#11/10 bloke

[lorereadsclassics7]

I knew it was coming but Fs in the chat for our man Quincey. You lived a good life and you did so well to help your friends.

You will never be forgotten, Quincey cowboy-in-a-vampire-novel Morris.

[screamingoverfiction]

So, This Is Love?

Fred Weasley x f!-reader. House mentioned as Slytherin but not super important. Reader isn't described except as having dimples. 18+ Smut ahead. Minors DNI! Not Edited.

I totally didn't start writing this over the summer and then forget about it in my drafts...totally.

Word Count: 4.25k

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"You seriously don't have a date?" Madelyn questioned, raising a brow as she continued curling her blonde hair.

"I don't need one. I'll just pick up some bloke on the sidelines if I want to dance," Y/n said, smoothing her dress and checking herself in the mirror a final time.

Y/n had been looking forward to the masquerade ball for a while, eager to be unknown to all, free from her burdens, and able to dance her heart out without worry.

She was now descending the stairs into the common room, her face concealed by a beautiful masquerade mask. Her lips broke into a wide grin. No one could recognize her.

She practically skipped down the halls, not caring about anything or anyone, happy to be free from her life, even for only a night.

When she arrived at the great hall, her eyes went wide in awe. It was beautiful. Colorful banners hung around every wall, and the floor was converted into a ballroom.

She descended the stairs, still smiling from ear to ear. She was unable to hide her joy. It was like she was a little girl again.

She stepped into the great hall, eyes scanning over the seemingly hundreds of students, and she didn't know any of them. It was exhilarating. 

As she looked out the room, her eyes connected with someone else's, a tall boy with beautiful brown eyes and fiery hair wearing a black mask.

She tilted her head with a small smile, and he copied her, the grin on his lips making her heart jump. Y/n raised a brow, and he once again copied her, the silly, childish smile on his lips making her laugh.

She bit back a smirk, glancing around before wading through the crowd, her heart skipping a beat when he made his way toward her as well.

They met in the middle, staring at each other behind masks, neither knowing who the other was. 

"Care to dance?" The boy started, offering his hand, a sly smile twitching on his lips. She knew that voice, somehow- somewhere, but she just couldn't place it.

"You sound familiar," Y/n said, placing her hand in his, her heart rate increasing as he positioned his other on her waist, starting to dance.

His smile widened. He twirled Y/n around to the soft orchestral tune of the song, eyes never leaving her. He didn't know a girl this beautiful existed.

"So do you," He spoke, hand returning to her waist, gaze flickering down to her perfect lips before snapping back to her eyes.

"What's your name?" The boy asked between songs, his brown hues staring deep into hers.

"That ruins the fun. Don't you think?" Y/n laughed, flashing him her infamous grin, her dimples shining through. 

He swore he knew that smile, those dimples…

"I suppose you're right," The boy replied, smirking, sliding his hand into hers once again as the song started.

They danced for what seemed like hours, song after song, asking each other various questions between the music, wishing the moment would never end. Yet, by the end of the night. Neither had a clue who the other was.

"Attention, students," A booming voice Y/n knew as Dumbledore called out over the room, stopping everyone in their tracks.

The boy and Y/n looked up. Brows furrowed in confusion at the headmaster's words.

"At exactly 11 p.m., your masks will no longer be enchanted. You are free to leave before then if you wish to remain anonymous, or the dance will continue for thirty minutes afterward if you wish to stay," Dumbledore announced, causing gasps to leave almost everyone's lips.

Y/n quickly whirled to see the clock. It read 10:49 p.m. She had ten minutes to leave.

She turned back, meeting the boy's gaze. His eyes were unreadable, his handsome features locked in an expression of indecisiveness. 

"I guess we have a decision to make," Y/n said quietly, swallowing thickly and pursing her lips.

They stared at each other silently for a moment, neither having the courage to speak until he finally opened his mouth.

"You can leave if you want," He said, his eyes still curious about who she was, but he wouldn't force it.

Y/n bit her cheek in thought, reminiscing the night, how he made her laugh, his charming and witty personality, and his somehow proper yet clumsy dancing. And it was a plus that he was divinely handsome, even from the little features she could see.

"I don't think I want to," She finally answered, her lips forming into a slight smile.

His eyes visibly lightened, breaking out into a grin; he glanced around before tugging her through the crowd, hand in hand.

He led her outside near the archway into the courtyard, his hand still tightly gripping hers.

"Privacy," He spoke, eyes flickering to her lips, his adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he swallowed.

Y/n stepped closer until they were almost chest to chest, her heart beating incredibly fast. Her hands were resting on his shoulders, eyes unable to leave his.

She glanced at the clock behind him: 10:59. It was now or never.

"Kiss me," She whispered quickly, surprising even herself with the desperation in her voice. 

He didn't hesitate to lean down, crashing his lips against hers, his hand cupping her cheek as the masks magically disappeared from their faces.

But neither pulled back, too entranced by the kiss to even remember to breathe. It was as if their lives depended on the sweet taste of the other's lips.

The boy leaned further into her, his hand on her hips, drawing her in. Y/n parted her lips, welcoming him with equal passion, her hand traveling from his shoulder to the back of his neck, lacing her fingers in his soft hair.

After what felt like hours of kissing, they slowly pulled away, equally terrified of what was to come.

Y/n couldn't open her eyes. Their foreheads rested against each other while they waited for their courage to brew.

He was the first to step back, and then Y/n opened her eyes, finally locking onto his beautiful- beautiful face. 

Her jaw went slack, her expression paling as she stared at his equally mortified face.

Frederick Weasley.

The infamous prankster of Gryffindor, along with his twin. Notorious for picking on Slytherins, Y/n included- not that it wasn't reciprocated, but still. 

Fred Weasley.

"You've got to be fucking with me," Y/n said, stumbling back, an expression of horror taking over her features.

She ran her hands along her face and through her hair, eyes wide while she tried to process exactly what was happening.

Fred could only stand there, shocked, his mouth unable to form a coherent sentence. He wasn't sure of anything anymore.

“Anyone but you!" Y/n said again with a groan covering her face and glancing back, making sure that she wasn't hallucinating.

"I should've known from the dimples," Fred finally said with a dry laugh, rubbing the back of his neck and looking away, swallowing thickly.

"You get that if anyone finds out about this, we're dead," Y/n hissed, pointing a malicious finger in his direction.

Fred rolled his eyes, clenching his jaw and leaning against the nearby pillar, an expression of deep thought on his face. His freckles seemed to shine in the moonlight.

"Don't say fucking a word," She spoke sternly, not looking back as she walked away.

"You know, for a second, I thought... Fred sighed, shaking his head, his posture tense.

Y/n froze in her tracks, her eyes softening slightly before returning to a scowl. She turned around, their eyes connected, and she couldn’t keep the mask up any longer.

"In another world, Weasley," Y/n said quietly, but he heard. She could tell by the way his features softened.

He huffed a sour laugh, rubbing his jaw and then running that same hand through his messy red hair, flashing her a quick smile. His brown eyes were lighter now, a twinge of that mischief she knew him for.

"See you around, Y/n," Fred called back, lowering his head and walking in the other direction.

Y/n rolled her eyes, biting back her smile as she walked down the corridor, back to the Slytherin common room, and away from Fred.

Or so she thought.

Before she'd even reached the portrait door entrance, he was sprinting down the hallway, but Y/n didn't hear his rapidly approaching footsteps until he was directly next to her.

She turned her head as he slowed to a stop, cheeks tinted red from running, breathing heavily. His eyes bore an unreadable emotion.

"What are you-?" She started to ask, but his lips were on hers before she could finish, his hands on either side of her face.

The kiss was short and plain, simply testing the waters. He pulled back, swallowing thickly and searching her eyes for any sign of anger, ready to take a slap if needed.

Y/n blinked once, scoffing slightly.

"You're an idiot," She breathed, shaking her head, grabbing him by the collar, and yanking him down until their lips connected.

Fred kissed her back almost immediately, one hand cupping her cheek and the other resting on her hip.

Y/n knew it was wrong, knew that she was putting them both in danger, but oh, how she felt so warm in his embrace.

Her mind was screaming for her to pull away and slap him across the face, but her heart, her body-her soul wouldn't let her.

Y/n always thought there was no room for anyone in her heart except herself, but he was slowly changing her mind, cracking open the stone casing of her soul and weaseling his way inside without lifting a pinky. Many suitors had tried and failed to break down her walls for years, and he'd done it in three hours.

Gathering her thoughts, she pulled away, wide-eyed and dazed. Her chest rose and fell with each rapid breath she took.

Fred stared into her eyes with a soft, warm sincerity she'd only seen in movies and read about in fictitious novels, and now it was real. She wasn’t thinking coherently anymore. She wanted him, and he wanted her. 

Why couldn’t they have each other?

They were practically running through the Slytherin common room, trying and failing to shield Fred’s identity from the other students.

“I’m pretty sure at least three first years saw us,” Fred whispered to her as they reached the top of the steps.

“Fuck. I’ll just scare them into not snitching,” Y/n sighed, peering down the hall before unlocking her dorm.

Fred laughed at her mumbles, smiling wickedly as she pulled him inside the dorm with her by his tie.

Their lips met before the door was even shut. Fred had to quickly push it shut before deepening the kiss.

His hands were on her hips, inviting her into his arms, which she eagerly accepted. Fred spun them around, pressing her back to the door.

Y/n couldn’t suppress the small, almost whimper-like gasp that escaped her lips when his lips trailed down her jaw.

Fred smirked against her skin, softly kissing and biting her exposed throat, leaving hickeys and open-mouthed kisses wherever he could.

Her breaths were more so moans and pants at this point. Her eyes closed to bask in the pleasure of his lips.

He skillfully lowered to his knees, propping her legs over his shoulders, her dress bunched to almost her waist.

Their eyes met again. Hers looked down at him through hazy lust and his piercing into hers with burning desire.

“May I?” Fred asked, gently tracing circles and kissing her inner thighs, waiting for her permission.

Y/n quickly nodded, the yearning heat in her core already pooling wetness in her panties.

“I need words, angel. Please,” He said again. Those warm pools of brown were entirely focused. Not a single thought behind them wasn’t about her.

Y/n closed her eyes, knocking her head back and swallowing thickly before slipping her eyes to his again.

“Yes, Fred, please,” She whispered, choking down her pride and letting herself fall apart for him.

Fred smirked, lowering himself further down and cupping her heat. The sudden jolt of her body and the gasp she emitted made his cock strain against his trousers.

The apex of his palm pressed into her clothed clit, making her bite back moans. His lips attacked her inner thighs, marking hickeys, and then kissing them better.

“So wet, and I haven’t even touched you,” He murmured into the soft flesh of her thighs. Oh, how he could die a happy man between her legs.

Y/n hand flew to his hair, lacing her fingers in the red strands as his lips made their way to the place she wanted them most.

His fingers hooked in the waistband of her underwear, slowly pulling them down in an almost teasing manner.

Y/n clenched her jaw, glaring down at Fred as he smirked back, his grin widening at her disdain.

“If you want me to do something, all you have to do is ask nicely,” He spoke, quirking a brow and rolling his tongue along his cheek to hide his enjoyment.

Y/n huffed, shaking her head and shoving her shame into a deep dark corner.

“Do something…please,” She replied in an almost whisper.

“What was that? Speak up, love,” Fred said, even though he’d heard her every word.

“Oh fuck off you-” She started, but he cut her off with his tongue, slipping it inside her aching slit.

Y/n let out a loud, gasping moan, knocking her head against the door and arching herself further into Fred.

“Shh. I thought you didn’t want the others hearing us?” Fred cooed, a hint of mischief lacing his tone.

His tongue worked against her clit, flicking over the sensitive little bud while he slipped a finger inside her entrance, adding a second once after a few moments, curling them up against her g-spot.

“Fuck you,” Y/n breathed, her mouth hanging open as his tongue and fingers worked magic between her legs.

Fred smiled into her cunt, hitting the perfect places with each stroke and thrust, tongue lapping up the juices of her arousal as they leaked from her needy cunt. One of her hands was in his hair, the other covering her mouth to muffle the erotic sounds threatening to spill from her lips.

Suddenly, the knob beside her hip began to turn, making her quickly uncover her mouth and stop whoever it was from coming inside.

Fred quickly shot up at the noise, his eyes going wide.

“What the hell-? Y/n, are you in there?” Madelyn called from the other side of the door, jiggling the knob again.

“Uh, yeah, but I’m uh-” Y/n tried to think of an excuse, but nothing came to mind. She looked down at Fred for help, but his lips simply turned into an evil smirk. Pressing a finger to his lips before continuing to eat her out, flattening his tongue and running it up her slit to her clit before closing his lips around the nub and sucking.

Y/n gasped out, clasping a hand over her mouth before uncovering it to hold the door again.

“Hold on. Are you getting fuck-”

“Madelyn, I think you should find someplace else to sleep!” Y/n shouted, cutting Madelyn off.

Y/n heard a snort from the other side, along with a mumble of something incoherent.

“Enjoy your night, Y/n. Don’t get pregnant,” Madelyn snickered, walking down the hall without another word.

“You are a complete and utter imbecile-” Y/n hissed at Fred, moaning out in pleasure as his fingers hit her g-spot, her gummy walls clenching around his lanky digits as she neared her orgasm.

The knot in her core was tightening faster than she could comprehend. It was burning and coiling- seconds away from breaking.

“Freddie-” She whimpered his name, her fingers tightly gripping his hair, making him smile against her cunt, his brown eyes staring up at her with mischief and lust.

The knot in her stomach snapped. Her legs tried to close around his head as her back arched against the door. The waves of pleasure coursing through her veins enough to make her eyes roll into her head.

Fred forced her legs apart, letting her ride out her high, his tongue lazily stroking her clit as her thighs shook with pleasure, chin dripping with her juices.

Y/n swallowed, her chest rapidly rising and falling as she struggled to regain her breath. One of her hands was still in his hair, loosely grasping it.

She lowered her eyes, looking at him through a hazy lidden gaze. His hair was messy and falling over his forehead, his tie was now loose, hanging half-hazardously around his neck, and his eyes were staring into hers with pure passion and devotion.

“Hi,” Y/n spoke. Her mascara was runny and smudged, and her forehead had a slight shine of sweat, but Fred thought she was beautiful. He was completely and utterly enamored.

Fred laughed, smiling up at her and shaking his head, the corners of his eyes creasing as he smiles.

“Hi,” He replied, setting her carefully back onto her legs and rising to his full height, looking down at her once again.

There was silence for a moment, and then Y/n brought her hand to the back of his neck, connecting their lips.

Fred kissed her back, lifting her into his arms again and carrying her to the closest bed.

“Ah- no, this is Madelyn’s,” Y/n quickly said.

Fred rolled his eyes and carried her to the other, setting her down before hovering overtop and kissing her deeply.

Y/n started unbuttoning his shirt, fumbling with the buttons until she could remove it from his body.

Fred threw the shirt, not caring where it ended up. Y/n’s hands ran down his torso, tracing from his broad shoulders to his abs. It was safe to say he was muscular and toned with muscles, but not obnoxiously.

Y/n kissed along his jawline as he unzipped her dress, leaving a hickey directly on his jaw.

“If you get me a detention-” Fred muttered as he started to drag her dress down her shoulders. 

“Oh, hush,” Y/n spoke, tenderly kissing the fresh bruise and leaning back to admire her work.

If she were a patient woman, she’d take her time to kiss every freckle dotted across his pale skin, but her mind was clouded with lust. She’d kiss them later.

Y/n finished taking off her dress, not caring where it fell to. Fred was kissing along her throat, one hand snaking around her back, unclipping her bra with concerning skill and tossing it to the side.

“Done this much?” She inquired, smirking when he lifted his gaze to hers.

“I’ve had my fair share of practice,” Fred replied, matching her teasing energy. Reaching forward to her face, he brushed a stray piece of her hair away, smiling softly.

Their eye contact felt intimate, as if it meant more than a night of lust. 

“Fred,” Y/n said quietly, her hand reaching up, fingers dancing along his jaw.

“Yeah?” Fred answered. Even if he didn’t know it, he was completely, and utterly hers. It was as if she’d enchanted him.

“Your eyes are beautiful,” Y/n whispered, brushing her thumb along his cheekbone. Her pupils dilated, longingly staring into his eyes, his beautiful eyes.

Fred swallowed, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as his mouth opened to speak- but no words left his lips. He couldn’t answer her. There were no words to describe how he felt.

So instead of speaking, he dipped down, connecting their lips again, kissing her with so much force and passion that their teeth clashed together, but neither seemed to care.

Her makeup was a lost cause at this point. Her lipstick was smeared everywhere, across his lips, along his cheek, and down his jawline.

His hands ran along her body, massaging her chest, his mouth leaving hers to start kissing her breasts, tongue flicking over sensitive nipples, teeth nipping softly.

“Oh- Fred-” She mewled, her eyes squeezed tightly shut, hand lacing into his hair, small sharp whimpers flying from her lips.

Fred groaned as she reached down to his trousers, her fingers hooking into his belt loops and pulling him even closer.

He skillfully unbuckles his belt with concerning ease, tossing it to the floor and returning his lips to hers.

Y/n pushed her hips up against Fred’s bulge, still covered by his boxers, and he couldn’t help but rasp out a low noise from his throat, almost a moan.

Y/n slid her hands down his toned abdomen, her nails lightly scratching his v-line as she dipped her fingers into the waistband of his boxers, starting to tug them down impatiently.

Fred lets out a breathy laugh at her impatience and quickly helps her pull his boxers off, freeing his already-hardened cock. The red tip leaking pre-cum.

Y/n’s eyes widen slightly. She expected him to be above average, but not this big- he was at least 8.5 inches in length with a pretty sizable amount of girth as well as a slight curve to the right. 

Fred noticed her expression and laughed, taking her chin in his hand and bringing her lips back to his as he hoisted one of her legs up over his shoulder, the head of his cock teasingly rubbing up and down her slit, bumping at the hood of her clit.

Y/n let out a soft whine, biting her lip and pressing her cheek against Fred’s freckled shoulder as she bucks her hips against his dick, practically begging for him to thrust inside. 

“Fred, please-” Y/n says breathlessly, her leg hooking around him.

Fred, detecting her neediness, kisses her on the cheek before slowly and gently easing his cock into her wet and aching pussy, but no matter how ready she thought she was the stretch of his size made her tense up. 

“Fuck- you’re tight. You gotta relax f’me, sweetheart,” Fred says through gritted teeth, the squeezing of her walls around his cock almost enough to make him burst on the spot.

Y/n lets out a shaky breath, adjusting to his size and letting out a moan as he pushes all the way in, her insides feeling so full as he starts to move. 

Fred thrusts in and out of her cunt at a moderate pace, not wanting to hurt her by being too rough. It was her first time taking a cock this large.

The head of his cock nudges against her g-spot just right, causing her to let out a string of whimpers and whines, occasionally bumping against her cervix, which was only slightly painful. His pelvis grinding against her clit in just the right way to stimulate the bud.

“F-Faster-” Y/n says in an exasperated voice, needing Fred to go faster, her second orgasm already building in her stomach, the white-hot feeling causing her to curl her toes

Fred doesn’t hesitate to follow her command, picking up the pace and groaning against her neck as she clenches around his cock, telling him she’s close to finishing, as is he.

“Fuck- Y/n. I don’t think I can last much longer-” Fred manages to say through heavy breaths, sweat rolling down his skin as he grips the sheets until his knuckles go white.

The sound of skin slapping together consumes the room as Fred’s thrusts become more sloppy and desperate as he nears his orgasm, his breathing uneven and rushed.

“Ah- Fred, I’m coming-” Y/n says, her climax building up fast and crashing over her hard, back arching, hips spasming against his as her legs shake. Her eyes seemed to roll into the back of her head as the hot waves of pleasure hit her like lightning.

Fred finishes a few seconds after, barely managing to pull out before he comes, hot ropes of white cum shooting from his cock onto her stomach as he rides out his high.

Fred collapses beside her, both of them breathing heavily as they recover from the previous activity. 

Fred is the first to rise, grabbing his boxers and sliding them on before kissing Y/n softly on the forehead. He walks to the bathroom and grabs a towel, wetting it with warm water. 

The feeling of a warm damp towel on her stomach jolts Y/n from her little trance, and she looks up at for a moment Fred as he cleans her up before laying back down with a tired sigh. 

Fred simply smiles and sighs, biting his cheek as he gets up and starts to root through her closet for a shirt she can wear to bed, finding one with a picture of a Hippogriff on it and then handing it to her so she can slip it on.

Y/n lays in her bed, makeup a disaster and her hair a mess, but Fred thinks she could never be more beautiful.

“Are you staying?” Y/n asks from her bed, finally managing to sit up, drinking the glass of water Fred had fetched for her. 

“I can if you want me to,” Fred says, stopping in the middle of gathering his clothes, not expecting her to want him to stay.

Y/n bites her lip and shifts a little on the bed her face flushing slightly as she murmurs. “I want you to,”

----

Hope you all enjoyed it and have a wonderful day!

[aoioozora]

Simon.

Part 12

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 13

Character: Simon Riley / Ghost Content: Biker! Ghost x Fem! Reader, strangers to lovers, fluff, civilian au Note: Finally a new update! Thanks for your patience. Please excuse any mistakes or if this is weird lmao. Enjoy :))

The following week saw a flood of photos from the camping trip in ____’s phone. 

Johnny had created a WhatsApp group and added everyone, having them send all the photos and videos they took. Johnny and Gaz had taken the most photos, followed by ____, Lindsey, and finally, Simon, who had none to share. 

Upon obtaining her number, Gaz privately messaged _____. 

Kyle: Hey, Kyle here 

____: Hey! what's up?

Kyle: I got something you might like 

____: what's that? 

Kyle then proceeded to send her a photo of her and Simon huddled together on the porch of the cabin, fast asleep, basked in the gentle blue light of dawn, a photo that wasn’t shared in the group. She texted back at the speed of light,

____: You took a picture of us??!! 

Kyle: I knew you'd like it 😂

____: I don't know how to feel about this 

Kyle: Be happy, it’s a nice memento of the camping 😏

Kyle: You got a cute picture with your lad that you can show those blokes who try to chat you up 😏

____: “your lad” 😭😭

Kyle: Damn right he is your lad

Kyle: I know you like him

____: is it that obvious??

Kyle: you’re about as obvious as a deer in the headlights

Kyle: listen here

Kyle: you should make a move on him

____: what??

Kyle: He likes you back 

Kyle: so make a move 

Kyle: before he gets taken away, or you for that matter 

Although she could tell that Simon was interested in her, actually having it said to her outright was butterfly and blush-inducing. She quickly typed away, 

____: right gotchu 

____: do I have competition though

Kyle: not any that I know of

____: okay great

____: I guess I’ll try

Kyle: good luck 😉 

Just as she wrapped up her conversation with Kyle, her phone began to ring.

“Hey, Alejandro!” she said cheerily, “What’s up?”

“Hey, you wanna come over for dinner? I made some enchiladas. I know you like them.” 

She straightened up in her seat on the couch. “Enchiladas? I’ll be right there!” 

Before Alejandro even said anything else, she hung up and eagerly got to his front door and rang the doorbell. He opened a few moments later, chuckling. 

“Look at you, so excited,” he teased, moving away to let her in. 

“I won’t say no to Mexican food,” she winked at him and he rolled his eyes, smiling. 

He sat her down at the dining table and set down the piping hot dish that came fresh out of the oven. “Be careful, it’s hot,” he reminded her as he served the enchiladas onto her plate, giving her a flirtatious wink. 

Poor Alejandro. She was so focused on the enchiladas that she completely missed the wink. Her mouth watered at the sight and after waiting for it to cool down, she dug in and sang its praises while Alejandro amusedly poured out some beer for himself. 

“So, how did the little camping trip go?” he asked. 

“Yeah, it was fun!” she exclaimed and then began telling him about what was done during the 24 hours that she spent in the wilderness. She told him about the lake, the cabin, the tent, the waterfall, and the sunrise viewing, and showed him some of the photos.

“You guys didn't sleep in the cabin?” he asked, tilting his head slightly. 

“Well, camping isn't camping unless it's in a tent,” she said with a shrug as she stuffed a piece of the enchilada in her mouth. 

“And what about your boyfriend? Did you get to do anything fun with him?” Alejandro stared at her keenly, watching for a reaction. 

She chuckled uncomfortably and shook her head. “Nothing of that sort. I just got to watch him swim and cut some wood.” 

He pretended to be confused and disappointed. “Really? That's all? Since you two are a thing, you'd normally expect more, right?” he took a long sip of the beer, “Did you guys even sleep in the same room in the tent?” 

“Uh, no? He wanted to share a room with the guys.” 

“That's a bit odd, don't you think?” he took another thoughtful sip, finding her nonchalance rather suspicious, “I'm sure Simon already hangs out with his friends a lot. And since you're the girlfriend, don't you think you're entitled to have your time with him, or hell, even share a room while you guys are camping?”

The woman gulped, realising the mental gymnastics it needed to take to keep up a lie. Alejandro was sharp. 

“Uh, yeah… You're right. I didn't think of that.” she mumbled thoughtfully. 

“Didn’t think of that.” Another giveaway that she was lying to him. He took a bite of his share of enchiladas, chewing slowly. “You didn't think of it? I thought wanting your boyfriend near you as much as possible was,” he paused, “What's the word… Natural?”

She was in a pickle. Having never been in a healthy romantic relationship, she didn't ever feel that way. She pursed her lips and looked away.

Alejandro stared at her again. “Be honest, are you really dating Simon?” 

She sighed heavily. “Alright, I'm not,” she confessed. 

The man was surprised and unsurprised. He smirked, resting an elbow on the table as he leaned forward. “You're not? You lied to me then. How could you,” he playfully accused. 

She blushed with embarrassment. “Well, you see, I kept getting hit on by random men, and even got harassed once, so Simon offered to pretend to be my boyfriend to keep them away.”

Alejandro nodded slowly, understanding the underlying message even though she probably didn’t intend it. But he would not be deterred, especially not by poorly managed pretense. “I mean, you're beautiful, so no wonder they'd make a move. Although it's terrible that they thought harassing you would make you change your mind.” he shook his head. 

“Yeah, totally.” She nodded.

There was a brief silence as both of them ate. He looked up from his plate to ask, “So, if you’re really single, how about going out with me on a date?” 

She was surprised by the direct offer. “With you…?”

He noticed her hesitation and decided to manoeuvre this carefully. He was normally confident and assertive, but not wanting to scare her off, he quickly added, “It doesn’t even have to be a date. It can just be the two of us hanging out and getting to know each other. Nothing too serious. What do you think?” 

“When?” 

He smiled. “This Sunday, if you’re free.”

She thoughtfully gnawed on the prongs of the fork as she chewed her food. It was the same day Simon's family reunion was. He watched her shift in her seat. Another moment’s silence until she said, 

“I’ll let you know.”

Alejandro’s surprise proposal for a hangout/date left her dazed even the next day. Since her novel writing was completed for the day, she spent her evening considering what she should do. 

Should she give Alejandro a chance and go out with him? If she honestly had to pit him with Simon, Alejandro would win. He was handsome and had a steady income from his work and from being a model; he was friendly, outgoing, and charismatic. 

Simon had his good points too, though he was the opposite of Alejandro. Simon was sweet and quiet, considerate and gentle. However, his bloodstained past came to her mind, and she feared that danger would follow her if she continued to consider Simon. 

But she liked Simon regardless of it. She didn’t know Alejandro as well as she knew Simon; Alejandro never bared his soul to her like Simon did. If anything, they were just acquaintances turning into friends, but she and Simon already had an established friendship.

Besides, no matter how cordial Alejandro was, something about him didn’t sit right with her.

Her thoughts were interrupted by her phone ringing. Upon seeing that it was none other than Simon calling, her finger flew to the green button.

“Hey!” she squeaked.

“Hey, how are you?” he croaked hoarsely.

Not expecting him to sound like a choked frog, her eyes widened slightly. “More like how are you? You don’t sound good.”

“Just a little fever, no big deal,” he replied nonchalantly before clearing his throat. 

“A fever!” she exclaimed, sitting up straight on her bed.

“Don’t worry, darling. I’m fine,” he assured, sniffling and letting out a breathless sigh.

She paused, blinking twice. “What’d you call me for, by the way?”

He paused next. “No reason. Just wanted to hear your- I mean, hear from you. See how you were doing.”

“I’m alright, but I’m starting to worry about you.”

“C’mon darling, I’m fine, really.” 

But she was not convinced. She got off the bed and stood up, saying resolutely, “I’ll come over right now.”

His burning eyes flew open on the other side. “No you’re not. You’ll catch my fever.”

“Don’t worry about that. Is there anyone with you right now?”

“No, but I can take care of myself. You really don’t have to come. I’m not a kid that needs taking care of.”

She frowned at that. “I know, but I want to take care of you. So let me!”

There was silence on the other end of the line for a moment, until his sigh broke it. “Can you bring some fever medicine?”

She smiled widely. “Okay.”

Simon’s arm weakly flopped back down on his chest after the call had ended. “She’s coming.” he thought, forcing himself up with a grunt. He began to slowly gather up the used tissues on his night stand and threw them away in the bin. 

He washed his hands and then brought a disinfectant spray and a cloth, wiping down all the surfaces in his room she might touch when she came. He stopped his cleaning when he felt another shiver rattle his body. Hurrying to his room, he grabbed a blanket and wrapped himself in it and then sat in the living room, waiting for ____ to come. 

She came speedily and no sooner was he about to doze off, the doorbell woke him up. Rising, he ran a hand through his tousled locks and then opened the door. She was right before him, a grocery tote bag slung on her shoulder. 

“Hey,” he croaked again as he opened the door wider to let her inside, “You’re here quicker that I thought.”

“Can’t let my friend go dying now, can I?” she smiled as she entered, silently pitying how pathetic a fever made him look. His cheeks and nose were flushed, his eyes were squinted and heavy-looking, and a thin layer of sweat sat like dew on his brow.

His cheeks rose to his eyes in a chuckle as he wrapped the blanket tighter around himself. “Dying? People don’t die of fevers, darling, especially not big, strong men like me,” he boasted, even though he felt like he was going to die.

She scoffed, seeing that a fever hadn’t dulled his spirits in the least. “Johnny doesn’t know you’re sick?” she asked as he motioned her to the couch to sit down. 

He sat down away from her and shook his head. “He’ll come over and fuss over me,” he chuckled, “I wanted to be alone.”

“Oh,” her smile and her shoulders dropped, “is that why you didn’t want me to come?” 

He quickly shook his head. “No, no. I’m glad you’re here. I just didn’t want you to get sick because of me.”

“Don’t worry, I have a strong immune system,” she bragged, cradling her tote bag in her arms. “Speaking of, I brought you some lemons. They’re good for fevers.”

He smirked. “Don’t tell me you brought the whole grocery store in your bag,” he teased. 

She grinned. “I did, just for you,” she answered, nose in the air. She kept the tote aside and stood up, now moving towards him. She took his wrist and tugged him. “Come on, you should get back in bed.”

He smirked again, planting himself firmly in his seat. “I don’t want to,” he said, voice playful.

She frowned at him and continued to tug his arm. “Come onnn.” 

But he continued to obstinately sit where he was, allowing his smirks to turn into amused chuckles at her attempts to get him to move. She continued regardless, grunting and grumbling, but secretly happy that he was still cheerful despite his sickness. She turned around, back facing him and continued to pull his arm like he was a truck being pulled by a rope. 

He was tempted to wrap his arm around her stomach and pull her to his lap, but he resisted. “Okay, okay, I’m up,” he relented, finally getting out of his seat and towering to his full height. 

“About time you did.” She rolled her eyes, smiling. 

Simon directed her to his room and as soon as they were inside, he made a beeline to the bed and sat down, slouching against the wall. 

“I’ll make you some tea,” she said, making her way to the door.

“I should be doing that.”

“Shut up. You’re literally sick.” she smirked.

As soon as she left, Simon let out a sigh. He looked at the floor-length mirror across from his bed, and he could see how dishevelled he looked. He ran his hand through his hair again, as if it would magically transform him from a beast to a prince. 

He felt another shiver and the goosebumps form on his arms, making him crawl under his duvet. She soon came in with his mismatched coffee mugs of steaming tea, and the room smelled like lemons and honey, the same scent that filled the living room when she came over for the first time. 

“I really like your glass teapot,” she said, placing the tray down on his nightstand, finding him bundled up under the duvet. 

“Is that code for ‘I broke your teapot’?” he teased, now sitting up and receiving the mug from  her.

“Are you normally this cheeky when you’re sick?” she asked with a giggle as she looked around for a chair to sit on.

“Only with you, darling,” he answered, motioning to a wooden stool in the corner of the room. 

She was glad she had to face away from him as he said that, for the words gave her a flutter. “Only with me.” She felt terrible for even comparing him to Alejandro. Simon’s lighthearted teasing and banter didn’t compare to Alejandro’s. 

She grabbed the stool and brought it next to the bed and sat down. While he was busy taking a tentative sip of his steaming hot tea, she took a moment to observe his room.

The confines of the four walls were basked in the gentle light of his gold LED light strips that skirted the edges of the ceiling. The same walls were painted a relaxing navy-blue, one of which was adorned with posters of familiar video games and shelves filled with figurines of those video game characters, huddled together like people at a busy intersection.

“A gamer." she observed. His desk sat opposite to the bed, and a sleek setup sat on top of it with its creamy white desktop monitor, RGB CPU, and keyboard. A pair of cat-ear headphones rested against the keyboard, indicating recent use. Photos were stuck to the wall with clear tape just above the desk, and the photo booth pictures she took with him shared the space with his friends and family. None of the photos were stuck on the wall straight, but like a pack of cards fallen on the floor.

Another shelf sat right next to the photos. It had a few books stacked on top of each other, but only one stood facing her directly, straight and tall. Firefly Trails, her novel. Even from away, she could see that the copy was dog-eared and the base of its spine slightly worn from how much it was read. And as a reader herself, she knew that a worn book was a loved book. A flutter tickled her stomach. She wondered how many times he’d gone through the pages, and if he was one to underline and annotate.

His bedroom had more personality than the rest of his apartment, which was expected. His living room was prim, proper, and neat, but his bedroom was a meticulously organized chaos.

Simon saw that she was observing his personal space and didn’t interrupt her. He longed to ask her what she thought of his room, but didn’t want to come off as too conscious of it. He liked his room for sure, but wasn’t sure if she liked it.

He kept staring at her as she observed, and only quickly looked away when she turned his way. 

“When did you catch a fever?” she asked.

No comments on the room. He was positively disappointed.

“Just today,” He answered as he sat back, “Couldn’t fix a lot of cars at the garage. I felt a bit chilly. Asked the lads if it was and they said no.”

“I wonder if it was from the camping.”

“I think so,” he mumbled, “I was alright before that. Anyway, by the time I came back, I was shivering and I suspected a fever, so I checked me temperature and I got thirty-eight degrees.”

“Oh, that’s high,” she said pityingly, taking a sip of her tea. She reached out and pressed her hand against his forehead, an action that made his eyes widen slightly. “Yeah, it’s high,” she confirmed, feeling the burn linger in her hand as she pulled it away.

Her touch lingered on his forehead and he sighed at the absence of it. He practically wanted to pull her in bed but couldn’t; she was so near yet so far. 

“And your family reunion is this weekend too,” she then asked, “will you be able to go?”

Simon’s gaze turned distant as he paused to take a sip of tea from his mug. He really didn’t want to go. Not only would he have to uphold a lie, but also be around his father for a few hours. He welcomed the fever, wanted it to extend past the appointed date even, but he already promised his mum that he’d be there, and with his “girlfriend.”

“Yeah,” he answered, “My fever should be alright by then.”

“Speaking of, Alejandro asked me out yesterday,” she said.

Simon’s eyes darted to her face. The jealousy bubbled up in his stomach. He had made a move, huh? “Did he?” He asked coolly.

“Yeah, and on the same day of the reunion too. He said it would be nothing serious, just a fun hangout.”

Simon had to keep himself from letting out an annoyed growl. “What did you tell him then?”

“I said I’d let him know.”

He drew in a breath. “I’ll let him know.” It wasn’t a straight “yes” or a “no”. That meant that she was considering Alejandro. His hand squeezed the warm mug in his hand. 

“You should go out with him,” Simon answered half-heartedly, looking away, “I don’t mind if you bailed on the reunion.”

She felt a spear go right through her chest and a small frown tugged her lips. Was she hearing him right?

“I… honestly didn’t even want to go,” he added, “I don’t even want to be around my dad.”

“But you promised your mum,” she reminded, leaning forward, “And I promised to come with you too.”

Simon sighed. He’d never show his face at home if his father was around and it was tempting once again to not go. But he’d miss seeing the rest of the family who rarely came down, even for the holidays; cousins, nieces and nephews, uncles and aunts.

“Yeah, I’ll…” he said in a breathless sigh, staring at the mug in his hand helplessly. He rubbed a hand down his face. “I’ll figure something out.”

She saw that he didn’t even raise his head to look at her. Did he really not want her to go with him? Did he not want her at all?

It was far too awkward and suffocating in the room for her to sit any longer. She rose from her seat with her mug of tea. “I’ll make you something,” she said.

“Wait, you don’t have to-” 

But she was already out the bedroom door as he said those words. He cursed under his breath. Keeping aside his mug of tea, he laid back on the bed, crossing his wrists over his eyes. 

Was this the right call, telling her to go out with Alejandro? Simon felt like Alejandro was a way better choice. Maybe she’d be happier with him. Simon had a history of violent acts, near trysts with Death even, and who knew if his sins were crawling around, trying to look for him?

It didn’t help that going back home meant that he’d be in the domain of that gang he was once a part of. Who knew if he’d meet his old “friends” again. He’d exposed the gang’s secrets to the police when they interrogated him, and who knew if the existing members were waiting for a chance to pounce on him for this. 

He groaned softly as he pulled the blanket over his head. His fever felt like death over these heavy, burdensome thoughts, and he didn’t want to think of it.

Neither did she, but it was all she could think of as she looked around in his cabinets for instant oats. 

She was on the verge of tears. At this point, she would’ve thought she had something with Simon, but he just had to say that. And she had just felt encouraged by Gaz to make a move too. She stood there in front of the stove under an open overhead cabinet, sighing. 

You should go out with him.

You should go out with him.

You should go out with him.

It wasn’t a misunderstanding. He knew what he was saying. He meant it. 

She found the instant oats and began to cook it over the stove with the enthusiasm of a dead rabbit. 

Maybe Simon was right. She should go out with Alejandro. Every practical and logical reasoning demanded for Alejandro, but her emotions vouched for Simon. She had an actual relationship with him, a friendship. Sure, Alejandro would be a better choice, but who was he in front of Simon?

The oats bubbled noisily on the stove, threatening to be burned. She quickly snapped out of her thoughts and turned off the stove, sighing heavily. Digging in a spoon, she found that it was very close to burning the bottom of the vessel. She shook her head.

After checking if there was enough salt, she served the porridge in a bowl and topped it with some cut fruit and some roasted sunflower seeds that she brought along. She placed it on a tray and took a deep breath as she made her way to his bedroom.

“Simon?” she called softly as she peeked inside. 

No answer. His body was still under the blanket, save for the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

She let out a sigh she didn’t know she was holding, both of disappointment and relief. Returning back to the kitchen, she placed a lid on the bowl and kept it aside. Taking her now lukewarm tea, she returned to the room and tip-toed closer to the sleeping Simon.

His brows were slightly furrowed as he was cocooned under the blanket. Gently pulling it away from his face, she lightly pressed her hand against his forehead. His temperature burned against her hand, but her hand lingered. He didn’t stir.

How sweet he looked sleeping there. Her hand moved from his forehead to weave through his sweat-damp hair, looking admiringly at him, at his thin, pink lips, at his slightly hooked, bent nose, at the scar on his cheek.

The scar. It was a stark reminder of his past, both to him and to her. She hesitated, but found her finger moving to lightly trace the indent on his cheek.

Alejandro’s face was perfect and spotless compared to Simon’s; not a scar, not a blemish. Alejandro was beautiful, more so than Simon. Anyone who had eyes would choose the former over the latter.

But she bent down and pressed the lightest of kisses on his scarred cheek. It was risky business to do it, both for the present and the future, but she didn’t care. She knew what she wanted; hated herself for even putting the two against each other, even in her mind. 

In her heart, there was only one man in this world she would choose. Just one.

Simon.

End of Part 12.

Part 13

--

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[thalialunacy]

[for the @calaisreno May Prompts-all-the-Time; just a wee silly interlude today]

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) 14: eavesdropping (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20) (21) (22) (23) (24) (25) (26) (27) (28) (29) (30) (31)

Greg Lestrade has tried only three times, in the several aggravating years of their acquaintance, to surprise his friend Sherlock Holmes. It has yet to work, even when Sherlock was off his tit. The bastard.

But Greg has a new plan. Time has passed; he'd like to think he's learned a thing or two. And he has a new ally: Rosie Watson. 

Sure, she's too small to be a super spy--yet--but she is a very excellent excuse to come round the flat. 

She's undoubtedly getting spoiled, this one, as if everyone involved is trying to miraculously compensate for a lost mum, even though they know it's futile. 

But also? Kids are fun when they're little. And Greg has no issue admitting he misses those days. Especially when he can hand the kid back when the nappy needs changing. It's brilliant.

And it's nearly John's birthday, so he figures he can kill two birds with one stone. Surprising Sherlock is just a bonus, a personal challenge he lays out for himself every once in a while. To keep his mind sharp. Like sudoku, but one where the sudoku insults you afterwards.

Today, he's prepared: He's bribed Mrs Hudson with some (completely legal, thanks) CBD sweeties. He's noted which stairs squeak. He's planned it for a time he reckons Rosie will be home and awake. He knows Sherlock isn't on any case for the Yard.

Yes, there's a chance John will be at his day job, or Sherlock will be on a private case, but those are chances he just has to take.

He holds the carefully wrapped package under his arm and starts up the stairs. He can hear music, immediately recognisable as Frozen II, but not much else.

One he gets to the landing, he considers the two doors in front of him. He listens again, harder, and thinks he can hear Sherlock and John conversing under the soundtrack, and thinks they're in the sitting room.

So he just goes for it. Opens the kitchen door slow as treacle, then peeks round.

He blinks, then pulls back. Has he just seen-- 

He peeks around again.

Yep. Yep, he has definitely seen Sherlock and John standing in front of the fireplace, in between their well-loved chairs, and kissing like the world is theirs to command: That feeling of a new relationship, which is a bit of luck considering how long those two blokes have known each other, but…

He rubs his eyes, then goes back for one more look.

Same picture, only this time-- Sherlock, eyes closed and expression intense as he holds John's face in one hand and explores his mouth without shame, uses the other hand to make two fingers in Greg's direction behind John's back.

Greg almost laughs out loud. Instead, he leaves the gift on the landing and heads back out. There's only so much a man wants to know about his mates.

He grins to himself. New new plan: Never try to surprise Sherlock Holmes again.

[ <3 ]

[hesbuckcompton-baby]

Better Off - Bernard DeMarco x OFC - Chapter 2

Masterlist | Chapter 1 |-| Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12

AO3

Summary: During a party at the officers' club, DeMarco gets the chance to smooth things over with Susie, and she shows her true colours when defending one of her friends

Warnings: Language, smoking, harassment, misogyny, violence

Word Count: 3.6k

Tags: @xxluckystrike @latibvles @footprintsinthesxnd @mads-weasley @joyfulbookreviewmarvelspy

Susie jolted awake to the sudden bang of a door swinging shut, squinting in the unbearable brightness of the light which she assumed to be morning. "Susie!" Charlotte's voice hit her ears, and she folded her arms tightly over her head to block everything out, inhaling the smell of cigarette smoke. That was strange.

"What?" She groaned.

"You fell asleep in your uniform. Get up."

Blinking slowly, Susie looked down at herself, and sure enough, she was dressed head-to-toe in her dress greens, her shoes still on her feet, one leg dangling off the side of her mattress as she lay on top of the crumpled blankets. "...Oh shit. Is it morning?"

One of the other ATS girls let out a bark of laughter, and Charlotte shook her head, a smile curling her lip. "No. We just got in from the pub, it's been... what, three hours since you left?"

"God, no wonder I feel like shit."

"You look like it too. Are you sure you're alright? Not like you to call it a night after only one pint."

Susie's hand fell to her pocket, and she felt the cool metal of the money DeMarco had given her against her fingertips. She nodded weakly. "Yeah. No, I'm just tired."

Charlotte raised a brow discerningly, sitting down on the edge of Susie's bed. "Right. Get up, get out of that uniform, and tell me what's wrong. I'll iron your stuff tomorrow, I have to do mine anyway."

Her brow was furrowed in confusion but she obliged nonetheless, rising to her feet as she began to peel away her uniform, the inhabitants of their hut far too familiar with one another to be embarrassed about any state of undress. "What, you want to... listen to me talk about my feelings?"

"Yes, Susie. You know - like an actual human."

"Sounds terrible-"

"Susie!"

"Right, yeah, ok. Well... I think I'm frustrated."

Charlotte's mouth hung slightly agape, as if watching a baby giraffe learn to walk for the first time. "... you think?"

"No, no. I am," She nodded firmly. "... Yeah. There was a bloke I thought might've been my friend but it turned out he was pissin' me about."

"What a shit."

"...Yeah." Susie agreed, a distinct air of uncertainty lacing her voice. Charlotte stared at her like she was encountering alien life for the first time. The cold night air stung her bare skin as she hurried to pull on some pyjamas, uniform laid out as neatly as she could upon the bed. Even inside the Nissen huts, it was never fully warm - on particularly nasty nights, the women would pass around thick, wool socks so that everyone could double up on layers, the thin army-issue blankets doing little to keep them insulated. "Can I go back to sleep now?"

"Y'know, I don't think you're mean, Suze," Charlotte pointed out as she gathered the crumpled clothes. "Just... socially incompetent."

"Noted," Susie nodded, collapsing face-first onto the bed, the spring mattress shrieking its objection as she bounced up and down a few times below slowly settling to a halt. In her mind, it didn't matter why people didn't like her - they just did, and she wasn't very interested in changing herself to avoid it. Everyone had always liked her sisters growing up, and it mostly seemed to mean that they never got left alone. But Susie liked being left alone.

Or at least, she managed to convince herself that she did.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The sun had long since set, a warm glow and the echo of brass music echoing from within the officers' club, a steady hum of conversation carrying on the breeze. Standing out in the darkness, back pressed against the wall, Susie pulled her cigarette away from her lips, a huge cloud of smoke erupting before her. She and Charlotte sported matching lights, the small, burning embers flickering orange as they puffed away in silence. Charlotte smoked about a dozen a day, but she refused to do it inside, repulsed by both the lingering smell of her own smoke and the thought of men watching her do it. It always seemed hypocritical to Susie, but nevertheless, she accompanied her, waiting patiently until they were both done.

"Freddy's back in town on Wednesday," Charlotte stated, breaking the silence that hung between them. She had been engaged to the RAF pilot for over a year, but there had never been time or money enough to arrange the lavish wedding they both so desperately wanted. Susie had only met the man once or twice, but he seemed a good bloke to her, albeit excessively chipper. She never quite trusted optimists.

"Oh, give him my best. I've got a pick-up run to fucking Peterborough on that day - apparently, they've got a shortage of vehicles, so I've gotta go all the way to them. Bloody waste of a day, really," She complained, lightly kicking one of the old empty beer bottles on the ground and sending it spinning across the tarmac.

"You should get the truck checked before you go - you'd hate to break down somewhere. I can call Bevan or something, she'll give it a look."

"Nah. I haven't been having any problems, I won't waste her time. She's got enough on her plate."

One of their bunkmates, a young woman named Maeve, tore open the door to the club, the music splitting the air. Her hat sat lop-sided on her head, cropped blonde hair erupting in frizz from the sweat that beaded on her forehead. "Are you gonna come in or what? I've already danced with three Yanks, how long does it take to smoke one fag?"

"Alright, Jesus," Susie rolled her eyes, twisting her heel as she stomped hers out. The sudden noise was jarring as they headed inside, and it took her eyes a moment to adjust to the light after spending so much time outside. She couldn't quite remember what the party was even for, but the Americans didn't strike her as a group in need of much of a reason for one.

The women from her hut were all either crowded at one end of the bar or dancing with some of the men that filled the room, and Susie immediately made a beeline for the former, utterly uninterested in a bit of dull conversation or awkward flirting with a man she'd undoubtedly never speak to again. Her sister Beatrice often complained she had an un-romantic view of the world - she preferred the term 'realist'.

She had barely had time to take a sip of her first drink before she felt a tug at her trouser leg. Peering down, she met a familiar pair of dark eyes, Meatball's tongue lolling out of his mouth as he stared up at her, tail thumping against Maeve's leg as it wagged incessantly. The women were delighted by his sudden appearance, crouching down to scratch beneath his chin and rub under his belly, the dog revelling in the attention. But Meatball's presence meant one thing.

"Susie?"

Susie stood up straight, wiping a line of beer foam away from her lip as she found herself face-to-face with DeMarco, a stern frown creasing her expression. She'd managed to successfully avoid him for nearly a week, but with her back pressed up against the bar there was no escape.

She never dressed like she was supposed to be where she was. It was something Benny liked about her. Her hair fell uncurled down her back, her tie hanging loose around her neck, the top button of her shirt undone. Hand planted firmly on her hip, she appeared even more irritated by his presence than she had the first time they'd met.

"Look, can we-" He paused, an idea slowly surfacing. "... Will you dance with me?"

Maeve and Charlotte were both staring, expressions prompting her forward. DeMarco's friends were huddled nearby, clearly watching the scene, close enough to hear every word.

He's backed you into a corner. He's forcing you to answer. If you say no, he's made sure you're the one who'll look like an asshole.

What a dick.

"Fine." Teeth clenched, a bitter sweetness lacing her voice, she seized his arm, marching him towards the dancefloor and leaving the other women to fawn and coo over Meatball.

He stared down at the hand she had on his sleeve, frowning at the stiffness of her grip. Her shoulders were visibly tense, and he could feel the reluctance in every step she took. "... You look nice," He pointed out, flashing a smile.

Susie paused in the centre of the floor, taking his hand with about as much enthusiasm as if she were at a funeral. "Right. Sure."

The music had picked up, more than a dozen couples filling the room, dancing merrily. DeMarco liked this song. He'd danced to it countless times, with far more cheerful, willing partners. He could feel the warmth of her skin as he put a hand on her waist, and with a start realised that she was actually rather good at this. Staring down at the smooth movement of her feet, he almost forgot what he had come to say.

Clearing his throat slightly, Benny met her eye. “Susie, look. I know I don’t know you very well-”

“That is correct," She nodded firmly, and he fought the urge to scoff.

“Can you let me finish?! Jesus. I know I don’t know you very well - but - I can tell you’re not going to admit you were wrong. So I’m gonna do it for you. Susie, you were wrong. I was not trying to use you to get close to your friends - one of Charlotte’s friends had a date with one of my guys tonight, and I was asked to pass on a message that he had to cancel. That's why I needed to talk to her, you were just so-...” His mouth opened and shut as he tried to find the word, hand releasing hers for a moment to flail wildly in the air. “-You!"

Her gaze had begun to soften, and for a moment he felt a pit of guilt burrow in his stomach. "…But I’m sorry that’s happened to you before. Some guys can be real jerks.”

“Oh, really, thank you for the warning,” Susie said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. DeMarco frowned flatly, and she cleared her throat. “Right. Yeah… Ok.” 

"It usually helps when you let people finish their sentences," He shrugged, and she tilted her head to the side, eyes narrowing. When he slipped his hand back into hers, she was noticeably less tense.

"Well, I didn't know what you were gonna say."

"Exactly, Suze. That's what the rest of the sentence was for," DeMarco pointed out, unable to restrain a chuckle, flashing a boyish, lopsided grin. She felt her cheeks heat up, and let out a snort of laughter herself, her stubbornness ridiculous in hindsight. After a moment, Susie couldn't help but laugh - a real, melodious laugh, erupting from deep within her throat, eyes squeezed shut as her head tilted forward, a single auburn curl slipping over her shoulder to hang in her face.

He paused, the shuffling of his feet slowing, falling out of time with the music. She seemed all hard lines and rough edges, far too much so to ever produce such a wonderful sound. It was the kind of laugh that made a person feel lighter just for hearing it, and DeMarco hadn't realised quite how much he'd been staring until Bucky's teasing grin caught his eye from across the room, and he snapped out of it before Susie could notice.

The song reached its end, and her steps slowed to a halt, prying her hands away from his. "Right, you interrupted me before I could finish my drink, so I'm gonna go find it," She nodded determinedly, Meatball wiggling his way through the crowd to nip at her heels as she walked, his tail wagging back and forth wildly. Accepting her departure, Benny drifted back over to his friends, accepting a drink as it was passed to him.

"Breaking that shell, huh?" Bucky asked, that same pleased smirk creasing his cheeks.

His eyes narrowed slightly, shaking his head as he took a sip of his drink. "Don't believe everything ya hear, John."

Susie pried her shoulders through the press of bodies that had gathered around the bar, hands raised as she side-stepped between a few officers, watching keenly for her half-finished beer. She spotted Maeve, stood dutifully with a glass in each hand, and realised with a smile that she'd been keeping an eye on it for her. A pilot she didn't recognise was stood beside Maeve at the bar, talking her ear off, and by the uneasy expression on her face, she wasn't exactly enjoying it.

"Thanks, love," Forcing a smile, she took her drink back, purposely shouldering in between the pair, cutting off the pilot mid-sentence. He let out a frustrated grunt, but Susie didn't offer him a second glance, placing a gentle, reassuring hand on Maeve's arm. The newest member of her crew, the girl had been freshly nineteen when she arrived at Thorpe Abbotts only a few months ago. She was bubbly, blunt, energetic, and something about her seemed familiar to Susie, something that kept her tethered at her side. "I was just talking to Charlotte-" She lied, deliberately refusing to address the third member of their party. "-and we were talking about going down to the pub instead, find some better beer."

The pilot cleared his throat, speaking up. Something about his smooth accent rubbed Susie the wrong way. "Excuse me? Maeve, we should get on the dancefloor before the next song starts."

Shaking her head, Susie wedged herself even more firmly between the two, shouldering Maeve behind her. "No, she's not gonna be doing that."

"I wasn't talking to you."

"Well, now you are."

The air itself had grown tense around them, drawing the stares of others just trying to enjoy their evening. Further down the bar, she noticed DeMarco and his friends watching with furrowed brows, sporting identical frowns as they slowly put down their beers in anticipation. She felt Maeve's fingers brush against her own behind her back, searching for her hand.

The pilot was growing more and more irritated by the second. "Listen, we're all just here to have a good time," He said tensely. "It's one dance, it's not gonna hurt anyone."

Maeve's hand squeezed hers, a wordless way of saying 'Yes it will'.

"I think we've established that's not happening, Yank. Now why don't you fuck off and bother someone else, before this becomes a problem."

He scoffed, clearly doubting Susie's ability to make this altercation any sort of problem for him. Over his shoulder, she noticed DeMarco making his way through the crowd towards them, frown darkening his entire face. "There an issue here?" He asked, voice sterner than she'd ever heard it.

"Yeah, DeMarco - why don't you come over here and put a muzzle on your bitch, huh?"

The moment the words left the man's mouth, DeMarco was lunging forward, Blakeley's hands seizing his shoulders before he could cause any real damage. A self-satisfied smirk curled the pilot's lips, but in the moment DeMarco had dove at him, he had failed to notice Susie, upturning her beer and pouring every last drop down her throat in a single gulp. By the time his head turned back towards the two women, her fist was already clenched and pulled back, and an almighty crack echoed through the officers' club as her knuckles collided with his jaw. Staggering backwards, his side slammed into the bar, undoubtedly leaving some nasty bruises as he tumbled backwards, landing flat on his ass on the polished wood floor.

A stunned silence had descended upon the room, every eye locked onto the scene, a few snickers rising from the crowd as the pilot gawped up at her, eyes wide and gormless. "C'mon," Susie uttered, taking advantage of the sudden stillness to worm her way through the crowd, tugging Maeve along by the hand, the girl staring slack-jawed at the scene as they passed.

Susie hadn't realised how stifling the officers' club was until they breached the doorway, stepping out into the cold night air, no light except for a single streetlamp, which flickered and buzzed intermittently. Her knuckles throbbed painfully, shoulder reeling from the sudden swing, but the pain seemed washed away the moment Maeve let out a laugh - a shrill, hysteric giggle, hands clamped tightly over her mouth to muffle the sound, eyes wide in shock.

"Holy shit, Susie!" She cackled, and soon Susie had begun to grin too, their expressions painted in sheer disbelief at the scene that had just occurred. "That was fucking cool! Quick - let's go back in there and kick 'im before he can get up."

"No, no!" Susie chuckled, grabbing Maeve's wrist to stop her from marching straight back inside again. "We're in enough trouble as it is, let's not, eh? Save it for next time we see him," She winked, making the younger girl giggle.

Suddenly Maeve gasped, a hand raised to her scalp. "Oh shit, I left my hat inside."

The sound of footsteps just inside the doorway caught their attention, and out hurried DeMarco, Major Egan tailing close behind, Maeve's ATS cap in hand. "You guys ok? You hurt?" Benny called, brow creased in concern.

"Oh, we are so great," Maeve laughed, accepting her hat with many grateful thanks. "I mean did you see that? One hit - bam! - down!" Susie nodded along, beginning to chuckle, her cheeks burning a bright red.

"Yeah, it'll be even more impressive if I manage to keep my job," She huffed, shoving her hands in her pockets.

"Well, I dunno about you, Benny, but I sure didn't see anything," Egan shrugged.

"Not a thing," DeMarco concurred, grinning. She met his gaze, and for a moment they both struggled not to burst into laughter.

"Right, well I'm not nearly drunk enough to go home yet," Maeve declared, glancing around at the group to gauge their reactions. "Pub? Pub anyone?"

"Not for me," Susie shook her head. "Even if everyone denies what just happened, I'm already on second chances. I'm gonna get some sleep before I have to deal with it tomorrow."

"I'll go," Egan nodded. "Keep an eye on the kid."

"Thank you," She smiled earnestly, taking Maeve's cap and tucking it beneath her arm. They'd all told the girl not to wear it out, but she'd insisted, and it was becoming burdensome. John and Maeve began making their way towards the village, their chatter muffled the further away they got. Turning on her heel, Susie began to return to her hut, before the sudden sound of approaching footsteps caught her attention.

DeMarco was walking beside her, hands in his pockets. "Walk you back?"

"And abandon your dog? Shame on you."

He shrugged. "Meatball's been all over Buck, he'll be fine. That dog's a goddamn traitor."

She chuckled. "He's going through the rebellious teenager phase - wants anyone except his dad."

"No one told me parenthood would be this hard, y'know," Benny joked, a flash of teeth peeking through his lopsided smile. "Your hand feelin' ok?"

Susie lifted the hand she'd used to punch the pilot, a twinge of pain making her wince slightly as she flexed her knuckles. DeMarco reached out to gently hold it, peering down at the bruising already blooming across the back of her palm. "It was a damn good swing, I'll give you that," He admitted, and she let out a chuckle.

Neither spoke for a moment, until he broke the silence once more. "Hey, what'd you mean when you said you're 'already on second chances'?"

"Ah," Susie nodded. "Well, that's where the reputation comes from. A while ago, before you Yanks got here, I got in an argument with an RAF officer - headbutted him so hard I broke his nose. I nearly got fired, but now everyone who's been around long enough knows about it, they think I've got a screw loose or summat."

"No shit - are you serious?"

"As the plague."

DeMarco let out a long, low whistle. "Y'know, I just assumed it was 'cause you're..."

"A grumpy old bitch?"

"Yeah, that," He agreed, letting out a guffaw as she punched him in the shoulder. "Hey! You said it, not me!"

"Prick," Susie smirked, shaking her head. The officers' club wasn't far from the ATS huts, and it wasn't long before they reached her door. Pulling Maeve's hat out from under her arm, she placed it atop her head, jokingly tipping it to him in goodbye as she fumbled for her keys. "Well, if I still have a job tomorrow I'll see you around."

"You will," DeMarco nodded. "And hey, if they try to fire you, I'll tell 'em you're essential for dog-sitting purposes."

"Oh yeah, my main calling in life," She shook her head, smiling as the lock clicked and she swung the door open. "G'night DeMarco."

"Y'know, you're allowed to call me Benny."

Her expression contorted in a grimace, clearly not a fan of the nickname. "I think I'm good."

"Jesus Christ," He muttered. "Go to bed, Susie, just get outta my sight."

With one last laugh, she slipped inside, vanishing as the door swung shut behind her, leaving him alone in the darkness. Smirking to himself, he shoved his hands into his pockets, beginning the long walk back to his bunk.

[officiallordvetinari]

r/theyrealreadyhere: The number one community for uncovering the truth about aliens that they don’t want you to know about.

The Blue Box Files new episode out now!

Posted by u/theblueboxfiles

⬆️ 2 ⬇️        🗨️ 0 comments

“Cube Invasion” - Seeking Possible Alien Artifacts

Posted by u/SuperFrog

Does anyone remember back in 2012 when millions of these things showed up everywhere? I have a theory that they're alien technology and I want to run some tests, but I need specimens. Willing to pay.

⬆️ 29 ⬇️         🗨️ 6 comments

u/thepurpleorchestra

I used to use one of these as a paperweight. Wonder if I still have it

⬆️ 3 ⬇️

u/OddlyRuthless

My mom has a box full of these in her attic that she never uses. Pm me.

⬆️ 7 ⬇️

Lost Eastenders “Den’s Ghost” Episode Full Recording

posted by u/magenta_dynamics

⬆️ 66 ⬇️         🗨️ 19 comments

Arthur Winters assassination - First Contact coverup???

posted by u/box_of_brains

⬆️ 102 ⬇️         🗨️ 30 comments

u/thepurpleorchestra

Who?

⬆️ 45 ⬇️

    u/box_of_brains

    ...Arthur Winters? The 43rd president of the United States? Killed under mysterious circumstances on a state visit to the UK in 2008?

     ⬆️ 49 ⬇️

        u/thepurpleorchestra

        I don’t know what you’re talking about. George W. Bush was the president in 2008, and he’s still alive.

       ⬆️ 36 ⬇️

            u/OddlyRuthless

            You mean Bruce Springsteen?

            ⬆️ 2 ⬇️

                u/thepurpleorchestra

                What?

                ⬆️ 10 ⬇️

                u/box_of_brains

                What?

                ⬆️ 8 ⬇️ 

r/littlegreenmen: The number one community for exposing the lies about aliens that they want you to believe in.

Big Ben “spaceship crash”

posted by u/TroubledGiraffe

Leaked photos show that the so-called “alien” body recovered from the site was actually a pig carcass (link)

⬆️ 28 ⬇️   🗨️ 11 comments

2008 Space Titanic Incident

posted by u/grandiosegirlfriend6

Could the ship have been a holographic projection? The same technology was available for civilian use 2 years later to advertise a 3D video game with a holographic meteor (article about the ad campaign). The government probably already had access to it for years.

⬆️ 34 ⬇️   🗨️ 16 comments

u/TroubledGiraffe

I bet the spaceship sightings the previous two Christmases were holograms as well. The one they “shot down” in 2006 was probably Harriet Jones trying to stage her own Falklands poll bump, and after that they decided an invasion scare every year would keep the people docile.

⬆️ 17 ⬇️

    u/grist_for_the_mill

    What about all the people who got hypnotized in 2006?

    ⬆️ 4 ⬇️

        u/TroubledGiraffe

        Microchips, innit

        ⬆️ 3 ⬇️

The UN uses “alien activity” as a cover for their “Intelligence Taskforce” to operate with impunity

posted by u/old-fashionedappendix

⬆️ 120 ⬇️   🗨️  49 comments

The absurdity of the Zygon theory

posted by u/slow_tempo

If you’ve spent any time in alien believer circles, you’ve probably seen the claims that there are millions of shapeshifting aliens called “Zygons” (🙄) living in hiding on Earth. Some people claim to know a Zygon, or even be one - but of course they can’t prove it, because they “need to stay anonymous”. The only actual evidence believers can hold up is a few grainy cell phone videos that can be easily faked. Why are people so willing to believe outlandish claims like this?

⬆️ 53 ⬇️   🗨️  18 comments

u/parcel_of_sharks

This came up on my front page. Is it supposed to be a joke or something? My neighbor Barry’s a Zygon. Good bloke.

⬆️ -12 ⬇️

[addisonstars]

"staring"

written for day 20 of december for @jegulus-microfic with the prompt "table" totaling 123 words

“James” Sirius waved a hand in front of his face. “James, James, Jamess.” He sang. 

“Huh.” He looked around, only to find all of his friends giving him odd looks. “Yeah mate?” 

Sirius glanced at the rest of the gang, then turned back to James. “What's so interesting over there at the slytherin table mate?” He shoved James' shoulder, “is there a girl or something over there that caught your eye, eh?” 

Remus laughed, “No, no, there couldn't be, he swore off girls after Lily rejected him a couple months ago, remember?” 

James swore off girls, but he didn’t swear off blokes. And there was one over there with black hair, grey eyes, a sharp smile that may have caught his eye instead. 

11 days to finish my reading goal. i can do it!! (i say as i have to read 10 books in 11 days to fill my goal of 150 HELP)

-a.s.

[thebibutterflyao3]

Day 11 - Prompt: Cauldron @jegulus-microfic

December Daily Series - 499 words

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10

“Sirius?”

“Hmm?”

Regulus tapped the window lightly to get his brother’s attention. “Is he alright?”

Sirius leaned up onto his knees from his bed and lifted his chin. A frown knitted his eyebrows together. As he studied the situation, Regulus watched James’s prone form.

Normally, when someone fell as dramatically as he had, it would be a cause for concern. However, the sheer number of times that James had lost his balance this weekend alone made him hesitate. The bloke was remarkably uncoordinated for an athlete.

“He’s fine,” Sirius decided, settling back against his pillows. “If he was hurt, Padfoot would be dancing around and barking like mad.”

Regulus hadn’t given the bear-shaped “dog” any consideration, but now that he mentioned it, the animal was sitting next to James rather calmly. In the short time he’d been around it, the dog had leapt on him a half dozen times and barked more than that. If it wasn’t so large, he wouldn’t mind giving it a pat, but it was too big to be so aggressively insistent.

“Is he always like this?”

Sirius nodded, then glanced up. “Wait, James or Padfoot?”

Regulus rolled his eyes and gestured at the window. “Your friend has spent more time on his back than upright over the last two days.”

When his brother cackled, Regulus threw a pillow at his face. “You knew what I meant, pervert.”

“Oof!” Sirius swatted the pillow away and huffed. “Considering you’re the reason he hit the ground at least twice, I’d say that’s more of a you problem.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning that he’s flustered around you. Pads likely tripped him up just now, but it’s certainly not a daily occurrence.”

Regulus watched as James finally hauled himself to his feet. Granted, he had contributed to his fall on the ice, but James’s trip into the bushes during the snowball fight seemed a bit more intentional. He accepted that the dog was a factor this time, but it was becoming a pattern.

Don’t you dare turn this into a puzzle.

He couldn’t resist a puzzle. It was a weakness that he indulged in selfishly, particularly when it was related to a fit bloke. That was his favourite kind.

“What are you up to?” Sirius asked, circling his hand in Regulus’s direction. “What’s this face?”

“I’m not making a face.”

“Mm-hmm. You’ve forgotten how well I know you. This reminds me of the face you made when you were whipping up ‘poisonous concoctions’ in your toy cauldron. You were…what? Six?”

Regulus smirked at the memory. “Four, I think. I loved that toy.”

“Never understood why mother bought it for you. She was adamantly against ‘improper toys.’”

“Uncle Cygnus and Aunt Druella,” he corrected. “I think Narcissa told them it was a chemistry set.” He shrugged as he leaned against the window frame. “Mother wouldn’t risk offending them by chucking it.”

Sirius rolled over and aimed a pointed look at him. “Right. So, why this current deviousness?”

“It’s nothing. Relax.”

“Liar.”

Liar.

Next Part>>>

[icarusredwings]

Partically inspired by @giddyaunt425

Went to the pool today and had some thoughts (because I can't escape the brain rot sooo)

What I think everyone would be doing at the

☆Incarnation and Co Pool Party☆

For regulation reasons, only those who are available are attending, including all of the past incarnations due to some sort of freak accident at UNIT that im too lazy to think of right now.

(Feel free to add what else you think these lunatics would be doing! Use the tag #Incarnation pool party)

1 is laying under an umbrella half asleep and complaining that he's going to get a sunburn if he falls asleep.

('But if Susan was here, she wouldn't let me get burnt')

2 has been given a beach ball and is honestly just happy to be playing in the water. He told 1 that he would keep an eye on him, but let's be honest - he already forgot.

(And he missed Jamie. He probably would have mentioned Atlantis.)

3 and Delgado! Master are over in the sand pit, bickering on how their sand castle should look.

(3 says it shouldn't have that many windows, Delgado disagrees, making more windows and claiming that they need the natural lighting.)

4 is in nothing but his scarf and his trunks taking a nap on one of the sun bathing chairs.

(This is probably the best sleep he's had in a long time, but... He pprroobbaallyy has a sunburn now. This is what 1 was worried about.)

So is Yana!Master, who was lucky enough to be prudish enough to only show his forearms and shins, which are now also burnt.

(Despite Donna's constant shouting about sunscreen and how 'You blokes are too pale to be out here with nothin' but your longjohns!' But he is still infact the Master. Which means, of course, denying authority)

5 is in the field portion trying to teach Dhawan! Master, Dan, and Martha how to play cricket. (but is getting visibly frustrated. Seriously- who signed him up to babysit?)

Tegan is watching 5 trying to understand Dhawan's nonsense from the sidelines, smirking.

(She signed him up to babysit)

6 has the most ridiculous looking one piece known to man, sitting on the edge of the pool at the deep end.

(He's kicking his legs in the water and cheekily splashing 7 and Mel)

Mel is on 7s arm in a frilly two-piece, giggling at the fact 7 refuses to take off his hat despite the water being up to his chest.

(He's asking Ace not to drown him, Ace responds, 'No promises, professor' and proceeds to dunk him, which gets them the whistle for roughhousing. His hat is now soaked.)

Graham is talking about processing grief with 9. (The name Grace has come up at least 30 times already.)

9 seems weary of the water. (Sometime later, he's found hugging 10 and telling him about the beach they took Rose to.)

8 is on the other side of the pool, slathered in SPF 80° with a book and regretting his seating choices. He's trying his darndest to ignore his neighbors.

(While also evesdroping each time he hears the name 'Grace')

His neighbor in question is Donna, who is already four margaritas in and keeps shouting at various things at people over the very loud party music that's playing from under her chair's radio.

(Sometimes threatening to drown a specific someone if they didn't stop terrorizing Ainley!Master, who kept hissing for getting purposly splashed)

From 'Do a flip!' Towards Simm!Master, who keeps hogging the diving board, demanding that 10 watch every single jump and challenging him to make bigger splashes than him.

(Donna told Simm that 10 needs babysat and 15 told 10 that Simm needs babysat so now they are both simultaneously babysitting each other)

To 'WOOO! Get'em!' At the game of Chicken going on between a team of 11 and 13 VS 12 and Missy.

12 is complaining that Missy is heavy and Missy accuses him of insinuating something, which in turn leads to 13 insulting 12.

(That he was 'just weak and couldn't afford the upgrade because she can carry 11 just fine'.)

14 is next to her and can't stop laughing at her shenanigans. Sometimes, he tries apologizing to 8 and Roberts! Master (who keeps covering his ears from such loud music and shouting) but, unfortunately, is SEVEN margaritas in.

(So was otherwise just as- if not more- noisy and is now attempting to dance)

S10 Saxon!Master has rolled his eyes at least a billion times by now at the others' antics (smirking at the sight of their hiddeous dancing) and keeps finishing off 14s half drank margaritas.

(You would need a drink too if you had to deal with all this bullshit)

All the way across the pool, Ruby and Yaz are gossiping about their time with the Doctor and their past incarnations. (They're heavily trying to figure out what the Masters deal is too, Seriously- why are some of them chill, some creepy, some insane and some flat out an ass? They had a list as follows;

The sensitive master: Chill + Creepy

The girl master: Chill + Insane

The grandpa master: Chill + Chill

The bitchy master: Ass + Ass

13s master: Creepy + Insane

The master with rabies: Insane + insane

The one master who apprently knows a lot about sand castles: Chill + Ass

The master that kept hissing when you splash water on him: Creepy + Ass)

15 is sat on a life gaurd tower, whistle around his neck, sonic in hand and in an orange speedo, watching everyone like a hawk so that his past selves can heal and enjoy themselves.

(Oh, and did I mention Donna confiscated everyone's Sonic's/Lazers except for 15s?)

[beeeinyourbonnet]

Covetous | Chapter 14

Pairing: Nostelle or Macelle , who is to say which (I feel like it’s obvious which)

Summary: Father Joseph MacAvoy wakes up in a library across town with no idea of how he got there. When the kind librarian doesn’t kick him out immediately, he considers that maybe there’s more to life than alcohol.

[chapter 1] [chapter 2] [chapter 3] [chapter 4] [chapter 5] [chapter 6] [chapter 7] [chapter 8] [chapter 9] [chapter 10] [chapter 11] [chapter 12] [chapter 13]

[read on ao3]

To get the church ready for mass, Belle decided she should stay the weekend. It had nothing to do with being near Nosty. 

Friday, they all went out and had breakfast for dinner, and then Belle spent the evening simultaneously teaching Nosty how to use his new phone and Joseph how to use the office computer. By the end of the night, they had managed to print a sign for the church door about sunday mass being held and program three numbers into Nosty’s phone—Belle’s, Kathryn’s, and Joseph’s. 

Belle knew Nosty had seen a smartphone—she had one, after all—but he had never used one before, and she was surprised by his unbridled delight at the camera. He took pictures of her, the church, even one of Joseph glaring at the computer screen. 

Saturday morning, Belle woke early to find Nosty’s room empty. She swallowed the urge to panic. Nosty had told her that he slept lightly, and she had seen for herself that he was more often than not awake. She headed for the kitchen to make coffee and found a pot already brewed. Joseph’s door was still closed, so it had to have been Nosty. 

After making herself a cup, she threw a jacket on over her pajamas—pants and a t-shirt for staying in the church—and headed downstairs. 

Nosty sat on a bench out front, drinking coffee and smoking a cigarette. 

“Morning,” she said, not wanting to startle him. 

Of course, Nosty was never startled. Still watching the trees across the parking lot, he raised his mug to her.

“Can I sit with you?” she asked.

He patted the spot next to him and she sat, surprised when his arm came around her to pull her closer. They both watched the squirrels darting up and down the trees, birds chirping in the early morning light. She could envision doing this with Nosty every morning, on a little front porch that was all their own.

“Do you do this every day?” she asked.

He shrugged. “I used to sit and watch when I woke up, but I never had anything nice to look at. Never had hot coffee either.”

She laced her free hand through his. Belle had never liked the morning after sleeping with another person whether it had been sexual or not, but waking up with Nosty felt as natural as waking up alone. She wanted every morning to start with Nosty holding his arm out to her, drawing her into him as they watched the world wake up around them.

“You’ll be cleaning and tidying this morning, yeah?” Nosty asked.

“I think so,” Belle said. “I don’t want Joseph to do this alone.”

He traced his thumb along her hip. “Might go out for a bit.”

In the peace of the early hour, she found no hint of suspicion in her. There had been plenty of times where she’d thought Nosty was going to wander off and he hadn’t, and he certainly hadn’t since their reunion. Maybe she trusted him a little. 

“Where to?” 

“I want to take pictures of where they broke up the camp, now I’ve got a fancy camera,” he said. “Maybe it’ll help the solicitor.”

Belle was surprised at the logic of that, though she’d be even more surprised if the police had left anything of their camp intact. “Do you want me to drive you over there?”

He barked with laughter. “Absolutely not. You stay here.”

“Why is that funny?” She frowned. “I’d stay in the car if you wanted me to.”

He drained his coffee and set the mug down, still smirking. “Aye, and what if someone saw me get in your car, hey?”

“So?”

He tapped her on the nose with his now-free finger, and his amusement was contagious, but Belle fought to hide her own smile. 

“So, say a bloke sees King Nosty, the savior, getting into a nice car with a nice bird. What about my reputation?”

“First of all,” Belle pointed to her car in the parking lot. “That is not a nice car. That is an absolutely ancient car held together by luck. Second, your reputation as King Nosty? The savior?”

“Aye, I saved them, that’s what the solicitor said, remember?” He squeezed her to him once, then stood and stretched. “Besides, wouldn’t want anyone to follow you because they see us together. Could be dangerous.”

“Your friends would do that?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Dunno. Plenty of ‘em en’t in their right mind, yeah?” He mimed a syringe at the bend of his elbow. 

“Do you want me to drive you somewhere closer, then?” 

He picked up his mug and dangled it from one finger, watching it rock back and forth. “Fine, thanks.” He spun around and pointed at her. “But do not follow me.”

“I won’t, I promise!”

Half an hour later, dropping him off by the library, she wanted nothing more than to follow him. She didn’t know if it was her conscience that stopped her or the fact that Nosty observed everything and would see her, but she did convince herself to drive back to the church with the promise of picking Nosty back up when he called her. 

It was nice that he could call her now. Instead of worrying over him, she would think of that and that alone.

****

MacAvoy spent the first part of his morning curled around the toilet, wracked with a nausea that he prayed wasn’t food poisoning. It was amazing how much worse vomiting was while sober. Drunk, it was almost a relief, but gagging over a bowl in full control of his mind was like purgatory.

“Joseph? Are you all right?” Belle called. He groaned. Of course she’d found him like this. 

“Fantastic.”

“I’ll set some water outside the door, okay?”

He grunted a response, though it was another relief when the clink of glass told him the water was there. 

After another twenty minutes of sweat, retch, and watery eyes, he thought the worst of it was done, so he brushed his teeth and staggered to the kitchen. Belle sat at the table, drinking a cup of tea and eating a scone with jam while she read the paper.

“Where’s Nosty?” he asked.

“Taking some photos.” Belle set her paper down. “Do you feel up to eating? I made scones.” 

His stomach lurched and he shook his head, making for the coffee pot instead. On his way back to the table, he grabbed a bag of digestive biscuits to nibble on, though he wished he could stomach Belle’s scones. When had she even had the time to bake? Nosty’s presence had reinvigorated her spirit when his friendship couldn’t. Of course.

“So.” Belle leaned forward, hands around her mug. “I’m all yours for the day. What do we need to do to get the church ready for mass?”

****

He’d been concerned that he would forget something, would fuck it all up trying to do the right thing with his church for the first time in years, but it was like riding a bike. The muscle memory led him and Belle all around the church, gathering materials from closets that hadn’t been opened in years. 

At some point, as he set up the altar and refreshed all the candles while Belle swept the sanctuary floor, he realized he would have to hire some staff back. Even if he didn’t have a big congregation anymore, he’d need a janitor. No one would come to services if it was dusty, and he certainly wasn’t going to ask Belle to clean every weekend.

After three solid hours, everything but Father MacAvoy himself was ready for the public. His stomach had calmed enough for him to eat, so he sat at the table with one of Belle’s scones and a cup of tea while she diced up a zucchini. 

“How are things with Nosty?” he asked. He’d assumed that Nosty would attach himself to Belle like a shadow, and so was surprised to get this chance to speak candidly. He wouldn’t waste it.

“Good, I think.” She tossed the zucchini into a frying pan with a glug of oil, right next to a pot of boiling water. “The solicitor seems to think she can at least keep him out of prison.”

“That’s good.” Did that mean that Nosty was going to live with him indefinitely? Sure, he didn’t quake in his boots at the sight of him anymore, but the only time they got along was when Belle was there to mediate. Nosty did not like him.

“I’m sorry we haven’t gotten to spend much time together,” she said. “It’s kind of shocking, I feel like we were joined at the hip while I was miserable. How are you feeling?”

She had moved to chopping a fistful of herbs, but he had no idea what kind. He’d figure it out eventually when she put food in front of him. He knew Belle liked to cook, but he’d never seen her like this. She had never been this happy.

“Better than this morning.” Part of him wanted to stand behind her and run a hand through her hair, like she was cooking for him because they were a couple. He crushed that urge. If nothing else, Nosty wouldn’t hesitate to stab him. “Nervous.”

“Well, you know I’ll be right there in the audience.” Her knife stilled. “Congregation?”

“Congregation,” he agreed. “I’ll have to write a sermon tonight.”

She scooped her pile of chopped herbs into a bowl, then plopped a lemon on the cutting board before rooting through the drawers. 

“I’ll help however I can, though I don’t know much about scripture. What do you have to zest a lemon with?”

He shook his head. “I’ve never zested a lemon.”

She scoffed, but he saw the corner of her mouth from his angle which meant she was smiling anyway as she found a potato peeler in a drawer and set to work peeling off strips of lemon rind.

“How are you and Nosty getting along in the kitchen?” She tossed two of the strips in with the zucchini before lining the rest up to mince like the herbs.

“Horribly, but we’re both eating.” 

“Horribly? What’s the problem?”

Truly, it was both of them. MacAvoy was a miserable cook and Nosty was impatient, a combination that had thus far only ended in just-edible disaster.

“Big learning curve,” he said. “Neither of us is much in the kitchen. Great scone, by the way.” 

She flashed a smile at him before adding the zest into her herb bowl, and then her phone rang. “Shit, that’s Nosty, can you grab it?” 

He didn’t want to answer Belle’s phone if Nosty was calling, but it wasn’t an unreasonable enough request to say no.

“It’s me,” he said in lieu of hello.

“Where’s Belle? You fucking putting her to work while you lounge in your fainting chair all day?”

He gritted his teeth, but Belle had in fact been working on his behalf all day. “What do you want?”

“I’m about two kilometers from the library.”

“So?”

“Can you put him on speaker?” Belle asked, scraping her zucchini into a bowl. 

MacAvoy did in time for Belle to hear, “—fucking so? I called her, not you, you useless fucking shite, what’s the point of having a mobile if—”

“Nosty, you’re on speaker!” Belle called, looking far more amused than MacAvoy felt.

“Belle, I’m about two kilometers from the library and this eejit wants me to sit and rot there.”

Amazing how Nosty could carry on at him and then somehow make him look like the eejit. 

“You’ll probably be there before us, but we’re leaving in a minute.” Belle covered her herb bowl with a wet paper towel and her zucchini bowl with a dry one, then turned off all the hobs on the stove. 

“We?” Nosty asked. “He’s coming?”

“Sounds like it,” MacAvoy muttered.

“Oi, Father, cheer up, you been moping all week about missing your library wank ti—” 

MacAvoy jammed the speakerphone button so that Belle wouldn’t hear whatever Nosty was going to say, especially since he obviously did not wank in the library, or anywhere for that matter—except for his brief indiscretion in the shower all those weeks ago, but since that was clearly the work of Satan, it didn’t count.

“We’ll be right there!” he said, voice cracking like a pubescent boy, and hung up without another word.

“Joseph, you know that I know he’s teasing you, right?” Belle asked, somehow already wearing a sweater. 

“He’s rude.” MacAvoy stood, dismayed that he’d only managed to eat half a scone. Would he ever enjoy food again?

“I know, but it’s not like I take what he says about you as gospel.” She took his elbow, guiding him out of the kitchen so he could grab his own jacket. “I’m not judging you based on what he says.”

He supposed that did make him feel better, but he didn’t quite believe her. Nosty had her wrapped around his finger—if he said it would make him happy if she jumped, she’d ask how high. It was only a matter of time before he turned her against him. Everyone else had always turned against the pathetic, drunk priest. 

****

MacAvoy was going to have to find a minute alone to confess privately about the savage pleasure he took in Nosty riding in the backseat on the way back to the church. He’d almost thought that Belle would make them switch, but either she didn’t notice Nosty’s pout or she wasn’t as wrapped around his finger as MacAvoy thought.

“Did you get what you were looking for?” she asked.

“Nah, you were right,” he said. “Nothing left.”

“What were you looking for?” MacAvoy asked.

Belle and Nosty’s eyes met in the rearview. You’re in the front seat, MacAvoy reminded himself. 

“You tell him,” Nosty said. “Did you bring me anything?”

Belle smiled, and MacAvoy felt like they were speaking another language. What had Belle even had time to bring him? They’d all but run out of the church.

“In my purse,” she said. “Nosty went to see if he could get pictures of the camp that the police destroyed, but they’d already removed all traces. Did you see any of your friends?”

“Friends?” Nosty ripped into a packet of trail mix with his teeth. Did Belle have a grocery store in her bag? “You mean my legions of devoted subjects?”

“Oh, the jury won’t like if you get a swelled head, will they?” 

Nosty grinned, tossing a handful of nuts and raisins into his mouth.

“So did you see anyone?” MacAvoy asked. 

“Sure, I saw ‘em.”

“Is that a good thing?” Belle asked. 

Nosty shrugged. MacAvoy understood—if he could have held services and known that no one who had ever seen him drink would be there, he would feel a lot less nervous. There were stakes to fucking up in public. What had Nosty said to him the first time they met? Once a fuckup, always a fuckup?

“You didn’t speak to them,” MacAvoy said. 

“No point, is there?” Nosty’s trail mix bag sat half-full in his hand, but he just stared at the window into the greying afternoon. “They all think I’m in jail. Won’t be happy to see me clean and fed and taken care of.” 

MacAvoy sat back in his seat, only vaguely aware of Belle responding. It had never occurred to him that Nosty had friends on the street, that to come with Belle meant leaving people behind. And not just leaving people behind, but leaving them in a bad spot. Perhaps Nosty felt guilty for being clean and fed and taken care of?

He watched Belle’s profile as she chatted. She was so unwaveringly kind, and her kindness had saved every man in that car. Who was he to feel bitter and resentful?

A piece of shit who’d gotten off to the idea of having to be her savior, that was who. 

Belle didn’t need saving, he did. Maybe he and Nosty had more in common than he thought.

****

Once the idea was in his head, MacAvoy could not carry on with his mass preparations without clearing the air. After sending Belle into the church’s pitiful library to find a theology text for him that he guessed he would have to reference, he cornered Nosty outside his bedroom.

“We need to talk,” he said.

Nosty folded his arms and stared down at him. They were about the same height, but somehow MacAvoy felt meters shorter than the other man.

“About what?” He spread his feet. “You here to finally admit you want Belle for yourself?”

MacAvoy swallowed. What if he did admit that? What would happen then? But no, that wasn’t what he’d come here for.

“No. I wanted to propose a truce.”

Nosty raised an eyebrow, teeth bared as usual, but MacAvoy stood his ground. Well, he took a step back, and then he stood his ground. 

“A truce?” 

“Yes.” MacAvoy nodded and his stomach roiled. Perhaps anxiety and withdrawal did not mix. “We both owe our current fortunes to Belle, so we should make an effort. For her.”

Nosty licked his lips, staring off somewhere over MacAvoy’s left shoulder. He hoped Belle wasn’t there, or she’d put together that he’d sent her off on a fool’s errand. 

“Fine,” Nosty said. “For her.” He grabbed a fistful of MacAvoy’s shirt and pulled him closer. “But if you cause her even an ounce of harm, hot sauce is gonna be the least of your worries, ken?”

MacAvoy shook with fear, but something else peeked through—what right did Nosty have to menace him? About as much right as MacAvoy had to be jealous. “Oh, because you’ve never hurt her?”

“I would never lay a finger on her.” Nosty released him, then folded his arms again. 

MacAvoy spluttered. “And you think I would?”

“Joseph, I found it!” Belle’s voice floated out to them from closer than was comfortable.

“I do not trust priests,” Nosty hissed, jabbing him in the chest once before sliding away from him. 

“Great!” MacAvoy called, hoarse. He rubbed his chest. What just happened?

****

Even though he was trying to think nicer thoughts, MacAvoy still left their conversation convinced that Nosty was going to do something to mark his territory. 

It turned out he didn’t need to because MacAvoy didn’t even have a chance to claim her time. Belle’s only concern was that MacAvoy write his sermon, so she set him at the table in the rec room with a bible, the book he’d asked her to find, her laptop, and a legal pad, then sat on the couch with a book. Nosty had joined her immediately with a book of his own. 

He tried to work on his sermon, he really did, but it was so hard when Belle and Nosty were right in front of him, sharing a blanket so he couldn’t see if their legs were tangled together, couldn’t know how often they looked up and smiled at one another unless he was watching.

Then, all at once, that wasn’t why he was watching. Belle relaxed into the couch while she read, brow furrowed in concentration, but he’d seen that before. What he hadn’t seen was Nosty, face smooth and carefree, shoulders back and head against the couch, wearing a sweatshirt for the uni that MacAvoy was pretty sure Belle attended. Relaxed. He wanted to memorize the image to draw upon it any time the bitterness threatened. 

Nosty was just a man who’d fallen on hard times, just like him. He wasn’t a monster. 

“Fucking hell.” Nosty slammed his book shut, and MacAvoy jumped, but Belle just laughed. 

“So you got to the tower?” Belle asked.

“I got to the fucking tower.” 

MacAvoy had no idea what they were talking about, but Belle was laughing and Nosty’s smile wasn’t mean at all, and for a second, he understood. He understood who Belle saw when she looked at Nosty, why his absence had destroyed her. 

What he didn’t understand, as Belle went back to her book and Nosty only pretended to while he watched her over the pages with an expression akin to reverence, was how Nosty had just thrown it all away.

“Having troubles, Father?” Nosty asked, and MacAvoy jumped. 

Belle looked up. “Do you need help?”

“Probably,” he said. “But neither of you studied theology.”

“How d’you know?” Nosty said. “Maybe I went to fucking Catholic school.”

“Did you go to Catholic school?” Belle asked before he could.

“Aye, I did, when I was seven. Foster family knew the headmaster.” 

“That was a long time ago,” MacAvoy said while Belle’s gaze drifted away. What was she thinking about? “And they don’t teach theology to seven-year-olds.”

“Why don’t you talk about getting sober?” Belle said.

MacAvoy shook his head. “I’m still too much in the thick of it. I wouldn’t know what to say.” And privately, he thought that was too good a sermon topic to waste on a service that he figured he’d be lucky to see five people attend.

“Talk about temptation,” Nosty said. “Don’t Jesus freaks live for that shite?” 

MacAvoy clenched his teeth. Was he a “Jesus freak?” “I could do that.”

“Let me know if I can help,” Belle said, but she was already turning back to her book. “I can look for quotes or read articles or just bounce ideas.”

“Yeah, thanks.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. This was going to be a long night. 

If only he could write about the way Belle’s hair kept falling into her eyes, and how, after three or four times of her moving it, Nosty shut his book and scooted to his knees so he could tuck the strands behind her ear, then brush his fingertips along her jaw.

They stared at one another, Belle’s ears reddening, and then Belle thanked him and he leaned back. MacAvoy was an intruder on this moment, but neither acknowledged him. He was just a fly on the wall, an observer in their love story. Thank god his cock didn’t twinge.

****

Belle laid in bed in her church pajamas, staring at the ceiling. Nosty’s room was just across the hall. It would be so easy to tiptoe over, to tap on his door and see if he’d been lying awake for the last hour thinking about her too.

With Joseph there as a chaperone, Belle had resisted the urge to crawl into Nosty’s lap while she read, to settle herself between his knees and be held again. Now she had no chaperone. No one would stop her except herself, and the longer she laid there, the less resolved she was to stay in her own bed.

Was it brave to go to Nosty now? Or would it be braver to deny herself?

A soft bird noise floated through the crack under the door and she frowned. What did that mean?

But when it sounded again, she leapt out of bed, biting back a grin. Opening the door revealed Nosty, just as she’d hoped. He rested a forearm on the frame and leaned in. 

“Thought about throwing pebbles at your window, but this was faster,” he said, voice low.

“I don’t think Father MacAvoy would be happy if I let you in my room so late.”

“Would you be happy?”

In response, she opened the door wide and sat on the foot of the bed. He shut it behind him so quietly, even she barely heard it. 

When Nosty sat next to her, the mattress groaned, and they both glanced at the wall that adjoined Joseph’s room. 

“You couldn’t sleep either?” Belle asked.

He shook his head. “Too loud.”

Belle’s brow furrowed. “Loud? It’s silent as a grave here. It doesn’t even feel like London to me.”

“Not outside.” He tapped his head. “Loud.”

She took his hand and squeezed. “How can I help?”

Closing his eyes, he tilted his forehead against hers. “You could let me throw you on the bed and fuck you senseless.” His grin told her he was teasing—although she was sure if she’d agreed, he wouldn’t have said no—but that didn’t stop the heat that flared between her legs.

“Nosty.”

“Bet it would be the best sex the Father’s ever had, listening to you come on the other side of his wall,” he murmured, and this time, it didn’t seem to be a joke. “By the third or fourth time, he’d probably pass out.” 

“The third or fourth?” Her body remembered how it felt last time, how spent she’d been laying in his arms. “I don’t think I could.”

He threaded his free hand through her hair and rubbed his nose against hers, so close their lips almost touched. 

“I think you could.” He didn’t kiss her, and she craved it, but she held herself still. “I’ll bet he wonders what you’d sound like.”

“Nosty, stop.” 

He didn’t pull back, but he didn’t speak again. Belle swallowed to get her breathing under control. 

“Why are you so stuck on him?”

“He’s a fucking priest.”

Belle leaned back so she could breathe. “So?”

“I hate him.” 

“I don’t think you do.” She grabbed his face in both hands, leaning further back to look at him. His jaw pulsed under her palms, and when he opened his eyes, she almost cowered. But she knew the rage wasn’t at her, and she knew he wouldn’t hurt her.

“What are you hiding from?” she asked.

“I’m not hiding from anything.” He kissed her palm. “I’m telling you how much I want you.”

“Nosty, I’m not going to sleep with you tonight,” she said. 

He squeezed his eyes shut. “Belle, please.” 

“Nosty!”

“I’m sad, all right?” He opened his eyes, and whatever fire had been there turned to anguish. “I don’t want to be in here anymore.” He tapped his head again. “Please.”

She let go of him and climbed to the head of the bed, turning the comforter down before holding her arms out to him. He crawled toward her, and once he was in her arms, she tucked them in together.

“You know, I read somewhere that holding hands can help ease the sadness.” She groped around until she found his hand, and then he clutched her fingers between his. “Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong?”

He shook his head.

“Why not?”

“Can’t you just pretend I’m sad because I want to fuck you?” he whispered into her neck.

“I will not pretend that.” 

He clung to her so tightly, she was afraid he’d hurt his injury, but she could deal with that if she had to. She stroked his scalp between his locks, then twirled one around her finger.

“You’ll be angry,” he said.

“Nosty, you can always tell me how you feel, and I promise I won’t be angry.” 

He nuzzled into her neck and mumbled something.

“What?”

“They destroyed my home.”

She swallowed. Of course. He’d gone back to his camp that morning and found nothing. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know it wasn’t much of a home. I know this one’s better. But it was mine, and they crushed it.” 

She wished she had wisdom to offer, something useful to say. All she had was the sympathy tears building behind her eyes. “It’s awful, the way they treated you.” 

“Everyone thinks it’s just fine.” He pressed his eyes to her neck. “The coppers, the doctors. They think we’re fucking rats because we don’t sleep in a bed. You know, they didn’t even save me fucking shirt at the hospital? One fucking shirt and it’s on me back, and they toss it like a rag as soon as I take it off.” 

His shoulders shook, and he somehow clutched her even tighter. 

“They don’t even see me as human. I’m just a piece of fucking sentient rubbish.”

“I know you’re human,” Belle said. “And I’ve always known.”

“I know.” He swallowed, and she tried not to laugh when his Adam’s apple tickled her chest. “I tried to call you from the hospital.”

“What?” How had she missed him? “You did?” She’d been so available to him the whole time, how could he not have reached her?

“Aye.” Somehow, he burrowed deeper into her neck. “When they said I wasn’t getting a section two, I asked them to call your library because I didn’t know your mobile. They said just because you didn’t kick me out, doesn’t mean you want to hear me whinging.”

The fury that blasted through her surprised her. She’d never felt so hot with rage that she wanted to destroy something, wanted to find that doctor and crush their neck with her bare hands.

“Fuck them,” she said. 

Nosty rumbled with laughter, and then his shoulders shook again, and then he was sobbing into her neck. The rage bled out of her as she held him, stroking his hair and rocking him.

“I’ve got you,” she whispered. “You don’t have to worry anymore, Nosty. I’m here.” 

She didn’t know how long he cried, but she didn’t let go, and it wasn’t until he settled that she wiped the tears from her own eyes.

Nosty loosened his grip on her and pushed himself up. “Can I sleep here?”

“I thought that was a given,” she said. 

“Good. I want to hold you now.” 

“You don’t want to be held, just this once?” she asked. She felt bad that she was always the one who got to feel strong arms around her. She wanted him to get to be the little spoon.

“Nah.” He pulled away enough for her to shift comfortably onto her pillows, then wrapped himself around her. “I like knowing I have something worth protecting other than meself.” 

She bit her lip, wanting to turn around and kiss him, but settled for resting her hands on his.

“I’ll protect you too,” she said. “No one will ever treat you badly again if I’m there.”

He kissed the back of her head. “And I’ll shank anyone who lays a finger on you.”

She snorted. “A perfect team.”

“Aye. Perfect.”

She tried to stay awake until she knew Nosty had fallen asleep, but as usual, it was hard to keep her eyes open whilst being so tenderly cradled in his arms, and she fell asleep without another thought about the insomnia from earlier.

[rainesol]

Tagged by @tixdixl :D feel free to do it too :3

1: Are you named after anyone?

Nope! My parents chose randomly :))

2: When was the last time you cried?

Today. Coursework is kicking my ass </3

3: Do you have kids?

No. I’m on the aroace spectrum and I’m a full time student (19) with a budget to match lol

4: What sports do you play/have you played?

I used to do a few sports as a kid, but I’ve always been a little frail so I had to drop them. Keeping on top of all of the animals I work with is enough.

5: Do you use sarcasm?

Yeah. I’ve got a very naturally deadpan voice soo I keep it to a minimum.

6: What is the first thing you notice about people?

Voice? I don’t look at peoples faces if I’ve just met them.

7: What’s your eye colour?

Dark blue.

8: Scary movies or happy endings?

Uhh. Depends. Happy endings usually. I saw The Boy and The Heron a couple months ago. Very good 👍

9: Any talents?

I’m decent at writing. I have an extreme talent for making horses hate me. I don’t even need to do anything I just have poor horse vibes.

10: Where were you born?

Kernow babyy

11: What are your hobbies?

Writing, a little dnd. Sometimes I chill with the birds.

12: Do you have any pets?

My asshole snake Aster (lovingly dubbed Asda by friends) Sucks leaving her at home for school </3

13: How tall are you?

Like 5’3?

14: Favourite subject in school?

Uhhh maybe aquatics. General fishness.

15: Dream job?

I used to work in a rescue, which was nice. Maybe somewhere like a wildlife centre? Or something to do with education. I’d like to be the bloke who turns up to primary schools with a big lizard lol

[aminocamino]

Day 6 - Uterga to Cirauqui 20.8km and 293m ascent

Today was meant to be a short day until I suggested we do a detour to the church of Eunate. It was a beautiful church in the middle of nowhere but our lovely short 10 miler ended up being a 13 miler. Weather gradually rose to 20 degrees by mid day. First part beautiful open scenery but after Obanas not so good - uphill almost all the way to Maneru.

The lovely church of Santa Maria Eunate. We got there and it was 4 minutes to opening time. We were lucky - one pilgrim had been waiting at least half an hour and a coach load arrived after us. It was worth the detour for the silence of just two of us alone.

The church of the Crucifixion in Puente la Rena was stunning as was the town. We had walked 8 miles without find a cafe open but this town saved us! We ate at the Hotel Rural Bidean and four coffees and two frittatas came to 11 euros. Beautiful hotel.

The famous beautiful medieval bridge at Puente de la Reina.

The few miles between Puente de la Reina and Cirauqui were tortuous so the sight of Ciraqui was so welcome! The approach is stunning other than a bland terrace of housing stuck right in front of the view.

Closer view - note the terrace…

The village is stunning - narrow lanes with very old houses. The photo above is of the cellar dining room in our Albergue (Maralolotx). Lots of blokes here which is so different from all the Albergues we have been to.

[idabbleincrazy]

Spike's Meme

Prompted over on LJ on the Nekkid_Spike comm. Did one for Spike, and one for Angel....

Spike:

1. Who is your biggest celebrity crush?

That bloke on Bones, David something…Christ, there's a shag I'm sure I'd never forget.

2. Name 3 things you've done that your parents would disapprove of.

Had sex outside of marriage, lots of it. Murdered, again, lots. And, I'm sure they'd have disapproved of my letting myself get turned into a bloodsucking demon.

3. Who is the one person who can always make you smile?

Fred. Sweet bird always knows how to cheer me up. Pure soul, that one.

4. What is your biggest fear?

Christ, you better not let Angel see this, or someone's gettin' their guts ripped out. I'm afraid of being alone, alright? Never could stand being on me own.

5. What is your favorite love song? And your favorite break-up song?

Oh, c'mon who wrote this poofy crap? Fine…A Thousand Years by Christina Perri, and Cryin' by Aerosmith. If Angel finds out about this, heads will roll.

6. What talent do you have that you think people would be surprised about?

Well, see, there's this thing I can do with my tongue…

7. What 3 things would you take to a desert island?

My smokes, a crateful of liquor, and a Keats book. 'Course, I'll be dead once the sun comes up, so…

8. What unpopular opinion do you hold?

Angel is not the golden boy everyone thinks he is. The demon's still there, it's just on a leash.

9. Have you ever called someone the wrong name during sex?

Whatever Harmony told you is a lie.

10. What are your feelings on clowns?

Look, don't know as how clowns are today, but when I was human, they always seemed like creepy pervs.

11. Is there something that you've always wanted to tell someone but been too scared to?

Yes, but I ain't tellin' you. I'll tell him her when he's she's ready to hear it.

12. Have you ever kissed someone that you really shouldn't have?

That first kiss with Harmony opened a whole can of worms. Oh, and probably shouldn't have kissed Xander that once, but the whelp was so bloody depressed, looking like a kicked puppy. It was reflexive. Donut boy didn't seem to mind too much, though.

13. What word or phrase do you absolutely dread hearing?

Gettin' real tired of the words 'get out'. One of these days I'll listen, and then he'll be sorry.

14. Have you ever been caught having sex?

Please, I lived with Angelus for nigh on two decades. Think the bloke got off on being caught out.

15. Finally, what makes you totally awesome?

Hello? Everything. It's me we're talking about here.

~~~~

Angel:

1. Who is your biggest celebrity crush?

Hedi Lamar. She's a vengeance demon now, did you know?

2. Name 3 things you've done that your parents would disapprove of.

If you asked my father, everything I've ever done is worthy of disapproval.

3. Who is the one person who can always make you smile?

I know who you're expecting me to say, and maybe that was true once, but the bloom is a bit off the rose these days. For Angelus, it was William. For me, it's Spike. He may irritate me to no end, but he knows how to get to me like no one else can. He's the only one who can pull me out of my funk anymore.

4. What is your biggest fear?

Losing my soul. If I did, I'd lose so much more along with it.

5. What is your favorite love song? And your favorite break-up song?

Ready to Take a Chance Again by Barry Manilow, and Mandy by Barry Manilow. Spike's not gonna see this, right?

6. What talent do you have that you think people would be surprised about?

Look, I might be shit at modern dance, but you don't spend over a century rubbing elbows with the snobby elite of Europe without knowing how to waltz.

7. What 3 things would you take to a desert island?

I'm a vampire. It doesn't matter what I bring to a desert island if I'm just going to end up as dust because there's no shade from the sun.

8. What unpopular opinion do you hold?

A soul doesn't stop you from being evil. It's a conscious choice you make every day of your life.

9. Have you ever called someone the wrong name during sex?

Uh, yeah…Darla wasn't very pleased about it either.

10. What are your feelings on clowns?

I think most of them are actually demons under all that makeup.

11. Is there something that you've always wanted to tell someone but been too scared to?

Yeah. I don't have to tell you though, do I? I really think he should hear it face to face.

12. Have you ever kissed someone that you really shouldn't have?

I suppose if I had only kissed people I should've kissed, none of this ever would have happened to me. I know I definitely shouldn't have kissed Sean O'Donoghue's fiancé. Or the butcher's daughter. Or half the population of Galway.

13. What word or phrase do you absolutely dread hearing?

Peaches.

14. Have you ever been caught having sex?

Heh. Next question, please.

15. Finally, what makes you totally awesome?

I mean, I don't know that I am, really. I try to be the best version of myself that I can be, but is that enough??

~~~~

@leatafandom

[thalialunacy]

[for the @calaisreno May Prompt Boogaloo, just a wee one today bc tomorrow's is a beast 😈]

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) 7: calm (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20) (21) (22) (23) (24) (25) (26) (27) (28) (29) (30) (31)

The snow turns to rain about seven minutes after John steps into the clinic, but the Snow Day attitude has already taken hold-- A large number of appointments have been cancelled, and everyone's acting pleasantly restless. Anticipatory.

Everyone except John.

Which is odd, he thinks as he sits at a table in the canteen, aggressively ignoring a cup of tea while casual conversation flows around him. Because he's got the most to anticipate.

He'd had a bit of a think on the train in. Normally he'd read or check social media (meaning: normally he'd be that middle-aged man who falls asleep sitting up) but today, something about the snow had made him contemplative.

Because: John is not a bloke who holds back, statistically speaking. He's been good at sex for a few decades, good at romance for perhaps a decade less than that, and though he's made some rather poor choices in the last few years he likes to think he's still worth a go.

So why is he baulking? Why is he letting them be stuck in this holding pattern?

Well, listen, he's not a Holmes; he doesn't enjoy (over)thinking all possibilities until he's clicked together the situation like a Rubix cube in his head. So by the time his tea has gone cold and the canteen walls have started to close in on him, he's made a decision.

Does he have a plan? Not really. Is he going to let that stop him? Absolutely not.

The rain comes down rather insistently on his trip home hours later, and it obviously has finally soaked through the general good cheer of earlier in the day. But John feels clear and ready. Soon, he knows, adrenaline and fear will stitch him up good and proper, but for now, he's got peace. The calm before the storm.

[❤️]

[himebushou]

Suwa Shigeki's Lieutenants?

Based on the Buddy Daddies opening, I feel like some more significant hitmen/villains are due to be introduced.

Several characters run across the Buddy Daddies title screen: Miri, Rei, Kazuki, Carol and Dorothy — and then, these three guys. We can see that two of the men are armed while one doesn't appear to be holding a gun:

Now, they could just be three goons who have nothing to do with anything. Perhaps our unarmed friend could be some detective type trying to restore law and order.

However! We soon see Suwa Shigeki flanked by...

Three men.

It appears as though all three of the men are Suwa Shigeki's supporters. Interestingly, though, none of the men seem to be Ogino. You would think that, given Ogino's importance to the storyline, as well as his menacing presence, he'd perhaps have a more significant role in the opening.

This suggests that Ogino isn't one of the final villains at all and is going to die very, very soon — perhaps in Episode 10 or 11. Right now, there are a few candidates who could take him out. Rei is the obvious choice, followed by Kazuki and then Kyuutarou.

Then, there's another question.

Who, pray tell, is this bloke?

At first, I thought that he may be one of the men from Episode 2; after all, we do see references to some of Rei and Kazuki's kills in the opening —

However:

That's our suited friend in the middle again, right? There's simply no way that he would have been given screentime alongside Kazuki, Rei and Taiga if he was just some random soul. It makes zero sense!

So, looking back at this image:

I think he may be the second man holding a gun — we can see the same grey suit and dark hair.

I'm excited to find out what role he'll play in the story!

[solarsonicsoda]

Rebbie's Wrestling Show Reviews - RevPro: Live in Southampton 29 (1/4/2024)

April Fool’s Day, Bank Holiday Monday, and RevPro Live in Southampton 29! It was a big day on 1st April 2024. Me and my dad made our way down to The 1865 for an evening of wrestling greatness just 24 hours after Revolution Rumble 2024, where Luke Jacobs would win the titular match! Before the show, we perused the merch tables which had quite a lot to choose from! I ended up picking up a signed print from the Grizzled Young Veterans. I’m a big fan of GYV, as well as a fellow Liverpool FC fan, so I simply had to. Shook their hands and they recognised us from roughly 30 minutes before when we had both been in the same Forbidden Planet shop looking around. My dad actually had to point them out to me after I walked straight past them somehow. I was also able to get a photo with them, which was awesome. Lovely blokes! We then stood back and got ready for the show.

As Francesca kicked things off, David Francisco got on the mic to express his frustrations. He’s sick and tired of being a Contender, essentially a trainee of RevPro, a position he has held for well over 2 years. He takes off his Contenders shirt, revealing his Chaotic Neutral tee, and says he’s stepping away from being a Contender whether management likes it or not. The crowd are absolutely chuffed to hear this, and he gets a great reaction. As he storms out, he runs into the Contender he beat for a spot in the Rumble, Joshua James.

Gabe Kidd def. Joshua James in 10:14

Fun smacking scrap, with a whole lot of chanting to start. Great sport for Josh James! This one had lots of wild chops and slaps, and was a pretty good slugfest! Kidd gets the win after a good showing by James, the big man being put away by a Kidd piledriver. It would take “War Ready” two attempts though, with his knee buckling on the first. Kidd won, but James was the one who left under his own power, and Kidd appeared to respect him for his effort.

3.5 STARS OUT OF 5

Oskar Leube vs. Mike D Vecchio ended in a double countout in 9:55

Absolutely wild big man clash from two monsters! Leube is a exciting big man and Vecchio impressed me greatly in my first exposure to him. The “Belgian War Machine” is absolutely massive, his shoulders are about as wide as he is tall, and the things he does despite such a superstar look were incredible. The speed with which both men hit the ropes was insane, and Vecchio hit flips and the like it was nothing. All his offense was off the chain, leaping halfway across the ring and chopping like he wanted to go through Leube. Despite a small slow period in the middle, this one was electric and it’s a shame it ended how it did. Both men obliged the fans though and kept fighting until RevPro officials tore them apart. I want to see these two go at it again.

3.5 STARS OUT OF 5

Robbie X def. Aigle Blanc in 15:56

Cruiserweight clash! This one took a small amount of time to grow on me, but by the end this one was an awesome time. Just two great high-flyers giving it their all for the Southampton faithful. It was frenetic, it was fast, and it was a good time for all. A Canadian Destroyer followed by an X-Clamation get the win for Robbie X.

3.5 STARS OUT OF 5

Luke Jacobs def. Shigehiro Irie in 13:12

One more match before the break and it’s a big one! The number one contender to the Undisputed British Heavyweight Championship takes on “Beast Mode”. This one didn’t quite live up to my loftiest of hopes, but it was a pretty good big man clash in the end. Lots of meaty chops, big power moves, and even a stark reminder from Irie to “never give up”! We were sure to “Get Shiggy with it” as we chanted, but Jacobs would get the win in the end by making Irie tap-out to the crossface. I guess sometimes you need to give up…

3.5 STARS OUT OF 5

With that, it was time for intermission. We took this one easy and eagerly awaited the second half.

Anthony Ogogo def. Sha Samuels in 11:17

The Guv’nor is here whether we like it or not to take on the East End Bookie. This was a decent match of beloved babyface against hated heel, but it all came to an end when Ogogo hit that devastating right hand. Bosh.

3 STARS OUT OF 5

Ogogo got on the mic here to berate the crowd and laud over us all his accomplishments in RevPro, such as defeating RKJ and Samuels, as well as eliminating Oku from the Rumble. He wants the RevPro Undisputed British Heavyweight Championship, and tells Oku and his “Irish slag” Amira to listen up and give him the match. That’s not very nice. But Oku’s not at home! Here comes the champ, and he tells Ogogo to watch his mouth, reminding him that the last time he made a feud about nationality, he “accidentally made Cody Rhodes solve racism”. Huge pop for that one! Oku says if he wants a match he has it, and that they can do it right now. They brawl in the ring but a right hand knocks Oku out cold. Could the champion be in trouble?

Grizzled Young Veterans (Zack Gibson & James Drake) (c) def. Sunshine Machine (Chuck Mambo & TK Cooper) for the RevPro Undisputed British Tag Team Championships in 16:49

The new champs are here to take on the ever-popular Sunshine Machine! Some words are exchanged and once we made an acceptable amount of noise, the GYV decided to oblige us all and put the titles on the line! This was a good fun tag clash between two of the UK’s best teams. Mambo’s mastery of the ropes was on full display, as was the lethal speed of Drake and his flying dropkicks. It’s back and forth, with both teams looking to be victorious on occasions until Mambo is planted with a Doomsday Device and a double Ticket to Ride facebreaker for the win. Grit your teeth.

3.5 STARS OUT OF 5

Post match, GYV offer a handshake which a frustrated Sunshine Machine weakly accept. They aren’t happy. Francesca heads into the ring to ask them what’s next for them. Mambo is still pretty out of it, so TK Cooper gives his answer. He sarcastically thanks Francesca for rubbing it in with her question, saying he hasn’t seen her do this anywhere else on the show. Another big pop in the promos here, we loved that. Cooper says they never win in Southampton (they have technically won 2 out of 7 here but shhhhh, one was an elimination 8-man tag though). He concludes they need to go back to the drawing board somewhat, and they take their leave.

Josh Alexander def. JJ Gale in 18:31

It’s the hometown boy versus the international star from Canada. Loud chants of “He’s one of our own” to kick things off. This was a pretty good clash between two top draw wrestlers. Gale gave his absolute all to put away the more experienced Alexander, hitting multiple dives and a whole bunch of his signature offense, but he’s never able to connect with that Gale Force. Alexander himself dishes out all sorts of punishment like rolling German suplexes, an ankle lock, and a powerbomb onto the knee, but Gale weathered through it all. When the straps come down and that brutal C4 Spike is hit by Alexander though, that’s all she wrote for Gale. 

3.5 STARS OUT OF 5

Final Thoughts After JJ Gale takes his moment main-eventing in his hometown, Francesca is here to say goodbye. We all join in to help along with the website name as the show comes to an end! Overall, it was a pretty fun show with some solid storyline advancement, and it maybe just needed a truly great match to reach the top tiers! Lovely stuff! I think for me this one has to be 3.5 STARS OUT OF 5 for me