#I showed my sister this and she said the pose looks like he’s dancing

[breathofthewildyaverage]

Have another Hyrule

I drew Wild in a dress so it’s only fair I draw the Fairy Gremlin in one too

[whimsicalpolitical]

Family bonfire // Matty Healy x Reader

a/n: send me more requests, I love nothing more :) also I know it’s getting warmer and summer feeling but this gave me an autumn vibe.

summary: Matty and you spend some days with your family in your childhood house. Not only the fire gets hot in the evening ;)

content warning: 18+ smut, fingering,idiots totally in love, unprotected sex

based on this request

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As the sun dips below the horizon, casting a golden hue over the kitchen, you stand alongside your mum and sister, watching through the window as Matty and your dad work tirelessly to prepare the bonfire.

Your two brothers are running around the pile of logs, doing anything else besides helping both.

Every time Matty comes back with wood, he searches for your gaze in the window and every time he can catch a glance, he does.

You’re doing the dishes with your mum, while your sister is just sipping her green tea. You try to suppress a little giggle when Matty tries to wipe away the sweat with the sleeves of his brown cute lumberjack jacket.

Your mum glances at you, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "He's a good one, isn't he?" she remarks, her voice soft with affection.

You nod, your heart swelling with pride as you watch Matty and your dad laughing over something. “He really is,” you agree, a smile spreading across your face.

Your sister chimes in, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “And look at them bonding over chopping wood,” she teases, nudging you playfully.

“Dad wasn’t this open when I brought my boyfriend home,” she states. Your sister is only two years younger than you but she’s with her boyfriend for 5 years now. When she brought him home, your dad was skeptical if he would be the one.

With Matty it was different. It’s only the second time you’re together at your home and your dad seems to really like him. He hasn’t said any judgmental comments or asked him thousands of questions, which is always a good sign.

“That’s probably because he realized that the both of you have made great decisions.” You laughed because it’s definitely not the truth. Your dad just found it easier with Matty.

Together, you watch as Matty and your dad continue their work until the logs are stacked up perfectly. “Finally, come and help me get the chairs out,” your mum says to your sister. She takes the last sip of her tea and hands the cup to you.

Both leave the room and only seconds later Matty comes in, pulling the gloves off his hands, laying them on the table. “Hey lumberjack,” you giggle.

“Lumberjack? More like fucking legend,” he jokes, lifting his arms to show his biceps, walking towards you. “Had fun out there, especially with you watching me like a stalker.”

His hands find your waist, the coldness of his finders radiating to your body. You smack his chest at his comment, rolling your eyes in mock exasperation. "Please, you were practically posing out there," you retort, a teasing glint in your eye.

Matty tries to act offended, placing a hand over his heart. "I'll have you know, I take my wood-chopping very seriously," he declares, his tone overly dramatic.

You just laugh and get yourself a small kiss from his lips, humming as you pull away again.

As Matty's hands rest gently on your waist, you feel a shiver of anticipation run down your spine. His touch both comforting and electrifying, his fingers tracing gentle patterns along your sides, sending tingles of pleasure dancing across your skin. “Should we join them?” He asks, nodding towards the laughing people outside.

“In one minute,” you argue, wrapping your hands around his back, hugging him.

Matty chuckles, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your lower back. "clingy much?" he teases, his voice playful.

You leaned back slightly, meeting his gaze with a playful grin. "Can you blame me?" You reply, your tone light but sincere.

His lips curl into a fond smile, his eyes softening as he looks at you. "Not at all," he admits, leaning in to press a sweet kiss to your forehead.

You keep your head resting on his chest, meanwhile Matty watches as your dad tries to light the fire, the wind being a huge obstacle. “As much as I’m enjoying this, think we have to join your family.”

You groan as he removes his body from yours, kissing your cheek one more time to try to make this separation easier. He intertwines your fingers, walking outside the kitchen to join the others in the backyard.

“Matty,” your dad tells, “mind helping me light the fire?” He’s kneeling with a lighter and some tinder, to light the fire.

“Of course not,” you watch as Matty walks over to your dad, kneeling as well, holding his hands in front of the tinder, to keep the wind away.

Your other sister walks towards you with her boyfriends arms around her. In her hands, it’s Matty’s acoustic guitar. You look at her, lifting your eyebrows questioningly.

“Mum wants Matty to sing for us later,” she laughs, knowing it’s a bit awkward, “here.” She hands you the guitar, the material almost slipping through your hand. You lay it down gently against the wall, walking towards the chairs around the fire.

-

It’s 8pm when you’re all sitting around the fire, hands reaching out to the heat, trying to ignore the cold wind through your hair.

You pulled your chair right next to Matty’s so you can nuzzle into his comfortable jacket. “I can give you the jacket y’know?” He chuckles, his arm around your shoulder rubbing soothing circles into your arm.

You feel a warmth spreading through you, both from the jacket and the comforting presence of Matty beside you. "Nah, I like being close to you," you say, leaning into his touch.

Matty's smile widens, and he squeezes your shoulder gently. "Fair enough.”

Everyone’s busy talking, your mother discussing something with your sister, in their own world.

The fire lights up Matty’s face, his brown eyes glowing in the darkness.

You rest your head on Matty’s shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne mingled with the smoky aroma of the fire. "You know," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, "my mum really likes you."

Matty pulls back slightly, a surprised smile spreading across his face. "She does?" he asks, his eyes bright with curiosity.

You nod, a fondness shining in your eyes. "Yeah, she said you're the right one," you admit, feeling a surge of warmth at the memory of her mum's words.

Matty's smile widens, a hint of emotion tugging at the corners of his lips. "Well, I'm glad to hear that," he replies, his voice soft with sincerity. "Because I think her daughter’s the one for me”

Your heart swells at his words, his head leaning down to give you a soft peck which follows by gagging sounds of your 13 year old brother. You just flip him off, making Matty giggle.

Some time passed, the crackling of the bonfire filling the night air, casting a warm glow over the gathered family. Blankets are draped over shoulders, laughter echoe in the darkness, and the scent of roasting marshmallows mingle with the crisp autumn breeze. It is a scene straight out of a storybook, where time seems to stand still and worries melted away in the flickering light.

After your mums request, Matty sits on a weathered log, his acoustic guitar resting comfortably in his hands. His fingers dance effortlessly over the strings, producing melodies that seemed to weave themselves into the fabric of the night. His voice, rich and soulful, filling the air as he sings ‘be my mistake’, each note carrying the weight of emotion.

You feel a lump form in your throat as you listen to the haunting beauty of Matty's voice. The vulnerability in his tone sending shivers down your spine, and you can’t help but be moved by the raw honesty of his performance.

Some times when you’re asleep Matty sits down next to you, to sing to you. Most of the times, it’s be my mistake and it’s definitely one of your favorites.

“He's incredible," your sister murmured in your ear.

“Truly talented," you agree, nodding in appreciation.

And when the song comes to an end, the silence that followed is filled with whispers of awe and admiration.

You lean in close to Matty, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. "You were amazing," you whisper, your voice filled with love and pride.

Matty smiles, his eyes shining with gratitude. "Thanks, love," he replies, his voice barely audible over the crackle of the fire. "I'm just glad I could share it with all of you."

It’s already pretty late, your brother’s the first ones having to go to bed and you can’t wait to finally leave as well.

As the warmth of the bonfire envelope you, Matty can’t help but notice how close you are every second. He leans in, a playful smirk playing on his lips. "You're awfully cuddly today," he remarks, his voice low and teasing.

His hand finds your thigh, squeezing it slightly, his touch driving you insane. You shudder and give him a look. “Matty,“ you mutter, trying to free your thigh from his grip but he’s very persistent.

You let your eyes trace over his profile; the strong, curved line of his nose, dark stubble that’s flecked with a little grey. He thinks it makes him look distinguished. He catches you watching him out of the corner of his eye and squeezes your thigh again, kneading the flesh there.

You shift in the seat, open your legs wider, encouraging him to move higher. You think about pressing your lips against the juncture of his throat, inching your own hand over the front of his jeans, wondering if he’s already half hard. “In front of your family?” He tuts, “you know better.”

You look around, making sure no one is aware of the scene, when you lean in, whispering in his ear. “Take me inside,” you lean back, watching his eyes go dark before whispering a quiet ‘please.’

You bite your lip, almost letting out a whine when his hands leaves your thigh, to run it through is curls. “Fucks sake,” he mutters, “you were the one telling me I need to behave, and what now?”

It’s true. Before you left the car you told him he cannot hit on you in front of your family and he didn’t but it’s slowly driving you crazy, missing his touch.

He turns his head away from you when your sister’s boyfriend starts talking to him about tour. It is the subtle tension in his demeanor, the vein pulsating on his neck as he speaks, that draws your attention.

With a sudden impulse, you reach out and gently take Matty's hand, guiding it to rest on your thigh beneath the cover of darkness. His fingers tighten around yours, a silent acknowledgment passing between you as his gaze briefly meet yours, a spark of understanding flickering in the depths of his eyes.

“Behave,” he whispers, when your brother isn’t looking, too busy searching for his phone. You just stick your tongue at him, making him roll his eyes.

You fake a yawn, followed by you standing up, grabbing Matty’s hand, forcing him to stand up. “I think we’ll head to bed.” Matty glares at you, shaking his head in disbelief, a smile never leaving his mouth though. You thank your parents for everything and say your goodnight when you finally make your way into the house.

“You’re unbelievable you know that?” He says, following you into your room. The second the door is closed, you press him against the door, crashing your lips onto his. You don’t let him say anything else while you get rid of his jacket and his shirt under, tracing your hands all over his chest.

“Christ,” he groans, feeling your hands squeeze his bulge, “what’s gotten into you?”

You lead him to the bed but as fast as you’re on top of him the faster he has you on your back. “Are you out of your mind?” You bite down on his shoulder, “baby-“ he groans, pushing your head away from him. “C’mon, you know these walls are thin.”

You groan, knowing he’s right and you definitely don’t want an essay from your parents about how you should act. “Then be quiet, it’s not my fault you decided to touch my thigh and give me ‘fuck me’ eyes.” You roll your eyes dramatically.

“Fu- darling, can’t even look at you anymore without you getting all hot and bothered?” He smirks, “besides, we both know you can’t be quiet.”

“But I can,” it doesn’t come out as convincing as you wanted it too and Matty just raises his eyebrows, “c’mon just try okay? And when I’m not quiet we can stop.”

You place a hand on Matty’s chest. It’s crazy, but you can feel his heart pounding; the heavy rise and fall of his breath. He looks at you for a second, his lips on yours again. His hands finding your zipper and button of your jeans, opening them. He removes himself from you, pulling your pants down in one swift movement, then your panties.

His lips scrape against yours, parting so you can slip your tongue inside. Your lungs have left your body, leaving a hollow space in your chest, making it impossible for you to breathe. You feel lightheaded. But oh, the way he’s biting at your lips; tangling a hand in your hair and pressing against you. His leg is between your thighs and you practically melt on it, trying to grind on it, but he holds you down.

“Where did your patience go huh?” Your legs open to wrap around his waist. Matty groans, wanting to feel friction as well, grinding into your core one time.

He brings a finger to his lips; fixes you with a gaze that shows he’s serious. Be quiet. “I love nothing more than hearing you moan for me, not tonight love, be quiet okay?” You nod and gives you a kiss for your understanding.

You throw your head back and close your eyes. If you look at him for another second, you’re not going to be able to stop yourself from moaning. Even with the simplest gestures, he drives you crazy. You feel Matty reach his hand down between your legs. “Fuck,” you whisper.

Two seconds in and he has you gasping for breath. If you were wet before, you’re positively dripping now. You dare to crack open your eyes. Matty’s face is stoic with concentration, fixating on you, trying to make you stay quiet, and you can’t believe how incredibly turned on it makes you. He bites his lip slightly, and you think you might pass out. Looking was a mistake, but you can’t tear your eyes off him.

“What am I gonna do with you?” His thumb is rubbing your clit, while his fingers pump in and out of you, leaving you gasping, suppressing your moans, “you’re dirty, can’t even stay a few days without me having to make you cum.”

You ride his fingers until you forget your own name, and you already feel the coil tightening inside you. You grab Matty’s shoulders, pulling him to lean down over you. He kisses you. Rough and sloppy and frantic. You let out the smallest whimper into his mouth as you cum, hard, clamping your legs around his fingers.  “Didn’t know you can fucking listen,” his words are mean, teasing but his kisses say otherwise, praising you for being good.

“You’d do anything to cum,” he gets up, undressing his pants and getting rid of his boxers, only to be on top of you after only seconds, “can stay quiet again right? Can show me how good you can be?”

He puts a hand on your waist to steady you, and you feel him line up with your entrance. It takes everything not to scream as he slides into you. “Shh, love, you were a fucking beg, now take it.”

The stretch is intoxicating. You haven’t even recovered from your orgasm, but just the sight of him pausing after he’s buried inside of you, needing to collect himself, breathing hard. It’s enough to make you ache. “Please Matty.”

Matty is fucking into you, careful at first to stay quiet, but getting sloppier every second. He can’t pull out all the way for fear of slapping too loudly against your thighs, but the result is an incredible friction that has you soaring. You grab at his shoulders, his neck, and Matty lets you. When the pleasure has you tear open your eyes, you catch him watching you again. Enjoying the way you fall apart on his cock. It makes you clench around him even harder, and you catch the faintest whisper of a curse fall out of his lips as he leans forward, dropping his head to the crook of your neck. “Fuck,” you half whisper, half moan.

His eyes shoot up, ready to punish you if you are loud again. “Fuck, fuck,” you whisper into his ear.

“You have a filthy mouth,” you moan at his statement, not being able to hold it in anymore and the second another moan threading to leave your mouth, a hand is slapped over your mouth, the side of it slotting just under your teeth. Your heart pounds as Matty leans in to whisper to you again. “Bite down if you need to, don’t make another fucking sound.”

He continues to thrust inside of you, his body somehow lowering to get even closer to yours. When he has gotten sufficiently near, he presses a kiss to the side of your mouth—now stuffed with his hand and leaking spit—and mutters something about how good you are for him, how nicely you fit around his cock.

Then he tilts his hips and proceeds to pound you into the bed like an animal in heat. Your ankles lock behind his back, and his nose settles next to yours, breathing hard.

He couldn’t be more in awe seeing you veer close to the edge, again. “C’mon, cum for me.”

Then, he doesn’t sink so much as simply collapse on top of you while you both kicked back and let the waves of ecstasy roll over you. You adore his warmth in spite of the heat practically suffocating you both in that car. Matty scrunches his nose up, ripping his hand out of your mouth, a bite mark very visible and some blood dripping down.

“Fuck, sorry,” you apologize, taking his hand, gazing at the wound you created. “Don’t be, did what I told you to.”

You reach for a tissue and try to clean his hand, Matty hissing every second the fabric touches his hand. “You’re a fucking bear with those teeth.”

You giggle, the sound is replaced by a whine when Matty pulls out of you. “Told you I can stay quiet,” you wink, pulling him in for a kiss.”

“We can be very lucky if no one gives us shit tomorrow,” it’s not regret in his voice but more like a thrilling sound. He loved the secret.

“Mhm, very lucky,” your sentence has a double meaning and Matty understands it immediately, laughing before grabbing his shirt, pulling it over your head.

“Your mind is in the fucking gutter love,” he walks to the drawer to but on a pair of boxers before picking you up. “Use the bathroom, I’ll be waiting.” You smile and waddle over to the bathroom, your legs still shaking and Matty watching you with a goofy grin on his face.

[tarotphil]

titronto recap!! spoilers below the cut !!

before I get into I just want send the biggest good vibes to all of the Americans out there, and also everyone else feeling really discouraged about the election. ily, take care of yourselves <3

- we all did the hot to go dance together during the pre show playlist

- everyone dressed so to theme it was so crazy seeing the streets of toronto filled up with phannies it was lovely

- dan started the show by saying he was glad they were in Canada instead of America that night :,))

- phil said he was gonna be extra annoying bc he had 3 birthday cake flavoured timbits before the show

- someone threw a trans flag down from a balcony at one point it was so good

- phil accidentally slipped up and called us “phersons” at one point and they both laughed about it. we are phersons thank you 🫶

- our random talking point was “moose” but the boys weren’t sure if we actually said “goose” so the topic was “meese”

- lawyer dan wrote erotica about tim bits. at some point whoever was typing backstage changed that answer to “phim phits”

- when giving the traits of real Phil, the audience was obviously made up of Phillies and we were just clapping for him until the card that said “loves capitalism” and then it went a little silent and people started doing this 👎👎 and dan was like. “we got him boys. we got him”

- we ended up killing real dan and linguist phil

- dan verbally called out someone videoing or taking photos with their phone fhsj

- idk if he does this every show but dan said “I’m just a girl’ at one point and me and my friend went crazy

- while they were boxing and doing their trash talk and dan was like “scared?” And phil said “just scared of my life without you after I kill you” Iris and I were both like. 🫢🫢 so what do you mean by that

- stage manager cleaning up the boxing while they monologue. hey 🫶🫶 you are my hero 🫶🫶

general thoughts!!! phil is so beautiful. He is so so beautiful. every time he looked up at us me and Iris felt a little faint. dan and is also gorgeous oh my god. he’s also so kinetic and he moves around doing weird poses the whole time

their chemistry is so good!! like the comedic timing and the way they play off each other. all of it sounded very natural, I couldn’t really tell what was improv or scripted for a lot of the show

when sister daniel came out iris and i lost capability to speak. like wdym. she is so beautiful in person

@aterribleinfluence + Hayley @sisterdaniels @kettle-on it was so so nice meeting you!! and it was great handing bracelets out to people that was so cute. mwah mwah mwah

[flowerandblood]

A Winter Beauty (1)

[Aemond Targaryen x fem!Stark reader]

[warnings: kissing and fluff]

[description: Aemond and his family arrive at Winterfell for Rickon Stark's Name Day. There, Aemond meets his daughter, who arouses his desire. I changed some names and facts for the sake of the plot. Viserys is also slightly younger in this version.]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next parts: Masterlist

_____

Viserys and his family have come to Winterfell to celebrate the Name Day of Rickon Stark, Lord of Winterfell. It was a nod to the north, a sign of respect for their loyalty and devotion to the crown for generations. Viserys decided that this visit, although for trivial reasons, would be of great political importance and would positively affect their image in this sometimes forgotten part of the country.

Neither Alicent nor his children had ever been to Winterfell before. Although his children were reluctant to leave Kings Landing, in the end they all went on this long journey. During their absence, the state was to be administered by Otto.

Aegon, Aemond and Helaena flew on their dragons. Neither of them wanted to be crammed in for more than a week of traveling in a cramped carriage or on horseback.

The king and queen were forced to take the land route. Viserys' condition deteriorated with his age, but despite Alicent's pleas, they did not turn back. Viserys knew it would be a huge slander for Winterfell, they must have been preparing for this visit for months.

When they finally arrived, the dragons made a great impression on the inhabitants, causing some to panic. The biggest was Vhagar's, landing in the great snowy wasteland far from the castle, so she posed no threat. She was visible from many meters.

When they entered Winterfell, already on horseback, the entire welcoming committee was waiting for them, including Lord Rickon Stark and his wife, Lady Lyanna Arryn. Lord Stark knelt before Viserys, as did all his family, paying him homage.

"My king. It's an honor." He said in a serious, calm tone. Viserys smiled gracefully, doing his best to hide the fatigue of his journey, and stretched out his hands to him, wanting to hug him like a brother. Lord Stark seemed embarrassed for a moment, but he got up from his knees and embraced the king, the crowd around started cheering.

After a short rest and changing clothes, everyone gathered in the great hall of the castle. In its center stood a large wooden table, arranged perpendicularly to the 6 other tables below, intended for other lords and less important guests. Lord Stark has prepared a lavish feast for the king with music and dancing.

Aemond was one of the last to enter the room, sitting on the edge of the table next to his sister, Helaena. Next to her sat Aegon, then Alicent and the king, next to him Lord Stark, his wife and their eldest son, Cregan. The seat next to Cregan was empty.

Although Aemond was initially discouraged by the expedition itself and the change of environment, he found Winterfell a gray but interesting place. The fields and forests filled with snow in the sun looked beautiful and clean, almost fairy-tale, at least compared to some streets of Kings Landing, where sewage simply flowed.

After a while, a girl came in from the other end of the room. Aemond saw her long, slightly wavy black hair out of the corner of his eye.

They weren't combed in any hairstyle, they were just thrown over her shoulders, which were bare because her dress seemed to be made so that it barely held on, creating a boat neckline that showed nothing more than she wanted. The dress was a dull soft blue that rustled as she walked. It accentuated her bright, glowing eyes. She was grinning at Cregan Stark, and Aemond thought, seeing her eyes, that she was his wife.

Indeed, she took a seat next to him. Cregan took her hand and kissed it, she laughed heartily at something he said. Lady Lyanna bent over her, questioning her with a frown - she obviously resented her being late. The girl explained something to her quickly, Cregan just laughed under his breath, and Lady Stark stepped back, smiling slightly herself. Apparently, her explanation did something.

Aemond looked away, deciding that it wasn't right to look at someone's wife like that. He exchanged a few words with Helaena, but looking at her he couldn't stop his eye from darting back to the girl sitting next to Cregan Stark.

She was talking to him lively, didn't seem to notice them at all, and didn't seem to care that the king and queen were sitting next to her. Her face was bright, warm and happy, she looked like it was the happiest day of her life.

They seemed to get along perfectly well. Aemond thought about Helaena's soon to marry Aegon, and his throat tightened. He genuinely felt sorry for her, but he couldn't help her.

Suddenly the music started. Cregan immediately extended his hand to the girl he was talking to, who gladly accepted it. They both got up and wanted to head downstairs to the dance floor, but Lord Stark's voice stopped them.

"Merciful king, I haven't had time to introduce my daughter to you yet." He said, pointing to the girl, who looked surprised at her father and became ashamed as if she suddenly realized who she was facing. "Y/N Stark."

The young Lady Stark bowed with dignity, closing her eyes. Viserys and Alicent looked at her kindly.

"What a winter beauty." Alicent said, sincerity in her voice. "I congratulate you, Lord Stark, on such a reason to be happy."

The girl blushed at her remark, pursed her lips in embarrassment. Only now could Aemond hear the sound of her voice.

"Thank you for those kind words, my queen." She spoke warmly, her voice lively, gentle and calm, full of energy. Aemond shivered for some reason. He felt his heart pounding as he looked at her. She, to his frustration, didn't turn a single glance in their direction. She merely turned to her brother and followed him down the few steps to dance.

Aemond wasn't used to situations like this. Usually, ladies, even if they feared him, knowing that he was a prince, paid him a lot of attention - which most often bothered him and which he avoided. His father planned for him to marry one of Borros Baratheon's daughters.

He had visited Storms End several times with his father, and recalled it as an ordeal. Each of his daughters was vying for his attention, but they were trying to pretend they weren't. They accidentally bumped into him during training or on walks while he was reading, so he would retreat to his chamber, tired and discouraged.

Nothing was official yet, but he knew that sooner or later he would have to choose one of them. He was furious with himself that his attention was drawn to a woman who didn't even give him a single look. He couldn't help but watch her dance, his fingers tapping gently on the table. They were talking about something with Cregan, self-absorbed, laughing. There was a slenderness and grace in their movements that he lacked in dancing.

Suddenly Cregan leaned over her and whispered something in her ear, and she turned to look at Aemond with puzzled eyes. Aemond immediately looked away to the other side of the room, his heart pounding, feeling like a fool caught red-handed stealing. He wanted to burn himself with shame. He pursed his lips and decided not to look at her again.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw various lords of the north come up to her, asking her to dance one by one, and she politely agreed. He tried not to look at her, but he saw that she spoke to everyone gently and with a smile, not exceeding the limits of decency. He was mad for some reason. He thought he had drunk too much wine.

Cregan Stark approached Helaena and asked her to dance. His sister accepted the offer with a smile. Aemond saw Aegon get to his feet and, encouraged, moved toward the young Lady Stark. She looked at him, surprised, and smiled when he offered her a dance. Aemond's jaw clenched at the sight.

To his surprise, in front of his father and mother, Aegon at least pretended to be able to behave. Aemond watched tensely to make sure his hand didn't go too low. He would whisper something in her ear sometimes, and she would turn her head away in embarrassment mixed with amusement, but she didn't seem discouraged and looked at him kindly. On one of the turns, he saw her look at him again, this time with curiosity, and he looked away again, burned. Compared to Aegon, he always felt deficient.

Although his mind was more receptive, full of knowledge, enthusiasm, humility, his body was more efficient in combat, he knew that first impressions count. Aegon, when he wasn't lying in his own vomit between the whore's legs, could pass for a very handsome, interesting man.

It was very easy for him to talk to the ladies, to make contact with them, to flirt with them, which Aemond couldn't. Even though he had a lot to say, he couldn't put it into words.

The dance ended and Y/N and Cregan returned to their seats. Out of the corner of his eye, Aemond saw her bare arms glistening with sweat and exertion, and felt the heat of his lower body. He felt remorse for thinking that way about a woman when his mother and sister were sitting next to him, and he only took a sip of wine, as if he wanted it to wash away all impure thoughts from him.

The rest of the feast passed peacefully, the guests slowly dispersed to their chambers. Y/N and Cregan soon said goodbye to everyone. Aemond's heart leaped as he saw that before she could get through the door, she turned toward him, her gaze bright and warm.

Aemond promised his mother that he would watch over Aegon. So he obediently stayed with him to the end, tearing him away from the kitchen wench and leading him to his chamber. He made him lie down on the bed, and after initially struggling, he gave in and fell asleep, snoring.

Aemond closed the door to his chamber and stepped out into the cloister, heading for his own room. He froze, seeing her figure slinking by with only a candle in his hand. She was already dressed in a long white nightgown, over it she had a white night robe tied at the waist. With her fair skin, dark hair and eyebrows and white robes, she looked like a ghost.

She looked around as she walked barefoot to see if anyone was seeing her, and when she saw him, her eyes widened in surprise. He wondered if she was on her way to see her lover. They stared at each other for a moment in silence. Aemond felt he had to speak to her, that if he didn't do it now, he never would.

"Should a lady go unattended alone at night in a castle?" He asked, there was an involuntary coldness and indifference in his voice, in which he tried to dress his words so as not to show how much his heart was pounding. To his surprise, Lady Stark smiled as if she was about to laugh.

"She's allowed if it's her castle." She said carefully. Aemond pursed his lips at her remark. She saw it and smiled even wider. "Will you accompany me, Prince Aemond?" She asked, a sudden shudder ran through his body. He felt the heat and tension in his lower body again, and he wondered what she was implying. She didn't let him think too long.

“I heard you love philosophy and history. You may be interested in the crypts of my ancestors. I was just on my way to pay my respects to my grandmother. Today is also her name day." She said embarrassed, as if she felt that what came out of her mouth earlier could sound very ambiguous.

Aemond swallowed softly, feeling relieved and disappointed at the same time. He just nodded his head, letting out only a quiet grunt of approval. He would went to see anything with her, as long as he could look at her up close.

Lady Stark led him down the stairs to the underworld. Her candle was the only source of light. He wondered if she was cold, but she didn't seem that way. She moved through the dark corridors with remarkable ease. They passed sculptures of her ancestors, staring at them solemnly and menacingly, the shadows on their faces disturbing.

Finally, they stopped in front of a statue of a pretty woman holding flowers in her hand. Y/N lit other candles from her candle, standing at the feet of the sculpture, the corridor slowly began to be flooded with their light. Aemond stared heart pounding at her profile.

He wondered how she could trust him so easily. Go underground with a strange man, where no one would hear her cries for help. If she had come down here with Aegon, she would have been lost by now. He himself was battling some wild, alien desire that now possessed his body.

He was completely bewildered, always able to control himself perfectly, also when it came to his sexuality. After an adventure at the age of 13 in a brothel served to him by his brother, such matters did not attract him much attention. Now, looking at her, he felt hunger.

"Is it wise to go down to the crypts with a strange man, at night?" He finally asked impassively, looking at her tensely. She looked at him surprised, as if she didn't even consider the possibility that anything could happen to her. She smiled calmly.

"I didn't come down here with your brother, so I guess I'll be fine, my prince." She spoke calmly, though her voice trembled slightly. Aemond's pupil dilated in shock. She had to watch Aegon at the banquet and see how closely he spoke to the servants.

Aemond swallows silently, looking away. They stood in silence for a moment. He could smell her scent in his nose. A mix of lavender, flowers and herbs. He felt like his head was spinning and that he should go back upstairs because the tension in his pants was unbearable.

"You never dance, my prince?" She asked suddenly, looking pensively at the figure of her grandmother. Aemond looked at her in surprise. His eye traveled down her body, he saw the faint outline of her breasts and thighs. He swallowed, feeling his heart pounding.

"Never." He said indifferently. He didn't know what else to add. "I can dance, but I don't enjoy it." He finally exhaled.

Y/N looked at him surprised and smiled understandingly. She nodded, looking down at her legs. Aemond pursed his lips. He thought he couldn't stand it.

His hand involuntarily reached for her soft cheek, grabbing it. She gasped at his touch, jumped in surprise, and looked at him with wide eyes. The words stuck in her throat as he turned her face towards him and stepped closer to her. He pressed her forehead against his, they could feel each other's breath on each other, breathing raggedly, loudly.

He didn't hold her roughly, he wanted to give her the feeling that she could pull away at any moment and run from him. She looked stunned for a moment, her eyes expressing terror, uncertainty and something he couldn't describe. They looked at each other in silence.

He felt a huge shiver run through his body as her hand touched his scarred cheek. They both took a deep breath. He wondered what they were even doing, what his mother would think if she saw him. But he couldn't think about it anymore. He had been frustrated throughout the feast, watching her dance and touch every man but him.

He leaned over her and pressed his lips greedily against hers, and she moaned softly in surprise. He kissed her lustfully, and after a moment, to his delight, she opened her mouth, allowing him to caress her. He moaned low as she started kissing back, her hand tangling in his hair.

He thought they must be crazy, that the wine had gone too far into their heads, but he couldn't tear himself away from her. He held her in an iron grip, the wet sounds of their mouths echoing down the hall, pausing sometimes for a moment to catch their breath, but neither of them could really stop, they continued kissing, moaning into each other's mouths. He held her close but kept his distance so she wouldn't feel what was going on in his pants. He didn't want her to think he was trying to take her by force now. He wouldn't be able to refuse her, if she offered it.

They finally broke apart, as if remembering who they were, where they were, and what they were doing. An expression of uncertainty and embarrassment crossed their faces, and they took a few steps away from each other, terrified. Aemond thought she could hear his heart pounding. He had never felt so much desire before. He prayed to the Seven to give him the strength to turn around, climb the stairs, and not touch her.

"Forgive me, my Lady. I didn't mean to scare or embarrass you. Let me go to my chambers." He said, and with the last of his willpower he turned away, heading for the stairs, leaving her in the candlelight.

_____

Between the first and second part of my regular series, I also started writing something else, in the subject of HOTD. I'm curious what you think and if you'd like a little mini-series out of this! If you want to be tagged in the next parts, let me know. ~

[yellobb]

Tell me about ye olde "cold case outline"

Ooooo I was hoping someone asked about this one when I first posted the ask game!!!!

From this ask game

Cold Case Outline

This is another WIP that my sister and I did that we actually fully fleshed out, but I am still holding out a bit of hope that one day I’ll actually write the damn thing.

Simon is a mechanic and Baz is an Instagram model. They first meet when Baz brings his Jag in, and he’s immediately enamored with Simon in his oil-stained tank top, messy curls, and freckles. Simon immediately falls in love with Baz’s Jag and fawns over it, which does not help Baz’s predicament. He starts coming to the shop as often as possible with any excuse he can think of (oil change, tire rotation, “the building is just very aesthetic, Snow, so I need you to take my picture while I pose all sexy”). He even keys his own car at one point to have an excuse to visit him (it was a moment of desperation and he’s not proud of it, but he stands by his actions).

Simon lives with Penny and Shepard. Shepard is very into true crime and is hoping to start a podcast of his own about it. Shep visits Simon at work one day, but he gets very quiet and starts staring at Baz when he walks in to drop off the Jag, looking like he’s seen a ghost. Baz is visibly uncomfortable, so Simon kicks Shep out until Baz is good to go. He asks Shep what the hell that was all about afterwards, and Shep is like “that’s Baz Pitch”. “Yeah, and?” “Like, Natasha and Malcolm Grimm-Pitch’s son?! From the 2002 Olympics! Do you think he’d let me interview him for my podcast?”

It turns out, Baz isn’t just mildly famous for his Instagram presence. In 2002, when he was just five years old, his mother was an Olympic figure skater. The day of her event, she didn’t show up to warm-ups. She was found dead under suspicious circumstances over a week later. There are clips of some of her last moments where she acts erratically that went viral, and her case has fascinated the public ever since.

We didn’t get far on actually writing out this story, but what I did finish is a news report that explains the circumstances of Natasha’s death 👀 I’ve included it under the cut if anyone wants to read it! I’m actually pretty damn proud of how it turned out and have always wanted to share it, so I hope y’all enjoy :)

Natasha Grimm-Pitch Death Still Stumps People 20 Years Later

Natasha Grimm-Pitch, world-renowned ice dance figure skater from Great Britain and 3x Olympic medalist, went missing on February 9th, 2002. That morning, her husband and partner, Malcolm Grimm, woke up to find she had not returned in the night. Assuming she had stayed the night with her sister, Fiona Pitch, who had traveled with the pair in order to watch their 5-year-old son, Tyrannus Grimm-Pitch, while they competed, Grimm got ready for the day’s competition, but began to grow worried when Pitch met him at the Salt Lake Ice Center without her sister. She had met Grimm to take Tyrannus, known as “Baz” by those close to the family, but was shocked to find out that Grimm-Pitch had not returned to the couple’s room in the Olympic Village.

“Nat had come over the night before, yeah,” Pitch said, when interviewed about the disappearance the day after the event. “She came over to my hotel room to get some stress relief. I mean, this was her moment. She’d been out of the public eye for a while, after having Baz, and felt like she needed to medal in order to prove herself. I couldn’t tell you who she was proving herself to, though. She never cared what other people thought of her; not even me.”

Grimm was hesitant to alert the police, hoping that his wife had stayed with a teammate, but couldn’t hesitate any longer once warm-up was scheduled to start and she had yet to make an appearance.

“Nat would never have missed a warm-up, especially not now. She’s always on time. Something happened to her,” Grimm told the press the day of the disappearance. Grimm-Pitch’s disappearance caused a stir in the Olympic Village, especially amongst her teammates.

“I knew Natasha. That woman was a force to be reckoned with. When I heard that Malcolm had forfeited their position, I knew something was wrong. Everyone was uneasy as soon as we heard. I think we all knew, deep down, what must have happened. None of us even saw Natasha take a sick day. There was no way in hell she was going to let something stop her from competing again,” said teammate, Mitali Bunce, a year after her disappearance.

A mass investigation was launched into the disappearance, with state and local police leading the search. Grimm searched the streets with his sister-in-law in the hopes of finding her, often leaving their child in the care of the other British athletes. Though the ice dance competition continued, this would not be the case for long.

Natasha Grimm-Pitch’s body was found, washed-up in nearby Farmington Bay, on February 20th, just over a week after her disappearance. The Olympic Village, and the world, watched on in shock as her death was officially announced by the Salt Lake City Police Department at 11:08 AM. The Olympic Committee officially suspended what remained of the ice dance competition that evening, putting out a statement about the tragedy:

“In light of the recent tragedy involving ice dancer, Natasha Grimm-Pitch, the Olympic Committee has unanimously decided to suspend the ice dance competition for the remainder of the Olympic season. We ask the figure skating community to come together at this time to honor her legacy and mourn her loss. The Committee will reconvene in the next month to determine when the events will be completed.”

Her body was flown back to the family’s home in Hampshire, UK, but the FBI stayed in contact with British authorities for the resulting investigation. In the coming months, the mystery only grew. According to her autopsy, Grimm-Pitch had been dead for around 230 hours, placing her death sometime on the evening of February 10th, the day after she went missing. To make the case more shocking, she had only been submerged in the water for five days upon being found, meaning there was a six day gap between her death and her body being, supposedly, dumped in the bay. Despite this, she appeared to have died of natural causes, with nothing to indicate that she had resisted an attacker. There were already rumors in the news surrounding foul play, but things really exploded once security camera footage was made publicly available in April 2002.

In a now infamous clip, Grimm-Pitch is shown entering the Olympic Village at 3:00 AM, missing her shoes and the bag her sister claimed she left her hotel room with. Grimm-Pitch appears to be disoriented, running to hide behind walls and looking around wildly, despite no one being in the vicinity. The footage lasts six minutes, with Grimm-Pitch circling the building she was staying in, even briefly entering the entranceway before stumbling back out.

Her erratic behaviour combined with the confounding circumstances around her actual death threw the media into a frenzy. Every major news outlet reported for over a month with updates in the case, but no suspects were ever identified. It seemed that there were no leads whatsoever. The figure skating community and the true crime community alike waited with bated breaths to find if her death was ruled a suicide, homicide, or accident.

Unfortunately, the answer never came. In 2013, the case was unofficially closed after over a decade with no new information. The case has gone down as one of the most shocking and mysterious disappearances in British and American history alike. The Grimms and Pitches are still desperate for answers, though.

A year after the death of his wife, Malcolm Grimm officially announced his campaign for Prime Minister in the United Kingdom. Despite critics saying he was using Grimm-Pitch’s death to further his political aspirations, which had begun in 1997 with the birth of his son, he won the seat. With his victory, the most popular conspiracy theory surrounding Grimm-Pitch’s death was born.

Many people believe that Grimm knew their performance would fail, leading to them fading from the public eye. To prevent this, Grimm chose to murder his wife and use the sympathy he garnered following her death to get elected. He, allegedly, drugged her, waited for her to die, and hid her body in their room until, six days later, the police grew suspicious of him, so he dumped her body in the bay as a cover-up. Proponents of this theory claim that the mortician performing the autopsy was paid off to lie about finding drugs in her system.

Another popular theory surrounds Fiona Pitch. Pitch has a record of substance abuse, so theories have circulated about her, accidentally or otherwise, giving Grimm-Pitch more than she could handle (despite multiple sources stating that she never used drugs). The theory states that Grimm-Pitch managed to leave her sister’s hotel room before she started experiencing delusions and paranoia. Her sister, who had aided in the search for her, then found her body six days later, dead from overdose, and dumped her in the bay to avoid indicating herself in manslaughter. Many point to a 1995 case involving Pitch where her boyfriend, Nicodemus Petty, overdosed in their London apartment. Pitch herself barely survived the ordeal, but was saved when Petty’s sister, Ebeneza Petty, happened to visit that morning and was able to call paramedics. Pitch was convicted of illegal substance abuse and spent five years in rehabilitation facilities. She claims that she has been clean ever since.

Others believe that it was simply a case of mania, despite Grimm-Pitch’s nearly spotless mental health record. She had been prescribed Wellbutrin following the birth of her son, but stopped using it after only a year. To this day, the case remains unsolved.

Despite the rumors surrounding the family, they have seen unbelievable success. Grimm still enjoys a successful political career, but the star of the show is Tyrannus “Baz” Grimm-Pitch. He has grown a large following online, amassing thirty million followers on his Instagram since its creation in 2018. Grimm-Pitch enjoys a life as an Instagram model with an estimated net worth of nearly $10 million. Despite being in the limelight since his mother’s death, he has yet to publicly comment on the infamous case. His aunt acts as his manager, but abstains from all public appearances.

[tia-amorosa]

Sunset Died - Sword/Hatch

The Wedding(-Crasher) (Part 2)

The cake was indeed something special on this day. It was not very sweet, but had a pleasant taste of berries. Emma had boiled them down a while ago and used them for today's occasion. “Really good. I think that's the best today.” Pauline looked over at her plate and grinned, “as quickly as you ate your piece, I think so too, hnhn”.

While Cyclone and Blair's wedding reception is in full swing, someone elsewhere is frantically making their way to get help. “Shit, why did it have to start now, I thought we still had time…”. Cries of pain could be heard far away.

The atmosphere at the party was quite relaxed. Someone had switched on their smartphone and played a playlist. It was a colorful mix, including some slow tracks. You had to take advantage of that. “I've been practicing a bit more"/ ”really? Well then show me if you've become a good dancer, hnhn”.

As Boyd's wife was still busy with the cake, he asked Emma for a short dance. He wanted to use the moment to thank her for taking such good care of his daughter during this difficult time. “Thank you, but it was a matter of course for me to look after her. She's like a sister to me"/ ‘hnhn, that makes me happy’.

Let loose and enjoy the rest of the day. That was actually the plan. Pauline said goodbye and went home, while Xander had to finish the dance with Morgana. It was a nice get-together - until the peace and quiet was interrupted.

A few moments later. Nick Alto stormed with quick steps towards the barn where the party was taking place. He knew there was an event here today, but he had to find a place where there were a lot of people. “My God, Mr. Alto, what…"/ ”Is Dr. Wolff here? I need to see her urgently!”

And at the same time, the commotion began when some of the guests saw him. “What are you doing here, huh? You don't show your face for ages and then…”, but Nick immediately defended himself. “I don't have time to explain right now, I need Dr. Wolff!"/ ‘I'm here…’. Morgana came running out of the background and saw that he was quite out of breath. “What happened?”.

Susan was surprised and annoyed at the same time. “That he's showing up here today, of all days, at our daughter's wedding"/ ‘Well, it seems to be something important… Look at him, he's a mess, what's going on there?’. Morgana supported Nick for a moment until he could catch his breath. “Now tell me, what happened?"/ ‘He should tell us why first…’/ ”Quiet, damn it!”...

After the confusion of everyone's chatter died down, Nick continued, panting slightly. “I know everything is getting out of hand here at the moment, but I need your help now, Dr. … Vita, she's gone into labor, too early actually, and she's in tremendous pain, please, help us!�� / ‘What??’.

“Your wife… is pregnant?”. Everyone in the room was visibly surprised and also a little shocked. No one had noticed anything yet. How could they, she hadn't been out for months. “I… I know you must all have lots of questions and I'll answer them eventually, but please��� Something's not right…”. Morgan's head was foggy for a moment, but then the doctor in her came out. “I'm coming…”.

Even the bride and groom had not expected such an event on this day. “Phew. That was a very surprising wedding crasher“/”indeed. Did any of you notice anything? That Vita is pregnant?"/ ‘No. I haven't seen her once since we got back here’/ ”I wonder why she's been keeping her pregnancy a secret all this time? She might be older, but that's no reason to hide."/ Blair shook his head. “Anyway, the party's over. Let's go home.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

End of this Part

@greenplumbboblover 😊

Poses by: @poses-by-bee, @natalia-auditore (mika's pain)

[innytoes]

Stop flirting with yourself in the mirror, Reggie + any (Flynn? Carrie? Anyone? I can't choose)

Reggie wasn't quite sure why he was invited to girls night when all the other guys - even Alex, who liked pink and pop music and dancing - were banned. Maybe because he had Serious Opinions in the Team Jess versus Team Dean versus Team Logan debate. Maybe because he was basically Julie's unofficial brother and Ray's favourite child and he was always over at the Molina house anyway. Maybe because he liked butterflies and glitter.

What started as sleepovers and movie nights as teenagers evolved into clubbing once they hit their twenties. (And then sleepovers and movies later. Romcoms were way better when you were three fruity cocktails in and had stopped to grab greasy take out on the way home.)

Also, he loved playing Fake Boyfriend for all the girls. It meant they could dance more freely, without guys bothering them, and sometimes it meant that people thought he had three girlfriends at once which was hilariously good for his ego. Even though Julie was like, kind of his sister, which, you know, gross.

"What do you think?" Julie asked, coming out of the bedroom where the girls were getting ready. She was wearing a pretty dress, all shiny sequins, and a pair of black sneakers with white doodles that would light up perfectly under the black light.

"I think Tía would have a heart attack if she saw you wear that," he said, shooting her some finger guns. "You look like a sparkly disco ball in the best way. Those sneakers are going to pop. "

Flynn was out next, and he gave an enthusiastic attempt at beatboxing so she could walk down the catwalk to show off her outfit, some tight faux-leather pants and an eye-popping neon crop top over a mesh body suit. He applauded at her flourish and pose at the end. "You look like a fashion model!" he said, and she grinned. "We're not going to even get to the club before you're swarmed by fashion bloggers! They're going to crown you their queen."

"You look..." she eyed him. "The same."

"Hey!" Reggie pouted. "I spent like forty-five minutes on my hair!" Okay, so he was just in his usual ripped jeans and black tank top, but like, the clubs got hot. He wanted to get his groove on with the girls, so the leather jacket was out. He was still debating if he should wrap his flannel around his waist or not. Even though chances were if he did, one of the girls would be wearing it home because he was a gentleman.

"And it looks perfect, babygirl," Flynn said, and he didn't care if there was a sarcastic undertone to it, he beamed. "But you are not Club Ready. Hold on, let me grab some eye-liner."

And it was only because of many, many Girls Nights that Reggie had perfected sitting perfectly still without flinching while people poked sharp things near his eyes.

But when Flynn was done, well, he looked Good. Like, good good. Like sexy brooding punk who had a secret soft side good. He completely missed Carrie's grand entrance, he was so busy making faces at himself in the mirror.

"Stop flirting with yourself in the mirror, Reginald," Carrie said, impatiently tapping her foot so he could turn around and give her her deserved accolades.

So he did, turning around and beaming. Carrie was, of course, in all pink, a tight dress and heels that Reggie had no idea how she could dance in, and the perfect amount of highlighter on her face. Her lips were all wet and shiny looking from her sparkly lipgloss, and Reggie tried not to think about how kissable they looked.

"You look really pretty," he blurted out, which wasn't anywhere close to his usual over the top cheer squad pep-talks.

Except Carrie didn't seem put out at all. Instead she was staring at his eyes, his eyeliner. "You do too."

Behind him, he heard Flynn and Julie high five, and he couldn't even be mad about it. Maybe if tonight went well, he wouldn't have to play fake boyfriend to Carrie anymore.

[completely-normal-about-trolls]

20 Years Ago...

"One minute to showtime!" The stage manager called out. The brothers stretched and did their normal pre-concert routines, trying to limber up and get rid of the nerves that typically came with this type of gig. Chants of "BroZone! BroZone! BroZone!" could easily be heard backstage, sending each of them deeper into their nerves.

John Dory hummed in thought, mulling over their set list for tonight's performance. "Alright, guys. We're gonna open with 'Girl, Baby, Baby,' and end with 'Baby, Baby, Girl.' No, that doesn't sound right." The Leader paused, a better idea coming quickly. "Ooh! I got it! Open with 'Baby, Baby, Girl,' close with 'Baby, Baby, Girl, Woman!' Yes!" He threw his pencil at the sheet music and laughed to him in confidence. "We are going to make boyband history tonight."

Spruce was on the ground, grunting and groaning as he tried to get his abs rock hard and popping for tonight performance. "510. 511. 512," He said to himself.

"Love to see it, brother," John Dory said, making his way over to Spruce. "I'm wanna see a hundred more of those by showtime. Those abs need to poppin', baby!" He smiled, admiring his brother's abs and knowing all the praise they'd get from ladies just from a glimpse of those.

"God, I wanna boil an egg on those abs!" He said as he walked away from The Heartthrob.

"John Dory," Clay said, getting his brother's attention. "Do I really have to keep wearing these things?" He asked, gesturing to the slightly shiny underwear he was wearing.

"Yes, you do, Clay," John Dory said, going over to The Fun Boy. "They're funderdrawers. It's underwear, but 76% more fun!" He reasoned. "Now, let's see those dance moves, brother!"

"Fine," Clay said with a sigh. "Rusty Robot-" He started with a stiff, robotic dance. "Into Wiggle Worm-" He did a little body roll. "End on Caliente Puppet." He did a little walk like he was being moved by some strings. "Yeah!" He struck a funny little pose and stuck out his tounge. At least he was trying to have fun.

"Bro, you look stressed," Floyd said, stopping John Dory from walking away. "Breathe." He took a deep breath as to mimic what to do, smiling as he felt his nerves wash away.

"Well, of course I'm stressed, Floyd," he said mockingly. "It's the first show of the tour! We have to hit the perfect family harmony! We promised the fans!" He said with a little whine, gesturing to the stage.

"Ok, calm down. You're making Bitty B nervous," The Sensitive One said, gesturing to the littlest member of their group.

"What? No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. She can't be nervous!" He said. "She has to be perfect! Ugh, I knew we shouldn't have let a girl into a boyband!"

"John, stop that," Floyd said. "It's her first show. Be patient." He walked away from and went to their baby sister's side. She was peeking out of the vine curtains, looking out nervously on the crowd.

"Hey, Bramble," Floyd said. "How you feeling?"

The girl turned around, messing with her pink onesie. "I feel like I'm gonna barf, pass out, and-"

"Pee your pants all at once?" Floyd guessed with a smile.

Bramble stared up in shock. "How'd you know?" She asked in a sweet little voice.

"Ah, you got the pre show jitters," Floyd said simply. "Completely normal. Everyone gets them." He smiled at his little sister. "You wanna know what I do when I get them?"

Bramble paused and began to think. "Barf, pass out, and pee your pants?"

Floyd let out a little chuckle. "I remember that I'm with my brothers, and that when we come together, there is nothing we can't do."

"But no one's ever hit the perfect family harmony before," Bramble said. "Is it true it can shatter diamonds?" She asked with a starstruck look.

"Yeah," Floyd said, smiling at her. "It's that powerful."

"Alright, boys. And Bramble," John said, cutting through their little conversation. "Just remember, no matter what you do, follow my lead." He pulled Bramble forward and quickly tied her hair into a ponytail, with a pink sparkly bow that was as big as her head.

"Or maybe," Floyd countered. "Let's just go out there and have fun together."

"It's just... So much pressure!" Clay said nervously, gulping as he gripped the vine curtain.

Bramble whined and pushed away from John, trying to take the bow out. "I don't wanna wear it!"

"Too bad! You're a girl and it makes you look cute!" John said firmly, forcing the ponytail and bow tighter. "Now keep the damn bow in." He rolled his eyes and shook his head, mumbling something about how much trouble girls caused.

"Ten seconds!" The stage manager called out.

"A-And what happens if we can't hit the harmony?" Spruce asked as he oiled up his abs.

"Oh, that's not an option," John Dory said, turning back to the group. "If we can't hit the perfect family harmony, we aren't perfect. And if we aren't perfect, we're nothing! Just follow my lead, and the harmony will happen," he insisted. "Let's bro!" John, Spruce, and Clay went on stage, leaving a whimpering Bramble and an upset Floyd behind.

"I don't wanna wear it..." Bramble whined. "I don't wanna be a girl. I wish I was a boy like you, Floyd..."

"I know. But it'll be ok." Floyd gave her a sad smile and loosened both the bow and ponytail. "I'll talk to John Dory before the next show. Just wear it for now. Just to make him happy." He put her glasses on and led her out as the bros were being introduced.

"Ladies and gentlemen, here they are!" The announcer called out. "The Heartthrob!"

Spruce swung out on stage and gave his signature smolder to the crowd, smiling as they cheered.

"The Fun Boy!"

Clay bounced on some mushrooms around the stage, jumping and flipping until he landed on stage and stuck a pose.

"The Sensitive One!"

Floyd flipped his hair and struck a pose as well, smiling at the crowd.

"The Leader!"

John's entrance, while dramatic, was simple. He rose to the stage and threw out his arms, taking up as much space as possible.

"And... The Baby!"

A spotlight shone down Bramble. She giggled and stuck out her tounge, holding up a peace sign to the crowd.

"Give it up for BroZone!"

The group came together at centre stage, all striking a pose as the music began to play.

"Oh there she goes!" They sang in unison.

"On the floor, let's do this. No more talking!" Spruce broke out of the formation and smiled. He opened his vest, watching as women (and some men) around the stage fainted at the sight of his abs.

"Did anybody notice?" It was Floyd's turn to break, heading to the front and turning up the charm.

"The energy just shifted when we dropped in." He gave a little smile, slowly walking back. "Ooh, let it drop in."

"Ooh, I don't flex but I might," Clay sang, busting out his best moves. "Groove about to take flight." Clay jumped out of the way, letting John take center stage.

"'Cause the night is young and the music's on, and we got love on sight." John smiled and moved out of the way, letting Bramble take the spotlight now.

Bramble gave a wide, toothy grin, looking out on the crowd as she sang and danced. "The sky was the limit! Now the stars where we're livin'! It's the vibe when we're in it! It'll blow your MIND!" She giggled and squealed as she heard people shouting "BITTY B!" She could barely believe it! She was finally singing and dancing with her brothers! As they went into the chorus, she noticed a glow surround her. Then it went around John, then her other three brothers. Oh my hair, was this the Perfect Family Harmony?!

"Ok. great!" John whispered. "It's working! Yes!" He rushed forward, heading to the front of the stage and gesturing for the bros to follow him. "C'mon, guys!"

Floyd gave a nervous look to the others, slowly following John.

"What's he doing?!" Clay asked in a whisper. "This isn't my choreo!" He followed John anyway, and so did Spruce.

Bramble watched them sadly. She didn't know what was going on. Floyd motioned for her to come forward, and she followed like a little puppy. She watched her brothers stack on top of each other one by one, and she was passed up to the top, standing on Clay's hand as she held the harmony with her brothers.

However, Bramble's tiny lungs couldn't hold the note for long, and her little legs quickly got tired. Her voice strained and her legs wobbled. The tower started to sway. She slipped off Clay's hand and the dirty socked feet of her onesie fell into Clay's open mouth. He stopped singing and spat, trying to get the taste off his tongue as he dropped Bramble. The tower quickly fell, and Floyd fell off the stage entirely, grabbing onto a nearby vine to try and regain his balance. John got up and was about to tear Spruce and Clay a new one, but he was knocked into a mushroom by Floyd swinging by on the vine. Through one tiny disaster after another, John Dory, Spruce, Clay, and Floyd had all been tied up in the lighting system by the vines.

Bramble watched, tears beginning to form. She stared out at the crowd, who was just as shocked as her.

A stage hand ran out, trying to damage control. "Ladies and gentlemen, please stand by!" She called out. "Uh, we're experiencing, uh, some stuff."

"Hey," John called out. "At least we didn't fall!" The vines snapped, and the four brothers face planted into the stage. ".....we fell."

Bramble just watched, tears starting to fall. Was this her fault? Maybe John Dory was right. Maybe they shouldn't have let a girl into the band...

Floyd stood up and dusted himself off, rushing over as soon as he saw her. "Hey, hey, it's ok, Bram," he said softly. "Let's just go home. We'll work everything out there."

▪︎□▪︎□▪︎□▪︎□▪︎

"See what happens when you don't follow my lead?!" John said as the brothers stormed into the pod. "Ugh, i knew we shouldn't have let Bramble join!"

"Dude, this is exactly what happens when we follow your lead!" Spruce said, following him deeper into the pod. "And stop picking on Bitty B! It wasn't her fault!"

"Oh, so it's my fault?" John asked sarcastically. "Is that what you're saying?" He sighed heavily. "I know we can reach the perfect family harmony!"

"What if we don't want to?" Spruce asked with a glare.

"Yeah, dude!" Clay cut in. "This used to be fun. Now it's all about bein' perfect," he said mockingly.

"You know what?" Spruce said, quickly coming to a revelation. "I'm done playing the heartthrob. My exquisitely chiseled rock hard abs and i quit." He ripped off the purple vest he was wearing, tearing it in half.

"I quit, too," Clay said. "And you can keep these." He pulled out his funderdrawers and threw them in John's face. "i'm more than just the fun one. I'm in a sad book club. Did you know that? A sad book club!" He said, trying to defend himself. "I'm going to find trolls who take me seriously."

John pulled the underwear off his face, slowly getting enraged. "Fine! I don't need this!" He started backing away from them. "I'm out. I'm done. I'm sorry." He grabbed a camping backpack and a grappling hook. "I'm gonna go hike the Neverglade Trail by myself, bro-lone." He shot the hook outside the window, listening to it hit and latch onto a branch. "Yeah, that's right. Bro-bro going solo. Yolo." He turned away from them and hopped out the window, calling out to them one last time. "Goodbye forever! Later, losers!"

Spruce and Clay watched with unimpressed look, deciding to go out the door like normal trolls. "Fine, I'm out of here," Clay said.

"Same here," Spruce said, leaving without another word.

"Guys, please," Floyd said, trying to make them stop. "C'mon..." He sighed, watching as they ignored him and went further from the pod.

"It's my fault," Bramble said, tears still running down her cheeks. "I ruined everything."

"No, no, Bramble," Floyd said, kneeling down in front of her. "This is not your fault." He sighed, trying to think of an explanation to satisfy his little sister. "We're not in sync. We've gone from boys to men, and now there's only one direction for us to go: the backstreets."

"But not you, Floyd," Bramble said. "You're not leaving, too."

"Not forever," he said. "I'll be back. I promise. But right now, I... I have to follow my heart. It's telling me that it's time to start a solo career."

"But what am I gonna do?" She asked, feeling the tears coming back. She was losing all her brothers left and right, and it was like they didn't even care.

"Bramble, you are gonna do the most important thing of all," Floyd said, looking around the pod. "You're gonna...take care of Grandma!" He smiled and gestured to Grandma Rosiepuff, shuffling a deck of cards at the table.

"C'mon, Bramble," she said in a sweet voice. "Let's play some rummy. But I won't let you win." She suddenly became serious. "Because I play for the money."

Bramble looked back at Floyd, looking a little scared.

"You might have to let her win. Occasionally," he said with a wink. "When you miss me, you can wear this." He took off his leafy vest and wrapped it around her. "It'll be like I'm right here with you."

"And when you come back we'll make our hideout," Bramble insisted, showing him a little drawing. It was the childish schematics of an underground bunker, with one room for each of them, and a drawing of all of them on a water slide in the bunker.

Floyd looked it over with a smile. "Definitely. Is that a ten story water slide?"

"Yeah, that's how we shower!" She giggled excitedly and bounced in place.

"Well, then we better keep this in a safe place." He folded it back up and put it in a pocket inside the vest. He reached out, giving her one last hug. When they pulled away, he smiled at her. "See you soon, Baby Bramble..." He really didn't want to leave. But there was no way in hell Grandma would let him take her. He got up and headed to the door, grabbing his guitar and looking back one last time.

Bramble looked so adorable, standing in the oversized vest, with the ribbon of her bow now undone and hanging loosely around her neck. She gave him a toothy grin and waved goodbye as he left. "Bye... See you later..." She called out.

"I know it's hard, Bramble," Grandma said. She got up and picked her up, holding her close. "But the boys fight like this all the time. They'll be back before the end of the month and you'll be back to your singing and dancing in no time."

"Promise?" Bramble asked sweetly.

"Promise," Rosiepuff said. "And that's a Grandma Promise, so you know it's good and true. How about I teach you how to play rummy?"

"Ok!"

[amazing-lucky-life-of-bushra]

Persia

Persia is elegant and stylish.

She was a little lady. Always elegant. The way she held herself. The way she sat. The way she posed in photos when she wasn't making fun. Persia was way more elegant than me.

Battersea - Persia got upset and complained the Battersea flat which was immaculate most of the time was not tidy enough. So the current Brighton set up couldn't be further from the TRUTH.

Battersea note -

One evening a team member came over. Livia. A very beautiful kind hard working soul. Extremely smart lady from Moldova. To be honest I knew nothing about Moldova so even on that basis it was interesting to hear what she had to say.

We would meet at the conduit and work from there. Frankly it was nice to have the company and to discuss the ideas and viability of how to move forward with the company with her. And we did work very well together completing a few projects.

I tried to keep our friendship and working relationship separate, to keep a professional distance though I thought she was a lovely person. And we had a lot in common - enjoying the arts and eating out. Also at 50, it felt kind of weird having a friend in their 20s. Though she never made me feel weird. Particularly at that point I wasn't seeing enough of my long term friends - note to self to do more of that. Still we always enjoyed each others company.

So back to ... the evening.

I had told Persia I was having a friend/ colleague over. Livia came over with a nice bottle of wine from Moldova. It was a speciality.

I can't remember what I cooked - probably spicy pizza ? Thai curry ? I was probably very self conscious about the fact about my cooking skills. Definitely something spicy - which I was quite surprised by.

We spoke about Moldova and also work. I remember her saying to me that people are all going to ask me questions. I had a situation where Lloyds bank / business were questioning how long I had had my business but I felt it was yet another setup. I wrote about it previously. I felt she was trying to mediate. But I think aka The Rock - I just have strong views on how things should be run.

Anyway it didn't get in the way of having a lovely time.

Persia was back from school and hanging around her bedroom. But she popped out to have a nosey. She made some - I am too cool for school entrance into the room. I know that look she does. Pretends like she is doing something else but coming in totally to have a nosey at the situation and who is in the room. Quite strategic. I don't know who she gets that from.

Persia's face did light up when she saw Livia. I could see she Persia had that - oh my mum knows a cool girl look on her face, highly impressed by Livia's red/pink curly hair I could see. Persia immediately went into into wanting to impress her.

And said I think that her and her friends were making up a dance from tiktok but they made fun of Persia or something. For a couple of years Persia had been learning Tik Tok dances. She proceeded to show Livia. I could see Livia was quietly enamoured by Persia's showing off to the 'older sister' in the room. Then Persia hung around talking about space and shroedingers cat with Livia. Very sophisticated conversations .. trying to show what a little lady Persia was to Livia.

In fact Persia would regularly challenge Ryan on what he knew about space. She is so Smart, funny, nosey, not afraid, strangely sophisticated in articulating herself. Confrontational but shy. Fearless. Funny. Unpredictable in her thinking and articulation of how she sees the world.

That's why I love Persia because she has this original way of thinking amongst just being a gorgeous girl. I can't wait to talk to her.

After Livia left. Persia pointedly asked me = how did I know Livia, like how would her uncool mum know someone like Livia ! Which made me chuckle. Livia definitely made an impression on Persia.

To be continued ... as I write more.

PERSIA

I very much miss Persia.

She had all these little lady quirks.

She would turn it on and off - ideas, her quirks a lot like her mummy. It was very sparky. And very sparkly.

And I don't understand - where is she ?

Why would you substitute her.

It is so strange.

Persia at Bedtime loved her feet massaged, her arms and hands massaged and her back, her hair and her forehead massaged. Even my mum did that to me when I was feeling sad or was fluey etc as an adult. When I went to Bangladesh with her when I was 30 and we had to share bed, I had really had pmt and my mum stroked my hair to sleep. Sorry white people if you have never experienced this - bad f-in g luck.

Persia is kind.

Persia loves her mummy.

Persia is no longer angry about the divorce.

i noticed at the palm in dubai, when there was fakery in the shop where i bought my costume she started to get upset & started biting me - not because of me but because of the situation. She was real in dubai.

Persia has these really interesting eyes - sort of like Chinese sometimes just on her high cheekbones.

In Brighton we would hang out - like when we walked along the seafront and went to shops trying on things and I bought her some bits she liked and we went to eat at that chicken place and the guy made her wings without spices. We did that just a few weeks ago. It was really nice.

So we do things like that together anywhere in the world in any dimension !

Ryan was a bot in clapham & I believe he is ok so Persia must be too.

[weirdthoughtsandideas]

Alternate time period

I remember watching the background of SL and noticing a sign that said Jam and Roller was established in 1962. Now I'm experiencing a mandela effect as I cannot find reference pictures to it?!

Nonetheless. Here's a little snippet of Jam and Roller in 1962.

Read on ao3 or under the cut.

The year was 1962, and there was a new indoor roller skate rink in the city. Jam and Roller. It was created because of the increased interest in roller skating that happened in the late 1950s. 

The rink turned out to be a hit, having especially young people coming to skate around.

This day, it all seemed like just any other. That is until Jazmin skated into the rink.

“Everybody!” she exclaimed, almost tripping on her own feet. “I have wonderful news!”

“What is it?” Delfi asked, leaning against the railing.

“You know how my uncle works with television? Well, he said I could borrow his camera, and we could record ourselves here at Jam and Roller! He said he wanted it to be as authentic as possible, which is why he lets us record ourselves!”

“What?” Ramiro, Gastón and Matteo skated up to her. 

“Yeah!”

“We’re gonna be on TV?” Jim asked. 

“We need to come up with good choreography we can perform!” Yam said.

Jazmin returned in the afternoon with the camera.

Everyone swarmed around her, all wanting to be in front of it. 

“One at a time!” Jazmin exclaimed. “Hey! This camera is expensive!”

Luna stood up at a table and made a whistling noise, getting everyone’s attention. “Hey! Everyone who’s gonna roller skate in front of the camera, get to the rink!”

People started hurrying away to the rink.

“Thanks, Luna!” Jazmin said.

Luna did a salute, and then jumped down from the table, also heading to the rink.

Jazmin took a deep breath, and then started recording.

“Hello! Welcome to Jam and Roller! The hottest place in all of Buenos Aires!” She panned over the café. “In here, people meet up to drink milkshakes, catch up with their friends, or just…” She panned the camera to Nina, who was sitting quietly with her book. “Take it easy.”

Gastón suddenly jumped into frame, sitting next to Nina. He gestured for her to look at the camera, and the two waved at it.

“Jam and Roller also has their own band! The roller band!” She walked up to the stage, where Simón, Nico and Pedro were slouching around. “Say hi to the camera, boys!”

Simón, immediately, started to play a tune on his guitar, before smirking into the camera. “Hello there!”

“You’ll see this now before we’re famous!” Pedro said, posing in the camera.

“But Jam and Roller is most famous for its roller skate rink!” Jazmin explained for the camera. “And here is the rink right now! Filled with all the wonderful skaters. Look, there’s Jim and Yam! Hello, girls!”

Jim and Yam skated up to the camera.

“Hello, girls! Tell me a little about yourselves!”

“Well, I’m Jimena, but everyone calls me Jim. I like roller skating and dancing.”

“And I’m Yamila, but everyone calls me Yam. I like roller skating and singing.”

“And you’re best friends?” Jazmin asked.

“Yep!” Jim giggled.

“The best friends ever!” Yam added.

“I love Yam more than… almost my own sister, haha!”

Both of them laughed. 

“Can you show me a little of your skating?” Jazmin asked.

“Of course!” Jim and Yam exclaimed in unison, and went out on the rink, to perform their little choreography.

As they finished, Jazmin panned over to Ámbar, who seemed to have waited to show off her own thing. 

“As you can see, you can skate in pairs. Or solo, like my friend Ámbar!”

That was Ámbar’s cue to come in and skate. She did a fabulous job. 

Jazmin then panned over to Luna. Luna didn’t say anything. She just waved at the camera as she skated by. Still, she made an impression, as it would turn out later when this aired on television.

In the year of 2024, a documentary was made about this old Jam and Roller place. A lot of these teenagers in the film eventually got famous careers, or became famous in other ways. And, it turned out, a majority of them had also been revealed to be part of the LGBTQ+ community. They called in these former teenagers for an interview.

“So, Jim and Yam,” the interviewer said, “A lot of people have said you could notice you two were in love already by this point. Do you agree?”

“Definitely,” Yam chuckled. “We did not officially start dating until years later, but you can see the sparkles already here.”

“Luna. You have never gotten married or even shown an interest to date a lot of people. Is this true?”

“It’s true,” Luna said. “I don’t want to label myself, but I’ve always found romance to be really overrated. And I’m so happy without it!”

“Ámbar, a lot of people have admitted to having you as a lesbian awakening. Apparently, you got the girls going wild. Do you know about this?”

Ámbar laughed. “Yes, people have told me that during the years. While I’m happily married to a man, I do feel attraction to women as well. And maybe I showed that aura more back in my teenage years. I feel flattered that I was people’s awakening.”

Finally, the interviewer gave everyone a final question:

“Do you think there is a reason so many people at Jam and Roller turned out to be queer?”

No one could give a straight answer to that. Pun intended.

[sylviareviar]

"Sure thing!" Cognitive Teddie beamed. "You must be a new guest, right? Welcome, welcome! Everyone here is welcome to enjoy themselves and have fun!" He twirled and posed, the bells on his jester hat jingling joyously. "This ball is a masquerade! People don't show their true faces here, because they simply don't want to, and that's okay! These masks are important walls, meant to protect the guests. Of course, that does make the Saint's job much harder..."

He wandered around, greeting other cognitions who beamed and smiled at him, entertaining other guests for just a moment before returning his attention to Gogo to ensure she was still following.

"This way, friend, this way!" he beamed. "I must introduce you to some of our most esteemed guests! Come, come!"

Dancing just beside the stairs was a small family of three. A very familiar family of three, if the pictures in Sylvia's dorm were anything to go by.

A young white-haired girl, about two years Sylvia's junior, was draped in a beautiful golden gown, her hair adorned with flowers and half-braided. Her freckled cheeks barely peeked out of the swan mask she wore, her eyes cunning and sharp, yet deceptively round and kind. She carried a yellow, fur-lined fan that covered her mouth and nose as she spoke. The way she carried herself, she may as well have been a haughty noble daughter or princess.

"Lucy-chan!" Teddie beamed. "Lucy-chan, come meet the new guest! She's never been to the Saint's Wing before, so I'm being a good bear and showing her around!" He puffed his chest out proudly as he said that.

The young noble girl, Lucy-- Sylvia's younger sister-- turned and appraised Gogo with her sky-blue gaze immediately, then politely lifted a few layers of her gown with one delicate, gloved hand, and curtsied to her.

"Welcome to the Saint's Wing, stranger," Lucy spoke, closing her fan and smiling. It was a guarded, polite smile, a perfect mask of concealment. "My name is Luciela Ester Reviar. Pleased to meet you." The cognition was clearly exaggerating her own name. Sylvia had told Gogo Lucy's real name before: Lucille. She had no middle name. Perhaps it had something to do with the rules of this place.

Behind her was her brother, who must've been around Gogo's age. He was dressed in a dark violet tuxedo with rhinestones resemblind stars strewn randomly across his body. Yet, around his waist was a beautiful sash of purple roses, from which billowed a lovely skirt. It was an amalgamation of masculinity and femininity. Like Lucy, Jack also had white hair, though it was much more unkempt and unruly, sticking out every which way. His face was framed with a dark moon mask.

Beside the boy was a tall, intimidating, bald black man in a pure white tuxedo. Adorned in angel feathers (they looked to be the same feathers as what little stayed attached to Shadow Sylvia's wings, though there was not a single drop of blood on them this time), the man all but towered over almost everyone else in the ballroom. His white butterfly mask highlit a sharp, harsh glare as he stared down at the guest before him.

The brother subtly gestured to the man beside him and whispered in his ear. The man nodded and together, the two slipped away, leaving Lucy to attend to the guest.

Gogo observed the door for a long moment before entering. Was this her and the Phantom Thieves going up against each other? Was this the opinion had about their rivalry. Despite the sinister grins of the Thieves in this depiction, both sides seemed to be portrayed gallantly, like great respect was paid to both sides.

Did this speak to indecisiveness? Or a genuine effort to see the good of both sides?

there's nothing good about me--

Either way, it was clear she respected both Gogo's public persona and the Thieves. But she was not here to merely admire the artwork. She pushed open the door...

It was...absolutely breathtaking here.

Far from the oppressive atmosphere of the cathedral, away from all the false gods and stifling doctrine of a supposed holy place, was a place where people danced with joy, talk with one another, and take in the sights. But why was Shadow!Sylvia not allowed here?

Maybe the real Sylvia felt she had to deprive herself of the genuine pleasures of the world? Why else would the false gods tell her to stay away and she, The Ruler, listen to them? Or, in most likely was the case, she envied the freedom of others, and felt powerless to have her own.

God, she hated how she could relate to that--

"Teddie? You're meant to be Teddie, right?"

She was just surprised Sylvia even knew Teddie. How did they even meet up? And why was Cognition bearing his likeness here?

It was still, obviously, a cognitive being, but at least this one didn't seem to pretend that it was a god. Still, she was meant to be sneaking in, and it kinda floored her when no-one seemed to bat an eye at her appearance. Cognitive!Teddie was the only one so far to acknowledge her. Still, if he was ignorant of her true purpose here, she best keep it that way for now.

"I've never been to the Saint's Wing before. Could you show me around? I think I'd get lost otherwise~"

[dycefic]

Ten Thousand Braids Of Human Hair

No-one ever knows what to expect from the ritual of adulthood before it happens. We know that we are separated, the boys from the girls. We know that what happens is very important. And we know that sometimes, it changes people in a way that’s impossible to explain.

And of course, we know that part of the ritual is cutting off our braids. All the little girls envy the girls with their short hair, newly made women, and I suppose the boys do, too. I’ve seen new-made men posing and preening just as much as the girls do, showing off to the younger boys whose braids are still long.

For some, it’s the only time in their lives that they cut their hair. Others go back again, at some important time. When someone dies, sometimes, or when a child is coming. Times with meaning for them.

I remember how excited I was, when all the girls and boys born in that year were gathered together on midsummer day. There was feasting, and dancing, and casting of bones and reading of fortunes. Then, at sunset, we were divided, the girls from the boys, and led up into the hills.

They led us into a cave, and a wise woman wrapped in a white shawl sat and explained the women’s mysteries to us. That was, for me, something of a let-down. I already knew most of it, from my mother and sisters, and helping with animals on the farm. The woman saw me yawn, and smiled, showing only a few worn teeth. “You already know,” she said, in her cracked old voice. “Yes, many of you already know. But some will not, and you must all know before you go on. For to truly understand what is asked of you there, you must understand the cycle of life and death.”

When she was done, and had answered all the questions the girls had who hadn’t known, she brought us together and led us through a low passage that was as dark as the darkest night. “Each girl, take hold of the hand of the girl before and the girl behind,” she said firmly, taking the hand of the first girl in line. “Walk together in trust, and be not afraid.”

It was strange, that walk in the darkness. Frightening, mysterious, and yet reassuring too, to feel the hands of my friends clasped in mine, to know we made a chain of trust behind our guide. It seemed to go on for a long time, and yet it couldn’t have been too long, for the hill wasn’t so large, and we came out in a great cavern still inside it. And what we saw there… that more than made up for the disappointing beginning.

Every inch of the walls, every inch, was covered in complex weavings. Some were patterns – spirals, knots, circles or intersecting lines, and even I could feel the power in them. There was a great circle of stones in the center, like a huge well, and over that was stretched layer after layer of nets and spell-weavings, held down by pegs driven into the earthen floor. And every single one of them was made of hair.

I saw every colour in the weavings, from as black as my aunt’s crow-wing hair to the snow-white of age to the near-white blonde of some children. Red and brown, too, and all shades between. This was why our hair was cut. For this great, secret magic.

I was so captivated by the weavings that I didn’t realize the boys had joined us until one of them said what I was thinking. “This is why our braids are cut off,” he said quietly. “To make these?”

“Yes,” one of the white-garbed wise-women said. There were several of them here, some old, some young. It was a middle-aged one, with broad grey streaks in her brown hair, who spoke now. She stood before a square, white altar-stone, with candles set in the four corners and a knife lying in the center beside a bowl of what looked like water. “This is the shield of our land. The great magic that protects us from both evil below,” she pointed to the huge well, “and evil outside. This is the wall that shields us, and keeps us safe.” She beckoned the boy who had spoken forward, and he approached her nervously. “And this is the secret of which you must never speak, outside this place, so that no whisper may ever reach our enemies on this plane or the other. Understand, to speak of it is utterly forbidden, and if you do, you will die.” 

She took up the blade, then, sharp and gleaming, and the boy stepped back, but she only took his hand and pricked his finger so that a single drop of blood welled onto the blade. Then she moved behind him, and cut through his braid with the knife, so his hair fell loose just above his shoulders. Then, ceremoniously, she handed him the braid, laying it across both his hands. “Now,” she said, and though she spoke quite softly, the room was so silent that her voice seemed to echo. “Look within yourself, and find what part within yourself you are willing to give up, what power of yours can go into this hair, and be used to protect you and all your people. When you have found it, lay the hair on the altar. If you choose not to make the sacrifice, hand the hair to me. The choice is yours, to be made freely.” She looked out at the rest of us. “All of you are free to choose,” she said gently. “We compel no-one. We only ask that you give a little of yourselves, to serve all, and what you give you may choose, and if you choose to give nothing, that you are free to do.”

The boy stood for what seemed like a long time, and then he sighed and laid the braid on the altar. “It’s done,” he said, and his voice was unsteady, as if he wanted to cry.

“Thank you,” the woman said simply, and she laid a hand on his head in blessing, and then told him to stand on the other side of the altar.

She called up one after another, washing the knife in the bowl between each person, and each stood with his or her braid across his hands, making a choice, then laid the braid on the altar. Until Mari. She was a girl I didn’t like much, but I felt sorry for her when she started to cry. “No! No, I won’t!” she cried, stepping back and thrusting the braid towards the wise woman. “I won’t!”

“Very well,” the wise woman said calmly. “That is your choice.” She turned, and dropped the braid into a bucket behind her. “Go and stand with the others, then.”

Mari took a step towards the group, then looked at the bucket. “What are you going to do with my hair?” she asked, sounding nervous but suspicious at the same time.

The wise woman shrugged. “Throw it away,” she said calmly. “It’s of no use.”

Mari bit her lip, and went to stand with the others, but her eyes didn’t seem able to leave that bucket.

When it was my turn, I was shaking with nerves and excitement. I went to stand before her, had my finger pricked, and my braid cut through. My head felt so strange, with the curls coming loose, so light, and when she laid the braid over my hands I felt dizzy when I looked at it.

I cannot truly explain in words what happened then. I can only say that I knew, without knowing how I knew, that I could put some part of myself, my power, into my braid, and that the importance of what I gave up would determine the magical strength that hair would have when it was used.  It could be anything. A talent, a memory, any part of myself.

I considered for a long moment, but I’d already known what it would be. I’d had time to think about it, while the others had their turns. Two years ago, sickness came to our village. I gave it my grief for my mother and my brother and sisters who died, the sorrow that had cut me like a knife within, the pain that had haunted me ever since. It was the strongest thing in me, the strongest thing I had to give.

I felt it go, and my body felt as light as my cropped head, all of a sudden. I hadn’t forgotten them, or the love I’d had for them, but the pain and weight of sorrow was all gone… and the hair across my palms felt much heavier. I laid it on the altar, and felt the hand on my head in blessing, and went to stand with the others.

No-one else refused, that year. Mari was still snuffling when we went out from the cave, all together, and walked back to the village. Dawn came, while we walked, and we were all tired and yawning.

Dern, one of my oldest friends, came to walk beside me. “What did you give up?” he whispered.

“We’re not supposed to talk about it,” I whispered back.

“We’re not supposed to talk about the ritual,” he countered. He looked sad, but a bit relieved too. “So I’ll just say… I don’t think I’ll play the drum anymore.”

That startled me. Dern had always been so good at drumming, playing so people could dance. “That?”

He shrugged. “It was just something I had a knack for. I’ll miss it, but… I didn’t need it.”

I nodded slowly. “I think,” I said, looking up at the pale sky, and listening to the birds starting to sing, “that I won’t be sad anymore.”

“That’s good.” He took my hand and squeezed it. He knew how heavy my grief had weighed on me.

We never spoke of it again, any of us. But none of us felt quite the same about Mari, after that day. I understood now why sometimes one boy, or one girl, or two or three, would seem to draw away from the others after the ritual. They hadn’t been willing to give something. They had kept their power to themselves, instead of making a sacrifice. It was hard not to feel different about someone, knowing that.

This valley has been peaceful and prosperous all my life. Free of the weight of my grief, I picked up the threads of my life again and became a hunter.

Ten years later, Mari went missing, vanished while she was out collecting mushrooms. All we hunters went looking for her, assuming she was lost or injured.

I found her, at dawn of the next morning, at the very edge of the great valley. She was sitting on a fallen tree, and she was crying.

I went over to her, sitting on the log beside her. “Are you all right?”

“No.” She wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “No, I’m not all right. I’ve never been all right since the ritual, and you know that and now… now it’s worse.”

“Worse how?”

“Because…” She swallowed hard, then stood. “Come. I’ll show you.”

She led me towards the top of the ridge. “I went over. I was going to leave and not come back. I couldn’t stand it, knowing… knowing everyone knew. But there were… were men. They chased me, and I… ran back. They were laughing, and shouting threats, they said they’d…” She shuddered, and I put an arm around her shoulders. “But then they crossed into the valley, and…” She stopped, and pointed.

There were four of them, all dead. One had been cut into pieces, as if by fine wires. Another had been hanged from a tree. A third seemed to have fallen and broken his head open on a stone. The fourth looked untouched, though his eyes were wide open in terror and the earth showed where he’d kicked and flailed before he died. When I examined the body, though, I found that his mouth and throat were stuffed with handfuls of hair. He’d been smothered with it.

There was more hair tangled around the ankles of the man who’d fallen, and twisted into the rope that hung the one in the tree. While I examined them, I heard a trembling voice. “What happened to them?”

I looked around. Another man stood, just over the ridge. He was dirty, and looked as unsavoury as the dead men, but he also looked terrified. “I was behind them, when they… they all just died. I didn’t see what did it, but they all died. Was it a demon?”

“This valley is protected,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “To enter here with ill intentions is… unwise.”

Then I turned my back on him, and went to Mari. She was crying again. “I wouldn’t give,” she sobbed. “I was scared of losing part of myself, and I wouldn’t give it up, and… and it protected me anyway. It saved me even though I wouldn’t help.”

“Of course. When we all did it, we did it for everyone. Not just everyone who contributed.”

“But no-one will ever forget that I didn’t,” Mari moaned. “I wish I had, I do wish I had, but now…”

“So go back.” I pulled her braid. “It’s been growing for ten years. That’s long enough to go back, and nearly dying in the woods is a good enough reason.”

She stared at me, and slowly touched her hair. “Go back?” she whispered.

“Why not? People do.”

“People do,” she whispered. “I… thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Let’s go home and get some sleep first, though.”

The next time I saw Mari, her hair didn’t reach her shoulders, and her eyes were bright with relief. It was fear that had held her back, and it had weighed on her mind all that time. She was happy, after that.

I’ve given my hair three time. The second time was when my only child, born late, came healthy into the world. The third was when my wife died, and I came to the caverns to become a wise woman.

So you see, I understand how you feel. I know that for some it’s a hard choice, a frightening choice, one you can’t make when you’re so young and unprepared. We all know that, that’s why there’s no scolding when someone refuses. Some people never do it, and it doesn’t bother them. It’s what’s right for them. Others, like Mari, like you, it weighs on.

But it’s never too late. When you’re ready, when you know what it is you have to give and can give it freely, come back. We’ll be ready then, with the knife, and the blessing.

Only you can choose what you give to your people, and only you can know when or if it’s right to give it. But it’s never too late.

There, don’t cry. You’ll know when it’s right.

---

Note:

The phrase ‘ten thousand braids of human hair’ occurred to me, and I had to find a story to fit the title and the symbolism – what would make ten thousand people cut off their hair? What power would that hair have, and who would put it to use? Hair has great symbolic weight in many cultures, and magical significance as well. The braids had to mean something… and I knew that the choice to make the sacrifice had to be freely made, or it would taint everything. I hope you like how it came out.

[doevademe]

As a prompt: Percy comes back home to find that little Emmy did a makeover to Nico giving him surprisingly well done pigtail buns (like a small bun in each side) and glittery make up on his face, resulting in a brain melt on Percy's part. Since you're going to hit us with angst tsunami these days, I figured I could ask for some fluff, possibly ending with some spice ? Percy s just a simp for any style change Nico makes. Dude's basically a model, can pull off anything. Now I got images of him cosplaying Jojos, pose and all. 🤯 man, think of the potential.

Percy has been used to chaos since before he found out he was a demigod.

When teachers hate you, stuff explodes unexpectedly, and strangers and weird creatures no one notices look at you with scorn and try to kill you all your life, you have to just learn to take it in and work with what you have.

Still, he didn't expect to see his four year old little boy running and hugging him as soon as he opened the door, trembling in fear.

"Da, she got pa! She got pa!" Asher cried, burying his face against Percy's pant leg. "She's coming for me next!"

Percy blinked, his first instinct was to reach for his sword, but he didn't want to scare his son further.

"What happened?" He asked, trying to keep his cool despite the fear gripping at his heart. "What happened to your papa? Where's your sister?"

"In her room!" He wailed, still terrified. "I said no, and pa took my place!"

Percy's panic started to fade as he realized the 'she' that got Nico was none other than their daughter.

"What did she do this time, Ash?" He asked, resisting the urge to laugh at his youngest.

"She asked grandpa for weird paints and brushes, and he brought them today!" He explained, stumbling over his words. "She wanted to use them on me, and, and—"

"So it was Hades," he said, chuckling. "It's okay Ash, you can always say no, your papa and I will stand by you when you do."

He lifted him and sat him down on the couch. He went to the stairs.

"You're going in?!" his son asked, scandalized.

Percy nodded.

"I have to see the damage," he explained. "Emmy might be good at painting on paper, but I doubt your papa makes a good canvas."

Asher just hid on the couch, making Percy roll his eyes. Asher could look a zombie in the eye and order him to dance ballet, but was scared of his sister painting on his face.

He opened the door, expecting to see Nico looking like an art project, with splotches of red, blue and green all over his face.

What he found instead was that Asher really needed to expand his vocubulary.

The 'paint' Hades had bought his little princess had been make up, and the brushes were actual, professional grade, combs and clips. Just what was Hades thinking?

But the biggest surprise was his husband. Despite being 6, Emilia had a good taste in colors and conbinations, having picked colors that accentuated Nico's face (though with excessive amounts of glitter), and a lipstick that made his already full lips look even meatier and shinier. His nails had been done in a dark blue that almost looked black and his hair... gods, his hair had been done in pigtails that just added to the whole picture.

"Hey there," he managed to say stupidly. Nico glared at him.

"Laugh and you'll be going to Father's place," he said, mindful of their daughter's presence, and Percy knew he couldn't tell him how the makeover actually made him feel.

"I would never," he said in a posh voice, making Emilia giggle. "You're the prettiest boy around, Ni!"

"He is, isn't he?" Emilia said in wonder. "Papa said I was too young for this, so I wanted to show him I could do this by trying it on him."

"Turns out, my father is not a complete lunatic," Nico sighed. "Emilia told him she wanted to work on a salon and make people pretty. He made her promise not to use it on herself until she's older."

Percy sighed in relief. Truth was, Nico's makeover was making his mind a little sluggish. He hadn't even considered the implications of a six year old wanting to use makeup.

He turned to his daughter.

"Well, your first job was a success, sweetie," he said honestly. "Your papa looks fantastic!"

Nico grimaced, but nodded all the same.

"If your dad says he likes it, then it must be true," he said. "Besides, I only want to look pretty for him."

Emilia giggled again and hugged him.

"I know that!" she said. "Now can I try on Ashy?"

"No," Percy said at the same time as his husband. He knelt down. "Your brother doesn't want to, and you have to respect that."

"What if I show him how papa turned out? The he'd want to!"

Nico pinched his brow, but nodded.

"You can try," he said. "But remember if he says no, it means no, Emmy."

"I know, papa," she droned before running out of the room, shouting, "Ashy, I'm done! Papa looks so pretty!"

Nico stood up to follow her, only to be caught by Percy, who grabbed his arm and pinned him against the wall.

"Percy, what are you doing?" He hissed, glancing at the door.

"I... may have discovered I have a thing for pigtails," he said, voice husky. "More to grab, you know?"

Nico gulped, his pupils dilating at his husband's suggestion.

"I... I could keep this a little longer..." he muttered.

"The lipstick too?" Percy asked hopefully, fingers wrapping around Nico's belt loops.

"I—"

"Papa!" Emilia cried from the stairs. "Ashy need to see you!"

"Coming!" Nico said, shoving Percy away. Percy sighed in disappointment, but Nico looked at him. "This is father's fault."

Percy blinked.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"He bought Emilia that salon kit," he said. "So he won't mind the kids staying the night at his palace, maybe dolling him and Persephone up."

Percy got it immediately. He gave Nico a lascivious smirk.

"I love how you think, Love," he said.

"Papa!"

"I'm on my way, Principessa!"

[dollslayer]

Champagne Problems

Bartender!Bucky x Reader

Summary: When your ex-boyfriend makes a surprise appearance at your sister's wedding you find help from an unexpected source.

W/C: 4,642

Warnings: NO MINORS, Smut, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, swearing, alcohol consumption

A/N: Hey! I know it's been a minute (sorry), I wrote this for @saiyanprincessswanie's writing challenge using the bartender au! If you like this please reblog and comment and check out my other fics!! Cheers!

Main Masterlist

You sighed internally before slapping on a smile for yet another group picture. Your bridesmaid dress was itchy and you already regretted spending the entire night in it, as the reception was just starting. But it was your sister’s day and you decided that if what she really wanted was for you to wear this itchy monstrosity to honor her wedding then damn it, you’d do it. So you leaned in close with the rest of the wedding party and posed some more.

When the photographer had finished with his photos you were ushered to the family table and wedged between your mother and your aunt. You mentally cursed your sister for seating you with them because they were going to spend the entire night trying to set you up with someone while simultaneously lamenting that you’d dumped your boyfriend of 4 years just a month earlier. Your mother wanted grandchildren so badly, you didn’t know why she couldn’t just settle to get them from your sister.

“Sweetheart, you and Steve were so good together though! Remember when he surprised you at Christmas with that puppy? I don’t know how you let a man like that go…” Your mom chided.

You grabbed the attention of a passing server and grabbed the champagne off their tray. If you were going to have this conversation again you needed liquid courage to do so. You downed it in three sips and your mom scoffed at you.

“Mom, we've been over this. I didn’t ask him to do that, we agreed we weren’t ready for a dog. Ugh, oh my god, anyways, we just didn’t work together. Sometimes things don’t work out, Mom. You’ll still get grandkids, just not from me.” You patted her on the shoulder but she just pursed her lips and looked past you to your aunt.

You wanted nothing more than to get wasted but you couldn’t do that to your sister. You wouldn’t get blackout drunk, but you were definitely getting drunk tonight. The reception was being held in a hotel and the wedding party had a block of rooms reserved so it’s not like you had to drive. You just had one thing to do before you did that.

The moment you’d been dreading had finally arrived, the toast. You held your freshly topped-off glass of champagne and brought your fork to it to get everyone’s attention. Someone handed you the mic and you hesitated before taking it and nervously cleared your throat.

By what you assumed could only be the grace of God you managed to deliver the perfect toast about finding the right person and soulmates and anything else you might find in a hallmark card with only minor stumbles. Everyone clapped and your brother-in-law wiped a stray tear and everyone finally dug into dinner. You just hoped that would mean your mother would be quiet about Steve for the next 20 minutes and then you could escape to the open bar.

____

You almost made it through dinner scott-free and sat back to watch your sister’s first dance. Just when you thought you were in the clear it was your aunt that threw a wrench in your plans. She was three glasses of wine deep and had that glassy look in her eye when she grabbed your elbow and pulled you closer. She spoke to you in a low voice while trying not to fumble her words.

“Listen kiddo, I know your mom is hard on you about Stevie but she just wants what’s best for you. What you two had… it was so good even I liked him! I don’t like anybody y’know that. So.. so why don’t you jus’ give ‘im another chance, make your mom happy? Couldn’t be that bad, could it? Maybe he’ll even… surprise you”

You mentally blocked out her words halfway through her speech, hoping neither of you would remember it by the end of the night. Right now you just had to get her to stop so you could get away from the table. You didn’t think you could take one more second of being shamed for leaving Steve.

You smiled sweetly and nodded in understanding towards her words.

“I know, Aunt Linda. I know. Sometimes things happen, I love mom but I’ll find someone else.”

With that you patted her on the shoulder and took off in search of the bar.

There were two bars and you wanted to go to the less crowded one. Looking around you had spotted it just past the dancefloor and made a beeline. Weaving through the now open dance floor and escaping the invitations to join your family you finally made it and leaned heavily against the countertop with a sigh.

“Rough night?” Your eyes follow the gruff yet amused voice and find that it belongs to a very handsome man with a defined jaw, clear blue eyes, and long hair that was tied back.

You smiled and rolled your eyes.

“You don’t know that half of it. Nothing like a wedding to remind you how single you are” You joked.

“Ah. Yeah, that’ll do it. That’s rough. You look like you need a drink, what can I get you?”

“Dealer’s choice. Just no vodka.” You requested.

He smirked and nodded, perusing the lines of bottles that were in front of him. He bit his lip as he concentrated on what to make and you tried not to stare. You watched him get to work on your drink and couldn’t help but notice the way you could see his muscles move underneath his dress shirt.

He turned back around and proudly presented you with something fizzy in a highball glass.

“My own concoction, I even used the non-watered down liquor. Just for you” He says with a wink.

You try your best to hide your shy smile and accept the drink.

“Thank you, how sweet of you.” You tell him.

“It’s nothin’. So how’s a gal like you single? If you don’t mind my asking. Seems pretty impossible to me.”

You're caught somewhere between flattery and embarrassment and just hope it doesn't show on your face. You take a long sip of your drink and gear up to answer him.

“Well, I just got out of a 4 year relationship, actually. He’s really sweet but he always had a tendency to steamroll my needs and just do whatever he was going to do. Eventually that shit adds up.” You sigh.

“Like for example - last year we had talked about getting a dog and I said I wasn’t ready, we’re just both way too busy and then on Christmas day he shows up with this puppy! And then I’m the villain for telling him no! The puppy ended up going to a good home but he did stuff like that all the time. It just became too much. Anyways now my mom won’t get off my ass about leaving him.” You shook your head.

“A puppy? Wow, that’s… intense. That’s a lot, I’m sorry. You finish that drink and I’ll pour us both a shot” He laughed.

You nodded in agreement and downed the rest of the cocktail. He held up two shot glasses and extended one to you.

“A toast, to… wait. I don’t even know your name!”

His shoulders shook as he laughed and he answered you.

“I’m James but you can call me Bucky” You made a face at that.

“What kinda name is Bucky?” You asked before giving him your own name.

“Whatever, I’ve got two shots of tequila, you want one or not?” How could you say no?

“A toast,” You continued, “To you and your weird name, Bucky.”

He laughed and you clinked your glasses together, then against the counter before downing them in one go. You tried your best not to make a face and looked up at Bucky to find him extending you the lime chaser, which you took gratefully.

“Hoo… I could use like, 3 more of those to get through tonight. So, how’d you get into bartending?”

“I needed somethin’ to put me through school and I figured this beats stripping. Though, with some of the customers we get sometimes I’m not so sure”

You laughed at that and Bucky went on to tell you anecdotes of all the crazy people he’s had to serve, disastrous weddings, and the time he got a lapdance from the bride herself. You hadn’t even realized how much time had passed but you were enjoying talking to him, forgetting your mission to be drunk.

The two of you kept swapping stories and were getting to know each other a bit more. He let you vent about Steve and just listened, it was refreshing to talk to someone and not be told what it is that you should be wanting. When you pictured the night you didn’t picture yourself confiding in the bartender tonight but if you were honest you were enjoying yourself. It beat awkwardly dancing with your family and enduring more disappointed remarks from your family.

You had hoped you could hide out at the bar and spend the entire night unscathed when the double doors to the ballroom opened. Your heartbeat in your ears as time slowed down around you as a blond head of hair made its way through the archway. Your laughter died in your throat when Baby blue eyes found you across the room and you froze like a deer in headlights. No. Nononononono this isn’t happening.

Time has somehow come to a halt while simultaneously hurtling forward since you can’t get yourself unstuck from this moment yet fail to realize that Steve is now standing right in front of you. His hair is swept back perfectly and he flashes you that million dollar smile of his that shows off his dimples perfectly. You scold yourself for checking him out but damn did he always clean up nice.

“Hey, sweetheart” he says shyly, as if he’s not crashing your sister’s wedding to get with you.

“What…? What are you doing… here?” You ask quietly, trying to avoid a scene.

Before he can answer you your mom comes up behind Steve and squeezes his shoulders tight, all with a big, bright smile on her face. Of course. How did I not see this coming?

“You made it!” She exclaimed as she leaned up to kiss his cheek.

“Of course, sorry to have missed the ceremony but there’s still plenty to celebrate, right?” He asked with his signature boyish smirk.

Shock was still in full effect on your features as you stood stock still. But that shock was soon giving way to anger as you slowly pieced together everything that was happening. Your mom had brought back Steve to try and get you back together and Steve was steamrolling you again.

“I… I, can’t. I can’t-” You started

“Sweetheart, how many of those have you had? You need some water.” Steve motions to the drink in your hand and you feel the anger running through your veins about to take over. You have to move this out of the room. Now.

“Why don’t we move this to the hall?” You suggested quietly.

You didn’t give him a chance to respond before you started moving towards the exit but you did spare one last panicked glance towards Bucky. He looked confused and his brows were quirked in a way that made him look upset, almost. You sent him a pleading look before turning back around and preparing yourself to deal with this shitshow that had slowly unfolded before you.

Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out. Hold. You got this. Your hand begins to push the door open when Steve’s much larger one covers yours and gets the job done. An action that you once would’ve thought was sweet, one that you would’ve made you swoon, even, is currently pissing you off.

You two made your way to the hallway and you looked around before you started in on him.

“Okay, what the hell, Rogers? Crashing my sister’s wedding? Really?! I don’t give a shit if my mom put you up to this I-”

“Sweetheart, please. She thought you might be having second thoughts and maybe us seeing each other would… patch things up. We just want what’s best for you, sweetheart” Steve attempted to console you, reaching out to try and rub your arm but you pulled back.

“No! I am so sick of you running me over! You never listened to me or what I had to say and this is exactly why I broke up with you, Steve! You’re being so fucki-”

“Hey, babe, everything okay out here?” Bucky’s voice surprised you but not as much as his lips pressing a kiss into your hair and his arms wrapping around your waist.

You had to crane your neck to look back and up at him. It took all of two seconds for you to piece together what you’d hoped was the truth. Bucky raised his eyebrows at you as if to say “come on” and in all your desperation you went with it. You supposed that his formal uniform made him pass for a regular guest.

“I, ah, yeah, yes. Steve here was just leaving, right?” You asked him.

Steve raised his eyebrows in a stunned expression, mouth slightly open in disbelief. His hand reached out towards your shoulder but Bucky pulled you back gently.

“Doll, are you serious? Who even is this guy? Does your mom know about this?”

“No, she doesn’t. It’s… new…” You told him.

“Right,” Bucky cuts in, “It’s new so we weren’t telling anyone just yet but she figured I should at least be here for the reception”

“Seriously?” Steve scoffs, “Man bun? What does he have that I don’t? C’mon, you know what you and I have is real.”

“What you and I have is over, Steve. You never listened to me, always pushed me further than I was ready for. We’re done, it’s over. I’m sorry for whatever Mom told you”

Steve took a harsh breath inwards and you watched him try to decide whether he should walk away or blow up. Based off of the veins popping in his forehead, he was opting to blow up.

“Listen, I don’t know what you’re up to but-”

“She said it’s over, punk. Move along” Bucky cut in. He took a protective step in front of you and pushed his shoulders back, squaring up to Steve. Steve seethed quietly and you two exchanged very tense glances.

“I’m telling your mother about this. I doubt she’ll be happy to hear you brought some random person to your sister’s wedding.” Steve spat.

He walked past the two of you and bumped shoulders harshly with Bucky. Bucky’s jaw tensed and his grip on your waist tightened but he didn’t retaliate. Instead he took a step back to get a proper look at you.

“You okay?”

“Why did you do that? You didn’t have to.”

“I know, but you looked like you could really use the help.”

“Well… thank you. I appreciate it, more than you know. I don’t know what would’ve happened if you weren’t there.” You laughed to yourself a little and added, “We’re not even together 5 minutes and you already have all my emotional baggage”

Bucky laughed at that and shook his head.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it. I’ve got some crazy exes too. So what now? You going back in?”

You became a little flustered at that but moved past it with a sheepish grin.

“No,” You shook your head, “I think it’s best for everyone if I just go up to my room and avoid a whole scene.”

“Well at least let me walk you up. I wouldn’t put it past that creep to follow you.”

“What about the bar?”

“We’re overstaffed and the party’s winding down anyways. They’ll get on without me”

“Alright then” You accepted and started off towards the elevators.

You two were standing in the elevator waiting for the doors to close when you spotted the doors to the ballroom open. Your mother was looking around, her face a picture of anger. Lucky for you the doors closed before she could look in your direction and you let out a sigh of relief.

“You know as far as fake boyfriends go I’d say you’re pretty good”

“Just good? C’mon I had that guy on the ropes.”

“Yeah alright,” You relented with a grin.

You exited the elevator car and made your way down the hallway until finally you reached your door. You fished your keycard out of your wallet and turned to Bucky.

“Hey… do you wanna… maybe come in? Hang out? I know you’ve got work but if you’re overstaffed maybe…” You trailed off. There was a beat of silence and you felt regret instantly, thinking you’ve asked too much of him. “Y’know what nevermind, you don’t have to, I’m sorry I-”

“I’d love to hang out with you, if you’re okay with that. Plus it’s probably better I wait to get back until the wedding’s over. Can’t really show my face as your boyfriend and then get back behind the bar, can I?” He said with a soft smile.

“Suppose you’re right,” You swiped the card and cracked open the door.

You stepped inside and felt like you could finally breathe again. You kicked off your heels and went to turn on the lights. You reached back to get the zipper of your dress but couldn’t quite get there.

“Will you get my zipper?” You asked Bucky. He nodded and came closer to you.

You could feel his warmth radiating from him when he was this close. Your nostrils filled with the heady scent of his aftershave. He smells so good. He unzipped you halfway and left the rest for you.

You thanked him and grabbed your change of clothes and headed to the bathroom. Relieved to finally be free of the itchy monstrosity of a bridesmaids dress you sighed and put on a tank top and pair of shorts. You realized the tank top showed a little more of your cleavage than intended but you shrugged it off and exited the bathroom.

Bucky’s eyes landed on you and he took a sharp breath in but tried to play it cool. It half worked, you caught him staring a little bit and giggled to yourself. When you looked at him again he was undoing his tie and the first two buttons of his shirt. Wonder what he’d look like if he unbuttoned just a few more… You stopped yourself in that line of thinking and joined him on the couch.

“I think your phone’s gonna zap itself into an early grave with the way it’s been going off” Bucky said as he pointed to your phone on the table.

You picked it up to find you had several missed calls from your mother, one from Steve, and one very long text message from him that was already inducing a headache. You opened it, forgetting you had read receipts on. Oops. You weren’t going to read this now in front of Bucky, so you shut it off and put it aside.

“So how are you feelin’?” He asked.

“Better now that I’m out that damned dress. As for my family, they'll get over themselves. I don’t know why who I’m dating is such a big deal to them anyways.”

“You do look more comfy now that you’ve changed. If you don’t mind me sayin’ you’re just as gorgeous now as you were all dolled up”

You felt heat flood your cheeks instantly and eked out a thank you. You and Bucky talked for an hour more or so and in that time you’d found yourself nodding off with your head on his chest. On instinct he brought your whole body closer to him and put his arm around you. If you were less sleepy you’d be embarrassed but right now you didn’t care.

Bucky had moved slightly and inadvertently jolted you awake. You shot up and realized that you’d cuddled your way into Bucky’s side and now the embarrassment was catching up with you. You instantly scooted back to give him some space.

“Sorry, I uh, didn’t mean to cuddle you” You said while avoiding his gaze.

You felt a hand on your thigh and finally looked up to find him smirking at you.

“I didn’t mind it. It’s getting late though, I should get back.”

You were slightly disappointed but nodded your head. You rose and followed him to the door. He went for the handle but turned around when you grabbed his hand. He stepped away from the door and was in your personal space. You looked up at him with a shaky breath.

“Thank you, again, for what you did. It was really sweet of you.” He smiled down at you and brought one hand to your face. Oh God, I didn’t prepare for this. Your heart was beating just a little harder as you looked into his clear blue eyes.

“For you? Anytime. I had a really fun time with you tonight.”

“Me too.”

With that his other hand came up to cup your face and he kissed you sweetly. It wasn’t until you kissed him back that he pulled away.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to, I don’t wanna make you uncomf-”

You grabbed him by the shirt collar and brought him in for another kiss. This time more demanding but just as sweet. He let out a small moan and you swear you could’ve melted. His tongue explored your mouth while his hands moved their way down your body and brought you even closer to him. You could feel that he was hard and it only made you want him more.

Without breaking the kiss you started to move backwards towards the bed until finally you were just at the edge of it. You broke apart for air and searched his eyes only to find his pupils blown wide in lust. You cupped him through his pants and he groaned. He was big. Maybe even bigger than Steve.

“We don’t have to do anythin’ you don’t want to do,” He breathed out. You shook your head and kissed him again.

“I want you, I’m sure.” You panted out.

“I don’t have a condom”

“Doesn’ matter, I’m on the pill” You told him. With that his hands were up your tank top and you’d helped him to remove it. He worked on his shirt next and while he fumbled with the buttons you took off the rest of your clothing.

Bucky was every bit as devastating as you’d thought he’d be and you let out a genuine sigh. His toned muscles rippled throughout his arms and torso and you watched him remove his boxers and you’re not entirely sure your jaw hadn’t dropped. He noticed you gawking and chuckled as he leaned down to join you on the bed.

“See somethin’ you like?”

He didn’t give you the chance to answer though, he pushed you backwards onto the bed and kissed you again, this time trailing his kisses all the way down your body. He stopped and took his time to admire each of your breasts, licking and biting your nipples. You’d gasped in surprise and pleasure. He moved his way down finally to your pussy and looked up at you.

“Can I? You could only nod and let out a shaky breath as you sat up on your elbows and watched him get to work. He kissed and caressed your thighs until finally his fingers were prodding at your entrance. He groaned at how wet you were and pushed two fingers in. You let out an obscene moan and your hands went into his locks. His tongue lapped at your clit before he sucked on it, all the while pumping his fingers in and out of you in search of your G-spot.

You’d pulled his hair out of his bun and guided his tongue where he needed to be. Finally getting the right angle you were whimpering in pleasure, back arched almost to a point of pain. He’d finally found the spot he’d been looking for and your eyes shut closed in pleasure.

“Please,” you begged, “Please don’t stop I’m so close”

You pushed his head harder against you and his fingers sped up. It was only a matter of moments until your toes were curling in pleasure and you writhed on the bed in the aftershock of your orgasm. Bucky continued to lap away at you until you pushed him off. He came back up to eye level with you and had a wolfish grin.

“Who knew you’d make such noises? God it was so hot”

You pulled him in for another kiss and reached down to grab his cock. You pumped it a few times before you moved down to return the favor when he stopped you. You looked up at him with brows pinched in concern.

“Don’ worry about me, I just wanna feel you”

He moved you beneath him and you spread your legs apart for him. You were still sensitive in your post-high when his tip brushed your clit but you didn’t mind the bolt of pleasure. He aligned himself with your entrance and looked you in the eye as he pushed all the way inside of you slowly. You let out an involuntary moan, trying to accommodate his full length.

“You good?” He asked.

“I’m good, you’re just...big” He smirked at that.

“Can I move or do you need a second?”

“No, you can move, please move.”

One hand on your hip and the other on your breast he started thrusting in and out of you at a steady pace. You swore you could feel every bump and ridge of him with every inch he put into you. His pace picked up and he kissed the column of your neck, finding the one spot that drove you crazy. Your small mewls turned to full moans and he began fucking you harder.

“‘M not gonna last much longer” He told you. You didn’t say anything in response, just brought him in for another kiss and grabbed a handful of his ass to push him further inside you. He chuckled at that and took the hint.

He was going the hardest he had so far and you were holding on for dear life and loving every minute of it. His panting breaths were heavy in your ears and you reached down to toy with your clit so you’d cum together. His thrusts were getting a little sloppier and your hand moved faster, quickly approaching both your peaks. He let out an almost pornographic moan as he came, He fucked you through his orgasm and not a moment later you came for a second time. Your bodies melded together as you rode out the last waves of each other’s orgasms.

Finally Bucky stopped and held himself with one hand, trying to catch his breath. You were slightly dazed, trying to compute how your night had ended up like this. Bucky rolled over onto the bed and you felt the mess between your thighs. You looked over to him with a hazy smile.

“So, I know we’re doin’ things a little backwards here but, maybe I could take you out some time? If you want?”

Your smile grew even wider and your heart felt so light in this moment.

“I’d like that”

You didn’t know what tomorrow would hold or how to even begin cleaning up the mess with your family. You’d deal with it all in the morning, for now you’d just bask in the afterglow with your fake boyfriend and be grateful for chance meetings.

[secondgenerationnerd]

Movie Night

Let’s be honest, we all wanna see this 😂😂😂

———————————

Bruce has come a long way since that fateful night in the alley. From a scared, lonely little boy to a proud father, loving husband, hero to his city, even a grandfather! His parents would be proud. He knows that.

“Hey there, handsome.” Selina greets her husband as she heads to the garage.

“Where are you going, Cat?” He can make a guess based on her plain, dark clothes. “Or I should say, which museum are you going to?”

“Oh, Bat,” The thief winks at him, “You should know by now. Telling spoils the fun. Oh! The kids are in the movie room.”

“….Is anyone dead?”

“Not yet.” She blows him a kiss before disappearing.

To call them kids isn’t exactly fair. Ranging from early thirties to barely 5 years old, many had joined their family. Like any family, they’ve had their issues, conflicts, and disagreements. But they’re still family.

That being said, the last time the kids watched a movie together, Damian almost stabbed them when a dog died.

Okay, other families don’t necessarily have to worry about weapons being drawn but….yeah, not really a good argument there.

Opening the door to the viewing room, Bruce barely has time to register the movie they’re watching —Enchanto, Helena must be in here—when Stephanie gets up. She swings Helena up, singing along with Pepa, “~We don’t talk about Bruno, no, no, no, we don’t talk about Bruno—But! It was my wedding day.~”

Cass pops up behind her girlfriend, “~It was our wedding day.~”

“~We were getting married and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.~”

“~No clouds allowed in the sky.~” Cass tickles her little sister’s neck, making Helena giggle.

“~Bruno walks in with a mischievous grin—~“

“~Thunder!~”

Stephanie fake pouts, turning from her girlfriend, “~You telling this story or am I?~”

Cass pulls Steph back by her belt loops, kissing her, “~I’m sorry, mi vida, go on.~”

“~Bruno says it looks like rain~,” Steph swings Helena around.

“~Why did he tell her!!~” Cass takes her little sister, kissing the five year old’s face. Helena giggles and wraps her arms around her neck. The older girl rises to her tiptoes, pirouetting to earn another laugh.

“~In doing so he flood my brain~”

“~Abuela gets the umberllaaaaaaa~”

“~Married in a hurricane!!~”

Cass and Steph wag their fingers at Helena, singing together, “~We don’t talk about Bruno-no-no. We don’t talk about Brunoooooo~”

“~Hey!~” Dick jumps up, 14 -year-old Mar’i with him, “~Grew to live in fear of Bruno stuttering or stumbling, I can always hear him sort of muttering or mumbling, I associate him with the sound of falling sand—ch, ch, ch.~” The Graysons pretend to throw sand to each side. Mar’i bunches her skirt, the edge of her bike shorts showing, to copy the movie as her father sings, “~It’s a heavy gift so humbling, always left Abuela and the family fumbling, grappling with prophecies they couldn’t understand.~” The two jump onto the snack counter, spinning to face the others, “~Do you understand?~”

“~SEVEN FOOT FRAME!~” Jason appears seemingly from nowhere, snatching Helena from their sister. Helena shrieks with joy as he holds her upside down over his shoulder, “~ Rats along his back, when he calls your name it all fades to black. Yeah he sees your dreams and feasts on your screams.~”

“~Hey!~” All his kids laugh and dance around the room, “~We don’t talk about Bruno-no-no, (Oh noooooo) We don’t talk about Bruno!~”

Surprisingly, Damian steals Helena from Jason and half sings, “~He told me my fish would die the next day DEAD!~”

Mar’i flies over Damian, taking Helena and spins her around. Duke does something like a tango with Tim, “~He told me I’d grow a gut and just like he saaaaaaid~” 

“~He said that all my hair would disappear, now look at my he-eaaad~” Tim makes a indignant noise when Jason pulls the third Robin’s hood over his head.

All the kids move together, striking various poses, “~YOUR FATE IS SEALED WHEN YOUR PROPHECY IS READ~”

Helena hangs onto Mar’i’s hands, the Tamaranean lowering her aunt slowly, Damian below them for safety.

“~He told me the life of my dreams would be promised, and some day be mine.~”  The little girl manages to flip around, something she no doubt learned from her oldest brother. “~He told me my power would grow, like the grapes that thrive on the vine.~”

“~Oye, Mariano’s on his way~” 

As Mar’i lowers Helena into Damian’s arms, Dick dramtically falls back into Cass and Tim’s arms, “~He told me the man of my dreams would be just out of reach, betrothed to another! It’s like I hear him now!~”

“~Hey, Sis,~” Helena wags her finger at Cass, who blows a kiss to her, “~I want, not a sound outta you!~”

 “~I CAN HEAR HIM NOW!!!~”

“~Um, Bruno...~” Duke looks at his siblings, “~Yeah, about that Bruno...I need to know about Bruno! Gimme the truth and whole truth, Bruno!~” 

“~TIM-MY, YOUR BOYFRIEND’S HERE! (TIME FOR DINNER!)~” 

As they all dance around the viewing room, singing their various parts, oblivious to Bruce at the door, the seasoned hero feels a twinge of pride. Not all their stories have had happy beginnings, but they have these moments. Helena shrieking with joy as she’s tossed between various siblings. Dick spins his daughter around, Mar’i laughing as he does. Cass kissing Stephanie and smiling so wide she can’t anymore. 

Naturally, Bruce takes pictures. For future reminders, that’s all. Definitely won’t get brought up at future movie nights...weddings...a reminder when they’re fighting. 

“Daddy!” Helena runs to him, wrapping her arms around his leg, “Come watch with us.”

Shit. The others see the phone in his hand, pointed at them. Not a word passes between them. Barely a look at each other. But Jason says exactly what they’re thinking.

“Get the phone.”

“Hold on, Helena.” Bruce swings his young daughter onto his back, racing down the hall. A mix of voices shouting behind him--not all in English, definitely about their reputations-- and pounding footsteps on the wood floors. Helena laughs and wraps her arms around his neck. She’s never known anything different than this insanity. Her crazy, crazy family that loves each other, even when they say otherwise.

Jumping over the stair railing, one arm holding onto Helena, there’s one thing he’s certain of. Well, two.

One, he could never give up moments like this. Two, he’s incredibly thankful for automatic Cloud uploads.

[spaceorphan18]

99 Perspectives on a Single Love Story #94

A/N: The Story of Kurt and Blaine told through the eyes of everyone else but them. Each chapter is a different perspective in the ongoing tale of their love story.

I started something like this a while back - and now I’m taking the idea and really running with it. Each chapter is a ficlet of a different character at a different point in Kurt and Blaine’s life - documenting their love story. This starts in Audition, and each chapter will be paired with a different episode until reaching Dreams Come True.

[Ao3]

***

New New Directions (A Wedding) 

Mason and Madison McCarthy

Upon arrival, Madison McCarthy sees something that grabs her attention.  Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson are standing near the entrance of the barn, on their own, heads nearly together giggling.  They’re messing around with a pitchfork of all things, playfully arguing over who is going to hold it.  Blaine has it in his hand, and Kurt keeps trying to go for it, but then Blaine pulls it away, grinning.  And then, for a moment, Kurt manages to get his hand on it - or more so, Blaine’s hand.  They pause, and stare at each other, lost in their own dreamy world.  

Oh, they are so back together.  

So back together.  

And she totally had called it.

She eyes Mason, who has unsurprisingly found his way to Jane’s side, and stares at him intently.

Hey - you have to pay up.  I totally won the bet, loser.

Mason manages to pull himself away from Jane for a moment.  He spots her immediately, getting her message loud and clear, then looks around the lawn.  She nods to where Kurt and Blaine are standing, the two of them now posing for some picture with the pitchfork.  

Yeah, okay Madison.  You’re probably reading too much into things again.

Madison stomps her foot.  They are totally hooking up, so that means I win.  You know how sensitive I am to these kinds of vibes.  And I am never wrong.  So you have to pay up.

What evidence could you possibly have?

They came in together.  They’re wearing matching tuxes.  

They’re in the wedding party - everyone is wearing matching tuxes.

Whatever.  You said at Rachel Berry’s party that you didn’t think they were together, and the bet was if they were before this wedding, then you’d give me fifty bucks.  Just look at them.  Clearly they’re together.  You owe me!

Maybe they’re just planning on hooking up at the wedding.  Everyone hooks up at weddings.  Doesn’t mean they’re back together.  

You are not getting out of this on a technicality, Mason.  Mason! Don’t you walk away from me, Mason.  This isn’t over.

As Madison storms into the barn after her brother, she misses a soft moment where Kurt gives Blaine a quick kiss on the lips before holding onto his hand to lead him into the wedding.  

***

Spencer Porter

My god - why is this wedding so fucking gay?

Spencer is sitting in the back row.  Having most of it to himself, he spreads out, legs outstretched in front of him, arms around the two empty chairs behind him, head flung backwards staring ceiling annoyed that he’s listening to some old guy drone on about how love is love and gay is okay and all the other stupid cliches he usually hears on the dumb TV shows his little sister watches that try to sound progressive but are just cheesy and dumb.  

Marriage equality will happen someday.  No need to lecture people about it.  

Besides - why is this even a big deal in the first place? Why is it anyone’s business whether or not he’d prefer to stick his dick up an asshole over a vagina?  Society in general is far too obsessed with the sex lives of other people.  They’re probably uptight losers who aren’t getting any anyway.  

God, he would love to have a good fuck right now.

Not that he has ever had the real chance to have a good fuck.

He closes his eyes, and as the two couples on the altar kiss and everyone claps and cheers around him, he thinks of Alistair, and that red hair he’d like to run his fingers through.  He grins as he loses himself in the fantasy.

***

Jane Hayward

Jane is slow dancing with Mr. Anderson.  The wedding had been beautiful.  The reception has been a blast.  And Mr. Anderson is too kind, asking her to dance.  But she’s feeling a tad nervous.  Not because of Mr. Anderson, whom she is so, so happy for, and whom she finds a kind and understanding soul.  But because every time she glances over his shoulder, she notices Mason McCarthy, who happens to be dancing with his sister, staring back at her.  She isn’t sure if that squeamish feeling in the pit of her stomach is a good feeling or not.  

Mr. Anderson, noticing her shaky hands, throws a look over his shoulder.  “So… have you asked him out yet?” he asks, a grin on his lips.

“What?” Jane looks away, trying not to show her feelings.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Ah,” Mr. Anderson’s grin grows uncomfortably wider.  “I remember the first time I had feelings for a boy.  Real feelings.  Made me nervous, too.”

She shakes her head, as if he’s said the silliest of things.  “No one makes me nervous,” she says, though the quiver in her voice gives her away.  

“The nerves calm down,” he says.  “It’s a rush at first, when you have no idea if they like you back.  But you’ll never know if it’s real or not if you don’t take that chance.  Put yourself out there.  Cause the nerves calm down the more experience you have.  Besides - if you never do take that chance, you might not get that happy ending.”

Her palms are sweating, but his are cool and soft.  She smiles at him, and nods, understanding.  

“Excuse me,” Mr. Hummel steps up to them.  “Would you mind if I dance with my husband?”

“Oh, yes,” Jane lets Mr. Anderson go, allowing Mr. Hummel to step in.

She takes a deep breath, collects herself, and as Mr. Hummel and Mr. Anderson wrap themselves up in each other, she readies herself to go ask Mason McCarthy for a dance.  The worst he could say is no.

***

Roderick Meeks

Roderick leaves the little outhouse that’s located a yard or so away from the barn.  It’s cold and dark and Roderick isn’t sure why anyone would want to have a wedding in the middle of November outside in rural Indiana, but at least this beats staying home and doing nothing.  He’s about to head back into the barn when he sees something that startles him.  Pushed up against the side of the barn are Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson.  Aggressively making out.  And making noises.  And grabbing each other’s asses.

He’s frozen in place as he dawns on him that he’s watching two teachers get it on.  It’s uncomfortably weird.  

“Roderick, there you are - you promised you’d sing with me.”  It’s Kitty Wilde, indignantly on her way to him. “What are you even doing out here - oh.” She stops in her tracks as she notices.  “I didn’t think this kind of thing does it for you.”

He shoots her a look.  “It doesn’t.  I was going to the bathroom and they were… that.”

Kitty rolls her eyes.  “Yeah, well, call it the least surprising thing to ever happen.”

“It’s weird,” Roderick says, trying not to feel too grossed out when Kurt Hummel lets out a really breathy groan.  “The first time I met them, they, like, hated each other.”

Kitty bursts out laughing.  “It’s called foreplay and unresolved sexual tension.  And we should probably leave before it gets resolved.”  

“Wait, they aren’t gonna… like… out here in the cold?”

“Do you really want to wait around to find out?”

“Nope.”

Kitty grabs his hand, and cackles as she leads him back into the barn.  

What a weird day.