. Andrews sighed.  "It’s Archie’s tale to tell.“

"He already told me about her,” Veronica quickly explained.  "But only the happy parts.  Only the parts he wants to remember.“  Mr. Andrews exhaled and took another swig of beer.  He stared at Veronica for a moment in silence.

"Why do you want to know?” he finally asked.

“I like hearing stories,” she shrugged. “This sounds like a good book.”  Fred Andrews laughed.

“If this was a book,” he responded, “my son would’ve had a happy ending with that girl.”

“Maybe he will,” Veronica offered.  "I don’t think the story’s over yet.“  Fred’s laughter shrunk into a smile.  He cleared his throat.

"If there’s one thing you should know about (Y/N),” he started, “it’s that she is the purest soul you will ever meet.  She was kind and gentle, and she was exactly what Archie needed.”  Veronica quietly nodded, intrigued.  "I knew both her father and mother quite well.  So, of course, when our children were born around the same time, we knew we wanted them to be best friends.  A couple years later, we realized we wanted them to get married.“  Fred Andrews and Veronica both laughed.  "Sometimes in the movies you see the boy and girl resisting each other because when you’re little, it’s gross to talk to someone who’s the opposite gender.  That was never the case with Archie and (Y/N).  They were both sweet on each other.”

“That’s so cute,” Veronica cooed.

“It was,” Mr. Andrews sighed.  "I remember this one day; I think Archie was eleven at the time.  He and (Y/N) were at the park all day, as they usually were.  That night, he came running home and swung the door open.  His mouth was going at a mile per minute.  When I finally got him to slow down, he told me that he was in love with (Y/N).  He had the biggest grin on his face.“

"The day he kissed her?” Veronica clarified.  Mr. Andrews chuckled.

“Yeah.  God, it made me so happy.  I knew that he sometimes overheard his mom and I fighting, and I was worried that it would somehow affect his relationships.  That kind of stuff damages a kid, you know?  But he had stars in his eyes as he talked about (Y/N), and I don’t think I’ve seen him that happy since then.”

“I heard you offered to take her in,” Veronica changed the subject, “when she was going to move.”  Fred Andrews stiffly nodded.

“Archie’s mom and I fought a lot.  But (Y/N)’s parents?  That poor kid.  She slept over here so many times because the screaming was keeping her awake.  And the saddest part was she never cried or appeared to be sad.  She would just come in here, clutching Archie’s hand, looking up at me with big sad eyes and politely asked me to stay.  Of course, I never refused.”  Veronica frowned.  "When I heard she was moving, I was concerned about how crushed Archie was, sure, but I couldn’t bear to let (Y/N) go off on her own with her parents.  At least when she was in Riverdale, I knew she had a safe place here.  Now, I don’t know if she has one.“  He took a long swig of beer before continuing. ”(Y/N) was like a daughter to me.  Archie isn’t the only one who loved her.“

"Sounds like a special girl,” Veronica commented.  Fred nodded.

“She was.”


“Have you ever considered writing a book about this?”  Veronica sat across from Jughead in Pop’s.  He lightly glared at her, lowering his laptop lid.

“Write about what?” he snapped.  She had interrupted his writing when he was in the zone.

“(Y/N),” she answered.  Jughead shot a glance at Betty.

“You know before Jason Blossom was shot, (Y/N) and Archie were the most interesting things in Riverdale.”

“Wasn’t there a two-year gap between (Y/N) leaving and Jason getting shot?” Veronica inquired.

“Isn’t it interesting that someone so in love could just pretend that the person they loved never existed?” Betty countered on Jughead’s behalf.

“Touché,” Veronica muttered.

“Anyways, to answer your question, of course I’ve considered it,” Jughead said.  "In fact, I already wrote a whole novel.“

"Seriously?” Betty and Veronica exclaimed simultaneously.  Jughead nodded nonchalantly.

“Of course.  But I do think something is missing,” he responded.  Veronica furrowed her eyebrows.

“What do you mean?”

“Well I kept it non-fiction,” he elaborated.  "I didn’t add anything that didn’t happen.  Although, I guess now I’ll have to put in the kiss.  Anyways, I don’t have a plot twist.“

”(Y/N) moving isn’t plot twist enough for you?“ Betty asked a question this time.

"That’s the climax,” he explained.  "Everything that happened after that was the falling action.  I have no plot twist and no resolution.“  All three sitting at the table furrowed their eyebrows.  A faint jingle alerted the diner that there was a new customer.  Betty casually glanced up and then did a double take at what she saw.  She gripped Jughead’s arm.

"Is that plot twist enough for you?” she whispered, gesturing towards the entrance.  Jughead and Veronica’s gaze both snapped towards the front, their focus attaching to the figure who just walked in.

“No way,” Jughead breathed.

“Is that…” Veronica trailed off, unable to form a sentence.  Jughead and Betty both nodded, confirming her suspicions.

“(Y/N).”

anonymous asked:

Hi, I just wanted to say the the gods & monsters series is one of the most wonderful things I've read. I know that some already have Hades in them but could you please do one about Hades and Persephone meeting? That would be amazing, thank you

Apollo comes to her, warm and smiling. He likes her body, its gentle curves, the flawless skin, how it shines with the youth and strength of spring. He is the sun and she is the earth, and it is from his rays that she gains her strength, and it would be expected of them to love each other. The god is golden, from his skin to his hair to his mischievous eyes, and there is not an inch of him that is not as lovely as the rays of sunlight peeking through the leaves.

Kore is not stupid. She knows Apollo does not linger, that she will be a wife in name and little else; he will lie with her and worship her and then grow bored of her.

Hermes comes to her, eyes sharp and hands gentle. He likes her mind, her acuteness, the way she views the world as a gem cutter would a raw emerald. He is wings and air and she is firmly rooted in the earth, she is as far from him as one can be, but his skin and hers are the exact same shade and she finds the shape of his mouth pleasing. She likes the way he considers her his equal.

But Hermes is meant to fly, spends his time carrying messages for Zeus and meddling in things that ought not to be meddled in. He may be a fine enough man, but he’s no husband.

She has two offers – each from powerful gods, each attractive and clever. There’s no reason she should find them both as unappealing as congealed chicken fat, yet she does.

“I do not often find you alone,” a deep, feminine voice says, and Kore suppresses a sigh as she turns to greet the approaching woman. She sits deep in the forest under a blossoming apple tree, but this is not her dominion alone.

“I am not often alone,” she concedes, observing the blood soaked goddess. “I’m assuming none of that is yours?”

Artemis doesn’t have enough hair to toss it over her shoulder, but she runs a hand through it, pushing it out of her face and streaking it copper in the process. “Of course not. I hope you weren’t too attached to the bucks of this forest.”

“Animals are not my concern,” she answers, “Besides, I am the goddess of spring, and therefore am born from death. It would be foolish of me to reject that which bore me.”

“Funny you should say that,” she says, “since all of Olympus is gossiping about how desperately you seek to leave the sanctuary of what bore you.”

Kore raises an eyebrow. Artemis is clumsy with her words, but she supposes the woman has never had a need to be otherwise. There are few as transparently straightforward as the huntress. She smiles, “Perhaps it is more funny, dear cousin, how easily the words prison and sanctuary become entangled.“

Artemis crosses her arms and sucks her lower lips between her teeth. “No,” she says finally, sobering, “I don’t think that’s very funny at all.”

Kore arranges her skirts around her, the green of the thread and that of the grass nearly identical. “If you’re here to plead your brother’s case for my hand, I’m willing to listen.”

The huntress snorts, derisive, and Kore raises an eyebrow. “I would not recommend my brother’s hand,” she says, “There are other parts of his anatomy which leave many satisfied, however, if that falls within your interests.”

“I am a more desirable bride as a virgin,” she answers instead of saying that the thought of touching a man she does not love makes her skin crawl. Artemis laughs as if she just told a joke, but if so Kore is ignorant of the punchline.

She does not know if she could love either Hermes or Apollo, at least not for the eternity that marks a god’s impossibly long life. It would result in a rather lackluster love making, which is presumably their main goal in pursuing her.

She dislikes her options. Behind her is the gilded cage of her mother’s overprotectiveness, and ahead of her lies the gilded cage of a loveless marriage.

“Kore,” Artemis says, frowning, “if – if you are to defy Demeter, you must go someplace that she cannot enter, a place where her magic cannot reach you.”

“Where might that be?” Kore asks dryly, “She is as I am – all that grows from this earth is our domain. Perhaps in the sea I could hide from her, but Poseidon is no friend of mine and has no reason to grant me asylum.”

Artemis shrugs, a wry twist to her lips. She cracks her neck on either side and walks back from where she came, but not before calling out over her shoulder, “I guess there is no such place Kore, goddess of spring, born of death and Demeter.“

Kore is still for a long time, staring at the place where Artemis stood.

Perhaps she is not so clumsy with her words after all.

 ~

Slipping away from her mother’s watchful eye is always monstrous task, even more so since the rumors of her proposals, but she manages. She finds the River Styx and follows it against its current, walking past and through all the warning sign that she’s gone too far, ignores the prickle along her skin as she crosses the threshold from this world to the next.

Almost immediately she comes across a hooded figure standing besides a small boat. “Charon,” she greets confidently. She tries to catch a peek under his hood, but he tilts his head away from her and manages to give the impression that he’s frowning at her even though she can’t see his face. “I need passage across the river.”

“You are not dead, lady goddess,” he says.

She holds out a shiny gold coin, “I can pay.”

“You are not dead,” he repeats, “You may not be ferried across.”

She nearly snaps at him, but instead takes a firm hold on her temper and thinks. Charon did not say she was not permitted to enter the underworld, only that he may not ferry her across. She peeks into the rushing river. It’s so powerful and fast that it churns grey foam and the water itself looks black, or perhaps that is simply whatever lies beneath. She skims her hand across the surface and the skin of her fingertips comes away burned and blistering.

“May I swim?” she asks.

“There are no rules preventing the impossible,” he tells her, but his shoulders stiffen as if he’s grown nervous.

Kore is not nervous. Either she survives and manages to enter the underworld, or she dies and Charon will have no choice but to ferry her across.

She sheds her gown – it will only weigh her down and get in her way. “My lady goddess,” Charon says, and Kore would almost say he sounds panicked. “Please do not –”

She jumps into the river.

It burns all over, white hot pain that makes her want to scream, but she has no interest in discovering what would happen if she were to swallow any of this supposed water. The current fights against her at every turn, and her muscles bunch and strain to not be swept away. It’s improbably difficult, the most difficult thing she’s ever done, but she grasps the edge of the shore with peeling hands and heaves her bloody body unto the ground.

Her entire body is one throbbing wound. Perhaps she should have listened to Charon before diving headfirst into the river, but it’s too late for regrets.

“Are you insane?” a thunderous voice demands, and then she’s being lifted by strong arms until she’s settled against a muscular chest.

She forces her eyes open, and the man glaring down at her has hair the color of the night sky and skin as pale as bone. His nose is long and sharp, his mouth wide and thin. The only bits of colors are his eyes, a green so dark that at first glance they look black. She raises a hand and cups his face, and the water clinging to her doesn’t seem to hurt him the way it hurt her. “Hades,” she says, and everything pains her just as much as before but his skin soothes hers. The skin on her palms comes away healed.

He’s angry with her, but his touch is gentle. There’s not a stitch of clothing on her, but he doesn’t glance or grope, only pulls her against him and uses the sleeve of his robe to clear the burning water from her face. “Yes, insane goddess, I am Hades.”

She had not meant to meet him, only to hide among his realm until she could think of a better plan. But she likes him already, an instantaneous and childish feeling, one she can’t remember having before.

She turns into his chest and lets out a pleased sigh, content to go wherever he brings her.

“They call me Kore.”



gods and monsters series, part vii

Last night episode was personally the best episode arrow has ever produced. This was a very deep character study of oliver queen. It tied perfectly to his time in the island, his state of mind when he came back to starling as the hood, and present day oliver. After all, they are the same man just in very different states of mind.

To understand this episode properly I think we must remember that for five years Oliver Queen was a slave of circumstances and others. For five years his entire existence was out of his control. He had no control over his circumstances, over his body, over how his body was shaped into a weapon and how his body was used as a means to an end. For five years Oliver Queen wasn’t treated as a human being but shaped into a weapon that you could use as you pleased to achieve whatever purpose you had. 

That matters because all that contributed to how and why Oliver slowly but surely stopped seeing himself as a person as a human being. Instead for five years the darkest side of human nature were fostered and used and abused. He was constantly pushed into dark headspaces were he still had no control. Slowly he began to think of himself as a monster who carried great darkness with him. He began thinking he was irredeemable. 

Talia confirmed that for him. She saw that monster and that darkness. And she provided him with a mask to channel that into action. Oliver bought into that. I think for him that was who he really was…he wasn’t someone he was something. something else. He was the weapon that was in the making for five years. 

When Oliver came back to Starling city he really didn’t think himself as a person he thought of himself as something. Oliver Queen was just a vessel for the monster. He needed him because it gave him a form but really all he cared about was The Hood. 

S1 Oliver probably did find pay off in killing and to an extent it did probably bring him a sort of enjoyment. Not in the sense that he wanted to kill just to kill but in the sense that he believed he was helping but also he was finally in control again. Killing gave him control. This is a man who for five years was used and abused and forced into a weapon. So yes, finally having control over your body and skills was probably exhilarating to him. S1 Oliver was darkness. He was a man who believed he was a monster and irredeemable but if he had to live he was going to be in control and try to do something good. That’s why he did. But at first he had no motivation to try to find another way because he had no concerns over his humanity simply because he didn’t believe he had one. 

This is why s1 Oliver struggled so much with reconnecting with his family and friends. This is why s1 Oliver couldn’t trust his best friend, mother, and sister  would love present day him because in his mind there was nothing left of that person. Now he was a weapon. He was darkness and a monster. He still loved them though. Oliver has always loved them. It doesn’t matter how people used him or how they destroyed his perception of himself the one thing he never lost was his ability to love his family and friends with everything he’s got. But even then he loved them in the best way he could and for him that was loving them by keeping them away from the monster he saw when he looked in the mirror. He wanted to let them believe he was still the man they loved and lost because that would help them. And he could give them that mask. 

I think that changed slowly through Diggle & Felicity because Diggle & Felicity met Oliver at his lowest and darkest time. When he had given up on his humanity and his ability to be someone other than a weapon. Earning their trust and love changed him because they saw goodness in him. This was later extended to Tommy, Moira and Thea. Tommy finding out his secret and before he died telling him he wasn’t all those awful things. Moira telling him she knew and she was proud of him. Thea reacting with love, support, and pride when she found out about his secret. All these things scraped the rust that had formed over his perception of himself. So yes, he started to believe he is a hero and that made all the difference in his life. Oliver found a purpose in his mission of helping people. 

Its a beautiful story because when Oliver told Prometheus his friends are his strength he wasn’t lying.

 Oliver’s entire journey has been shaped by love. The love he has for his family and friends and the love they have for him. The love he has because at the end of the day he guarded this in the deepest part of his heart and never let anyone take that from him. He never stopped loving them. Their love for him because in a way it slowly began to rescue him. Their love prove to him that he was worth loving that he must have some light in him- even when he didn’t know what that was. He knew it was there.

Now the hardest part is that unfortunately that is all not enough. It is not enough if he can’t love himself. And at the end of the day that has always been Oliver’s biggest and hardest battle. The one within. Learning to love himself again. Learning to believe in himself again. Learning to see himself as someone who is human, flawed, but at the end of the day still good and worth it. This is all something Oliver has to do for himself. Felicity can’t do it for him. Thea can’t do it for him. Diggle can’t do it for him. It is something only Oliver Queen can do for himself. 

I love Arrow and Oliver Queen because Oliver’s journey is one grounded on the resilience of the human soul and our ability to come back from the darkest of places and find goodness within ourselves. It is a journey about learning to love oneself despite our flaws and our darkest parts. It is about learning to harness the goodness and light without ignoring that most of us carry darkness within. It is about choosing to be good despite our losses, circumstances and flaws. 

Oliver’s most courageous battle has always been the one to save himself. 

K A I R O S | 05 |

/ˈkīräs/

(n.) the perfect, delicate, crucial moment; the fleeting rightness of time and place that creates the opportune atmosphere for action, words, or movement

An arranged marriage AU.

Paring: OT7.
Genre: fluff, angst, a lot of suggestive parts and eventual smut.
Waring: Mild sexual content
Word count: 6.1k
Author’s note: Part 5 is the final chapter, I am discontinuing the series. An ending post with a summarized ending will be posted along with a short explanation as to why I’m discontinuing. Overall, thank you for reading guys!

Parts: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 (M) |

“But mom, I’m not going to live with a bunch of strangers-!”

“I had the maids pack your things last night, your bags are outside.”

//

Cliche is underrated.

Especially when you just got kicked out of your own house by your ever so loving parents to stay with seven boys you’ve only heard notorious things about.

Oh, and you’re supposed to pick one to marry by the end of next month

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Escape:  the residency years

Claire sat cross-legged on the bench outside of the hospital.  She was trying to decide if she should call Jamie or take the bus home after her appointment. Her OB-GYN had given her the all clear today.  

Six weeks.

Six weeks since she’d lost her daughter.  Six weeks since her body had survived a bloody nightmare.  

You can resume a normal life, her doctor had said.  

There was nothing normal about her life, except for the hospital.  Her life as a doctor was normal in that chaotic, hectic way.  

Her home life wasn’t normal.  Jamie was quiet, and distant.  Some nights she would see him at his drafting table gazing off, unfocused, his face a mix of sadness, and introspection.  Some nights she would get home from working late, and see him on the fire escape sipping from his tumbler of whisky.  He was a strong man, yet even he had his limits.  

She wasn’t normal.  She felt and looked different.  She was softer now.  Her mind, her body, her strength all so much softer than before.  Her stomach was far from the flat plane it once was.  Her mind was plagued by insecurities, what ifs and why me. 

You can resume a normal life.

It was time to reconnect.  Reconnect with her husband, with herself, and with her dreams.  

Claire unfolded herself from the bench, gathered her things, and began walking to the bus stop.  She was standing at the corner waiting for the light to change when the small shop caught her eye.  Normally she would walk past. That was for other women.  Life was no longer normal, so maybe a trip to that shop would be what she needed.  A suit of armor, so to speak.  

She crossed the street and pushed open the glass door.  


Jamie was waiting for her text.  He’d asked her to tell him what the doctor said, and she nodded absentmindedly.  He didn’t want to badger her, so he waited. He checked his phone obsessively, and fought against the impulse to call her and ask. By three o’clock he’d had enough of waiting.

“Gu ifrinn le e!” Jamie said, and started to pack up for the day.

 “Willie!” he shouted to the outer office.  

His assistant lifted his head.  “Aye, Jamie?”  

“We’re done for the day, mate.  Let’s go.  It’s Friday. We’re knocking off early.”


Jamie walked into the flat laden down with his computer bag, and two grocery sacks.  He bustled in banging into the door frame, his keys wound around a finger, and the post in his mouth.  

“Claire!” he said, and dropped the envelopes in surprise. He laboured over to the kitchen trying not to drop anything else.  “What are you doing home so early?”

“I could ask you the same thing?  And what’s all this?”  Claire got up from the sofa to check out what her husband had brought home. The floppy leaves of fresh leeks were sticking out from one of the brown bags, and in the other she could see the tiny spears from a bunch of asparagus peeking over its edge.

“Ach.  It’s been a long week.  Willie and I skived off early.  Also,” he said a little sheepishly, “I saw this dish on Instagram today and I wanted to try it.”  

“Jamie Oliver?” Claire laughed.  Ever since she started her residency Jamie had done the cooking, and once she got pregnant –

You can resume a normal life.

“Aye.”  Claire’s breath caught at his smile.  Jamie really did have the most beautiful smile.  “Risotto.”

“Oooooo!”  Claire started removing the foodstuffs.  

Jamie looked at this wife.  She was freshly showered, her curls drying around her face. She had on one of those wee dresses she found so comfortable, and that he found sexy.  He could see most of her legs, and the fabric clung to the curve of her bottom.

“Ye look beautiful, Claire.”  

She paused for a moment, and glanced up at her husband.  It was his voice that stopped her.  That mixture of wonder and awe that sometimes crept into it. She could see truth in his eyes.  After all he had witnessed, after all the ugliness, he still found her beautiful.  His compliment was a soothing balm to her mental wounds.  She walked around the counter, and placing her hands on the sides of his jaw, kissed him softly on the mouth.  

“Thank you.  Now go change.  I’m starving.”  


Dinner was amazing.  The risotto was delicious, and it did his heart good to hear Claire laugh as he tried to juggle the recipe on his phone and imitate Jamie Oliver while he cooked.  They’d had wine, and talked.  Claire told stories of people at the hospital that made him laugh until he ached.  He caught her up on the recent projects at the Distillery and showed her a couple of his newest designs.  

When he sat down on the couch with a beer and turned on one of his many recorded rugby games, she stole upstairs.

You can resume a normal life.

Jamie stretched his long legs out in front of him. He sipped from his beer, still content from dinner and the fact that Scotland was winning.  It took him a minute to register the shape at the top of the stairs.

“Jesus.  God.  Claire.”  He fumbled trying to put down the bottle without knocking it sideways.  He almost missed the table because he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her.

Her breasts were plump over the barest of lace cups.  He couldn’t tell from this distance but there was no way they covered her areolas.  The panties hugged her low on her hips.  Her hair was a riot of curls dancing over one shoulder, thick and full.  She smiled like the devil herself, twirling one curl around her index finger.  Well, if that wasn’t a damn metaphor for how he felt right now.      

Red.  She was wearing scarlet red lingerie.  

She set him afire.  

Mesmerized he walked slowly, one bare foot in front of the other, to the bottom of the stairs.  

“Holy Mother of God.”

Claire laughed out loud.

“What?  What did I say?  Are ye laughing at me?”  Jamie’s brain was completely addled.  

“Yes, I most certainly am!”  She couldn’t stop giggling.  

What had he said that was so funny?  

“You can call me Claire, darling,” she added, teasingly.

Jamie bit his lip.  Aye, she wasn’t exactly the image of an angel.  “Don’t make fun, Claire, or ye’ll get what ye deserve.”  

“Promise?”  The vixen turned, and walked away.  The scrap of lace from behind framed her bottom in such a way that her bare skin resembled the shape of a heart.  

He groaned and missed the first step, swearing as he stubbed a toe.  The sight of her bare arse swaying in front of him was too much.  He sprinted up the stairs two at a time.  

Their bedroom was dark, just the light from the hallway seeped through his first few steps into the room.  He moved to turn on a lamp but she stopped him.

“Please don’t.”  Claire stood by the foot of the bed, twisting her fingers.   She was nervous.  She had been offered so many opinions. Women telling her it would be different.  It would hurt.  Don’t expect too much.  

“What’s this, then?”  Jamie approached her cautiously.

She shrugged.  Her eyes begged him to acquiesce to her request.    

Jamie moved to the window and opened the curtains. The pale gray light of the streetlights coupled with the moon bathed her in a pearly glow.  She was luminescent.  Claire covered her tummy, just below her belly button.  Ah. So that’s how it is.  Jamie moved toward her slowly, linked his pinky fingers through hers and slowly drew her hands away from her body, and the flesh they covered.  One red striation snaked down the left side of her tummy.  Her belly button was droopy.  Jamie looked at his wife, and saw the insecurity in her eyes.  

“It’s ugly,” she whispered.  

You can resume a normal life.

“Aye,” Jamie whispered back.  “I ken a wee bit about scars, Sassenach.”  He let go of her hands, and pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it to the side.  “I ken how they make ye look at yerself.”  He turned his back to her, and spoke over his shoulder.  “Because I once looked at myself, and felt ugly, too.”  

Claire made a small noise that made him turn around and face her once more, fingers tapping nervously on his thigh.  Claire needed his reassurance.  He would give her the same gift she gave him years before.

“I remember every minute, every second of that first time we made love.  Ye walked around me, and ran yer hands over my back.  I waited to see revulsion in yer expression, and when I looked at ye, weel, I saw lust.”  Jamie chuckled. “Ye’ve no idea how relieved I was because by then I was so turned on I couldna bear it if ye walked away.”  

Claire smiled at the memory.

He ran his index finger lightly down her stretch mark, and hooked it under the lace edge of her panty.  He heard her breath hitch.  He tugged at the fabric, just enough to knock her off balance so she had to take a step toward him.  He placed his big hands on either side of her, and slowly ran them over her hips and down her backside.  He cupped her, lifting her slightly.  Her face was close to his, her mouth a fraction away.  “Now kiss me, mo neighean donn, and let me show ye how beautiful ye are to me.”

Claire grabbed her husband’s shoulders, and hung on. He kissed her, pouring all of his love into that first meeting of their mouths.  She ran her hands over him, feeling his familiar scars.  The scars that made him Jamie, and no one else. This big man who was the gentlest of lovers when she needed him to be. 

Tonight, she needed him to take the lead.  She surrendered herself to him, let him turn her around in his arms and hold her against his chest.  Let him run his hands over her body, feeling the weight of her breasts as he kissed the side of her neck.  Let him slide a hand down over her soft stomach, and find the heat between her legs, making her feel warm, and sexy while he nipped at her lobes.

Jamie led her by the hand to their bed.  He slid off her panties, murmuring in Gaelic, his eyes hooded.  He worshiped her body, kissed every inch of her skin.  He ran his tongue down her stretch mark, and kissed her misshapen belly button.  He took her slender legs and placed them over his shoulders, making her writhe and buck, and finally shatter.  

Then, he stood and shucked his jeans.  Climbing onto the bed, he nestled himself between Claire’s thighs before she could catch her breath.  He balanced on his elbows, and kissed her again.  

He felt her tense beneath him.

Jamie pulled back and looked at her.  “What’s wrong, mo graidh?”  

“I’m scared,” she breathed.  “I’m scared it will be different for you.”

You can resume a normal life.

“Och, aye.  After 2 months without my wife, it’ll feel different right enough.  It’ll feel like Heaven.”  He bumped his nose against hers, waggling his eyebrows.  

Claire did not smile.  “They say,” she swallowed, rubbing the back of his neck. “They say after you give birth that it’s….it feels….looser, down there.  To a man.”

A Dhia, she was struggling. Jamie had no idea that Claire had all of these thoughts battling inside her head.  While he appreciated her honesty, she picked a fine time to reveal her anxieties, when he was fit to bursting.  He took a deep breath, and brushed her hair away from her face.  Laughing through dinner relaxed her.  Their banter on the stairs relaxed her.  He’d carry on with the humour.  

“Is this yer way of saying size matters, Sassenach?”  He teased her with the tip of himself.  “Are ye afraid ye’ll find me lacking?”

Claire grinned, and slapped his bottom.  “That is not what I meant, and you know it!”

Jamie took that moment, when her legs relaxed, to enter her.  She arched her back, and gasped.

“Can ye feel that?” he asked, breath hot against her neck.  “For I surely can.” He kissed her, licking her bottom lip.  “And it feels like I’m home.”

You can resume a normal life.

It did feel like home.  Jamie was right.  He was in her arms, and in her body, and it felt like it had a hundred times before.  It didn’t matter what she looked like, how many stretch marks she had.  Even the damn lingerie didn’t matter. This was right.  This was perfect.

In response Claire locked her legs around his back.  She shifted and settled him deeper between her thighs. Reaching up, she brought his head down for a scorching kiss that had him rocking instinctively.  She gave him all of herself and took nothing in return.  When Jamie shouted and stiffened above her she felt the joy of loving him fill her heart.


Jamie’s head was pressed against her neck as he tried to catch his breath.

“So, where did ye find this?”  He pulled at the strap of her bra.  

“At that lingerie shop near the hospital bus stop.  The doctor said I could ‘resume a normal life’ and I wasn’t sure I could without a bit of help.  A suit of armor, so to speak.” She ran a hand over his bicep.

“Christ, Sassenach.  Dinna show up to battle like that again.”  He dropped a kiss on her shoulder, and mumbled sleepily.  “My heart canna take it.”  

Claire woke up some time later to the sound of cheering. Slipping out of bed she stole downstairs to find the television still on, and Jamie’s beer warm on the table. She hit the button on the remote, and silence fell. She took his bottle to the sink, and turned off the lights.  

Darkness in the flat allowed her to look out the window at the lights of Edinburgh.  She could see the fire escape that mirrored their stairs inside. She had taken those outside steps, cautiously, years ago, not knowing where it would lead her.  Now, she was on the inside, having taken those steps towards love, marriage, medical school, and a family.     

As she climbed up on her way back to bed she laughed softly thinking of how Jamie had bolted up these stairs tonight at the sight of her.  Honestly, why had she worried so much?  Scars be damned. They didn’t change how she looked at him, how could she have been so shallow as to think hers would have mattered to him?  Resuming a normal life had made her think that how they had been living for the past six weeks was somehow abnormal.  Wrong. Flawed.

It wasn’t.  

They would carry their scars together.  The ones on their bodies, and the scar of losing Faith on their hearts.  Together.  Forward in life.  

She crawled into bed next to her husband,and stroked the russet coloured curls back from his forehead.  He smiled briefly, and her heart melted. Jamie was still Jamie.  They still found pleasure in each other’s bodies.  They still had the same dreams.

Everything was normal.  

Save Me A Dance

Pairing: Y/N/Calum

Rating: All

Request: Yes

Words: 4.000+

Summary: Y/N is sad at her best friend’s wedding when realizing that she’s so behind, she doesn’t have a future with someone and most probably will end up alone. That changes when Calum catches her at the hallway ready to leave and proves that it doesn’t take the title of husband and wife to have the best dance of her life

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Y/N hasn’t left his side since he found her a week ago and he can’t say it’s the worst thing. Sure, she can be a menace and an absolute nuisance at times, and she eats all of his food, but she expresses her gratitude in his saving and feeding her by protecting him, whether it be from seedy burglars or a raccoon that had scampered in through his open patio door. And he can’t say the company isn’t nice either, since he’d never liked being alone in the first place.

“Harry,” she begins, voice soft, low, and borderline monotone that drags him from his reverie, and he looks towards where she sits besides him on the couch, “I’m bored. Can we go to the grocery store?”

His brows furrow, “We went yesterday, what could you possibly need from the grocery store?”

“Milk, please.”  She stands up and grabs his keys, her gestural way of saying that she is going with or without him, “And Little Debbie.”

or

Y/N is 100% not a human 

(this is part 1 of a small little series I’ll be writing in between one shots!!) 

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More Headcanons

I headcanon Lance as bi. I also sort of self project the way I grew up and how my family is/was on him too…? Anyways, more langst

-Lance never thought it was weird that he was attracted to both genders until he was 11
-He first told his mom and she told him it was just a phase
-His older siblings laughed and teased him for it, calling him many slurs
-Slowly he grew to hate himself for being attracted to men and started to become more and more homophobic
- When he was 13, he met a boy in the summer who was gay
-He dated said boy in secret while denying who he was all the while
-His younger sister caught him with the boy and told their parents
-Lance never thought he’d ever see his mom so disgusted with him
-At the same time, he never thought his Dad who seemed the least accepting, would accept him and try to help him
-Lance started to realize as he got older that no men wanted to date him because he was bi
-So he thought it’d be easier to pass as hetro, though by now he was no longer homophobic but was trying to help out in LGBT community
-Lance’s older siblings started to become more understanding of the LGBT community and was no longer homophobic
-His mom understood but didn’t except that he was bi. Instead she’d talk about how it was a phase in his life
-He knew deep down that she’s never accept him
-Growing up, Lance was a middle child
-He never really got new clothes, being able to have hand-me-downs from his older siblings
-But his younger siblings got new clothes as by the time he was down with his, they were outdated
-He tries not to think too much about the times he’d get locked out after walking around late
-It wasn’t their fault, they just didn’t notice he was gone
-When his anxiety was starting to get bad, he had to hide it because his family rejected the idea that anyone could have a mental illness in their family
-He learned how to cry silently early in his life, so it was no surprise that no one knew when he was having an anxiety attack
-His self esteem issues started pretty early in his life
-His older siblings, one was a genius and the other was a troublemaker
-Whatever he did was average in his eyes and only his friends congratulated him
-It would never feel as good as it would’ve been coming from his parents
-When he’d get into trouble or hang around a “dangerous” crowd, his parents didn’t seem to care too much
-His “dangerous” crowd was pretty much just his group of friends which consisted of an addict, an alcoholic, a pot head, a kid who came from a rough home and two high school drop outs who dealt with mental illness, and the other poverty
-Some of his friends knew gang members but it wasn’t an issue because they’d never bring them around
-When Lance got an 89% on an exam, they threw him a little party on the beach by a campfire
-They’d all celebrate each other’s success and Lance started to call them family
-Lance’s siblings always forgot he was with them when they’d tell a story, or they’d replace him with a different sibling
-His own mom and dad started to do that as well
-He started to feel like he was replaceable and forgettable
-He started to fall into depression around the time he was 12, though he never realized it was depression until he was 15
-He started self harming when he 11, a little bit after he came out
-At first it was anger, he felt like he deserved to be treated like crap
-It soon turned ugly as he started to notice more and more things he wasn’t good at and traits that were displeasing
-When he was 15-16, his friends noticed the scars he carefully kept hidden and they tried so hard to help him
-Lance learned that he didn’t want their help as it felt more like pity which only fed into his self-loathing
-When Lance was 16, his friend who was an alcoholic died by drowning in his own puke
-Lance didn’t take it well and couldn’t handle it, so he repressed those memories
-He never remembered until he was in his 20’s and woke up sobbing and shaking(it wasn’t pretty, it was horrible and he could shake the imagines out of his mind for weeks)
-When Lance got accepted to the garrison, his friends threw him a party
-At the same time, he never told his family until two days before he was leaving
-They thought it was just a boarding school and didn’t realize how much he worked for it until after he left and they looked into it
-Lance tried to hold back tears after the first month he was at the garrison and he still hadn’t gotten a call from his parents or siblings
-He didn’t hold himself as he thought of his friends and the fire they had
-He didn’t think of how his parents practically jumped around when his older brother got accepted into university
-He didn’t compare himself to everyone he knew and only focus on his bad points
-He didn’t have an anxiety attack that night
-When Lance met Hunk, he felt relived because finally in his life, he met someone who didn’t know his family
-Because finally he had a friend who saw him and didn’t know of or about his family
-And when he met Pidge, he was ecstatic to meet someone who was so smart and chill
-It didn’t hurt him at all when they kept avoiding him though
-It didn’t remind him of being overshadowed when his teachers started to compare him and tell him he was there only by luck
-It didn’t hurt when he was taken as a joke by his self proclaimed rival because it reminded him of his siblings
-No, it didn’t hurt at all when he realized he really didn’t belong with the other paladins
-And it certainly didn’t hurt when his hero got mad at him for making a valid point
-Of course that didn’t make him start to doubt himself more than he already did
-No, Lance never thought of how much he hated himself or how he wasn’t good enough
-Not even about how he missed his family, when he was stuck out in space
-Or his friends, who’d usually try to cheer him up by taking him out to eat or play games all night
-Definitely not about how he wished he was a better person, never really seeing what an amazing person he was but the only what he saw of himself
-No, Lance was fine
-Right?

“Have you seen Sana?” Yousef asked, dipping down towards the blonde girl he’d been introduced to a little earlier but for the life of him couldn’t remember the name of. His mind had been other places. The loud pumping music and the bodies moving in close proximity to them made it difficult to converse without shouting and after her returned “Huh?” he took a seat beside her and asked her again. “Have you seen Sana?” A bright smile warmed her features at the mention of her friend but a frown then creased her brow, presumably after realising she hadn’t in fact seen Sana in a while. “No, sorry.”

With a sigh he gave up looking for Sana for the moment. “So uh…” Yousef trailed off, racking his brain for the blonde’s name. She must have noticed because she offered, “Noora?” and he smiled in appreciation that she’d given it with a happy ease that suggested she wasn’t at all offended by the fact he’d forgotten her name. “So Noora,” he said, putting extra emphasis on her name as if committing it to memory. “Have you known Sana long?”

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I Got You On My Mind [Part 4]

Jungkook Soulmate AU (Angst)

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

Summary: After your memory loss, adjusting back to normal life has been difficult. Luckily, Jungkook is always there for you. Still, something seems off about him, and you just can’t understand why.

Word count: 2k words

Originally posted by aestheticvbts

“Oh yeah, I’m being discharged tomorrow,” you told Jungkook, who was pushing your wheelchair through the hospital. He insisted that you needed a change of scenery. “My parents are going to pick me up and drive me back to my apartment.”

“I-I guess it’s too early for the ‘meet the parents’ thing, right?” Jungkook stammered, uncharacteristically nervous. “Unless you want me to. Like, I don’t mind if–”

“Chill, Jungkook,” you laughed, cutting his off his rambling. “I think they’re more worried about my brain damage than any soulmate business.”

“The doctors said you’ll recover your memories though, right?” Jungkook asked, worry lining his words. “Your memory loss won’t be permanent or recurring?”

“They said my memories will come back slowly,” you replied, shrugging your shoulders nonchalantly. “But most of the time, the memories will have to be triggered by something. They also told me I might have short-term memory issues for the next little while.”

“That seriously sucks,” Jungkook said. “If you need any help with anything, just let me know. I don’t really know how I’d be useful, but don’t hesitate.”

“We’re not in the same department,” you snorted, turning to peer up at your soulmate who was both familiar and foreign in this instant. “This is gonna make school so difficult. I’ve forgotten nearly three months worth of content!”

“Maybe take the semester off?” Jungkook suggested. “Amnesia is a pretty valid reason. Have you talked at all to the university?”

“No,” you groaned, sinking into the wheelchair. “I don’t want to think about responsibilities right now. Just marvelling in the fact I’m still alive and kicking.”

A silence fell between you and Jungkook as he pushed you through a more crowded area of the hospital. You noticed a few younger visitors visibly gape at Jungkook, then glare at you jealously as you rolled by.

You agreed with them–how was Jungkook so damn good-looking? You hit the soulmate jackpot, for sure. Still, even if he looked different, you didn’t doubt that you would like him just the same.

“You know, it’s pretty crazy,” you blurted out unthinkingly. “I’ve been talking to you my entire life, and I always thought meeting you would feel like meeting an old friend. But honestly, you’re a total mystery to me right now. Maybe it’s because of the memory loss, or maybe other people feel this way, too.”

“No, I know what you mean,” Jungkook responded quietly, trying to figure out how to express his thoughts properly. “It’s just…we have an idea of who our soulmate is in our heads. When they’re not exactly that person, it’s kind of confusing.”

“And I’m sure there’s a lot of stuff we still don’t know about each other,” you agreed. “Honestly, I tried to make myself seem a lot better than I am.”

“Yeah, me too,” Jungkook laughed, though it sounded a bit off. You brushed it off as embarrassment. “Didn’t want to disappoint you.”

You turned your head and looked up into Jungkook’s eyes. “You couldn’t have disappointed me Jungkook, really. I’m just happy to finally meet you,” you replied, giving him a small smile. “And it’s kinda paradoxical, isn’t it? Disliking your own soulmate. Weren’t we, like, made to like each other?”

“I guess,” Jungkook said, staring ahead unwaveringly. He pushed you down another hallway, which led to the cafeteria. You only knew because of the wafting smell of hearty food was growing stronger by the second. “But nothing’s ever that simple.”

“Don’t I know it,” you sighed, laughing a little in spite of yourself. You turned the corner into the bustling cafeteria, the noise of the crowds deafening compared to the near-silent, depressing halls of the hospital.

“Want to grab something to eat?” Jungkook asked, the heaviness of your conversation vanishing before you could even blink. “I was going to grab something for myself, too.”

“Sure, I’ll have whatever you’re having,” you agreed. Out of habit, you reached down to pat your pockets for your wallet. “Oh shit, I don’t have any money on me. Don’t worry about it, then.”

“It’s cool, it’ll be my treat,” Jungkook said. When you turned to look at him, he was giving you a lopsided smile.

“Then, is this our first date?” you asked cheekily, delighting in the way Jungkook’s cheek burned. You never expected that a guy like Jungkook, with this terrible fuckboy persona, would be so easily flustered.

“If you want it to be, sure,” Jungkook answered, coughing into his hand awkwardly. You just laughed, and Jungkook pushed you forward wordlessly.


Life at home after getting discharged made staying in the hospital seem like an amusement park. After being sentenced to bedrest by your parents–and having Jieun enforce it with an iron fist–you spent your days bored out of your mind.

In only one week, you had binge-watched three shows, reread all of your course notes (and they didn’t help you remember anything), and read more manga that you had ever read before in your entire life.

You were positively itching to get outside and do something, but what bothered you the most was that you hadn’t talked to Jungkook since your “first date.” When you had gotten home, you jumped to charge your dead phone, which miraculously hadn’t been destroyed in the accident. But when the device finally charged, you soon realized that you had no way of contacting Jungkook.

For some reason, his phone number wasn’t saved in your contacts. Even though Jungkook had said you had met before, apparently you hadn’t exchanged numbers. That seemed very strange to you.

When you asked Jieun about it, she just shrugged the question off. She said your situation was a bit complicated, but that she’d have to leave it up to you and Jungkook. But Jieun did say that she would mention it to him when she saw him at school next.

Sighing, you reached for your phone beside you. It was still early in the morning. Time had lost all meaning to you, since you spent every moment of the day trapped in your apartment. A bit bitterly, you watched your friends’ Snapchat stories and longed to return to normal daily life.

Suddenly, your phone began buzzing. You dropped it in surprise, and it landed on your nose. The impact stung, and you cursed, reaching clumsily for the phone. You saw an unflattering picture of Jieun illuminate the screen. Eventually, you were able to answer.

“Hey, what’s up?” you asked, rubbing your hand against your sore nose.

“Y/N, I’m so fucking stupid!” Jieun practically screamed. Wincing, you held your phone away from your ear. “I know you shouldn’t be moving around, but I need you to come to the university right now. I’m working on a group project that’s due in two hours and a bunch of our files got corrupted. I have some stuff backed up on my laptop, which I left at home like an idiot!”

“Don’t worry, I can bring it to you,” you reassured quickly. “I won’t fall into traffic on the way there. It’s like a ten minute walk, so don’t worry.”

“Just don’t strain yourself, okay?” Jieun ordered, the panic still evident in her voice. “Don’t go to quickly and look both ways!”

“Hey, only I can make fun of myself,” you quipped, pulling yourself out from underneath the covers. “I’ll be over soon, I just need to get dressed.”

“Okay, see you soon. Thank you so much, Y/N,” Jieun said, and the both of you said your goodbyes before you disconnected the call.

You glanced down at your pyjama bottoms and at the thick cast over your right leg. Changing pants would be a battle for another day. Unsteadily, you stood up and balanced your weight on your unbroken leg. You reached for the crutches leaning against the wall beside you and tucked them underneath your arms.

As quickly as you could (which was not very quick), you had thrown on a clean shirt and a jacket. Your hair was a mess, so you shoved on a beanie to disguise the tangled frizz. With Jieun’s securely laptop in your backpack, you began the trek to school. Suddenly, the journey seemed incredibly long.


When you finally arrived on campus, you were panting lightly and sweating. You made your way into the music building, relatively unfamiliar with its layout. You detached yourself from one of your crutches and reached into your pocket for your phone. Quickly you sent Jieun a text letting you know you were here.

There were a few benches in the foyer, so once you hobbled over to them, you set your bag down lightly and placed your crutches against the benches. Flopping down, you discreetly tried to massage your sore armpits.

But you were glad to finally be out of the apartment. The fresh air made you feel infinitely better.

“Y/N?” a familiar voice called. Your head whipped around in the direction of the voice. Jungkook a few meters away from you, looking as dark and intimidating as ever. His wide-eyed expression kind of ruined the image though. “What are you doing here?”

“Jieun forgot her laptop at home,” you replied, pointing to the backpack at your feet, as Jungkook made his way toward you.

“Shouldn’t you be at home?” he questioned, stopping when he was standing in front of you. You craned your neck to at him properly. “Is it okay for you to be walking around so soon?”

“Please, don’t get started on that,” you groaned, squeezing your eyes shut. “My parents and Jieun are unbearable. I’ve been lying in bed doing nothing all week.”

“You know, that honestly sounds like heaven,” Jungkook joked. “I’m so swamped right now. I haven’t slept in days.”

You inspected Jungkook more closely. His eyes were ringed by purplish dark circles, but they were hardly noticeable. How unfair–he always looked good.

“Hey, why haven’t you talked to me all week?” you asked suddenly, narrowing your eyes at Jungkook suspiciously.

“I was meaning to call or text or something, but I don’t have your number,” Jungkook answered sheepishly, scratching the nape of his neck awkwardly. “Didn’t know how to ask for it, since you haven’t been around campus lately.”

“Why’s that, though?” you continued, glancing down at your feet. “I mean–you said we met before. Why didn’t we keep in contact?”

“W-well, we did meet, but it wasn’t a proper conversation,” Jungkook explained stutteringly. “It wasn’t under the most normal circumstances, but–”

“Y/N!” Jieun’s loud voice suddenly interrupted. She burst into the foyer, looking absolutely frazzled. Her hair was a mess, her eyes were bloodshot, and you were pretty sure there were coffee stains on her shirt. “Thank god!”

Your friend ran over to you and practically dove for your backpack. She grabbed her laptop and hugged it tightly against her chest.

“Thank you so much. I’m so sorry I made you come all the way here,” Jieun cried, sounding frantic still. “Are you okay? Sore anywhere? Go home right away, okay? You need to rest. And please don’t tell your parents!”

“Oh my god, I’m fine Jieun,” you whined. “I think I can handle walking for, like, two minutes.”

“I just don’t want anything to happen!” Jieun insisted, stomping her foot childishly. “We’re speeding up the recovery process by being extra careful!”

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever. Go work on your project and try not to fail.”

“I will,” Jieun replied. “I’ll bring dinner on my way home.” She turned, only spotting Jungkook for the first time. Her eyes narrowed and she frowned slightly. “Jungkook.”

“Jieun,” he replied, just as shortly.

You looked between the two of them, wondering why there was so much tension. It looked like they were having a silent conversation, and you hated not knowing what was going on. You had the suspicion they were hiding something from you–but for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out what, exactly.

Eventually, Jieun just nodded and strode away, leaving Jungkook with a tight expression. Visibly, you could see Jungkook try to shake away the tension, his jaw unclenching. When he turned back to you, his features were schooled.

“Give me your phone,” Jungkook said, reaching out his hand and smiling softly. “I’ll add my number.”

- Girl in Luv

Okay, so this one was a bit filler-y. Originally I had planned to make this one angsty too, but I figured you guys could use the respite. Also, it would have been like 4k words and it’s like 2:30AM and this girl needs to sleep. Anyway, stay tuned!! Thanks as always for reading, and I hope you all enjoyed. Your replies and reblogs/tags are so cute I read them all 💛💛💛💛

Capone

Request: You had a similar situation to buckys torture and are rescued by shield. He’s determined to break through your emotionless, sassy shell and to help you in recovery. After a couple failed attempts He finds out you have a soft spot for puppy’s and surprises you with a rescue dog. Which in turn has her confronting him on what this is all about and feelings spill out like a brand new water park. -Anon

Bucky Barnes X Reader

Word Count: 2237 (ha! Whoops..)

Warnings: Mentions of torture..

A/N: I hope this is alright! It feels kind of like a hot mess, but I didn’t want it to run on too long! Also the dog mentioned is from the hbspca, so if you’re in southern ontario and need a friend :) And yeah, one little part was inspired by Love, Actually. Feedback would be lovely xo

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Stupid

Hey y’all! Happy Wednesday! Hope you enjoy this little fun one.

Bucky x Reader

Summary: Reader uses her power of invisibility to teach Bucky a lesson for shamelessly flirting with her.

Warnings: Language, Touching…?

I swear to god Bucky Barnes knew that I had a crush on him. A big old, stupid, little kid crush that made me pretty much speechless around him. I avoided him like the plague because every time I ran into him and tried to talk to him, I would trip over something, stutter like crazy or say something that was just plain stupid. I really didn’t know what was wrong with me.

Natasha used to tell me that he liked me too, but I always doubted it. She’d pull the whole we were trained by the Russians together bullshit to try to convince me she knew everything he was thinking. But I just didn’t believe it.

He was a goddamn super soldier, and a pretty one at that, and I was the runt of the Avenger’s litter. There wasn’t much I could do besides make myself invisible. I was the new kid and I was still learning how to fight and I didn’t go on many missions yet and well… I was a potato compared to Bucky Barnes. 

But I accepted this. And I accepted his teasing.

Until one day when the whole team was watching a movie and he teased me a little too much for me to not fight back. This is the story of how I wrapped Bucky Barnes around my little finger. 


The whole team was in their designated corners of the living room, lounging on their choice of furniture. The only person missing was Bucky, but that wasn’t surprising. He was never on time to anything. 

Wanda and I were tucked into a small sofa with Natasha in the middle of us. I was perfectly burritoed in my favorite blanket when the opening credits started.

“Hey, (Y/N), mind if I sit next to ya?”

His voice sent shivers down my spine that I tried my hardest to ignore. 

“Go find another seat, Buck, there’s no room here,” Natasha snarled at him.

“Nah, there’s plenty of room,” he said. Before any of us could respond, he was lifting me up and placing me gently in his lap where he held me tightly around my waist and rested his chin on my shoulder. I had no doubt he was giving Natasha a victorious smirk. “See?”

“No! Buck, get off!” Wanda whisper shouted as Natasha kicked his legs. 

“Alright, alright,” he said in surrender. He stood up and placed me back on the seat of the couch with a wink. When he straightened himself and looked around the room he asked, “Where the hell am I supposed to sit, then?”

“You were late, so you sit on the floor,” Steve delivered, making me laugh. I lived for Steve’s rare sassy moments. 

Bucky sighed and laid on the floor, stretching himself out and leaning on his elbows. When he was situated, Tony asked him from across the room, “How’s the floor treatin’ ya, Barnes?”

“Just fine,” he answered. Then he looked up at me with his stupid blue eyes and said, “I could use some company though. Wanna join me?”

I rolled my eyes but smiled. “No, see, I have a seat because I wasn’t late.”

He chuckled at that. “That’s alright,” he said before directing his gaze to my bare, crossed legs in front of him. “I like the view from down here anyway,” he said, brushing his rough knuckle against my ankle.

I had to stop my jaw from hitting the ground and I immediately regretted wearing my pajama shorts. Before I could shoot a reply his way, Sam yelled, “Just everyone shut up and watch the damn movie.”

I felt heat rising to my cheeks as I tucked my legs under me and covered them with the blanket. I heard him chuckle from below and I threw a small couch pillow at his head. 

“She fights back!” He said with a fake gasp. “What a sight!” Then he leaned closer to me and said with a low growl, “That turns me on even more than your legs do.”

“Buck. Watch the movie,” Steve warned for what sounded like the last time. 

“Yessir,” Bucky said with a salute. He turned to me and winked one more time before settling on his elbows and concentrating on the movie. 

Once my pulse slowed and the blood ran out of my cheeks, I turned to Natasha and whispered, “Be right back.” She gave me a raised eyebrow, like she knew my exact plan. Damn those Russians for teaching her to practically read minds. 

I quietly climbed over the back of the sofa so I wouldn’t catch Bucky’s attention, and left the room. Once I was outside everyone’s view I stuck my hands out in front of me. With a gulp and a blink, I watched them disappear and snuck back into the living room. 

Once I stood above Bucky, I crouched down behind him. I was surprised my thundering heartbeat didn’t give me away. Time to get some revenge, I thought. 

I slowly lowered my hands onto his shoulders, making him jump and turn to look over his shoulder. When he didn’t see anyone there, I could almost see the cogs turning in his head as he tried to figure out what the hell was going on. I took this as a chance to continue.

I ran my invisible hands forward and down his chest, ignoring how thick and firm he felt under my fingertips- this was about getting him hot and bothered. I felt his breath quake before he spoke. “Natasha, where’s (Y/N)?”

“In the bathroom,” she said. By her voice, I could tell she knew exactly what I was doing and she was happy to have a front row seat. 

I leaned into his neck and felt every muscle in his body tighten. I remembered all the times his flirting had left me flustered and embarrassed and was encouraged to crank it up a notch. I latched onto his ear with my teeth and as my hands neared his belt, he said, “Huh. Are you sure?”

The sound of his raspy voice told me I won this battle. As soon as my hands were there, they were gone and the next time Bucky saw visible me was when I was walking back into the room and jumping on the couch. 

“Buck, you don’t look so good,” I said, giving him a look of fake concern.

“She’s right, man, maybe you should jump in the shower or something,” Steve said. 

“A cold shower,” Natasha mumbled, making Wanda and I giggle. 

Bucky cleared in throat and turned his blue eyes to me. “I think I’m just gonna grab some water. (Y/N), care to join me?” 

“Sure,” I said, winking at Natasha and Wanda and following him to the kitchen. I grabbed two glasses and handed one to him to fill. 

“I didn’t know you played dirty, (Y/N),” he said with a smile, handing me a cup full of water.

“I don’t usually.”

“Well, you seem like a pro to me,” he winked. 

“I just wanted to see you get flustered for a change,” I said before taking a sip.

“Are you kidding?” he asked. Jesus why was he so cute?

No, I’m not kidding! I’m the one who looks stupid all the time, now it’s your turn!” I confessed, playfully slapping his arm while he laughed at me.

“I’m the one who’s stupid. The guys always tease me for how I get around you. I cringe at what comes out of my mouth sometimes.” 

His laugh mixed with mine and echoed off the kitchen tiles. I heard Sam shush us from the other room and burst into a whole new fit of laughter. 

“Alright, how about we stop being stupid around each other? Just go on a regular, non stupid date?” he asked.

“Okay,” I laughed. 

We whispered the details to each other as we walked back into the living room to watch the rest of the movie. Once we both plopped down into our seats, I heard Bucky ask Clint what he missed while he was gone.

“Nothing. This movie is stupid.”

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It’s the first cool day New York has seen in months. Louis wakes up to a light chill in the air, goosebumps rising on his skin, the cracked windows finally letting in a breeze that doesn’t feel muggy, and when he rolls over to face Harry, sheets pooled around his bare waist, Louis only pauses to stare for a brief moment before he’s poking Harry’s chest, cheeks, eyelids. Harry bats him away, groaning.

“Why. What.” His voice is rough with sleep and he doesn’t any make an attempt to open his eyes.

Louis smirks, poking him in the stomach. Hard. “It’s finally fall.”

“It’s been fall for a week and a half.”

“Yeah but now it feels like fall.”

Harry groans louder. “It’s Sunday. The day of rest. I don’t want to wake up yet.”

“But.” He sits up, reaching for the duvet cover, wrapping it around himself. It smells like Harry’s shampoo, and a little bit like fabric softener. “We should go apple picking.”

“You don’t even like apples that much,” Harry mumbles into his pillow.

“I’m a teacher. I think it’s a law to like them, or something.”

He grunts out something that resembles probably, then rolls over to his other side, his back facing Louis.

That won’t do.

Louis rearranges himself so he’s situated on Harry’s lap, his movements quick enough that Harry doesn’t have time to react or push him away. Louis drags his hands up and down Harry’s sides, touching softly at his fading scars, and Harry finally opens his eyes at that, smile breaking, shaking his head.

“Has anyone ever told you how much of a pain in the ass you are?”

“A few times, maybe.”

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anonymous asked:

I’m the anon who requested the rainy day kisses and you totally delivered the goods. :D Thank you!! I hope it’s okay that I send in another request because I really enjoy your scenarios. ^^ For the chocobros: post-game happy AU where everyone has a family and the bro has a heart-to-heart with their teenaged kid (for this request: a daughter for Gladio & Iggy, son for Prompto & Noct) who asked the bro about the moment they knew their s/o was ‘the one’. Thanks!

NOCTIS

Noctis walked into the training arena, watching his son warping from one end of the room to the other. He stood by the doorway, watching as Ferox panted, dropping his dagger to the ground with his hands on his knees.

“Giving up already?” Noctis called, and Ferox rose to his full height. At thirteen, he was almost as tall as his dad, stretching his back and allowing it to crack loudly before loosening up his shoulders.

“Mom said I should take combat training more seriously.”

Noctis snorted. “Sounds like something she would say.”

Ferox tried warping a few more times under his father’s supervision, but eventually gave up, collapsing in a heap on the ground with his arms and legs splayed out like a drunken starfish.

“This is too hard,” Ferox groaned, pinching his eyes shut. “I don’t get why she’s being so strict with me about this warping thing.”

Noctis came to sit down beside his son, nudging him until he sat upright. “Your mother has been through a lot in her past. She’s lost a lot of people, had to make sacrifices to save others. Warping is something that only those tied to the King’s magic can do. She knows that mastering it will keep you safe in the long run, so trust her on that.”

Ferox leaned his elbow on his knee, propping his chin up with his fist. “Is that how you met?” he asked.

Noctis shoved him lightly with his shoulder. “Maybe.” He sighed, remembering the day. “We’d met on the road one day. Magitek troopers had invaded the outpost we were visiting, and me and the guys decided to try and fight them off. But we were tired, careless. It had been a really long day. But then your mother came swooped in and basically took them all down single-handedly.”

Ferox’s mouth gaped. “Woah.”

Noctis nodded. “Yep. I knew then and there, as the dust settled, that I was in love with her.” He patted his son’s knee. “Enough resting. Wanna try again?”

“I guess I should,” Ferox conceded, rising to his feet. “Do you think Mom’ll spar with me if I ask her?”

“Hey,” Noctis teased, grabbing a pair of wooden swords from a bin. “You too good to spar with your old man?”

“You just said Mom was a better fighter,” Ferox countered, and yelped as Noctis took a playful whack at his shin.


PROMPTO

Solis was lounging on the couch, flipping through old photo albums. He had found one that was labelled with pictures from a little over twenty years ago. He blew his unruly blond hair, a feature he’d gotten from his father, out of his eyes as he opened the pages and scanned over the images.

The photos in the album were varied. Some were of scenery, some were taken during combat (Why, Dad. That’s definitely not a smart thing to do), and there were quite a few selfies that made Solis chuckle.

“Whatcha laughin’ at?” His father’s voice made him jump as Prompto sauntered into the room and plopped down next to his son.

“Just looking at old photos,” Solis shrugged, flipping to another page. “Oh, hey, look…it’s Mom.”

Solis saw his dad’s face soften as he looked at the photo of the two of you. It was one that Prompto hadn’t taken himself—it was a candid shot Noctis had snapped of you at the Vesperpool by the water. It was right around the time you’d met, and you were standing too close together to be just friends. Prompto thought back to that moment, and chuckled to himself.

“Whatcha laughin’ at?” Solis mimicked, causing Prompto to burst into a fit of giggles. Even at sixteen, Solis was the spitting image of his father. Same hair colour, same lanky build. But he had your eyes and your smile, which were Prompto’s favourite features.

“Just thinking about the moment I knew I wanted to marry your mom.”

Solis scrunched up his nose. “Dad, I don’t know if I want to hear that story.”

“Guess who’s gonna hear it anyway?” Prompto tousled Solis’ hair, much to his chagrin.

“Dad! I’m not five anymore!” he whined, but settled into the couch to listen to his father’s story. “Go on.”

“Your mom suggested one morning that we go take photos of the catoblepas,” Prompto pointed to a different photo, one that illustrated the creature. “She insisted on getting up close and personal with them. She figured it’d be better for the picture. So I’m set up with my tripod and my camera about five or six feet away, and she’s holding these mushrooms to get them to come closer.”

Prompto mimed the set up with his hands, and Solis nodded along the way.

“I was ready to take the shot, and she was posing, looking all cute. But then the catoblepas got so close. I yelled to warn her, but when she turned, she reached out her hand and pet the damn thing. And it actually nuzzled into her palm. Can you believe it?” Prompto sighed, a dreamy look in his eyes. “A legendary creature, yielding to your mother. What a lady.”

Solis turned the page of the album and found the photo of you cozying up to the catoblepas. “One thing’s for sure,” he decided. “You’re both nuts.” He paused. “But I’m glad you found each other.”


GLADIO

Gladio knocked on Acacia’s door. Having a teenage daughter was not easy, and having a teenage daughter in full mood swings was enough to want to make Gladio pull his hair out. It reminded him of Iris when she was younger.

A muffled voice rang out. “Come in.”

Gladio opened the door to his raven-haired daughter lying face down on her bed, not even attempting to greet her father as he took a seat by her desk.

“Wanna tell me what’s going on?”

Acacia peeked an eye at him. “Nothing.”

Gladio folded his arms over his chest. “Didn’t sound like nothing according to Mom.”

Acacia sat up, apparently triggered by whatever Gladio had said, irritation clear as day on her features. “She’s just so over protective!” she huffed, hands balling into fists. “I just wanted to go away for the weekend, and she won’t let me because she said she doesn’t know who else is going.”

Gladio raised an eyebrow. “Seems like a decent enough reason to say no to me.”

Acacia groaned. “Not you too.”

He smirked at her, shaking his head. “Do you know the moment I realized your mom was the one?”

She blinked slowly. “I don’t see how this is relevant to what’s happening right now.”

Gladio continued. “When I was on the road with the guys, I met her. She was definitely too good for me. Way too smart, way too pretty. And for some reason, she gave me the time of day. After what happened in Lestallum and we lost Jared, she offered to stay and take care of Iris and Talcott until we got back.”

Acacia looked at her father expectantly.

“I knew then, when she decided to put her whole life on hold to make sure that my family stayed safe, the last remaining family I had, that she was it. She cared so much about these people that she barely knew, took them in like they were her own and kept them safe while the world fell apart around them. And now she’s trying to do that for you. She lost a lot of people in the ten years of darkness, sweetheart. Try and understand that she’s being protective of you because she doesn’t want to lose you, too.”

Acacia let out a sigh, slumping her shoulders. “I guess I owe Mom and apology.”

“Guess you do.”

She nodded and rose to her feet, slowly making her way to the door.

“If you want to go camping,” Gladio offered. “I’d be more than happy to take you.”

“Thanks Dad, but no,” Acacia replied, stepping into the hallway. “I’ve got better things to do.”

Gladio rolled his eyes. Yeah, he thought to himself. Just like Iris.


IGNIS

It wasn’t often that Ignis and his daughter got to spend a great deal of time together because of his duties at the palace and her school schedule, but he relished the moments they did get to share. They often cooked together, concocting new recipes side by side.

“How come Mom doesn’t cook?” Aurora asked, popping a cherry tomato into her mouth. “Is it because she can’t?”

“She’s not extraordinarily proficient, but she gets by,” Ignis stated, and Aurora marvelled at how skilled her father was with a knife even though he was blind. “Actually, it was our first evening in together when she decided to cook for me that I realized how much I loved her.”

“Aw! Dad!” Aurora gushed. “Tell me! I love these stories.”

Ignis chuckled and kept at the chopping.

“She’d planned this whole dinner for the two of us. She knew that I enjoyed the culinary arts, and wanted to give it a go herself. I told her that it wasn’t necessary to go through all the effort, but she informed me that I’d cooked for her on multiple occasions, so it was only fair.”

Ignis smiled to himself at the memory.

“She ended up burning everything.”

Aurora couldn’t help but laugh. “Dad! Why are you smiling? That’s terrible!”

Ignis could still smell the ruined dinner, the smoke coming from the oven and the shrill sound of the fire alarm beeping in the kitchen. He remembered the sound of your laugh, the sound of you swatting a broom at the alarm to get it to shut off, as it was just out of reach.

“She took such care to ensure that everything was perfect, but in the end, the meal being ruined hadn’t phased her spirit,” Ignis continued. “She ended up pulling out two servings of Cup Noodles, and we ate them together by candlelight.”

Aurora leaned her head against her father’s shoulder. “Dad, that’s so cute.”

“It was a special moment,” Ignis agreed. “I knew then that her resilience was something to be admired. I knew her before I was blind, as just a friend, and after I sustained my injury, she refused to leave my side. She’s always been more than I deserve, and she even gifted me with you.” Ignis reached out and wrapped an arm around Aurora’s shoulders, giving her a light squeeze.

“Love you, Dad,” she smiled, giving him a peck on the cheek.

Ignis went to go stir a pot on the stove. “There is one thing you have in common with that night, come to think of it,” a mischievous lilt to his tone.

Aurora glanced over at Ignis. “Hm? What’s that?”

“Technically speaking, you were an accident as well.”

For a blind man, he was quite skilled at dodging flying spatulas.

The Dinner Party

just a random idea that came to me in a fever dream earlier this week. rated E for explicit smutty smut smut. enjoy!


“You want me to do what?”

Peeta frowned at her foot, wielding the nail polish brush threateningly. “First, I want you to hold still.” Katniss wriggled her toes defiantly but then obliged, hardly daring to breathe when he swiped the coral nail polish onto her big toe in nice, even strokes. It looked perfect, of course. He could always paint better than she could, even nails.

“Seriously, though. You want me to go to a dinner party with you?” she asked. He glanced up at her with a crooked smile before he started painting her next toenail.

“You make it sound like I’ve asked you to strip naked and run around the block or something,” he said, focusing on her toes. She snorted, then clamped her lips shut when he shot her a warning look. Snorting made her foot jiggle, apparently. “It’s just a dinner party. Delly asked everyone to bring a guest–someone, and I quote, ‘interesting.’ So I’m asking you.”

Katniss stared at the top of his head, his blond curls falling across his forehead as he worked. “But I don’t really know her. And what a weird stipulation,” she said with a laugh.

Peeta shrugged. “Delly likes her theme parties,” he muttered, tongue poking out the corner of his mouth as he delicately painted her pinky toe. Satisfied with his work, he shot her a triumphant smile. “And you’re the most interesting person I know.”

She rolled her eyes. “Says the guy who paints nails better than any girl I know.”

He gave her a look of mock offense. “Are you questioning my masculinity? You know how I feel about rigid gender roles.” Then he held up his hand, palm flat, fingers spread. “And who’s got a steadier hand than me?” She kicked playfully at his hand, and he made a noise of protest, grabbing her ankle to place her foot down on the coffee table. “Don’t mess up my hard work.”

Katniss slumped down into the couch, chewing on her lip. “You know I don’t like people. How am I supposed to be interesting around a bunch of strangers?”

Screwing the nail polish bottle shut, Peeta sat back on his hands. “Just think of it as a challenge. See how often you can work into the conversation that dry wit and razor-sharp sarcasm of yours without them realizing you’re insulting them.”

“Do you want people to hate me?” she asked wryly, folding her arms over her chest. He grinned.

“Delly said interesting. She didn’t say anything about likable.” He laughed when she flipped him off, then pushed off the floor to stand up. “I should head home. But I swear, if you just be yourself, people will love you.” She didn’t think it was that simple. Peeta never had to worry about getting people to like him; it just came naturally to him. But she didn’t argue the point, letting him pull her up from the couch. With cotton balls stuffed between her toes, she wobbled after him to the front door. Grabbing his jacket from the coat rack, he turned to her. “So you’ll come?”

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I’ve Always Been Home (Part 2)

I Have Loved You Since One Shots:  I’ve Always Been Home (Part 2 of 2)

Masterlist

(Part 1)

Songs:

“Who are you?” You asked, so quietly, it came out as a whisper. You could feel the tears brimming in your eyes. You had never felt so deserted, so vulnerable, and so useless. “I know you’re not just a friend. You sleep here every night, and every time you look at me you look like I’ve hurt you.”

The tears were now brimming in his eyes. He could see and feel the pain this had brought you. He knew how much you hated feeling defenseless and for so long he let you feel that way. He hadn’t even begun to surface the cause of the accident.

“I’m your fiancé.”

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6

Allow me to introduce you to Robert Underwood Johnson (1853-1937). For the longest time, I only knew him as that one weirdly close friend of Nikola Tesla (himself a popular crush, it would seem). As I begin to research Robert further, I realized what a remarkable person he was in his own right.

Robert was the editor of the CENTURY magazine, which no longer exists, but in its time it published material by renowned writers and thinkers, including Tesla’s controversial article, THE PROBLEM OF INCREASING HUMAN ENERGY. Through his work with the magazine, Robert came to know anybody who was anybody in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. One article I read referred to him as a “genius whisperer.” That’s not far from the truth.

Robert is best remembered today because of his friendship with Tesla. Tesla was a notoriously asocial man who had very few close friends. Robert, and his wife Katharine, were the exceptions. Robert and Tesla shared a love of poetry, and Tesla nicknamed Robert “Luka Filipov” after a hero from a Serbian epic. The two men would remain close for the rest of Robert’s life, with Robert referring to Tesla as his best friend on several occasions.

(There’s all kinds of talk that Tesla may have been in love with Katharine Johnson, or vice versa, and while I think there is some merit to that theory, it’s not entirely pertinent to this post. Though I can’t help but wonder if Robert knew, and how he felt about it… But I digress.)

In 1920, President Wilson appointed Robert ambassador to Italy, a post he held until the summer of 1921. Robert was a lifelong Italophile who had been given awards by the Italian government for his work supporting international copyright laws.

I should dedicate some space to what Robert would most want to be remembered for: his poetry. While not necessarily a great poet, he did publish several books, and it’s hard to deny his passion and enthusiasm. He even wrote a poem titled IN TESLA’S LABORATORY, dedicated to his friend. He favored formal styles of poetry, often speaking out against what he saw as the encroachment of modernism on classical forms of expression (for example, he did not care for the work of either T.S. Eliot or Walt Whitman). While I do not necessarily agree with this, it does show that Robert was a strong minded individual who was completely dedicated to the causes he chose to support.

As previously mentioned, Robert was a friend of a great many famous and talented people. He records his reminiscences in his memoir, REMEMBERED YESTERDAYS, a warm and engaging look back on a fascinating life.

Some other neat things:
- His famous friends, apart from Tesla, included Mark Twain, John Muir, and Rudyard Kipling.

- It was at Robert’s encouragement that Ulysses Grant wrote his memoirs. They were published in the CENTURY at first.

- He and Muir helped establish Yosemite National Park.

- Katharine and Robert had two children, Owen and Agnes. Owen went on to become a successful writer.

- In the early 20th century, Robert was the secretary of the American Academy of Arts and Letters. At this time, there were many rabidly misogynistic members of this all-male organization. When the question of the election of women to the Academy was raised, Robert supported letting women in, in spite of the often vicious opposition from other members.

- Apparently, as Katharine Johnson lay dying, she told her husband to always keep in touch with Tesla. Shortly there after, Robert wrote to Tesla saying that this might not be an easy thing to do, but it would not be his fault if it was not done.

- It’s like, wow, you can really tell how much he loved this woman.

- He signed his last note (before his death in 1937) to Tesla as “Luka Filipov.” Are you crying yet? I am.

OK, I’m sorry, this turned into a really long post, but Robert Underwood Johnson deserves the recognition. He was more than just Tesla’s friend. He was a poet, a diplomat, an editor, an environmentalist, an activist, a friend, a father, a husband. He was, I truly believe, a good and admirable person not only for his own time, but for ours as well. As a lover of all things Italian who’s been known to scribble down the odd poem now and again, I feel especially drawn to him. Everybody should have as good a friend as him. Hell, everyone should try to be as good a friend as him.

Tl:dr Robert was an insanely accomplished dude who was BFFs with some awesome people, was an awesome person in his own right, and was probably the best friend anyone ever had. He deserves to be more than just a footnote in the Tesla story.

Now, if you’ll permit me a little more room, a quick guide to the photos (from top to bottom):

- Robert as a younger man. I’m not gonna lie, I never found beards attractive until I saw this old, grainy photo.

- with Tesla in the laboratory. Supposedly they did this a lot.

- walking down the steps of the White House like a boss after being appointed Ambassador to Italy.

- seen here at left modeling for the sculptor Paul Swan, at right. That bust is majestic.

- portrait by William Merritt Chase, a fellow member of the Academy and one of the most important artists of the day.

- an Onion headline edit by yours truly. Robert was tough and downright feisty when he had to be, but I think this still applies.

Cheers, Mr. Ambassador!