#I am very hyped for more Halloween content!

[intramoon]

Halloween party soon!! 🍾 🥴

[qwertycake]

more qpr fluffy squishy platonic writing prompts! wahoo!! part two!!! :)

Same disclaimer applies as my first post - these are aro- and ace-spec centric, may only work for shortform fiction, and feel free to tweak them to be less specific/more specific to specific characters.

Specific is a weird word lol

Anyways…

“We both get caught out in the rain and wait out the weather under the same shelter, and either we’re meeting for the first time or we have a nice excuse to hang out together” AU

“You annotate a book for me and I annotate it right back for you, and we keep passing the book back and forth until its a mess of affectionate scribbles that we keep on the coffee table” AU

"It's hot outside and you love the heat but I hate it and you're being stupidly nice and sweet to me while I'm a grouchy mess" AU

"I can teach you how to play this instrument if you stop DISTRACTING ME by looking so ENDEARING AND INFATUATED" AU

"Keep Talking And Nobody Explodes" AU

"We're both too tired to take care of ourselves because of sickness/work/school/whatever but we immediately find the energy to take care of one another via making tea and grabbing blankets" AU

"We trade clothes for Halloween and do terrible impersonations of one another" AU

"We have a bunch of unfinished craft projects between the two of us and decide to just... finish them all in one day... 24 itty-bitty hours... oh boy..." AU

"We recreate a terrible low-budget movie together" AU

"On Valentine's Day, we decide to make a bunch of garlic bread and cake, and buy each other flowers in the colours of our respective aro-/ace-spec flags... and then the day after, we buy all the chocolate that's finally gone on sale" AU

“I teach you how to do make-up because for one reason or another you’re unfamiliar with it” AU

“Fake dating and having dramatic break ups over silly things in public for shits and giggles” AU

“So, the world might have just ended… so guess who has two thumbs and a bunker that desperately could use a roommate?” AU

“We’re made to play seven minutes in heaven at a party and after a few awkward minutes of silence we both decide to just order a pizza or something while we wait out the seven minutes” AU

“Hey, you can dance, and I can’t, teach me— no, I don’t care that I’ve got two left feet, teach me!” AU

“We’re both artists, maybe of different skill levels, and we decide to draw/paint/make art of each other” AU

“I’m a night owl and you’re more of a day person, so whenever we stop texting because you have to go to bed, I’m stuck laying awake thinking about you Please Enjoy Waking Up To A Bunch Of Messages” AU

“I’m a day person and you’re more of a night owl but I struggle to fall asleep because I’m stuck thinking about how lucky I am to be your friend Hey I Think I Could Stay Up For An Extra Ten Minutes” AU

“We’re both nervous about going to the gym alone so we try going together… but neither of us have the guts to get out of the car so we just go for a walk or something instead” AU

“You’re super into sports and exercise and I’m just getting into it but you hype me up so I’m less nervous about getting started” AU

“I bake a whole bunch, you cook big meals… at the same time of day - our kitchen is chaos” AU

“It’s New Year’s Eve and we’re hanging out at a party and everyone’s speculating that we’re gonna have our New Year’s Kiss together but the New Year comes and we just do a weird handshake” AU

“Non-Fatal Hanahaki Disease AU where we’re some of the few people who don’t experience it because we’re content with whatever non-romantic thing we have together… but we both have hay fever and are very annoyed by the constant barrage of flower petals around us and have to tell our friends to Please Stop Crushing On The Random Barista At Starbucks It’s The Third Time This Week You Are KILLING US” AU

“We’re both alien test subjects who’ve never met before and have to try and plan our escape - bonus points if the aliens are specifically testing for something like amatonormative like All Humans Fall In Love and we’re the black swans of the research since they apparently abducted Only Romantic Allosexuals Aside From Us Somehow” AU

“It’s midnight and you show up on my doorstep unannounced after a long while of us drifting apart, what on earth happened?” AU

“We’re both capable of granting wishes - you’re the monkey’s paw and I’m the guy who’s stuck remedying all the messed up things you have happen to people What Is Wrong With You” AU

And finally…

“I’m laying on the couch at a party drunk/high/exhausted/whatever and you’re looking after me, having only met me that night - I proceed to ramble about how embarrassed I’ll be when I’m older and think back to how I made a fool of myself in front of someone I wanted to be friends with really badly… but luckily for me, you’re flattered that I think you’re super cool” AU

[castletown-cafe]

Life Updates, AuDHD, and A Mental Trainwreck

Content Warnings: Mental illness, current events, betrayal trauma, abuse, & family death.

It's time I talked about how things have been for me lately. I'm tired of hyping up all these things/projects I can't commit to, it feels like I'm making promises I can't fulfill. I get too ambitious, I get too many ideas, and even the ones I manage to see through, I just do not enjoy the writing portion.

About a year ago, my focus drifted away from Castletown Cafe. Many of you here may know what that's like to lose interest/hyperfixation on one thing and get fixated on something else, that's natural for us with autism and ADHD. We get an intense hyperfocus on a topic or project for a while only to shift to the next topic, losing interest or forgetting about the previous. I got really fixated on Pokemon Scarlet & Violet, Splatoon 3, and ACNH this past year, as well as making my own unrelated cooking projects revolving around seasonal ingredients. This fall, I got crazy ambitious for an entire fall-themed cookbook and even a Halloween one, things that obviously will take years of practice and experimentation (and need year-round work).

On top of that, however, I have not been feeling as well mentally this year. I've had less motivation to draw, and felt a stronger dislike of writing. If you have ADHD you know how hard it is to get yourself to do something you don't want to do. It's like pulling teeth. I've always had issues with executive dysfunction, and I wonder how much of it I've succumbed to this year. And while I've never been diagnosed with clinical depression, I'm wondering/concerned if I am showing signs of it like I might have been this year with my lack of motivation, my focus and drive getting worse, loss of enjoyment of things I ordinarily enjoy doing, such as drawing, feeling sad more often, and either sleeping too much or too little.

Granted the events of this fall haven't helped. We all know what's going on in the world right now. It's horrifying, it's depressing, and it's easy to feel helpless, but we all have the power to protest, to boycott, and to use social media to amplify voices of the marginalized. I have been very active on Twitter with this, but it has also been hard to enjoy my favorite times of year, the fall and Halloween, when tens of thousands are being massacred. It's no wonder I have been so depressed this fall, knowing the country we live in is siding with the colonizers and is actively funding genocide. Our tax dollars are being used to fund this and many, if not most, American brands and companies are also in favor of it.

Then, in November, I discover that an 80s band I liked is guilty of VERY inappropriate behavior toward women. One I had been listening to for the past few years. Fronted by a guy whose music I had enjoyed since childhood. I shouldn't have been so surprised, but it still broke me anyway. Another betrayal was a YouTuber who turned out to be an imposter with no thoughts or opinions of his own, only stolen from others. Yet another was a confirmation of suspicions I had toward a certain animator having NPD and being abusive, (who, to be honest, I never actually liked, just her art style and cartoons).

Oh, but that's not all! Here's where it gets really personal, but I think I really need to disclose this. On top of everything going on, I had two deaths in the family recently. One was a parent whom I didn't get along with very well, the other was my old pup Oscar. My old doggo has been easier to grieve, because he was a sweet, good boy....and honestly....he deserved a better end to his life than what he got. He was living with my father, keeping him company. My father was the parent I had a bad relationship with, and is the reason I advocate strongly for responsible and careful drinking. Because he failed to do that. He always used alcohol for self-medication, something you should NEVER do. His substance abuse got worse and worse over the years, driving him meaner and more abusive. He was never really kind to me, even if he tried to be. I never had a good relationship with my father, and honestly I know a lot of people can relate to that with one or both of their parents. A lot of us have betrayal trauma from growing up, maybe you have parents who don't love you unconditionally, or parents who never wanted to be parents, emotionally or physically abusive parents, you get the idea. Mine just so happened to be a man born and raised in a time where there was no diagnosis for his neurodivergence. He had tons of internalized ableism that he pushed onto me, and modelled horrible, angry behavior. He also had depression, but never sought help, and I believe that's due to toxic masculinity.

He can't hurt me anymore, though. I moved out of his house almost 5 years ago, and I wish it had been sooner. I'm not sure how to feel about his passing, because of how he treated me when he was alive. One thing I have been feeling though, is stress. He has left behind a house that is a disaster because he neglected to take care of it, tons of debt because he had failed to pay his bills, and no will whatsoever so inheritance is also going to be a mess to untangle. My family and I have been going back to that house to clean it, get it repaired, and figure out what to do with everything left behind. Right in the middle of a holiday season. What fun /sarcasm.

On the topic of Oscar, it's safe to say how he passed/what happened. My father went first, and so Oscar just curled up next to him.....and stayed there until he also died. And honestly....that's just heartbreaking.....I wish Oscar could've howled for help, that someone could have heard him and come to his rescue and taken care of him....but he didn't....I just wish i could have been by Oscar's side in his final moments. I know he was an old dog, he lived to be 15 and a half...but he's with my grandma now and I hope she's taking good care of him, wherever they are.

Meanwhile, Penny has been a new family member since July. She has been by my side to give hugs and cuddles, and I've needed them a lot these past few weeks. Since Oscar stayed behind to keep my father company when I moved out a few years ago, I missed my puppy, and having a little doggo around. And so, enter Penny. She's even registered as an emotional support animal, or ESA, and she goes all kinds of places with me. I love the attention she gets from other people when we go shopping together. Her cuteness lightens up a room and makes the day of many people.

My little fluffy girl has been a big help getting me through everything this season.

Back to Castletown Cafe, it may take a while, but I hope one day to return to it. I have all kinds of ideas and things I want to make and practice, and I also hope to create more content in 2024, even doing more live gaming on Twitch. I got a new computer for streaming, but I still need a monitor for it. I wanna have a streaming schedule and everything.

I really appreciate all of you who are still here even though I haven't been able to make many new things or deliver upon hyped ideas. I feel bad about my lack of content this year, though with recent life events I think it's really understandable as to why I haven't been able to churn out much in that regard.

One more thing: I do want to disclose that my ADHD is unmedicated. I can't get medication for it (not with this hell-thcare system) and I don't know what I should take for executive dysfunction. For those of you who made it this far with ADHD, what do you recommend?

Anyway, thank you for taking the time to read this, especially if you made it all the way to the end here. I know it was a lot, and some of this is REALLY heavy stuff. These are things that we all do go through, however.

Thank you.

~ Mari 🧡

[recurring-polynya]

Writing/Art Update 10.31.2023

Sorry this is a little late, I was trying to get something done yesterday and then I got overtaken by Halloween Festivities and didn't get a chance to post it, but this update is as of 10/31.

This week was pretty slow to get going--as per last week's update, I really didn't know how to get started with Chapter 3. I had to sort of think about it for a few days, during which time no writing-writing took place, but I did eventually get it figured out, and now I have a pretty solid outline for Chapters 3 and 4. I was able to get about halfway through Chapter 3, which involved writing one new flashback (which I had a false start on, but the second try came out good) and reworking two present-time scenes, one which needed a lot of work, and one which needed just a little (mostly deletions).

This week's wordcount: 23,299 (+5,439), with about 2,387 of new content.

I am very close to having more in my "clean, contiguous" version than in my "old pile of crap" version (24,245), and that ought to happen this week. My goal for this week is to finish Chapter 3, which two flashbacks (one of which is half-written) and one new real-time scene.

I've been having really mixed feelings on my progress. On one hand, half a chapter per week is proving to be pretty doable, and I'm able to see real progress every week, and it's giving me a nice amount of "I wrote!" satisfaction. On the other hand, if, as I projected last week, this story goes to 10 chapters, that means it will take me 15 weeks, which feels like forever. On the other hand, that will mean it took me almost exactly two years to write, all-told (including time I wasn't actually working on it). Maybe I should just be grateful if I can actually get it done in 15 weeks.

I made a joke about it being November and trying to hype myself up to NaNoWriMo-style push my way through this thing, but that's actually a really bad idea. I still think about that "writing is just behavior" post every single day of my life. You only get to write each story once, and I think it's important to take my time and enjoy the story I'm in, right now. Also, we're getting into the busiest and most miserable time of year for me right now, and I think it's extremely important to keep writing as a treat I get to do, not an arbitrary word count obligation that I made up to torture myself with.

On a final note, I'm in one of those weird brain-places that I get sometimes where I really have not looked back over any of the stuff I've finished. My usual writing state is to enjoy re-reading the stuff that I've read, but right now, it's all "Don't look back! Forward only!" I do think this is good, because I know this will pass eventually and there will certainly be time to edit, later, but I am also really worried that everything I have written is going to be absolutely horrible when I go back to it later. (In general, I'm usually pleasantly surprised to find writing I haven't looked at in a while to be better than I remembered, but it's not guaranteed, you know?)

(no art this week)

[haztobegood]

My 2023 Fic Fest Participation

One of the best parts of this fandom is the many many fests that we have! I love seeing all the creative themes that this fandom comes up with to inspire more fics year after year! Thank you to everyone that modded fests and created spaces that inspired some amazing works this year!

Number of fests: 5

Numbers of fics: 5 out of the 7 fics I posted were written for fests, and I also created a fanfic trailer for big bang!

Favorite fest/fic: @wankersday has been a staple for 5 whole years now! I've written every year and always look forward to reading the wide variety of fics that everyone comes up with. This year I wrote a short one inspired by Louis starting his world tour A Cure for First Show Nerves.

Fests you would love to do again this year (if they come back): I always love @1dtrickortreatfest every year! I've been challenging myself to write more spooky/scary ficlets for it each year.

Tagging: @disgruntledkittenface @reminiscingintherain @fallinglikethis @louandhazaf @allwaswell16 @lululawrence @uhoh-but-yeah-alright @beelou @kingsofeverything @jacaranda-bloom and anyone else that wants to share!

A list of my creations and reflections is under the cut!

A Cure for First Show Nerves for @wankersday E, <1k, Harry/Louis | Canon Compliant, FITFWT

I was very busy buying a house and moving during the first half of the year, so this is the first full fic I wrote and posted in 2023. I was struggling to come up with anything to write for the fest. Louis' tour started a few days before the fest and the pictures from that inspired this little oneshot just in time for me to add it to the collection!

No (Birth) Control for Knot in My Name multi-fandom event E, 3k, Harry/Louis | A/B/O, Breeding Kink

I saw this event on tumblr, billed as a way to feed AI learning with tons of A/B/O content, and happened to be working on this fic at the time. I was happy to contribute to the anti-AI cause and added my fic to the collection.

Ghosted for @1dtrickortreatfest NR, 666, Harry/Louis | Ghost Story

This one is based on a tweet I saw on tumblr. I saved it to my prompt folder a while back, and when I started looking for halloween/scary prompts, it jumped out to me. Based on the comments it looks like it was much more angst than spook, but I love the way it turned out nonetheless.

Chaos for @louisrarepairfest E, 100, Louis/Bodyguard | Drabble, Implied Dom/sub

I wanted so badly to write a long smutty fic with Louis and one of his bodyguards. But writing was so difficult this year, and writing smut was near impossible. I tried so many times to start this fic, but it wasn't getting anywhere. Putting a hard 100 word limit on it challenged me to create something with the exact emotion I hoped to capture in a longer fic, and I am still floored by how well it turned out!

Baking Memories for @louisrarepairfest T, 2k, Louis/Jack Cochrane | Christmas Baking Shenanigans

I could not stop listening to The Snuts after seeing them live in Minneapolis. Always was my top song of the year. I started to go down the rabbit hole of videos they've shared on youtube. And then this happened. Writing fics where Louis is forced into the kitchen is my favorite thing.

Art for take me back, take me back by @panye for @onedirectionbigbang

I created a trailer and moodboard for this big bang fic! There were so many cool locations and visuals used throughout the fic, so building a trailer to hype the story and fitting it to San Fransisco by Niall was a lot of fun!

Past summaries 2021 2022

[veronicasanders]

Horror movie time! Do you like them? Are you a thriller person or a gore person? Any favorite villain? What horror movie do you think is over hyped? What horror movie do you like the most? How do you feel about jumpscares? Twist endings? If you're not a horror movie fan, just talk to me about your favorite Halloween movies :)

Hello!! 😱😱 

I’m not a horror movie person in general, mostly because I think I don't really get scared. But I do have some horror/thriller movies that I love because I just feel like they transcend the genre: (list after the jump)

Here's the list in no particular order. IMPORTANT NOTE: I  am always referring to the originals, unless noted. Lol

Rosemary’s Baby

Get Out

The Shining

The Exorcist

Carrie

Misery

Poison Ivy (this one is kind of terrible but also amazing)

Cube

Village of the Damned and The Bad Seed (both super old and campy, and maybe that’s why I like them)

Psychological thrillers are way more interesting to me than gore/slasher flicks. Jumpscares do nothing for me. Twist endings are cool with 2 caveats:

The movie has to be good without it, so that if you know the twist ahead of time or figure it out, it doesn’t ruin the entire thing (I’M LOOKING AT YOU, M. NIGHT!!!)

It shouldn't be predictable

Overrated:

Halloween - My brother INSISTED that it was objectively good and totally transcended the genre, like the ones above. He was WRONG. Terrible fucking acting, including from Ms. Jamie Lee - who I generally find to be a great actor, so maybe it was really just terrible directing.

Texas Chainsaw Massacre - I have never been simultaneously BORED and ANNOYED the way this movie made me, so I guess that's an accomplishment. But honestly, I think the entire last HALF of this movie is that one bitch shrieking at the top of her lungs. And me just sitting there going "kill her, kill her, kill her..."

Paranormal Activity - Boring. I saw it (honestly maybe not the first one?) in the theatre with my friend, and the only entertaining part was these two girls near us who kept screaming and yelling at the screen. Which was really bothering my friend. Needless to say, I ditched him to have drinks with those girls after.

The Blair Witch Project - Probably no one cares anymore but when this came out, everyone I knew was OBSESSED and I lost interest like 10 minutes in. GET A TRIPOD, LADS.

The Sixth Sense - Knew he was dead in the first scene, after that it was super unimpressive.

Scream - Meh. Not funny enough to be a comedy or good enough to take seriously.

Other favorite Halloween movies which I will happily watch all year round:

The Craft

Death Becomes Her

The Addams Family and The Addams Family Values

Little Shop of Horrors

Edward Scissorhands

Witches of Eastwick

Beetlejuice

Practical Magic

Rocky Horror Picture Show

Ghostbusters (I’m partial to the remake here)

The Witches

E.T. (okay it may be a stretch to call it a Halloween movie but there is hilarious Halloween content)

Mermaids (same, not really a Halloween movie but like...it's so fucking good and the Halloween scenes are very memorable)

Any Halloween episode of 'Roseanne'

[bbnibini]

Hi! I really love your works but it gotten me curious if you also read fanfics? Do you have any fanfic recommendations?

Thank you, anon! That's really kind of you. 🥺💕 I do read fanfics, but not as much anymore. I'm assuming this ask is for Obey Me fics? But if not, I will include some of my absolute favourites in a future post. Fair warning: I gushed. A LOT hahaha. Please support the authors and their works! I included the fics in the hyperlinks~

NSFW fics are marked appropriately, so please click the links at your own discretion (some of them are in my public bookmarks in AO3).

Elle's Obey Me Fic Recommendations

🌸Your Coal by Angrish(LettuceBean)

Truth be told, I belong to the "forgive but don't forget camp" in lieu of what happened in Chapter 16; reading Angrish's YC and how their MC coped with the aftermath(+ how others coped along with them) felt really powerful, raw and so so emotional. It made me think and really think about how I processed the whole thing that happened. While it didn't really change my outlook on how I have forgiven Belphie for what he had done, Angrish shedding light to the unanswered questions and lingering doubts the main story have left most of its readers was done in such a thoughtful and poetic way that I found myself binge reading the whole thing.

Given that I read this whole coping with a lot of stuff as well (and may have contributed with sympathising a lot more to the vindictiveness of the MC), reading what Angrish had written was really cathartic. Their writing style is also beautiful--the way the words string together, simple, elegant, yet impactful really made MC's emotions a lot...tangible, real and sometimes, frustrating (in a good way, mind you). I also liked how they had fleshed out the other characters, especially Belphegor, Satan and the Purgatory Hall members.

🌸You'll Have to Ask Your Dad by DefenestrationProtestration

I remembered clicking on this fic because of the author's punny name, stayed for the pretty writing and reread a few several times for the characterisation and THE WRITING. I'm pretty sure I left a litany of praises and incomprehensible gushing on the comments section because of how much I've devoured this piece of art.

Even as I'm typing this review, I can't seem to organise my thoughts haha. You can tell by the writing style that the author had a lot of fun writing their prose; it permeates through the screeen...my "screen" of imagination at least. I am not joking--the writing is so pretty and vivid that I literally saw it as a movie in my head lol. I chatted with them a bit on the comments and they said the prose is more of something they had written subconsciously; it reminded me of James Joyce and how he had masterfully perfected the same technique. Of course, their writing styles differ a lot from each other, but I can see what they meant.

...as I'm typing this, I didn't realise how I haven't talked about the plot of the fic at all soz. This piece is the author's character study of Lucifer. It talks about how he was before, during and after the fall. He is a bit of an unreliable narrator, which I'm not sure if the author intended, but he has all these presumptions that miss the mark so so much, particularly at how his brothers, Lord Diavolo and the others perceive him--but reading the whole thing would make you understand why he had gotten to that kind of self-perception in the first place. And honestly? It really, really hurt to read. But was it bad? The total opposite of that, in fact! I loved how they had written the angst in this piece. So many things in the fic are "show, rather than tell" and I really really appreciate that.

Most of my brainrot about this fic is better to be explored on your own. Overall, 10/10: a definite, recommended read.

🌸Fairy Tales for the Fallen by indiavolowetrust

I haven't fully devoured all of the stories in the collection yet, but the ones I've read (Her Name Was Thousand Eyes is my favourite) was such a really good spin on dark fairy tales (Obey Me style!). It reminded me of my childhood Little Mermaid picture book for some reason. Probably the writing style(the author's writing reads a lot like a storybook) The one I had was Hans Christian Andersen's (aka the OG) version and the ending was rather...dark for a 5 year old lol. It was a big part of my life though and was probably the precursor for my affinity with sad stories haha.

🌸TieGuanYin by Taciturn

Like tea on a tiring day, Taciturn's writing style feels very homey, cozy and familiar. I love rereading this oneshot when I'm having a shitty day and imagining myself having tea with Barbatos haha. Ever had pieces of art or literature that just...relaxes you when you consume it? This one is one of my, as the youngsters say, "comfort fic" haha.

🌸glass half empty; glass half full by unagis

I love unagis' fics.♡ I also love her Childe fics. The concepts she comes up with, as well as how she delivers it is *chef kiss*. Admittedly, I read this one when I was still a Satan stan, with all the suspicions and doubts about Solomon's intentions still rampant within me. Reading him blush and become flustered is CUTE and aaaaa this whole fic is just really cute.🥺♡

🌸The Eternal Storm by @sondepoch

Sondepoch's Satan oneshot was the very first fic I read in the OM fandom so it has a special place in my heart~ I remembered how awkward it was to skim through the Satan filters, looking for a gen fic/SFW fic because around that time, most OM fics are smut (no shade on smut ofc, I'm just super uncomfortable reading them unless the writing is really pretty or there's something else going on in the story). Finding GEN AND A WELL-WRITTEN CHARACTER STUDY about my (former) favourite OM character was like I hit the jackpot. I remembered that feeling really well haha. My bias with one of my favourite forms of fic (char. study) aside, Sondepoch's writing is easy on the eyes and is definitely a great entry for anyone who wants to be in the OM fandom.

🌸Read Me by GENE515

One of my more recent reads and definitely worth a mention!♡ Read Me was a beautifully written, heartfelt two-shot about Lucifer's love, which he tried his best to express in penned words. Probably because of my own love letter-themed OM series, this one really stuck to me haha. The author is also really sweet. :3

🌸Schrodinger by fickleminder

I read this one around Halloween and it definitely fit the occasion. Schrodinger was such a great thriller/horror fic with how it set its unsettling atmosphere from the very beginning--the way fickleminder's writing just sucks you in and makes you bystand the whole ordeal between Belphegor and MC was just...so suspenseful? Nail biting? Creepy (in a good way ofc)? I won't spoil the ending, but the process and way they tackled it was a lot scarier than what I was initially bracing myself for.

🌸Siberia by @polandspringz

Seeing another Obey Me mystery in AO3 really hyped me up! Polandspringz did a spectacular job in writing this series and I can relate so much with their experiences in writing for mystery. Their writing style is easy on the eyes--I also really liked how they characterised the OM characters I have read on their series so far. There's still quite a lot of stuff left in speculation (from my most recent reading at least), and I really look forward to see how everything unfolds!

🌸Tetris Syndrome by apocketfulofposies (NSFW)

I am very very uncomfortable with smut content, so the smut I've read can be counted on one hand. ;; That is to say, TS is one of the few smut that I really, really enjoyed. First of all, Levi's characterisation is on point. It was really really interesting to get in his head and read about his thought process. What is envy? And how much does the sin of envy really define him?

I really enjoyed Levi's internalisations, as well as the author's writing style. If you want smut with a brooding, jealous otaku boy, I really recommend this one!

[tainted-wine]

Do you recommend any blogs for Hawks content? Sorry if you don’t understand the request

I made a recommendation list a couple months ago, but since I’m on a creative recharge right now, I might as well update it to ensure that you guys are well fed!

***hawkssimp now goes by the name @lovekeigo

.

Now, if you’ll just follow me this way. There we go, that gentleman at the counter will take things from here. He’s been around for a long time; just ask him for his personal favorites. 

(If anyone wants to be removed from the list, please let me know!)

@smutbardpeach - Ah, now here’s a poet with a way of words. The fact that I don’t even know how to describe the unique flow of their writing shows how booty I am with details compared to them. I mean it!  Lovebirds: Adventures in Poetic Seduction is both a comical and elegant masterpiece with poetry that gives you giggles and butterflies. Go check out their grounded and wonderful interpretations of Hawks! And while you’re at it please read Truth in Wine because it’s the best Hizashi fic ever

@keilemlucent - Relationship scenarios, you say? You’ll find a wide variety here. The soft filth is to die for, but when there’s angst, it hits hard. And there’s so many wonderful pieces of Hawks and reader just...trying things, and there’s a domestic vibe to so much of it. Their ongoing fic Lavender Latte is a slow burn coffee shop AU that begins with fluffy interactions that have taught me more about coffee than I could have ever anticipated, but things escalate from there! But maybe you don’t want that. Maybe you just want Hawks to transform into an extra horny birdman that fucks you across the galaxy and back. Well, they have that too.

@keiqos - “Wine, why don’t you write Hawks as more submissive?” Cause I’m a subby bitch, that’s why. But fear not, someone else has you covered very well. Hoooo boy, thank you for opening my eyes to the world of such a vulnerable bird boi. And you hit those praise kinks so hard umph. I’d pick a favorite but WHERE DO I START. THAT MASTERLIST IS A FEAST THAT STRETCHES BEYOND THE FRIGGIN DINING ROOM. Discovering this blog was a bountiful harvest of sin.

@hawnks - Story. story story story. If you want some hurt/comfort in your Hawks sex, then stop right here. I know that they are a relatively new face around these parts, but damn did they come in swingin’. And those punches hit you right in the heart like dayum, I’ve been hit so hard I don’t think I’m even ready for the sex oh shit nevermind the sex is up next I’m hyped and horny. I’m ashamed to say that I have yet to get to Crawl Home to Me, but if the feedback is anything to go by, I’m missing out big time. DON’T BE LIKE ME. GO READ IT.

And here’s some stories from blogs that aren’t Hawks-centric.

Invasive Species by @pleasantanathema​ is my favorite yandere!Hawks fic. The growing tension as the exchanges go from sweet to worrying to holy shit...perfect pacing, man. Also there’s this EndHawks drabble that I have read way too many times and I’m gonna keep reading it until I’m getting spitroasted by flamedaddy and birb in my dreams. I’m sorry that I’m such an endhawks whore that keeps mentioning it during my rec posts.

Eh, no I’m not.

Now @tomurasprincess​ has-WOAH what the fuck I wasn’t ready for that awesome Halloween design on their blog. That shit’s crisp. Anyway, Aerie is a sweet treat for all of you Omegaverse lovers out there. And if you got a taste for more dark Hawks content, check out their other ficlets! And read their Shiggy content it’s chilling and amazing.

Over at the wonderful land of AO3, we have thorsty_borb. Yes, I’ve mentioned them before but I’m doing it again because they’re the shit. Their passion for worldbuilding in their AUs is so inspiring and really sucks you in. It’s clear that things aren’t being explained simply because they need to be, there’s just so much heart and enjoyment in every word. If you love fantasy AUs, and also don’t mind Hawks being a despicable dude, please give their “Seven Deadly Birds” series a look!

[unproduciblesmackdown]

which bmc scenes make you the softest bc for me it's gotta be most of the stagedorks scenes ESPECIALLY a guy that i'd kinda be into. mostly bc of christine cause her and michael are my favs (i love them all sm though) but also bc of jeremy because he is a close second to both of them. also vimh but vimh makes me cry a lot although nowadays i can hardly watch one scene without at the very least tearing up. anyways yeah which ones make you soft

i simply rewatched bmc and took notes for this and really got off track at points in the sense of sticking to What Makes You Softest but that’s how it goes babey

ACT ONE - in mts when jeremy is just having a whole moment being smitten in christine's presence while she's inelegantly picking herself up off the floor and smearing on lip balm and adjusting a skirt wedgie - jeremy and michael just being default that glad to meet each other in the middle of a random schoolday - michael hyping up jeremy's crush on christine and just encouraging this momentum to get jeremy to sign up for the play - ilpr.....that christine stops after like, the first two verses and goes back to her book b/c she doesn't figure someone's looking to listen to her beyond that but then she sees jeremy's still 110% paying attention and the whole rest of the song enfolds with increasing enthusiasm - jake doing that whole bit "all the pressure i feel to be the best at everything all the time" lmao classic stuff here, depressing content delivered in this humorousse way. charming moment - "leave me alone, i've had a bad day" - 2pg......when michael taps jeremy on the shoulder to get jeremy to join in on his choreo, which jeremy then does.....that michael asks if jeremy will be too cool for Video Games and jeremy just responds Emotionally Directly......we love the Favorite Person moment......that this song just ends with the two of them grooving 2gether god bless - jeremy stammering and Tics and Fidgeting when the squip remarks uponst it - jeremy delivering the Looking Pretty Sexy Brooke as awkwardly as possible and she's just like "thanks :)" - jeremy's own Theatricality coming out......hey hamlet - jeremy spinning around in place alternately addressing both brooke and the squip with "oh i'm supposed to meet my friend michael" - nice little detail wherein brooke signals for chloe to join in on her choreo - speaking of, v fond of the Moment jeremy is in on both their choreo......brooke sort of alarming jeremy with her whole attempted grande finale, straw and all, ft. the first instance of her messing with his hair so much she's just tugging his entire head around - cute that jake and rich have a sort of 2pg-esque handshake routine too - jeremy's "that's sad, what should i do" reaction re: jenna - rich's Earnest invitation to come over and play xbox... - "bonjour, jeremy" "ooh brooke!" and this whole exchange, her complimenting him, him laughing at "That Was French" and remembering to ask about pinkberry - love the whole choreo sequence/s in sync up, especially fond of his Moments with the girls, bumping hips with chloe (twice), hearing some Gossip from jenna, posing with brooke.... ;__; - the bowling alley performance art exchange before agtikbi ;____; - agtikbi......the glittery hearts choreo.....the whatever! the interlude or whatever!!! the I Guess A Part Of Me section hhhhoughhh ;o; ;o; ;o; ;o; ;o; that she pulls him into a hug and puts her head against his shoulder omggg ;_________; - brooke just trying to interact with jeremy the Right Way w/o any guidance on the bleachers and it continues to be awkward and funny....like comforting just his Leg while he converses w/his squip.....how she just ends up Physically pushing him around by the hands and head and shoulder and etc......whole situation here in upgrade.mp3 clearly less than Ideal but jeremy and brooke are nevertheless very cute individually And together - meanwhile jake also trying to genuinely Be With christine in upgrade is also charming lol, quitting archery to hang w/a girl like her.... - i always love when the Playful Shove brooke gives jeremy at "but at the mall, you looked at me" pushes him back a whole few steps....this moment of them truly Getting each other sans anyone else's interference.....tres magnifique - jeremy being That psyched to see michael for the first time (in like, less than one full day lol)....michael being That psyched just hearing that jeremy's cool scifi thing worked out after all - lgw ;_________________________; - like i'm some normal, handsome guy..... - giving us All that silence after "The Problem Has Always Been Me" - the whole bit where he launches into the "I'm Not The [series of insults]" and i've realized it's really especially a stretch to say i'm Soft for these moments in lgw but i Am vulnerable and that's its power. little 1" tall will roland on my screen here just made me shed a real tear doing That.....

ACT TWO - brooke's Howl at the end of her verse lmawooo - oughhh jeremy and brooke Greeting each other at the party too, jeremy unable to disappoint her and going for the Real Compliment, just v charming. rip - jake and jeremy's danceoff lol hell yes and then jake just having Misunderstood the costume plan between him and christine lol - the squip getting in on the dancing :) go you funky little ai - jeremy and brooke singing that last verse of Halloween v enthusiastically at each other, - again that jeremy is just genuinely glad to see michael.... - the inherent intimacy of singing mitb b/c your bff dumped you..... - AGTIKBI REPRISE..... ;______________________________; hhhhuouuuoh my god :'3 the lil detail that at the Height of things christine is Shy and turns away.....just. This Scene oh my god - soft in a vulnerable way like, rip to jenna where we're seeing chloe's Lack Of Enthusiasm in accepting a call from her :[ - the Shift at the start of the pants song :] - and the lil mitb reprise during said pants song lmao, also always having a great time w/this concept of "maybe this teen having a rough time needs some guidance from someone grown w/all that bonus maturity here" - i wish there was a way i could help everyone but i don't know how so i guess i'll just do theatre..... - jenna being Moved simply being asked for the first time ever How She Is u_u then her being like "....Okay!" lmfao jenna's great - just have to say in whatever context i'm v fond of pitiful children there at the end lmfao the bass kicks in like that and we're having a great time - the audience always having that response to "all the way to broadway" - jeremy going "you came to see me in the play? :)" like, that he's processing the significance of that in the middle of these Very Raised Stakes - i'm soft for will roland's vocal glitching mouth noises live every night!!! - jeremy like "ha! >:)" flipping his squip off after he's successfully Apologized lmfaoooo love him - but then having that real And I'm Stronger Than You Think I Am victory like :'| - that michael's been by like a ton btw during jeremy's probably somewhat concerning coma. also cherish the lil dance he does while they're celebrating mr. heere's bepantsedness - jake and jeremy sharing a Dab - and just the Popular Kids actively seeking him out to help re: christine b/c they just Want To Be Supportive.....very nice - this vimh interlude or whatever with christine and jeremy like jlsdfhh i think of this all the time - me and the voices in my head have made up our collective mind ;__; what do they say we should do ;______; and the Woohoo! ;_______________; - huoughh kiss and you KNOW especially the [jeremy spinning away in sheer enthusiasm] of 2.0 just KILLS THE MAN ;O; - jeremy not missing a beat despite the squip's interruption leeet's GOOOOOOOOOOOOOO - the more than survive na na na na na na na na na na na's but they're all So, and jeremy ending With everyone but also there with Himself and it's so Good and Everything Wants What Vimh Has!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! hhrough ;0; - that jason does that spin at curtain call w/his excellent squip costume... - that in virtually any given curtain call when they get into line together there's that lil ritual of george smacking will's ass lmao love languages

i mean tl;dr quite Same in that like, most likely to inspire tearing up over something or other includes agtikbi reprise and vimh which is just like, again any finale wants what it has, and the I Guess A Part Of Me bit of the non-reprise agtikbi like Oof augh this is so cute, and lgw always Gets me, and while i was rewatching speaking of being soft and move-able i was also just continually struck with delight over various moments throughout, and noticing little details for the first time thank god. just Vulnerable the whole time

[c-c-cherry]

I simply must ask... could you spare some spooky Halloween headcanons? I know it’s not quite Halloween yet but I’d love to see your spin on a jojo Halloween!

Oho....hohoho...you have no idea what kind of a beast you’ve awakened in me...

Halloween is arguably the best holiday ever because free candy, costumes, and the weather is fucking PERFECT. (also idk what’s up with the rest of y’all but Canadian thanksgiving is in the middle of October so I’m still riding the high of good thanksgiving food by the time its Halloween (AND I’m half-American so we celebrate it in November too hehehe)

But long story short I love spooky season (and autumn in general) with a burning passion and I am SO willing to go hard on jjba spooky headcanons

Thanks again to @jjadegreen for alway being my best headcanon bud!!

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

Part One:

-For the sake of this, I’m making them like 13 or something, like maybe not even a year after they met

-In 19th century England, it was actually pretty typical for them to have a bonfire on Halloween!!

-Halloween costumes were popularized a few centuries ago in France so you bet our phantom blood buds were wearing costumes and shit :)

-I doubt the rich participated in such “unruly” stuff like lighting shit on fire and bearing torches and whatever (but you never know)

-Like George probably spoiled Jonathan with candy as a kid and let him dress up with his school friends and that was it lol

-Dio though OH MY GOD-

-You know based on where he grew up that all that wild shit definitely happened

-He can’t say that he misses living like that, but there’s some kind of weird nostalgia that comes with it

-...which is why Jonathan is really confused when he catches Dio sneaking out of the mansion in the middle of the night

-Begrudgingly, he tells Jojo his plan and this boy’s eyes LIGHT UP

-Instead of being a “stupid, crybaby, tattletale,” as Dio puts it, Jojo is like,,,super hyped

-“Oh! I have an idea! Why don’t we sneak out in costumes so no-one knows it’s us??”

-The sheets on their beds may have two holes in them now, but it's worth it

-They hijack a horse or some shit and skeet over to a giant bonfire

-Dio thinks it's gonna be a drag since Jonathan is there to watch his every move, but it's actually,,,really fun

-As a kid who’s barely ever left his sheltered property, Jonathan is having the time of his life and Dio never thought he would be happy to see Jonathan so happy

-It ends with the two of them sitting by the river, absolutely exhausted from the rush and Jonathan pulls out this bag of shit from his pocket and is like

-“It’s candy!! :D”

-Dio could never really afford things like sweets on Halloween growing up so he’s a bit touchy about it but OH MY GOD that shit is GOOD

-Probably one of the only times where they actually bond properly

-BUT IF THIS IS MY POCKET DIMENSION THEN I CAN SAY THAT THEY BECOME FRIENDS >:)

Part Two:

-I’m just gonna start out with the fact that Joseph is fucking OBSESSED with candy. You know those kids you knew growing up that loved it more than anything on this goddamn earth? *cough cough @jjadegreen*

-That is Joseph

-And now that he consumes that type of shit with the power of mastered Hamon at his fingertips,,,holy shit man,,,it's like a child’s sugar rush but 100x worse

-Caeasr is put in charge of Jojo to make sure he doesn’t do anything idiotic *which he definitely will trust me*

-The MOMENT he goes to the bathroom, Suzi pops in like “JOJO!!!! :) Let's go trick or treating!!!”

-He can’t say no to that, bro,,,he and Suzi are tight ;-;

-While Lisa Lisa is out to meet Speedwagon and Erina and bring them back over to where everyone else is, Joseph sneaks out with Suzi and the two of them dash off into the streets of New York

Caesar: *steps out of bathroom*

“Jojo, what the hell do you and Suzi want for dinner?”

*silence*

“...Jojo?”

*Hears the screams of of children in the distance*

“JOJO, NO—”

-So turns out Joseph’s way of trick-or-treating at such an old age is just terrorizing young children and ransacking them for candy

-Suzi Q is just totally unphased by how awful this is and just thinks its the funniest shit

-Caesar is running out into the streets of New York like ???? and spots Joseph being himself and he could probably just pretend he doesn’t know them

-But,,,Joseph may be an idiot but he’s his idiot and Suzi Q is his bimbo best friend so he goes out to drag them back home

-Erina, Lisa Lisa, and Speedwagon are already home by the time they get back and Caesar sits Joseph down and chews him out in front of everyone

-Erina is super pissed and lectures him about “Joestar values” or whatever and tells a really embarrassing story about how a kid took his candy once when he was little and he cried about it for DAYS

-Caesar is still really angry about it so he replaces all of Joseph’s gummies with sugar free ones (you goddamn know the ones I’m talking about) but he didn’t know Joseph WOULD EAT THEM ALL AT ONCE

-He is so fucking sick on November 1st

-Also off-topic but Lisa Lisa gives out dental floss or some shit on halloween

Part Three:

-Honestly all Jotaro wants to do is buy candy for himself, hole himself up in his room like he always does, and just munch and watch shitty horror movies 

-But of course he has actual friends now

-Kakyoin tackles him before he can get his ass upstairs and suggests that they go out and trick-or-treat

-To which Jotaro thinks is a joke and laughs because he’s not only 17, but also 6’5” but Kak’s face looks dead serious

-Kakyoin goes on this long, detailed ramble about how he meticulously made the best Halloween route for them to get the best candy

-Now THIS is when Polnareff abandons whatever he and Avdol are doing to join in on the stupid plan they have

-When Kakyoin comes back with a handful of white sheets, they already know what he’s thinking and its brilliant

Kakyoin’s 5-step, foolproof Halloween plan:

Step one: It’s already established that stands can hold non-stand items (like when Star Plat whipped Iggy across the desert) so what’s stopping them from being able to have sheets over their heads?

Step two: They faze a bit of their stands into the ground so that they at least resemble the height of children (plus non-stand users can’t see anything besides the sheets so it's perfect)

Step three: Polnareff pretends to be the father of these shy children who can’t speak (he looks the oldest) while Jotaro and Kakyoin hide nearby so their stands don’t de-summon

Step four: Hit up every good house in the neighbourhood

Step Five: Candy.

(Kak used to put a sheet over hierophant all the time as a kid and always got twice the amount of candy each year)

-It actually works pretty well, aside from the fact that Star would sometimes scream “ORA” in a really deep, manly, not seven years old at all voice whenever the people at the door would try to speak with him or make him say ‘trick-or-treat’

-They finally reach the richest house in the neighbourhood, where the snootiest lady lives (but she has a shit ton of candy leftover every year since no one goes there)

-Once the stands knock on the door, she starts saying stuff like “ohh, let me see your faces so I make sure you aren’t too old for this” and ducks under to look at the sheets…

-...Only to find that there’s literally nothing there

-She looks up at Polnareff like 👁👄👁 and Kakyoin seems to get the message because one of hierophant’s tentacles grabs her ankle and she SCREAMS and throws her entire candy stash at them, slamming the door behind her

-Half of them are full-sizes chocolate bars. Candy acquired.

-When they get back, Joseph is so fucking angry that they didn’t invite him out for Halloween shenanigans  >:(

-Avdol and Holy have a very nice chat, meanwhile. They answer the door while everyone's gone and are so sweet to the kids about their costumes :)

-Also Avdol is 100% the kind of person to bake pumpkin seeds and season them and shit

-Kakyoin sorts all his candy and puts it on a spreadsheet and also make a pie chart just like he does every year

-T’was a very successful halloween

Part Five:

-Giorno is probably short enough to go out if he really wanted to

-But he has maturity issues and there would be no way in hell that the Bucci Gang would catch him going out in a costume and begging for candy

-So as soon as all the daily tasks and shit are met Giorno locks himself in his room

-He honestly wants some candy and to watch spooky movies with the gang but he just feels like an outsider to all of that stuff since he never did it

-So Bruno slips a thing of dracula-themed chocolate pudding under his door and leaves him be :)

-Narancia and Mista DO go out, however

-Not only do they go out and steal shit, but they also go and hit up houses for candy just for the fun of it

-The moment the clock strikes 6 Trish is OUT of there

-Girl is hitting up as many parties as she possibly can and eventually meets up with Nara and Mista at some shitty Halloween party and end up just buying really shitty beer and going to the graveyard or something

-Fugo wants none of that shit

-He’s perfectly content sitting with the black cat that Giorno made him and watching shitty reruns of whatever’s on

-Bruno takes out his tacky Halloween apron that definitely looks something like this

-Fugo helps him make all this really good spooky-themed dessert shit and helps him sort the candy in the nut and nut-free bowls :))) (because Bruno really goes and does that)

-Abbacchio seems like the kind of person who would go really fucking hard with Halloween decorations

-Like, no explanation why, he just loves it and everyone knows not to get in his way

-The moment October 1st comes around, this man is in his ELEMENT. He’s READY.

-It’s the one month where he looks anywhere near normal compared to other people and man is ready to rock that shit

-Later that night they go to check on Giorno and find him asleep surrounded by bags of candy

-Turns out he snuck out and had a good time after all :’)

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

You’re wondering why I skipped part 4, right? ↓ ↓ 

I’m sorry to disappoint y’all, but I don’t think I’m gonna be doing much for Whumptober this year! (I’m just shit at monthly challenges in general lmao) but I think y’all need a breather from all this giant dump of whumpy stuff coming this month, so I, your dear friend Cherry, have decided to write fics throughout the month that I dub SOFT HALLOWEEN :D  (with uhhh a side of whump and hurt/comfort and all that shit because I can’t help myself)

It’s gonna vary (hopefully from parts 1-5)! I didn’t add any part four headcanons in here because Jade and I are literally writing part 4 shenanigans first and we didn’t wanna spoil anything :)

SPEAKING OF SPOILERS here’s a horrifying, blurry, teaser picture that’s only gonna make sense once you read the fic:

Isn’t it beautiful?

Hope you enjoyed these!! Tell me what you want the Jojos to do on Halloween!

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

Ok so apparently its not normal to sort your candy by type, count it all out and then put it into a spreadsheet which then gets made into a graph? Because I did that. EVERY. FUCKING. YEAR. Ask Jade​. She was there every goddamn time. Please I’m begging you someone else tell me you did shit like this I need to know

[elleroodles]

hi el! absolutely love the new desktop theme, maybe perhaps slightly more because i am on the list of bangin blogs 😊 also would love some music recs!!

hi hi celie! thank you very much, the layout of my actual twitter is a hot mess (along with twitter as a whole) so this is a fitting remedy. plus it was super customizable, which i liked. and i got to have a little list of all my rad mutuals!! it’s a win win situation!!

okay so!! i feel like i have a pretty good grasp on your music taste so i do feel a little bit cocky writing this, but i checked out orla gartland a little bit ago and really enjoyed some of her stuff (heavy was my favorite i think) so these first few have those kind of vibes i suppose? so first up i got adam melchor, who i discovered through his performance at the sos fest, and that’s a really great jumping off point for his sound. but i think you might enjoy real estate and summer camp!

this one isn’t all that out there, i’m sure you’ve heard of phoebe bridgers before (especially if you follow me lol), but she wins a spot on this list because <3. coincidentally enough, her sos fest performance is also worth checking out (plus!! better oblivion community center makes an appearance!! phoebe’s band with conor oberst!!) as well as her infamous snl performance. but outside of her live stuff, i think you might like stranger in the alps (motion sickness and you missed my heart in particular) as well as some stuff on punisher (garden song, halloween, and icu maybe?) i also feel like you might like boygenius, which is a band phoebe’s in with lucy dacus and julien baker!!

(very quick little boygenius related sub tangent, but little oblivions by julien baker and no burden by lucy dacus should also make this list. also the entirety of the boygenius ep)

next up i got none other than angel olsen herself,, her stuff is like this kinda synthy, really cool folkish electropop? i really like all mirrors (all mirrors and new love cassette in particular) but MY WOMAN deserves the hype it gets as well!! there is some overlap between the two albums, some songs off of MY WOMAN were redone on all mirrors so for a few songs you can pick between the synth in all mirrors or the stripped down acoustics in MY WOMAN which i think is a super fun way to consume her stuff. there’s also a little of this on her 2020 album whole new mess, which i haven’t properly listened to, but liked what i heard of!

now this one may seem like it comes from a place of bias (because it totally does) but i feel like you might like some of hayley william’s solo stuff? i don’t really know how to describe it, but off of petals for armor i’d recommend disc 2 if you don’t want to just take it from the top. the album was dropped one ep at a time before the whole thing was released on may 8th (we r birthday twins) so i don’t feel THAT bad recommending a part of it in particular but!! the whole thing is really really good and i think you might like it!! there’s also the self-serenades, which are just some nice acoustic versions of a few songs if that floats your boat. her tiny desk concert is also a nice little introduction :)

i recall you liking tfb, so now i’m kind of moving into that little genre of music? but slaughter beach, dog is what jake ewald got into after modern baseball broke up and MAN. it’s similar lyrical content to mobo but make it songs that are good to make breakfast to on a sunday morning. i can’t describe it any other way. birdie is a good place to start, if u dig it then i’d highly recommend checking out at the moonbase too,, or if you want to hear a good example of a slaughter beach, dog song to find out if you like the sound i’d recommend acolyte!!

one offs:

october by broken bells

science vs. romance by rilo kiley

as the world caves in by matt maltese

you are what you love by jenny lewis

hannah hunt by vampire weekend

o valencia! by the decemberists

celebration guns by stars

get me away from here, i’m dying by belle and sebastian

waitress by hop along

[song-fox]

Inspired by this post

AU where Thomas is a struggling not-so-popular YouTuber, recently out of school and looking for a better job and, since he’s apparently pretty good with kids according to his friends Joan and Talyn, decides to set up a small business babysitting.

It’s all fun and games and the occasional diaper change, until… (long post ahead) (I got a little carried away lol)

Thomas is, obviously, pretty good and experienced with kids. He’s been in the babysitting business for a couple of months now, and he wouldn’t call himself a professional, but he’s making his way through it

One day a woman asks him to babysit her kids

Naturally, Thomas agrees. It’s just a couple of kids, how bad could it be?

Then he realizes that the woman never specified how many kids

Alright, no biggie. Most people have maybe two kids, four at most

Then the woman shows up at his doorstep with six kids, all different ages

Oh god. Oh god. Six kids?! I can’t handle this. Fuuuuu-

“You sure you can take care of these guys by yourself?”

“Oh, of course! No worries!”

He’s in trouble

The oldest is Janus, at fourteen years old. He’s sarcastic, snarky, clever, and hates Thomas. “I don’t need a babysitter, I can take care of myself!”

Next is Logan, twelve. Reserved, cold, and smart. Prefers to be alone with his books.

Then come the twins at ten years old, Roman and Remus. Apparently they aren’t actually the woman’s kids, she’s their adopted them from an ex-friend who never gave them enough attention

As a result, these kids will do anything to get noticed. Anything. Set a couple trash cans on fire, scream from the top of the roof sometimes, whatever.

Then Patton, nine. Sweet, naïve and almost annoyingly empathetic, he keeps the twins in line with compliments and a ton of hugs. He’s probably Thomas’ favourite.

And lastly, baby Virgil. Surprisingly quiet for a baby, his personality is mostly just spite and a fear of loud noises

Thomas is astounded that this woman can even keep track of their names, let alone take care of them

The first day with them is horrific

Logan is arguing with the twins. Patton is desperately trying to get them to stop. Janus is holding Virgil and trying to get him to sleep. The house is absolute anarchy.

Things are seriously getting out of hand when Remus accidentally sets the microwave on fire

(Remus claims it was an accident, but Thomas could easily see the matches in his hand)

He picks up his phone and hastily dials Joan

“Hey, hey Joan? Joan?! Is Talyn there with you? Oh my god, I need you to come over, quick! Remus set the microwave on fire- one of the kids that I’m babysitting! The baby is crying, the older one is yelling at everyone, I think there’s a feral cat loose in the garden- jANUS WHERE DID YOU GET THAT?! PUT THAT DOWN! Oh god, the fire–”

“Huh. Have you tried making s'mores?”

“jOAN PLEASE TAKE THIS SERIOUSLY–”

Eventually everything is under control. The fire is put out, the cat is back to its owner, Virgil has stopped crying and the twins are content to listen to Janus plan out exactly how he’s going to overthrow the government

Thomas is sure he should be more concerned about that, but as long as there’s no more fires

Joan and Talyn are there to support him too

It’s been a very long day, but eventually the kids go home to their mother

The trio flops onto the couch, absolutely exhausted

“Those kids were fun, but I never want to see them ever again.’

Surprise: it’s a weekly thing now

Haha… yeah

Their mom has a new job now, and with her shift requiring her to work for most of the day and their dad working every weekday, Thomas to look after the kids for five hours a week

Five

Hours

Thomas is sure he’s gonna die

The next time they meet goes just about as well as you’d think

There’s crude drawings on the wall, Logan has threatened to smack Janus with a book at least three times, and there’s a knife missing from the kitchen

Next week there’s a food fight

After that Patton shows up with a stray hedgehog

After that Virgil somehow manages to get stuck in the kitchen sink

After that Logan almost accidentally starts a pillow fight with Thomas’ couch cushions

Then suddenly, everything is chill

The twins are more energised than chaotic, Virgil is calm, the rest are content with simply chatting

Mostly they’re just bored and too tired to do anything

Thomas, Joan and Talyn get to talk more leisurely this time as the kids simply talk with one another

Well, until Patton pipes up

"I really like your eyebrows!” he whisper-shouts and points to Talyn, trying not to wake up Virgil

Talyn’s got bright scarlet and pink eyebrows to match their dyed red hair

They look at him for a second. “Oh- uh, thanks!”

“Can you do makeup?” Roman asks

Talyn shrugs. “Sure.”

“Can you do makeup on us?”

Talyn looks to Thomas. “Are we-?”

“Their mom said they can do just about anything as long as they don’t get hurt or break the law.”

The next two hours or so are full of just Talyn putting makeup on all the kids who want them. Full stage makeup for Roman, a moustache and purple eyeshadow for Remus, and a sheepish request for snake scales for Janus

“Hm, dunno what I can do for that one… oh! Thomas, do you have like, fishnets or something?”

“What? Why would I have those?”

Talyn raises a colourful eyebrow.

“…I’ll go get them.”

Half an hour later, Janus looks amazing

Patton can think of a million puns for his snake side

Virgil seems to find it cool

Logan is listing off snake facts for the whole half hour, pointing out mistakes in colouring or shape until Talyn has it perfect

The kids leave that week happier than last time and with bright faces of makeup

The weeks go on and on, and after a few months, Halloween comes up

Their mother is incredibly sorry that she has to work instead of being with her kids, but she has no choice and has to leave them with Thomas

She also leaves a giant bin bag full of costumes

“They like to go Trick-or-Treating,” she explains.

Thomas as actually kinda hyped this time

Outfits! Makeup! Candy! What’s there not to love?!

Apparently the kids share his enthusiasm

Janus asks Talyn if they can do his snake makeup again, to which they gladly agree. He’s going as a generic villain, with a black capelet and cane and everything

Remus is, to nobody’s surprise, Beetlejuice. He’s got temporary neon green hair dye and a cheap-looking striped tuxedo. Remus loves it

Roman is going as a prince. It looks crudely made and even a little tacky, but altogether the costume is pretty good

Logan is going as Dr. Frankenstein, and no he is not the monster, and no that isn’t accurate to the story, and nO GODDAMMNIT ROMAN I AM NOT GOING AS THE MONSTER

Patton is a werewolf, although he doesn’t really get the whole supernatural vibe of it

It’s okay though, his little floppy dog ears look very cute

Virgil is a pumpkin

That’s it

Nothing too special, just a pumpkin

He looks adorable though

The night starts off great, with all the kids chattering away and baby Virgil being the world’s cutest source of attention

The twins are loving all the compliments that come with their costumes

Logan is actually recognized as Dr. Frankenstein and isn’t able to shut up about it

Thomas doesn’t mind, though

After a couple months with the kids, it’s kind of endearing how chaotic they are

The night ends and the kids go back to Thomas’ place, waiting for their mom to come back

Thomas goes to get some DVDs to watch while they wait, and overhears their conversation

“I miss mom,” Patton sighs

“She’s at work. She’ll return soon,” Logan assures him.

“He doesn’t mean it like that.” Janus.

“Oh?”

“Our parents are never around anymore. Thomas has taken more care of us in a couple months than they have in years.”

“Because they’re always working to support us.”

“Well it wouldn’t kill them to stick around a little more,” Roman pipes up

“They’re not abandoning us.”

“I know that!” Roman snaps

Everyone knows the twins’ issues with negligence

There’s a pause, before Remus speaks. “She’s just never around. Dad, too. They don’t want us.”

“Remus, that’s not-”

“They don’t want us!”

There’s another silence as Virgil threatens to start crying again

Janus clears his throat. “We can take care of ourselves. We don’t need our parents any more than each other.”

Another silence.

“C'mon, let’s trade candy. I’ve got a KitKat bar–”

Thomas doesn’t listen to the rest of the conversation

He knows they have it hard

Their parents are always working, and they don’t always care enough to stick around for too long

So he’s determined to do the best he can with these kids

“Hey, guys! I’ve got Nightmare Before Christmas, yes Patton we can watch Elf afterwards if we’ve got time, and yes Roman you’re allowed to sing along. C'mon, let’s get on the couch-!”

[thehighlandhealer]

Surprise Date || Deirver & Leslie || October, 2019

Deirdre: It hardly felt like only a week had passed since she'd been here last. Only one week and it already felt like she'd met and seen half the town. When Callum hadn't been showing her around she'd done some exploring of her own, checking out the beach and the river and every bar in town. It almost reminded her of their village back in Arran. Except the accents of course.

There was just one person she hadn't managed to run into again during her very busy week. Time to remedy that.

Deirdre got out of her truck and walked up to her mystery man's trailer.

Oliver: The yard had a smell to it which hadn't been there last week. The stink of stale beer and burnt wood. The trailer park remained the same; someone out there just could not get a handle on grilling burgers.

Humphreys bellowed his greeting before her knuckles reached the door. The same, "Humphreys!" followed.

The door opened after an argument over the frame. The basset hound made a run for it, tripping on his ears at Deirdre's feet.

Deirdre: A delighted smile would meet both man and dog, although only Humphreys was picked up with surprising ease and cuddled close.

"Hi there!" she said to his owner. "It's me. The ghost o' Christmas past."

Oliver/Leslie: "I thought you'd be long gone." The house, limited though she'd seen, certainly smelled better than before; the entryway less cluttered, the floor swept and vacuumed. Oliver, much like the trailer, was better put together in crisp clothes and trimmed beard. Not a speck of engine grease.

From the couch sat a man that could easily have been his brother. In the middle of a coughing fit, punching himself in the chest as though that were somehow the cure.

Deirdre: "I haven't seen Callum in ages, I'm stayin' as long as I can."

The coughing had her peeking around him in curiosity. Whoever that was he was not having a good time. "Is this a bad time? I can come back later."

Oliver/Leslie: "How long is 'long as ya can' gonna be?"

Oliver glanced behind. "Nah that's - that's," he had to stop to chuckle, "that's Les, and Les will be alright."

"I'm," wheeze, "I'm alright!" he waved.

Deirdre: "I'm the boss, I make my own rules. I could be here for weeks." She gave Humphreys a big kiss and set him down.

The waving made her smile. "Steady on, mate. In and out."

Oliver/Leslie: "N'of all the places ya could be, ya came back here, huh?"

Humphreys leaned his full weight onto her, verbally and physically begging for attention.

"What are you trying to do? Get rid of her?"

"No!"

The blond leaned forward on the couch, giving what was obviously his best smile. "Because my name is Leslie Ethan Issott, and I know the best place to get-"

The door was hastily shut. "We're so much better out here," he muttered.

Deirdre: How could she resist such a plea? Back up Humphreys went.

His best smile was very nice indeed, and certainly returned in kind while he was still in sight.

"Nice to meet ye!" she shouted back, laughing as Oliver shut the door. "He seems nice. Brother?"

Oliver: "You're like, the eighth person t'think we are. Might as well be, but he's - he's just a friend." His fingers never left his beard while he spoke, only realizing seconds into his silence. "I think - I think ya got his name n'ya don't even have mine. Huh?"

Deirdre: "Am I really? Doesn't surprise me. Ye look really similar."

She smiled up at him, finally giving him a proper once over. As good as he looked covered in grease, he looked even better now. "Aye, it looks like. I'd be tempted to see how long we can keep the gag goin' if I didn't think he'd say yer name the moment he saw us again."

Oliver: "Ya wanna?" he laughed. "We don't have t'go back in. I mean he'll just stay there until he's hungry."

Deirdre: She grinned. "Kind of, yeah. Then when we do find out each other's names it'll be special."

Oliver: "I've been callin' ya Scotland in my head all week."

Deirdre: "Fittin'. Ye've been Humphreys' da in mine."

Oliver: "A father, huh?" Humphreys was quite content in her arms. Already falling asleep.

Deirdre: "Aye. Ownin' a pet makes ye a kind of parent in my book." The sleepiness probably wasn't helped by the fact that Deirdre was gently swaying, like she was holding a baby.

Oliver: "You're spoilin' him. He missed ya." I missed you.

Deirdre: "It's what he deserves. I missed him, too." And you.

She smiled. "Ye still owe me dinner."

Oliver: "I know I do." It was why he was dressed the way he was, and the trailer was in better standing. Though he told himself, and Leslie, and Tristan, that it had been nothing more than words, he'd been pushed into cleaning himself up. "Like I said," he swallowed, "thought ya long gone."

Deirdre: "No' gone. No' for a good while yet. Ye doin' anythin' today?"

Oliver: "Uh, nope. No. Ya want dinner? Ya want me t'make ya dinner now?"

Deirdre: "If ye're no' busy. And if ye don't mind." She hadn't been planning on a dinner date but she wasn't not planning on it. She wasn't dressed like a farmhand today. She'd even put some makeup on.

Oliver/Leslie: He felt awkward, but only for a moment. As though his brain were having difficulties processing what was actually happening. The door was reopened, the couch empty. Leslie had taken to the kitchen, that ridiculous smug smile plastered on his face as he pulled the top off a bottle of beer. Oliver hated that damn look. He called it; he had told Oliver that she would be back. Obviously he had believed him at least somewhat. All week he'd felt ridiculous in his nicer clothes. And he'd been right. Les was usually spot on with his predictions.

"He's got wine," Les called.

Deirdre: The bright grin was back, and it only grew as they stepped inside.

"Does he indeed?" she said, adjusting Humphreys. "That'll go great with the ribs he promised me."

Oliver/Leslie: "You've got ribs?"

"M'gonna go get ribs and you're gonna behave."

"I dunno what you mean. I'm a saint." Speaking of behaving, he offered his hand and a wink.

Deirdre: Deirdre chuckled and shook his hand. "Nice to meet ye," she said again. "I'd give ye my name but I have to wait until he leaves. We have a bit goin'."

Leslie: "You two don't even know your names?"

Deirdre: "Nope. We're goin' to see how long we can go without knowin' them."

Oliver/Leslie: "Brother," he nodded in her direction. "Do not do anything stupid."

"S'too late. I let her meet ya."

Oliver thumbed towards the door. "Gonna go get what I need."

Deirdre: She chuckled again and carefully seated herself on the couch, rearranging Humphreys so he'd be more comfortable on her lap.

"Do what ye need to do. Leslie and I will be fine."

Oliver/Leslie: "Yeah! We'll be fine."

Oliver trusted this man as much as he trusted Tristan Seger, so why did he feel so uncomfortable leaving her alone? Perhaps he thought she would simply disappear. He forced himself to turn, rubbing the back of his neck as he headed towards his newly repaired truck.

Deirdre: He had absolutely nothing to worry about. Even if she didn't have a precious sleeping dog on her lap, Deirdre wasn't going anywhere.

She waited until she heard the truck start to say, "My name is Deirdre."

Leslie: "You look like a Deirdre. My other guess would have been Olive, or Rose."

Deirdre: "I look like an Olive?"

Leslie: "Is there something wrong with Olive?" Offended on behalf of all Olives.

Deirdre: She laughed. "Nothin' at all. That's my next Halloween costume sorted."

Leslie: "Oh yeah, Samhain," he muttered. "Would you like something to drink? He's got beer, sweet tea, orange juice...?"

Deirdre: "Orange juice if ye don't mind. I'd stand up to get it but I don't want to disturb the laddie."

Leslie: "The laddie is gonna be spoiled." Oliver's "brother" indeed. He turned, making sure the glass he retrieved from the cabinet was clean before pouring.

Deirdre: "It's what he deserves." Deirdre gently scratched the top of Humphreys' head. "He's a good boy."

Leslie: "He is a good boy," he muttered. The cup was brought close as though to smell. With his back to her, he muttered a blessing under his breath. "May luck be your companion. Bless your friendship. May love seize and abide you both."

He smiled as he faced her, chuckled at the sight. "I'll bring it to you."

Deirdre: "Thank ye kindly. So tell me." She leaned back in her seat. "Have ye lads been talkin' about me? He looks so clean cut compared to the first time I saw him. Like someone told him to look pretty."

Leslie: "Someone may have told him to get his shit together." His smile remained consistent. "A few someones."

Deirdre: “A few someones? Well don’t I feel special.”

Leslie: He doesn't let himself have good things. "My intuition is almost never wrong. No pressure though, I promise. Nothing wrong with having a little fun."

Deirdre: Her head tilted curiously. "Ye had intuition about a person ye'd never met?"

Leslie: "Call it secondhand intuition?" he grinned. "You do know ribs take...hours to cook, right?"

Deirdre: "All ribs do when they're cooked properly. I'm a cattle rancher, ye see."

Leslie: "Ah. Land meets sea, then."

Deirdre: "Does it?"

Leslie: "He works on the docks, on fishing boats. He should have gills."

Deirdre: "Ahh that's right. This is a fishin' village. Is he a mechanic as well?"

Leslie: "He was once. When he served."

Deirdre: “And a military man to boot. He’s a complex man.”

Leslie: "I promise he's not. Not complicated in the wrong ways." His smile returned. "Am I being a good hype man?"

Deirdre: “Bein’ complex isn’t a bad thing. Just means a person has some depth to them.”

She grinned. “Ye are.”

Leslie: "And you! You most definitely have depth. I think you're wooing him."

Deirdre: The grin got bigger. “I might be. Think he’ll let himself be wooed?”

Leslie: "I hope he will," he chuckled. "Should I - I should start helping with dinner, or I should make myself scarce."

Deirdre: “I’m sure he’d appreciate the help. Gives me more time to try to make him blush when he gets here.”

Leslie: "Call him pretty. Does it every time."

Deirdre: “Good to know. What else?”

Leslie: "Public displays of affection freak him out. He might as well be crossing himself when he's in the line of fire."

Deirdre: “It bothers him to do it or when other people do it?”

Oliver: "I think it's both."

Deirdre: “Any insight as to why? Or are we no’ at the point where I can ask that yet?”

Oliver: "He's been that way for as long as I've known him, which has been post military. That intuition of mine says it's got something to do with that."

Deirdre: “So it’s no’ advisable that—if we were to get to that point—I pinched his butt in public?”

Oliver: "Oh I really hope you do," he grinned.

Deirdre: “We’ll start with a butt pinch in private and work up to it.”

Oliver: "Well, what do you think I should be making? What did he promise you besides ribs?"

Deirdre: “Ribs and cornbread.”

Oliver: "You're being a very adventurous Scot."

Deirdre: “My people eat haggis,” she chuckled.

Leslie: "That's only equivalent here is...fried liver, gizzards, and chicken hearts."

Deirdre: “Why do ye Americans fry ev’rythin’? Are ye allergic to stew?”

Leslie: "Hey, whoa. Do you hear this accent?" Barely there, but present.

Deirdre: “I don’t hear an accent.” She grinned. “I hear an echo.”

Leslie: "Cheeky," he grinned back.

Deirdre: “It’s been said before. Were ye born here or across the pond?”

Leslie: "Raised in Salford. Was there just long enough to where I can't mask it."

Deirdre: “Manchester. A northerner. Some people would say northerners are practically Scots.”

Leslie: "It's not the worst thing to be called."

Deirdre: “It’s the best thing to be called.”

Leslie: Indeed. "Would you like to help with the cornbread? I'll be scolded if you're caught, though." Another feeling of his.

Deirdre: “The manners my mama taught me would demand that I do, but those are currently at war with no’ wantin’ to wake Humphreys.”

Leslie: "Well, my recipe includes bacon drippings and-or actual corn, if he has it."

Deirdre: “Does he like yer recipe? Can I sneak some bacon to the laddie?”

Leslie: "He takes it home with him." The wire shelves on wheels was moved about. No canned corn. No fresh corn. A simpler recipe, then.

"I won't tell if you don't."

Deirdre: “My lips are sealed.” She gently removed the dog from her lap, whispering apologies the entire time.

“What do ye need me to do?”

Leslie: "You mix, I pour ingredients? And we interview each other. I think we have another five minutes left."

Deirdre: "Better pour fast then." She went over to the sink to give her hands a quick wash. "What do ye want to know?"

Leslie: "Hmm. Are youuuu religious?" He began buttering the largest cast iron skillet he could find.

Deirdre: "More spiritual than religious. My family is Pagan." Words chosen carefully, and his reaction would be observed much the same way.

Leslie: Leslie's body had stilled, and rather than repulsion or ignorance, his smile seemed all the brighter for her confession.

"'Blessed be' kind of Pagan?"

Deirdre: His reaction told her all she needed to know about what kind of person this man was.

"No' quite. What I am is far more...ancient and persecuted and Celtic than yer average 'blessed be' Pagan."

Leslie: Hmm. The baking soda and salt were added into the mixture. Buttermilk to follow while he thought. Spilled salt was casually tossed to his left shoulder.

"Now that is interesting."

Deirdre: While he thought, she mixed. Would he be able to guess? Or would more hints be required?

"Oh, aye? Interested in this sort o' thing, are ye?"

Leslie: "Something like that. You like my friend and you spoil Humphreys. Everything else takes a backseat."

Deirdre: "Well that's refreshin'." Reactions like his were uncommon, even among others in the know about these things.

Leslie: There was the truck. Bacon was placed on a clean pan. He gestured back to the couch. "His veil is very opaque, just so you know."

Deirdre: "Then it's perfectly suited to protect him," she said as she returned to the couch. "As long as he's surrounded by people who can see what he can't."

Oliver/Leslie: "I hope." His last words before the door opened. Eyes darted between the two of them before walking through.

"He's been behavin'?"

Leslie's smile returned. "I'm a paragon!"

Deirdre: "He's been a perfect gentleman," Deirdre chuckled. "Even got the cornbread started for ye."

Oliver/Leslie: "The kind with bacon?"

A scoff! "Of course. I'm American."

Oliver smiled softly to his guest. "Did he get ya a drink?"

Deirdre: "Yes, he did. He got me orange juice and entertained me with lively conversation."

Oliver/Leslie: "I also know her name now."

A finger was placed to his lips. Don't tell me. "Gonna get started on the ribs."

Deirdre: "We should come up with a code name for me so he doesn't accidentally let it slip."

Oliver/Leslie: "I'm gonna call you...Fae," Leslie smirked. Bacon was placed on a paper towel covered plate and set aside.

"What, like fairies?"

Deirdre: Deirdre grinned at Leslie. Getting warmer.

"Sure! Don't I look like Tinker Bell?"

Oliver/Leslie: "Certainly small enough," Oliver laughed.

"Ha! I mean...don't be a dick." Stern face.

Deirdre: "I'm small and mighty and I look really good in a green dress."

Oliver/Leslie: Leslie was ready to throw in another flirtation, but thought better of it. He would behave, as he knew he should.

"You wanted this for old boy?"

Oliver quietly watched as bacon was offered to their guest. His brother looked good with any woman. He didn't stand a chance if not for his integrity.

"Gonna steal some of that bacon fat."

"Go for it."

"Can ya start the fire?"

"Yep."

Deirdre: "Ooh, yes, thanks!"

Deirdre took the piece of bacon and offered it to Humphreys. His reward for being such an adorable good boy!

Oliver: Once Leslie was out of sight, Oliver audibly sighed. "Hi."

Deirdre: "Hi there," she chuckled softly. "Successful trip?"

Oliver: "Mhm." He nodded his head towards the kitchen. Come join me, please?

Deirdre: She stood. Of course she would.

Oliver: "Ya sure ya want me t'cook ribs? If I'd known ya were comin' I woulda started em at the crack of dawn."

Deirdre: "I was warned and yes, I'm sure. I was promised ribs and cornbread and that is precisely what I intend to have."

Oliver: "Ya ain't got anywhere else t'be today?"

Deirdre: Deirdre shook her head. "Nope. Nowhere to be. My cousin's all in a tizzy about doin' flowers for a weddin' and I thought it best to get out o' the line o' fire."

Oliver: "Ah. I'm your entertainment. I got ya."

Deirdre: "What do ye have in mind?"

Oliver: "I've got movies, music, n'myself. I guess Les, too."

Deirdre: "What movies do ye have?"

Oliver: "Um...I have Terminator, Die Hard, Total Recall, Expendables..."

Deirdre: "Ye're an action movie man, then. I didn't like the Expendables but I rewatch Die Hard ev'ry Christmas."

Oliver: "You're right. It's a Christmas movie."

Deirdre: "I knew there was a reason I liked ye," she said with a grin.

Oliver: "It's not Christmas yet, but ya wanna watch?"

Deirdre: "Yes I do!"

Oliver: He glanced to the aluminum door. "D'ya want me t'kick Les out?"

Deirdre: "Ye don't have to if ye don't want to. I don't mind either way."

Oliver/Leslie: Oh. Maybe he'd overthought all of this. He'd wanted too much, or she too little. Perhaps both. Either way, there was no harm in playing along. She would be back in Montana eventually.

The ugly dented door was opened. The scent of burning charcoal filled the small trailer and set Oliver at ease.

The pork ribs had been rubbed down with herbs, spice, and bacon fat, and set aside on a sheet tray. Without word Leslie reappeared to grab them.

Deirdre: Oliver hadn't overthought anything. If estimates on the cooking time for the ribs were to be believed, they had several hours to idle away before their private, possibly romantic dinner.

Leslie would be long gone by then. He could stick around for one movie.

"Want to watch Die Hard with us, Leslie?" And leave right afterward? she added silently.

Leslie: "It's not Christmas yet."

Deirdre: "Bruce Willis won't mind."

Leslie: "Bacon and Willis. Sounds good," he smiled.

Deirdre: "Excellent, then we're watchin' Die Hard. What do ye think about that, laddie?" she added to Humphreys.

Oliver: "I need t'take him huntin' or somethin'. All he wants t'do is sleep lately."

Deirdre: "Maybe he's comin' down with somethin'. How old is he?"

Oliver/Leslie: "Two-ish."

Leslie slipped away with the ribs.

Deirdre: "Still a baby." She gently scratched Humphreys' ears. "Couldn't hurt to take him to the vet, just to make sure ev'rythin's okay."

Oliver: Oliver hesitated. Could he afford that? He was raised in a family that never took their animals to the vet.

"Yeah, I'll do that," he'd say anyway. He didn't know how much his ex was going to want this month. She always demanded for more around the holidays.

Deirdre: "Maybe we can take him on a walk later. See if that cheers him up. And maybe we might walk by the pet shop. There could be a new toy inside."

Oliver: "That's a mile away," he warned.

Deirdre: "Don't tell me ye've never walked two miles before."

Oliver: "I can do it, but can a Scot do it?"

Deirdre: "This Scot can do it," she said with a grin. "I've hiked longer up a mountain, this place is flat."

Oliver/Leslie: "Alright. A walk after the movie." Leslie wouldn't want to tag along. Their chance to be alone, if it mattered.

Leslie smiled to himself and covered the grill. He would linger outside and check his emails.

Deirdre: Deirdre hadn't planned on it, but it would be a nice chance for them to talk and bond. Just like the movie was a chance for all three of them to bond.

A good plan indeed.

"Will the grill be all right unattended?"

Oliver: "I don't think Jimmy or anyone else is gonna just walk up n'steal half-cooked shit off my grill."

Deirdre: "Don't be so sure, people do weird things."

Oliver: "Should be fine." He dropped to his knees in front of the TV, looking for the one DVD out of the twelve he owned. All action, just as she had said.

Deirdre: "Are those all the movies ye own or do ye have more somewhere?"

Oliver: "This is it. I got Netflix n'Hulu, too."

Deirdre: "What's yer favorite movie?"

Oliver: "The second Terminator."

Deirdre: "Good choice. I like it better than the first one but they're both good."

Oliver: "What's your favorite?"

Deirdre: "Action movie? The Matrix."

Oliver: "That's - That's sci-fi."

Deirdre: "With explosions and gun fights and hand to hand combat. Action sci-fi."

Oliver: He had no leg to stand on, given his own favorite. The DVD loaded in. He took to the floor by her legs. It was only for a question.

"...N'I sit with ya?" barely audible.

Deirdre: "Aye," she said softly, patting the spot beside her. There would be no sitting on opposite ends of the couch. "Ye sit with me."

Oliver: He watched her, and he would not take his eyes off of her until settled by her side. The movie began, and Humphreys returned from his trot around the house. A heavy paw was placed on her foot. Please?

Deirdre: Deirdre watched him watch her, smiling softly. That was better. All that was missing was--

Ah, there he was.

"Well go on then," she chuckled, patting her lap. "Up ye get."

Oliver: "He's not gonna." He reached over her lap to grab him. Humphreys made himself at home between them.

Deirdre: "We're goin' to have to work on that." Deirdre scratched Humphreys' ears. "Gotta persevere for the snuggles, lovey."

Oliver: "He couldn't when little, so he probably thinks he can't now."

Deirdre: "We need to unlock all that puppy potential."

Oliver: He reached over to scratch Humphreys' ear as well, if only to bring his hand closer to hers.

Deirdre: That was just fine by her. Maybe she would even let her fingers 'accidentally' brush against his, just to see how he would react.

Oliver: His entire being remained calm. A leather-like index finger slid down the length of her own.

Deirdre: He didn't jump. That was a good sign wasn't it?

Smiling, Deirdre let herself lean ever so slightly in his direction. Not the whole way though; he'd have to bridge the gap.

Oliver: His eyes remained forward, but his body began leaning towards the right, indeed meeting her halfway.

Deirdre: Deirdre smiled to herself. There we go, she thought. That's more like it.

"They don't make movies like this anymore. They're all explosions with no nuance."

Oliver: "Ya gonna see the new Terminator? Back in Montana, I mean."

Deirdre: "No' sure yet. I bet it'll look great with all the new CGI and things but I'm kind of worried they'll ruin it."

Oliver: "Probably." Another bout of staring at the TV. He would just keep his eyes there. "Ya wanna see somethin' while you're here?"

Deirdre: Oh good, maybe then he wouldn't notice when hers drifted over to him every now and then.

"I would love to," she said with a grin. "Anything you've got your eye on?"

Oliver: He could hear the smile in her tone, and turned just in time to catch it.

"Just you."

Deirdre: The smile wasn't going anywhere. In fact, it grew. "Such a good answer. I'm flattered."

Oliver: "Maybe by then I'll have your name."

Deirdre: “If ye’re lucky. Maybe I’ll know yers, too.”

Oliver: "Les told ya, didn't he?"

Deirdre: “He didn’t actually. Ye’re still a mystery man.”

Oliver: "What do I look like?"

Deirdre: “Hmmm...” She turned so she could look at him properly. He had a strong face. He needed a strong name.

“Somethin’....manly. Like John or Caleb or Brock.”

Oliver: "Ha!" he smiled. He wanted to be on the other side of the couch, if only to rest his arm. Something to fidget with. Her eyes were too kind. He'd never seen a woman balance delicate and strong so effortlessly.

"Caleb is manly?"

Deirdre: “Verra manly. I have a cousin named Caleb and he’s the biggest man I’ve ever seen. He’s a champion caber tosser.”

Oliver: "A what now?"

Deirdre: “It’s a traditional event at the Highland games. Strong men and women take turns tossing a giant pole the size of a small tree as far as they can.”

Oliver: "That's...okay." He had to process that a moment. "Ya into Crossfit?"

Deirdre: “I don’t have enough time to dedicate to it. I just work outside and use the fancy treadmill my sister got for the house.”

Oliver: "Ever go huntin'?"

Deirdre: I can’t even begin to tell you. “Of course. I’m Scottish.”

Oliver: "What cha like to hunt?"

Deirdre: “Deer. I make a lovely venison pie.”

Oliver: All he could imagine was a pumpkin pie stuffed with wild game. He shook that thought away with a chuckle. "Gotta be somethin' wrong with ya. I can't find it, though."

Deirdre: “Call my sister,” she chuckled. “I’m sure she can come up with a thing or seven.”

Oliver: "That's what siblings are supposed to do, though."

Deirdre: "True. She'd also sing my praises if I asked her to." As she would if Bronwyn asked the same of her. "Ye have any siblings?"

Oliver: Mm. "No. None of them."

Deirdre: "Did ye ever want one?"

Oliver: "...No. I didn't grow up where..." He might as well say it. "I was in foster care."

Deirdre: Deirdre didn't even blink, but her heart did hurt a bit for the little boy he had been. "That's a rough way to start life," she said softly.

Oliver: "I guess. If ya never had somethin' ya can't miss it. Right?"

Deirdre: "Maybe ye can't miss it, but ye can long for it." Which was worse, she wondered.

Oliver: "Shit could be worse. I've seen worse."

Deirdre: Despite having just met him, she hated that he'd seen worse. And that that worse surpassed having grown up in foster care.

"And now? Things lookin' up?"

Oliver: Maybe. He shrugged. "Yeah. Sure." He should say more. "I didn't have an arm blown off in the Middle East." Smooth.

Deirdre: "There's that at least," she gave him a small smile. "Hell of a ruler ye're usin' to measure against."

Oliver: "Sorry. M'not very good at...this."

Deirdre: "Good at what? Watchin' movies?"

Oliver: "Ya know what I mean."

Deirdre: "Havin' a conversation?" She smiled. "Doin' all right from where I'm sittin'."

Oliver/Leslie: "I ain't...like..." Les, still sitting outside playing on his phone and minding the ribs.

Deirdre: "Ye don't have to be like anythin'. I like what I've got in front o' me."

Oliver: "Your standards are low. Low," he teased.

Deirdre: She laughed softly. "My standards are excellent, thank ye very much.”

Oliver/Leslie: It was probably time to leave. In fact he was overdue to make some excuse. Leslie poked his head in and smiled. "Gonna walk home now, man."

"Mm. Okay." He uncrossed his arm long enough to wave.

"See you later, maybe?" Oliver was in good hands. He'd never heard of an unsavory druid.

The door shut was shut behind him. Oliver took a breath. "I should see what he's done t'my ribs."

Deirdre: Deirdre smiled over at Leslie. "See you later!" Her mystery man was in good hands indeed.

Already she was learning about him, and she planned to learn much more before the day was done.

"Ye picky about yer ribs?"

Oliver: "I don't want em cooked like a steak." He got to his feet, hesitating for Leslie to put some distance from the trailer. "Don't get up."

Deirdre: "Low and slow is the only way to go. There's a pit master in Bozeman who says that ev'rytime I go for brisket."

Oliver: He needed four hours. Could he entertain a woman for that long? If he'd given that much consideration years ago he'd still -

Quietly, he stepped outside, leaving the door open while he checked on the ribs. The coals were given poke and better leveled. This wasn't Leslie's forte; he was just playing hero again.

Deirdre: He could entertain this woman for that long. All they really needed was a couple of good movies and they'd be golden.

Deirdre inhaled deeply. "It already smells lovely," she called. "How are they lookin'?"

Oliver: "Like Leslie only knows how t'throw a sirloin on a grill." The ribs were moved to the higher rack and the lid closed again. He would return to his place by her side, lifting Humphreys as he situated, and placing the dog on his other side.

Deirdre: "That's all right, ye're here to rescue them."

She smiled as he rejoined her and, now that Humphreys wasn't between them, took the opportunity to lean a little further than she had been before.

Oliver: There would be no yawning trick here. He would watch her carefully while placing an arm behind her.

"This alright?"

Deirdre: "Perfect," she said, smiling as she settled in against him.

Oliver: "Ya sure ya don't wanna know my name?"

Deirdre: “Of course I do. Ye wanna know mine?”

Oliver: "Of course I do."

Deirdre: "Should we break our no name streak?"

Oliver: "We don't have to...but I sure want to."

Deirdre: "I do, too," she chuckled. "What if we wait until the end of the day and if we can't handle it any longer, we'll exchange names?"

Oliver: "Ya can't kiss me 'til ya know my name," he smirked.

Deirdre: "Oh that's how ye want to play it, huh?" She chuckled again. "Well all right then."

Oliver: "Mhm." A noise from the pit of his chest. A sound a beset would make. A sound which came with a smile.

Deirdre: Deirdre grinned. "Looks like we're goin' to see just how long I can resist your charms and manly chest."

Oliver: "Ha!" she'd successfully caught him off guard. "If it's too much ya lemme know."

Deirdre: "Believe me, I will. Although..." She paused for dramatic effect. "I might need to see it. Just to see if I get overwhelmed."

Oliver: "Does that come before or after dinner? Is the chest before or after kisses? Is all of it after the movie?"

Deirdre: "After, during, and yes," she laughed.

Oliver: "So, we gotta finish the movie, we got three plus hours until dinner, and then ya want me half-naked tellin' ya my name between kisses?"

Deirdre: She gave a satisfied nod. "Yes, perfect. Ye got it exactly right."

Oliver: "Yes ma'am," he smiled. "Anything else ya want?"

Deirdre: “Yes.”

Oliver: "The suspense is killin' me."

Deirdre: Deirdre held up her glass. “More orange juice,” she said with a grin.

Oliver: "So innocent," he grumbled, arching a brow and taking her glass.

Deirdre: Cue a light chuckle. "Were ye expectin' a naughty request?"

Oliver: "I have no idea anymore," he said as he walked.

Deirdre: "I like keepin' ye on yer toes."

Oliver: "Ya do that enough already."

Deirdre: "Is it workin'?" she asked with a grin. If he only knew; she was just getting started.

Oliver: "M'on my toes. M'on em." He got on them to prove his point.

Deirdre: "Lovely," she laughed. She had to give him credit for going along on this unusual little journey they were on together. Plenty of other people would probably think it was weird that a woman they were on a date with refused to give her name and wouldn't ask for theirs, but her mystery man seemed to be taking it all in stride.

"Ye're a good sport, ye know that?"

Oliver: "Ya think so?" He returned with her glass and plopped (carefully, don't spill) back in his spot. Perhaps another inch closer to her.

Deirdre: "Aye, I do. Thanks." She accepted the glass and took a sip, smiling at him over the rim of her glass. "No' ev'ryone would just go along with the whole 'let's no' tell each other our names' thing we have goin'. And they certainly wouldn't make ribs at a moment's notice."

Oliver: Much of their night would have felt out of character had it not been this particular woman. Perhaps if not for Tristan and Leslie, either.

"It ain't hurtin' nothin'. Nothin' wrong with playin' a game."

Deirdre: Deirdre smiled, moving another inch closer herself. She fully expected them to be all over each other by the end of the night. "Well, I'm glad ye think so. And it already smells so good, by the way."

Oliver: "Got hours 'fore we need t'figure out what's gonna go with it." He turned his attention back to the TV, but only briefly. "So, tell me somethin' bout yourself."

Deirdre: "Well, let's see." She shifted so she was facing him, scooting a little closer to him in the process.

"I grew up in Scotland, I live in Montana. I'm a rancher. I have a sister. I can play the fiddle. My mama claims I like honey way too much."

Oliver: They were about as close as they could be without labeling their nearness an embrace. He wasn't about to say anything.

"I knew all that but the last two." He thought for a moment. "Honey on cornbread?"

Deirdre: "Cornbread, oatcakes, pancakes, waffles, oatmeal. Anythin' that can have honey on it really."

Oliver: His thoughts were not necessarily on food, but much like their nearness, he wasn't about to say shit.

"Mm." And in saying nothing, much have appeared mindless and dull.

"So, then I guess your name is...Clover."

Deirdre: Deirdre chuckled. "I mean, it would make a lot of sense. And suit me really well." She softly poked his chest. "Now ye tell me somethin' about yerself."

Oliver: "Alright. Um." He kept his eyes between them, focused on her hands and the couch itself. "From Tennessee. Been a mechanic, worked loadin' docks. Prior military. Was medically discharged." He gestured towards his temple. "Migraines."

Deirdre: "Bit of a renaissance man then." She wanted to ask about the discharge but it was a bit soon for that. They weren't quite that deep yet.

"My family has a home remedy for migraines that works better than anythin' ye can get at a pharmacy. I can bring ye some if ye'd like?"

Oliver: "Better than poppin' pills, I guess. What's in it?"

Deirdre: "Just a few herbs." And a little magic. "Peppermint, ginger, valerian, coriander seeds, willow, to name a few."

Oliver: "N'that gets rid of shit like that?"

Deirdre: Deirdre nodded. “Aye. It’s sort of like a tonic. Ye take it and it gives ye relief and as ye keep takin’ it, yer symptoms gradually improve.”

Oliver: "N'it ain't bottled n'sold 'round the world why?"

Deirdre: “It’s a family secret!”

Oliver: "We'll see about that."

Deirdre: “I suppose we will. I’ll bring ye some tomorrow and ye can see for yerself.”

Oliver: "So there's a tomorrow?" His smile was in full force now.

Deirdre: Oh wow. That smile was something else.

"I want there to be a tomorrow," she said, smiling back.  "Do ye want there to be a tomorrow?"

Oliver: His smile created many creases around the corners of his mouth, revealing his age a bit. It was an honest smile, one which seemed to loosen much of the tension in his shoulders.

"Well, we'll see how these ribs turn out. Ya might not want a tomorrow."

Deirdre: She liked the creases. They were genuine and human and they suited his face. "Are ye kiddin', I could bottle the smell o' them and make a million dollars."

Oliver: He opened his mouth, laughed at his own ridiculous flirtation he had in pocket, and tried to look at the television.

"Ya make me feel stupid."

Deirdre: "In a good way, I hope. Otherwise I need to run into yer bathroom and put some lipstick on and up my game."

Oliver: "In a way like, I was about to say if I could bottle your smile...which is...stupid."

Deirdre: "Awww." Her smile softened. "That's no' stupid, I love that."

Oliver: "Mm. So that Bruce Willis, huh?" he laughed.

Deirdre: Deirdre laughed as well. "Ye could totally take on Bruce Willis."

Oliver: "Now that he's old, yeah."

Deirdre: "Ye could take him at all ages. Ye're a big swarthy man and ye've got that manly chest and ye still have hair," she added with a grin.

Oliver: "So this is what it's like with a strong woman."

Deirdre: "No' to sing my own praises but I am pretty strong."

Oliver: "M'not surprised at all. Ya picked up a total stranger."

Deirdre: "And ye were helpin' a poor lost damsel in distress."

Oliver: "You're neither of those things."

Deirdre: "Okay I wasn't in distress, but I am a damsel and I was lost."

Oliver: "Damsel sounds all weak and submissive."

Deirdre: "Nah, I'm a modern damsel. I look great in a gown and I have impeccable aim with a huntin' rifle."

Oliver: "Ah. The huntress. The flannel all makes sense now."

Deirdre: "The huntress, the ranch owner, the lover of clothin' that can survive manual labor."

Oliver: "N'm'guessin' cowboys, of which I ain't."

Deirdre: "Eh, cowboys are a dime a dozen. I much prefer pretty, mysterious dock workers with adorable dogs."

Oliver: Deep, deep breath through his nose and out. She was too much of a good thing. She was making him smile again.

Deirdre: Yes, good. Deirdre wanted as much of that smile as she could possibly get.

"No' used to gettin' called pretty?"

Oliver: "Men can't be pretty."

Deirdre: "Of course they can."

Oliver: "Mm-mm. Women are pretty. A weddin' can be pretty. A flower..."

Deirdre: "Aye, all of those things can be pretty and so can men. It's a universal term like beautiful and gorgeous and stunnin'."

Oliver: "Men aren't those, either."

Deirdre: "I thoroughly disagree. I've got the evidence right in front o' me."

Oliver: Ah. He rubbed his face and audibly sighed.

Deirdre: "Wow, ye're really no' used to it. I'm goin' to have to do somethin' about that."

Oliver: "Look here. Men can be only one thing. Handsome. Most ain't."

Deirdre: “It’s the year of our lord 2019, men can be anythin’.”

Oliver: "So a woman can be handsome?"

Deirdre: She nodded. “Aye.”

Oliver: "You're crazy." And he didn't mind.

Deirdre: “Handsome just means good lookin’, therefore anyone can be handsome. My logic is verra sound.”

Oliver: "Handsome is masculine." This felt like Scotland verses United Kingdom again.

Deirdre: “No’ inherently. Women were referred to as handsome pretty often in novels from the 20th century and before. It’s only recently that we stopped callin’ women handsome.”

Oliver: "Are you in expert in everything?"

Deirdre: “I read a lot,” she chuckled. “Our tutor had a thing for literature.”

Oliver: "Ya keep up with world events, too?"

Deirdre: “I probably should but no. Far too depressin’.”

Oliver: "Stopped years ago."

Deirdre: "It sounds so bad but it's probably better for us that we don't. Never seen a happy face watchin' the news."

Oliver: "'Cause depressin' shit sells."

Deirdre: "And apparently we're all gluttons for punishment. Well, no’ us specifically."

Oliver: "Different kindsa punishment."

Deirdre: “True enough. Still, I’d rather leave that particular punishment to people who feel like they’re gettin’ somethin’ out of it.”

Oliver: "N'what gives ya that same feelin'?"

Deirdre: “The feelin’ that I’m gettin’ somethin’ out of what I’m doin’ or watchin’?”

Oliver: "Mhm."

Deirdre: "Spendin' time with my family. Workin' the ranch. Watchin' things I enjoy. Bein' out in nature." Practicing magic.

Oliver: He made a small noise. "What's the things ya watch?"

Deirdre: "Documentaries, animal shows, period pieces, really stupid comedies, all sorts of things."

Oliver: "Tell me 'bout the really stupid comedies."

Deirdre: She grinned. "I fuckin' love Archer."

Oliver: His smile returned in full, a quick laugh in tow. "'You're not my supervisor!'"

Deirdre: Deirdre full on giggled. "It's so stupid and I love it so much."

Oliver: "Krieger is the best."

Deirdre: "He really is, he's bloody hilarious. Archer, too."

Oliver: "Is it still on Netflix? Maybe after this...?"

Deirdre: Deirdre's eyes lit up. "Yes! To both!"

Oliver: Oliver chuckled, watched her excitement and lived through it a moment. "Alright." He counted the hours she would be here, and wondered, "Ya gonna be good t'drive back?"

Deirdre: "Aye, I should be fine. If no', maybe I can persuade a certain blond, dashin' individual to give me a ride home."

Oliver: The blond dashing individual hugged himself and sighed. "Yeah, of course." Then at some point he'd need to stop drinking...as much.

"Gonna check on the grill."

Deirdre: "Go on then." She would just keep looking at you the whole time you were in view.

Oliver: And his hands would remain attached to his ribs until reaching the door. He returned less than a moment later for tin foil, retreating again with the door trailing after his heel.

Deirdre: "How are the ribs lookin'?" she called. "Cookin' like ribs and no' like burgers?"

Oliver: "They ain't my best work. I'mma kick Les' ass."

Deirdre: "Aw, they can't be that bad, surely."

Oliver: "I shoulda foiled em."

Deirdre: “Too much of a char for how cooked they are?”

Oliver: "T'my likin'." He was remedying now, though this shouldn't have been her first meal.

First?

Oliver returned smelling of charcoal, meat and spice.

Deirdre: He smelled incredible. So much so that Deirdre leaned in to smell him and then just stayed that way.

Oliver: What a greeting. Impossible to wipe away a smile, nor the heat rising to his cheeks.

He made a small noise, something like approval, despite the self-hug.

Deirdre: Deirdre just grinned and made herself comfortable, curious how he’d react to what was now a complete lack of space between them.

Oliver: "What'r'ya tryin' t'do?" Words slurred by their softness.

Deirdre: "Get comfy," she said simply, cheek now resting against his arm. She'd found the perfect spot.

Oliver: Oliver swallowed. His arms loosened, forcing her to move long enough to wrap his arm around her shoulders.

"We're both crazy, but you more."

Deirdre: As comfortable as his arm was, his chest was even more so and she was unabashedly snuggling against it.

She chuckled. "Why?"

Oliver: "Ya don't know if I'm some crazed serial killer."

Deirdre: "Crazed serial killers don't have sweet, well trained dogs and friends who sing their praises."

Oliver: "Sure they do! I dunno any but I mean...yeah?" His laugh became sheepish.

Deirdre: She chuckled. "They also don't help mamas and their babies. Leslie wasn't the only one singin' yer praises."

Oliver: "Gina's good people."

Deirdre: "I think so, too. And she thinks the same about ye."

Oliver: "N'so d'ya." You're all crazy.

Deirdre: “Aye, I do. And ye must think I’m fairly decent too, otherwise ye wouldn’t be sittin’ here with me.”

Oliver: Not that I'm desperate or don't care at all? Very confident, or good eyes.

"Maybe... somethin'," Oliver smiled.

Deirdre: Deirdre smiled back. She definitely had good eyes, and a good intuition.

“Aye, somethin’. Plus, we both like Archer. Only the best kinds of people like Archer.”

Oliver: "Ha!" His thumb circled her arm subconsciously.

"Comfortable?"

Deirdre: “So much.” She sighed contentedly. “Ye’re warm and ye smell good and ye’re comfortable.”

Oliver: "Mhm. I'm a treat." He knew their conversations should be more profound than this. If this was, in fact, a date, then an exchange of ideas, philosophy, politics, financial and career goals. None of it mattered to him. He couldn't will himself to care.

"I'm shit at conversation," he realized.

Deirdre: “Conversation is overrated. The real measure of a person is how they can handle comfortable silence.”

Oliver: Why did that remind him? "Shit, the cornbread." Without thinking, Oliver pressed his lips to Deirdre's forehead, excusing himself to the kitchen.

Deirdre: "Oh! Okay." Deirdre grinned, surprised and pleased at the unexpected affection. "The batter's already made."

Oliver: "He shoulda done the cornbread n'let me handle the barbecue." He knew he was just trying to be nice and give them space, but he wasn't sure the temperature Leslie used.

He made his best guess and stuffed the batter-filled skillet into the oven.

Deirdre: "At least he gave you a head start. Cornbread doesn't seem like an easy recipe to mess up."

Oliver: "It ain't, I guess. The batter's been out a while. I dunno what the hell's 'bout t'happen." He wanted to start today over. What a weird feeling.

Deirdre: "Worst case scenario, we'll end up with polenta instead o' bread. Win/win."

Oliver: Oliver made a face.

Deirdre: Deirdre laughed. "It'll be fine. This was always about the company, ye silly man."

Oliver: "Ya just called me silly?"

Deirdre: “Mayyyybe.”

Oliver: "Yeah?" He walked over, looming with intention, painting an intimidating figure...only to plop next to his guest with dead weight. Her shoulder was given a kiss.

Deirdre: Gods, but he was one hell of a specimen. Those eyes were so intense and a beautiful and--

A peal of delighted laughter echoed throughout the house. "Why thank ye," she giggled, leaning against him.

Oliver: "What cha thankin' me for?"

Deirdre: "For the kiss, ye silly man!"

Oliver: "People get thanked for kisses?" He rested his chin on her shoulder.

Deirdre: "They sure do." The opportunity was right there, she had to take it.

She kissed his cheek.

Oliver: Her bold, quick action extracted a surprised sound from his throat. He wasn't sure what to do in response, so...he just remained as is.

"Thank you."

Deirdre: Deirdre smiled and traced his jaw with her finger. "I could really just kiss ye properly right now."

Oliver: Oh, that was enough to steal his breath. He was watching her lips now.

"Shouldn't you know my name first?" he whispered.

Deirdre: "Aye," she whispered back, watching him watch her lips. "I should."

Oliver: "So... " He wanted to hear it from her, first. She needed to ask, or he'd prematurely end their game.

Deirdre: "What's yer name?"

Oliver: "...Oliver. I'm Oliver."

Deirdre: "Oliver..." A strong, dignified name for a strong man. "Nice to meet ye."

Oliver: "D'ya want me t'have yours?"

Deirdre: “Aye.” But you have to ask.

Oliver: Oh. He leaned closer, caution like a cat. His lips an inch from hers.

"What's your name, beautiful?"

Deirdre: "Deirdre," she murmured. "Deirdre MacAllister."

Oliver: "Nice t'meet ya, Deirdre."

Deirdre: "Isn't it just?" That last inch disappeared and her lips were on his.

Oliver: Once their lips touched, that was it. Nothing about the rest of the night mattered. The ribs could burn and the cornbread could turn to mush.

Deirdre's jaw was cupped, thumb sliding from her chin to her throat and back, sliding over the line of her jaw before cradling the back of her neck. Better than he'd imagined, and he had imagined. So many expectations. None which mattered now that he had her lips. His own were attentive, eager and yet timid, careful not to impose himself on her will.

Deirdre: There was nothing Oliver could've done in that moment to impose on her will in any way at all. Deirdre wanted this, wanted him, and she responded to his kiss with every ounce of enthusiastic gusto her body could hold.

Her arms came up to wrap around him and pull him close, wanting the heat and nearness of him.

She had imagined, too. Imagined what this beautiful mystery man would taste like and feel like, what his name would be.

Oliver. He looked and tasted and felt like...Oliver.

Oliver: He wanted to pick her up and feel her against his lap. For her to feel him as well, to know what she could do and what she had done. He wanted to taste her everywhere. Her tongue, her neck, her breasts. He was filled with heat and hunger.

But he breathed, and pulled himself back to catch his sanity. For why he had no fucking clue. Being an idiot, probably.

"I uh..."

Deirdre: Deirdre protested and chased his lips. "Just a wee longer, I don't smell burnin'." That meant they had some more time to start to get to know each other in this lovely intimate way.

Oliver: Her chase caught him off guard. A small noise of surprise flying away from his throat and between their lips. He had something to tell her, if this was going to go somewhere. Anywhere. It was her right to know. But that mouth was insatiable, and he was not the man to deny her.

Deirdre: There would be time later to be adults and talk things out, and Deirdre fully intended to do just that. She had no problem laying everything out on the table and being direct.

At the moment, however, all she wanted to do was indulge herself and kiss this truly beautiful mountain of a man and have him close. She'd been wanting to do this for what felt like ages and she had a feeling he had, too.

Oliver: "Dee." He'd meant to say her full name, but his mouth was otherwise occupied. And he forgot for a moment what it was he intended to say. Oh, there it was.

And gone again.

"Dee, baby," he found it again. He held that thought for longer than a second. "Wait, wait, wait."

Deirdre: Whatever lipstick Deirdre had been wearing when she arrived was well on its way to disappearing.

"Is somethin' wrong?" she asked, just a tad breathless.

Oliver: "I... No - No not - Nothin' wrong at all. You're perf ... perfect." She wasn't the only one breathless.

Deirdre: She wiped some of her lipstick off of him. "What is it?"

Oliver: "I have no idea how far ya wanna take this, but there's somethin' ya need t'know first. Okay?"

Deirdre: Deirdre nodded, brow furrowing slightly despite his assurance that nothing was wrong.

"Okay. I'm listenin'."

Oliver: "I..." Her host sighed. "I come with - I have a... a kid. A lil girl."

Deirdre: "Oh." The furrow cleared. The revelation was a surprise, but that's all there was. Surprise.

"That's lovely. How old is she?"

Oliver: Wait. That was it? No disapproving scoff or slack in her shoulders? He was waiting for a catch.

"She's...She's three. Amelia."

Deirdre: The complete opposite; her face softened and she smiled.

"Awww. I remember my nephew at that age. Wee ball of curls and energy. Does she live with ye?"

Oliver: "...No. But s'somethin' I think ya have a right t'know. Ya know...'fore this...goes...anywhere."

Deirdre: She tugged him closer by his shirt and kissed his cheek. "Thank ye for tellin' me."

Oliver: "Wanna...kiss me again?"

Deirdre: "I really fuckin' do," she said with a grin.

Oliver: The self-depreciation would come later. He didn't need to be told yes twice. His hand returned to the back of her neck, taking and giving what they both had wanted, he believed, since day one.

Deirdre: Since day one and since the very first moment she saw him, something about Oliver had just pulled at her.

Now he was pulling at her in a whole other kind of way. She wanted to see and feel more of him, wanted to learn the texture of his skin and feel every expanse of muscle.

She tugged at the hem of his shirt. Would he let her take it off?

Oliver: Only if Oliver was allowed to pull her into his lap. Hands fell to her thighs in silent request, searching her eyes as he licked his lips.

Deirdre: Just like him, Deirdre didn't have to be asked twice.

She would make herself comfortable on his lap and take off his shirt, pausing a moment to just...take him in.

Oliver: She would see clearly what had only been hints before. What he lacked in piercings he made up for in tattoos. A two-story house on his right arm; his daughter's name and date of birth on his left, down to the hour and minute. The man did not sport a farmer's tan. Rather, the warmth of his skin seemed to end at his belt line. His skin was warm, body taut, gently abused by years of labor and military service.

"M'gonna kiss ya some more," he whispered.

Deirdre: The absence of tan lines told her he spent a lot of time shirtless. The things he chose to tattoo into his skin told her what he held dear. The cut of his physique told her he worked long, hard hours. The whole of who he was, written right there on his skin beside his daughter's name.

Deirdre smiled. "Well, what are ye waitin' for?"

Oliver: Waiting for her permission. To slip his hands underneath her shirt, resting simply on her lower back. Nothing more for the sake of integrity, but still indulgent. Her mouth was his for the taking, offering his tongue and a shy laugh, breaking his kiss with a little smile.

Deirdre: Deirdre smiled against Oliver's lips. Oh, yes, by all means. Put those hands absolutely any and everywhere you want. She wasn't about to protest.

And that tongue? It was all hers.

Oliver: He wasn't going to question why it was this crazy beautiful woman was in his lap, why she was in his tattered trailer, why she was going out of her way to spend time with him. She didn't even live in this state, he reminded himself. This was how things could go terribly wrong, and yet he shivered into their kiss, pressed her body against his own and sighed.

Deirdre: The distance between their homes wasn't even a blip on Deirdre's radar. She knew how to bridge gaps in ways he couldn't imagine, at least not yet. This little matter of living on opposite sides of the country was just that: a little matter.

"I can hear ye thinkin'," she whispered.

Oliver: "Ya think so?"

Deirdre: "Mmhmm." She nipped his bottom lip. "I'm magic that way."

Oliver: "What m'I thinkin' then?" He chased those lips.

Deirdre: "That I can't say. I can just hear the wheels in yer head turnin'."

Oliver: "Click click click?"

Deirdre: "Like a well-oiled manly machine."

Oliver: "S'just thoughts of you."

Deirdre: "Well color me flattered." She pulled him in for more kisses.

Oliver: His hands climbed another inch and massaged. He could smell the cornbread and the barbeque and her perfume and something about the mixture made him want to laugh. The absurdity, he guessed. He managed to refrain to just a smile.

Deirdre: She could feel his smile and it brought on one of her own. She'd give anything to know what we was thinking. "Ye can take it off, ye know," Deirdre murmured.

Oliver: "Your shirt?"

Deirdre: "Aye. It's only fair."

Oliver: He wouldn't ask twice. "Arms up."

Deirdre: Up they went. As her shirt came off, it would reveal a candy pink bra and on her back, a large tattoo and several long healed scars.

Oliver: Oliver's brow wrinkled. He had followed the shirt up her back, only to find a familiar texture of trauma. He didn't want to ask; a part of him didn't want to see, but he was curious. Instead, he smiled at her bra. He'd half-expected something nude.

"Comfortable?"

Deirdre: “Very,” she said, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Don’t worry about the scars. They look worse than they are. A horse threw me when I was a teenager and I had a rough landin’.”

Oliver: "I was wonderin'," he said quietly.

Deirdre: “I know. I could see it here.” Deirdre gently stroked the furrow in his brow. “It happened years ago. They healed.”

Oliver: "You're okay." His way of saying he didn't think any less of her beauty. "I got all sorts of shit, most ya just can't see. Migraines..."

Deirdre: She smiled and kissed between his eyes. “I still plan to tackle those with my family’s remedy. They won’t be a problem for much longer.”

Oliver: "Ya make it sound like you're not goin' away."

Deirdre: "Ye didn't think I was, did ye?"

Oliver: "I mean at all." Both hands roamed from her shoulders to her neck, down her chest and over her stomach.

Deirdre: “I might for a while but it won’t be permanent.”

Oliver: "Missin' ya already," he whispered.

Deirdre: She leaned in to kiss him again. “Then we better make the most of this visit.”

Oliver: "We're at the mercy of the oven." He silently laughed.

Deirdre: "We can work around it," she said with a grin. "And work up our appetite while we're about it."

Oliver: "Or just burn the place down. S'also fine."

Deirdre: Deirdre laughed. "We won't get distracted enough for that." She reached into her pocket and pulled out to her phone. "How long has the cornbread got to cook?"

Oliver: "The timer's on." His hands slid back up her spine, holding her at her shoulders for another kiss.

Deirdre: "Then we're completely safe." She tossed her phone aside and took those lips for herself.

Oliver: Occupied by kisses, and an arm tight around her waist. Their bodies lifted. In a fluid movement she was pressed into the dingy couch, lips with haste and hunger covered from throat to mouth.

Deirdre: So fluid in fact that Deirdre hardly registered the movement at all until she felt the fabric of the couch against her back, so distracted was she by Oliver's mouth.

But since she could, she was just going to wrap herself around him like a particularly amorous snake so she could keep him right where she wanted him and feel as much of him as she could.

Oliver: Being so close, so warm and inviting, it hardly registered to Oliver that he had pressed himself against her, relieving himself and offering well-deserved friction in return.

"Mnn, fuck, sorry." Although what for he couldn't say. This was to be expected from pressing her body into the couch.

Deirdre: Deirdre purred beneath him, lifting her hips toward his. The last thing in the world he had to be was sorry.

"No sorry, just more."

Oliver: Fuck. She would feel a distinctive pulse between them. Her command would be obeyed, lips blindly in search of hers as he began a grinding rhythm.

Deirdre: She moaned into his kiss in both approval and encouragement. It seemed as though she could feel every inch of him and yet she wanted more. More heat, more friction, more him.

Deirdre freed one of her arms and felt around for the closure of his jeans.

Oliver: He swept his tongue over her lips, tasted her, and then realized where her hand was going.

"What d'ya want?"

Deirdre: Deirdre grinned as she finally got his button and zipper undone.

"You."

Oliver: "How much of me?" She knew his not-so-secret, but was there something else? Some caution he should be taking? His head was swimming with her, and he felt careless.

Deirdre: “As much as ye’re willin’ to give.” That was the important thing to her in this moment.

Oliver: His voice was gentle, careful even as he spoke nose-to-nose. "Tell me, crazy. D'ya want me t'fuck you?"

Deirdre: She smiled and leaned up for a teeny kiss. "Aye. I really do. Ye okay with that?"

Oliver: He would answer in action, lifting up and taking her clothes with him. Away with her jeans. Tossed into the accumulating pile with socks and panties. Careful, he told himself. Be very fucking careful not to - to what? She was the forward in this pairing. And he wanted her. He kissed her ankle like her lips. Left a trail of what towards her thigh.

Deirdre: Deirdre was all too happy to help him take off the rest of her clothes, completely comfortable in her bare skin and eager to feel all of his.

She made a happy little sound at the kiss, reaching for him.

"Get those lips up here, I miss them."

Oliver: "Up there?" he breathed against her skin. "But I like down here. Feels good." He was still clothed. Half-clothed, but enough incentive to take her hands and press against his jeans.

Deirdre: She grinned like the cat that caught the canary and slid those jeans as far down as she possibly could. She wanted to get her hands on all that lovely skin and muscle.

"Ye're right. Down here feels fantastic."

Oliver: Goddamn, she was beautiful. More delicate looking than he anticipated. He just wanted to remain on his knees, between her legs, admiring.

"Ya still want my lips?"

Deirdre: She reached for him again. "Aye, come over here so I can get back to bein' an octopus."

Oliver: He knew how they could compromise. Her small frame was pulled to his chest. Another flip. He wanted to see how she and feel everything within his power.

"Be an octopus, baby."

Deirdre: Deirdre didn't have to be told twice. She wrapped herself as completely around Oliver as was physically possible, stealing his lips as she let her hands roam.

She wanted to learn all of him, feel all of him, have all of him.

Oliver: A massive arm draped over her tiny waist. For a moment he worried the weight would be uncomfortable for her, before allowing himself to relax.

That itching thought again.

But still, he rubbed himself against her, allowed her to feel what she had done.

Deirdre: Oliver's arm on her waist was received with a content little purr that turned into a soft moan.

She pressed closer to him, seeking more friction for them both. Was she being too eager? Probably. Did she care?

Not a single bit.

Oliver: When Oliver finally reached between them, it was in an attempt to grasp himself, to rub with purpose against her clit, seeking mutual relief.

But he just had to say it.

"Con - Condoms."

Deirdre: Deirdre moaned again, hips slowly beginning to move of their own accord in pursuit of more; more pleasure, more relief, more closeness, more. The ache starting to build was almost enough to drive all precaution out of her head, but thankfully, not his.

"Where?" she asked between kisses.

Oliver: "Bathroom." One of them needed to get up, but he sure as hell didn't want to break their spell.

Deirdre: She groaned in protest. Dammit. Why the hell didn't she have any summoning powers? They would really come in handy in times like these where getting up was the absolute last thing she wanted to do.

Rather than ask which one of them was going to go get them, she just ground her hips harder.

Oliver: Fuck. Her vigor was met with his own, pressing, teasing, and somehow restraining that very real urge to shove himself inside.

"You're killin' me, crazy."

Deirdre: "Said the pot to the kettle," she said around a breathy laugh, squeezing her legs around him. God, she wished he would just get in her. There really wasn't any reason for him not to.

She gave him one last kiss before pulling back a bit. "Grown up question. Ev'rythin' squared away down there?"

Oliver: A question to clear Oliver's throat. "I uh... yeah. Yeah I'm - last I checked." He never even thought to question that. His only concern had been children. He loved his daughter, but she had been the result of just this kind of recklessness.

Deirdre: "Brilliant, fuck the bloody condom." And back in she went for more kisses. She was a magical creature with magical birth control; a condom would only help with a mess she didn't give a single damn about.

Oliver: Both hands came to grip at her hips, squeezing and massaging. He wanted to be mindful. He wanted to put his foot down and carry her to the bathroom if need be, but he could hardly breathe between kisses, let alone think properly.

"Sit on it."

Deirdre: There was no need for anything except moving against him and breathing, which Deirdre finally let Oliver do as she took him at his word.

She lifted herself and reached for him, slowly guiding him inside her with a drawn out, relieved moan.

Oliver: "Fuck," was the only word in his vocabulary, pulling her back to his mouth. He wished he'd have gone down on her first. Maybe a mutual taste of each other on their tongues. He wanted to claim her in all things. He wanted to be claimed. He was stupidly in lust.

Deirdre: They had hours ahead of them, ready to be filled with just this.

But Deirdre wasn't thinking that far ahead quite yet. Her mind and her body were wholly consumed with the now, with the taste of him on her lips, the feel and heat of him inside her. Every little movement, fluid and graceful as it was, brought an equal measure of madness and relief.

Deirdre squeezed around him with all the muscles she possessed. However close they were, she wanted to be even closer. However many kisses he gave, she wanted even more. She wanted to be utterly consumed by Oliver Cole.

Oliver: Oliver was riding on the high of base needs. Nothing was more important than the feel of her skin and the tightness of her body. He felt at her stomach, ribs, breasts; caressed his way to her throat and down across her shoulders.

"Bounce for me."

Deirdre: She was bouncing before he even finished his sentence, shameless in her need and enthusiasm.  Her hair had come loose from its braid and paired with the thin sheen of sweat and her flushed skin, she looked very happily disheveled.

And just a little bit wicked as she bore down on him with each downward motion.

Oliver: Her breasts were pressed together and brought forward to kiss and lick. A particularly deep roll of her hips, and he began to suck. Fuck the grill and fuck the oven. It was going to beep any minute now. Let it burn.

Deirdre: Deirdre's breath stuttered around a soft little moan, tangling one hand in Oliver's hair to keep him close to her breast and using the other to brace herself on the couch.

The oven and the grill and their impending dinner were vague specks in her subconscious. She couldn't have begun to worry about them if she tried. There was only Oliver and what she was doing to him and what he was doing to her and how it was making her feel. There was only the building pleasure at her core and the needy pursuit of it.

Oliver: There was something absolutely fucking satisfying about being used by a woman for pleasure. There was no conceivable image that could beat a woman bouncing on cock.

Softly he bit a her, licked in feigned apology only to repeat his offense. His stomach and scrotum tightened for the inevitable.

"Fuckin' cum for me, crazy girl."

Deirdre: Gentle as it was, the bite made a pleased little sound escape Deirdre that landed somewhere between a gasp and a laugh and an approving hum.

So that's the way he wanted to play it, was it? Well that was just fine by her.

She released his head just long enough to guide his lips back to hers, kissing him for all she was worth as she squeezed around him again and let her hips pick up the pace.

Just a few moments more and she'd be gasping and crying out against his lips as she climaxed.

Oliver: Light scratches of worn fingernails down her spine. Encouraging squeeze of her hips. A gently playful bite to her swollen bottom lip. They would gasp in unison. He could feel her orgasm and it was fucking beautiful.

"Don't fuckin' stop. Don't stop. Fuckin' cum." So much he wanted to fill her. Watch himself drip down her thighs, mixed scents and maybe even savor the taste of her. But there was logic, once again, putting a damper on his fantasies.

"M'gonna cum." He raised her by her ribs in an attempt to rescue the situation.

Deirdre: Any tension she might have been carrying in any part of her body melted away with each pulsing wave of sensation. A delicate little furrow creased her brow as she rode them out, not the least bit shy about how loud or vocal she was.

And with all her muscles contracting around Oliver the last thing Deirdre wanted to do was move. She wasn't done with him yet, nor was he done with her.

"Do it," she murmured, holding tightly to him. "Nothin' bad will happen if ye do." Soft kisses were trailed down his jaw. "Just let go."

Oliver: "Goddammit." She really was crazy. He just attracted them somehow. And he was so goddamn useless to stop her.

Deirdre was pulled back down. Pressed to his chest to feel her warmth, take her as his own with every thick pulse.

Deirdre: Oliver was rewarded with another satisfied purr and more kisses placed anywhere she could reach. She was still riding the gently receding swells of her orgasm, and every throbbing pulse of liquid heat just made her want more.

Plenty of time left in the day for more.

She wouldn't move a single muscle even after Oliver had spent himself inside her; she would stay right where she was, pulling him in for lazy kisses.

Oliver: She could have his lips and tongue, chin and throat for all he cared. He would offer them freely.

And just in time to smell the cornbread.

"Hang onto me. Ready?" He lifted up to his feet. She was carried to the kitchen, hands firmly grasping at her ass and thigh. "Turn off the oven."

Deirdre: Freely offered and freely accepted. By the time she was done there wouldn't be one single, solitary inch of him that hadn't felt her lips.

"Mhmm." Deirdre locked her limbs around him like the octopus she was, only freeing one hand to turn off the oven for him like they did this every day. "Smells lovely. Like you."

Oliver: "You smell lovely." Tiny kisses made a wet necklace of her throat.

Deirdre: She laughed softly and nuzzled him. "Well look at us, just a pair o' lovely smellin' people standin' in a kitchen, fused together."

Oliver: "Want me t'pull out?" he grinned.

Deirdre: "No, stay." She kissed that grinning mouth.

Oliver: Too little too late, but he felt compelled to ask, "Are ya on the pill?"

Deirdre: Deirdre nodded. "Aye." In a manner of speaking.

Oliver: He had to look her in the eyes for this. Jantine had said the same. She hadn't looked him in the eyes, though. She'd been in the shower when she promised. Maybe it had been the truth, but Amelia had been the result anyway.

Deirdre: She met his gaze dead on, expression open and honest and serene. "The only surprise will be whether those ribs on the grill survive."

Oliver: He smiled. "Those got another hour. I got ya for even longer."

Deirdre: "How lucky for me," she said with a grin, resuming her kisses.

Oliver: Saying nothing of sanitation, Deirdre was placed on the kitchen counter. Finally giving himself the opportunity to kiss down her body, worshiping this beautiful petite creature.

Deirdre: Deirdre purred and hummed in delight at his ministrations, sneaking in her own kisses and nuzzles and love bites where she could. The smell of the cornbread was making her perfectly ravenous but even that couldn't sway her attention away from Oliver.

"Ye're awfully good at that."

Oliver: "What? Givin' ya kisses?"

Deirdre: Mmhmmmm. And ev’rythin’ really.”

Oliver: "Everything? Should be sayin' that t'you."

Deirdre: "By all means," she said with a grin. "Rain compliments on me."

Oliver: "Most beautiful," he kissed her, "crazy woman I've ever met."

Deirdre: Deirdre hummed against his lips and wrapped her arms around his neck. "To think that we only met because yer truck wasn't workin'."

Oliver: "T'think I met a woman from Scotland, n'she wanted t'spend the night with me."

Deirdre: She laughed softly. "Well who could blame the lass. Look at ye." She nipped his bottom lip. "Absolutely stunnin' man."

Oliver: He watched her with absolute awe. "You're the only woman that's ever said that."

Deirdre: "Tellin' ye. All the women ye've known have been blind as bats."

Oliver: "Maybe you're just somethin' else. I like that better."

Deirdre: Deirdre smiled and kissed him again. “A good somethin’ else?”

Oliver: "I sure hope so."

Deirdre: Have another kiss. "So how'd the cornbread turn out?"

Oliver: "It turned out," he chuckled through his nose. "Wanna try some? Got some honey."

Deirdre: “Aye, if you promise no’ to judge me for the ungodly amount o’ honey I’ll end up usin’.”

Oliver: "Sweet tooth?" He turned his nose to the stove. "Grab that there oven mitt thingy n'we'll pull it out."

Deirdre: “Sort of,” she said, reaching over to grab the oven mitt. “I just really like honey.”

Oliver: "No wonder ya taste sweet."

Deirdre: "Charmin' as well as handsome. I feel extra lucky today."

Oliver: "Is that charm, cheese, or honesty."

Deirdre: "Complete honesty," she said, kissing the corner of his mouth.

Oliver: "It can be all three." He turned to catch her lips.

Deirdre: She hummed happily. “No cheese, just truth. I’ll give ye the charm though.”

Oliver: "Then keep that honesty n'tell me 'bout Leslie's cornbread."

Deirdre: “Give us a taste then.”

Oliver: He would use his fingers, prying a piece to feet by hand. Not as sweet as cornbread outside of the south had become. Textured. Leslie knew his friend's recipe by heart.

Deirdre: Deirdre took it--perhaps with a little more show than was strictly necessary--and immediately beamed her approval. "Thank the good lord, he didn't put any sugar in it. It's lovely."

Oliver: "How would ya know the difference, Scotland?"

Deirdre: "Ye Americans like things so bloody sweet, all the time. One o' my ranch hands likes puttin' half a bag o' sugar in his cornbread and I just can't do it."

Oliver: "Don't lump Tennessee with all them idiots."

Deirdre: "Is Tennessee anti-sugar in cornbread?"

Oliver: "We want shit done right."

Deirdre: "Can't argue with that. What's yer stance on addin' in cheese, jalapenos, and bacon? That's what my sister does."

Oliver: "What? T'fuckin' cornbread?" He made a face.

Deirdre: "Jazzed up cornbread."

Oliver: "Cheese, bacon, n'jalapenos go in macaroni, not cornbread."

Deirdre: "She puts them in there, too. I think she just really likes that combination."

Oliver: "Well, what about ya?"

Deirdre: "What flavor combination do I like?"

Oliver: "Yeah. What d'ya like?"

Deirdre: "Hmm....maple bacon and pecan anythin'. Spciy sweet anythin'. Salted caramel."

Oliver: "Ah. Well. Welcome t'the south."

Deirdre: "Happy to be here," she said with a grin. "What about you, what are yer favorites?"

Oliver: A single finger pointed outside.

Deirdre: "Just ribs?"

Oliver: "All barbecue. I live off of meat."

Deirdre: "Spoken like a proper Southern lad."

Oliver: "Ever had collard greens?"

Deirdre: "Once. They're no' my favorite."

Oliver: "Turnip greens? Mustard greens?"

Deirdre: She shook her head. "Nope. I'm more of a creamed spinach kind o' lass."

Oliver: "What's that?"

Deirdre: "It's basically spinach dip but acceptable as a side dish."

Oliver: "Ain't even gonna be around long enough t'ask for it."

Deirdre: "There's always next time."

Oliver: "Sure." She was carefully left on the counter. He retrieved their underwear and excused himself to check on the grill.

Deirdre: Deirdre smiled after him, admiring the view for a moment before hopping off the counter and heading for the bathroom.

Some cleanup was required before her underwear could go back on.

Oliver: Everything has survived their bit of distraction. A miracle if ever there was one. He could just afford the trailer with the monthly payments to his ex. The last thing he needed was a pile of ash for his dog to piss on.

At least none of the neighbors gave two shits about a man walking around in his boxers.

He headed back inside.

"Where'd ya go, crazy?"

Deirdre: “Bathroom!” she called. “How are the ribs? Do we have enough time to feel each other up in the shower?”

Oliver: "Ya wanna share that shower with me?" It was as to be expected, cramped and beginning to lean.

Deirdre: Deirdre sized it up and smiled. “We’ve got to do our bit for conservation.”

Oliver: "Not gonna fuckin' complain 'bout havin' ya against me."

Deirdre: "Well come over here then." She turned on the water and adjusted the temperature to her preferred point between lukewarm and cool.

Oliver: Oliver watched from the doorway, arms crossed. She was just right at home, wasn't she? "You're so fuckin' beautiful."

Deirdre: Deirdre glanced at him over her shoulder and grinned.

"Right back at ye, silly man."

Oliver: "Not the same. A naked woman just makin' herself at home in my trailer. A gorgeous, crazy woman, with eyes on me."

Deirdre: The smile grew as she stepped into the shower and beckoned him closer.

Oliver: Round two with the boxers. His arm wrapped around her waist before closing the dingy curtain.

"Ya just fit just right."

Deirdre: "The advantage of bein' petite." She took his face in her hands and pulled him down for a kiss.

Oliver: Massive hands came to rest on her ass. He offered his tongue for her leisure.

Deirdre: Deirdre took her time tasting him, slowly guiding them directly under the spray. She couldn't wait to get her hands all over him under the pretext of washing him clean.

Might as well start now.

Oliver: So long since he'd showered with a woman, he didn't know where else to put his hands but underneath her hair. Massage the back of her neck and scalp.

"All I got's Head & Shoulders. Gonna," kiss, "fuck up your hair?"

Deirdre: She wasn't complaining one bit; as long as his hands were on her, she was happy.

"Shampoo is shampoo," she said against his lips. "My hair will be fine."

Oliver: "Gonna smell like a man goin' home."

Deirdre: She grinned up at him. "A nice bonus for me."

Oliver: "Gonna steal one of my shirts, too?"

Deirdre: "Don't tempt me, I just might."

Oliver: "Ya can have one without stealin'."

Deirdre: "Really? Aw, thank ye." Have a kiss.

Oliver: "No nice shirts, though. I only got a few of em," he chuckled.

Deirdre: “Just give me a T-shirt and I’ll be golden.”

Oliver: "With a hole in it?"

Deirdre: “Dealer’s choice.”

Oliver: "What about the smelliest, oldest shirt I got?" he grinned.

Deirdre: “Depends what ye mean by smelly. If it smells like ye, brilliant. If it hasn’t gone through the wash in the while, hang on to it.”

Oliver: "Smells like me, yeah. N'the docks I work at."

Deirdre: “Leave out the docks, just give me one that smells like you.”

Oliver: "Ya serious? Ya really want one of my shirts?"

Deirdre: "If ye don't mind me havin' it, aye."

Oliver: "I don't...mind. Somethin' to remember me by."

Deirdre: "Aye. Until the next time I come for a visit."

Oliver: "Yeah. Sure." Both hands made a mess of her hair. "Ya want this washed?"

Deirdre: "Aye, if ye'll massage my head while ye're about it."

Oliver: "If ya'll do the same for me."

Deirdre: "I'm massagin' ye from top to bottom."

Oliver: "Careful with the bottom part," he smirked.

Deirdre: She grinned. "Is it still a wee sensitive?"

Oliver: "Still? What's this 'still'?"

Deirdre: "Ah, I see. Always sensitive, then."

Oliver: "What?" he laughed.

Deirdre: "I plan to pay quite a bit of attention to the bottom part. Can't do that if touchin' ye is goin' to border on the painful."

Oliver: "You're... gonna what now?"

Deirdre: Deirdre just smiled. "Want yer front washed first or yer back?"

Oliver: He would let that slide, whatever it was. "Front." So I can look at you.

Deirdre: "Front it is."

Deirdre wet and lathered up the wash cloth and, starting at his lips, slowly worked her way down his body. She would kiss and cleanse his skin in tandem, not leaving a single inch untouched.

Oliver: Those would be a lot of kisses. Oliver couldn't help his laugh, nor the way his body firmed in response. He would not apologize; there was nothing to be sorry for. Not with her.

Deirdre: There was absolutely nothing to be sorry for. This was exactly what Deirdre wanted; for Oliver to feel relaxed and comfortable.

And aroused.

However, she purposely avoided his shaft in her exploration, focusing instead on his legs.

Oliver: "Hey now," he laughed. His cock visibly twitched, needy. "D'we need t'bargain? I'll drop knee right now."

Deirdre: She smiled against his thigh. “There’s no need for all that. Just a wee bit o’ patience, silly man. Just a wee bit o’ patience.”

Oliver: "I got patience. I got plenty of that. M'just sayin'."

Deirdre: “Well don’t ye worry.” She switched over to the other side, starting at his hip. “Ye won’t have to drop knee. I’m goin’ to get to absolutely all of ye.”

Oliver: "Are ya sure? My tongue could be in your pussy right now."

Deirdre: "Completely sure. This stunnin' body o' yers needs some appreciation."

Oliver: Stunning, really? He'd never seen himself in that light. It was just a body. Fit, but nothing special. He believed her, though. That look in her eyes, her warm tongue, was all honesty.

"M'gonna have my mouth between your legs soon."

Deirdre: "Not until I'm done with ye," she said with a grin.

Only after his whole front was washed and rinsed did she finally turn her attention to his shaft. Using the softest, lightest touch possible, she slowly started to clean him. Any kisses she give him were feather-light, chaste, and fully designed to drive him mad.

Oliver: For a body fully flushed and needy, driving to insanity was no difficult feat. His next throb nearly smacked her square in the eye.

"Ahn, sorry," he laughed.

Deirdre: Deirdre just chuckled softly. "He's a lively lad." She pressed a tiny kiss to the tip. "No need to be sorry for that."

And now back to ignoring his shaft as she dedicated her loving and cleansing attention to his scrotum.

Oliver: A fist gently smacked against tile. Something for composure. He fought the curl of his toes, the jerk of his muscles, and the threatening moan in the back of his throat.

"You're crazy, baby."

Deirdre: "Crazy about you, silly man."

It was only right to give him some relief, poor thing. So she straightened and started working on his back.

Oliver: He blindly reached for some part of her to caress. Maybe a teasing squeeze of her breast.

Deirdre: Deirdre hummed softly, moving so she was in better reach until deciding to go all the way and just press herself against him. He could feel all of her as she kissed his back and let one hand sneak around to his front.

Oliver: There was something incredibly erotic about the warmth of a woman's naked body. More to have that body skin-to-skin with himself. Not just any woman. This crazy beautiful creature.

"Where's that hand goin'?"

Deirdre: "Right here," she said, smile evident in her voice. Her hand had stopped just below Oliver's navel and was petting him there.

She pressed a kiss directly in the middle of his back and lowered herself down again to wash the rest of him.

And maybe give that ass of his a teeny tiny soft bite.

Oliver: Jesus. Oliver visibly shivered. He could safely say no one had ever touched him there before. He didn't know what to do, other than keep his hands on the wall and steady himself.

Deirdre: Judging from Oliver's reaction, Deirdre felt safe in assuming that none of this other partners had given him this type of affection before. Which to her was a damn shame.

The other cheek was given a kiss before she finished washing his legs.

Oliver: "Your turn." More soap - no, he should start with her hair. She was going to smell like a man leaving this house, and in a way, it was a mark of pride. Wearing one of his shirts no less. At least, some part of him hoped.

"Turn 'round for me. Tilt your head back."

Deirdre: She obligingly turned and tilted her head back, but first she put herself directly beneath the spray to finish wetting her hair.

Oliver: To comb his fingers through that hair was truly a pleasure indeed. Gently, he tugged for the tactile pleasure. Kissed at her neck and shoulder.

Deirdre: Deirdre closed her eyes and purred like a cat. His touch felt bloody magical.

"How ye feelin'?" she asked.

Oliver: "Like I had a massage," he said to her skin.

Deirdre: "Mmm, good. I'm no' done with ye yet."

Oliver: "What more can ya do t'me?"

Deirdre: "Have to wash yer hair for one."

Oliver: "Yours first." Which he was only halfway finished with.

Deirdre: "Take all the time ye like," she said with a content sigh. "Feels lovely."

Oliver: "Yeah? M'not bein' too rough?" Not as fluid as a professional massage therapist, but the effort was made with care.

Deirdre: “No, no’ at all. It’s perfect. I could fall asleep if I wasn’t standin’.”

Oliver: "I've done that," he muttered, turning her just enough to begin the rinse.

Deirdre: “Fell asleep on yer feet like a horse?”

Oliver: "N'tipped over like a cow."

Deirdre: "Poor lamb. Hard work that day?"

Oliver: "Yep. Sunburned n'fuckin' exhausted."

Deirdre: "Did someone pick ye up at least?"

Oliver: "Nah. Just curled up somewhere else t'sleep. Ya never been exhausted?"

Deirdre: "Aye. I always seem to wake up on a soft surface. Except for a notable time that I woke up in the same pub I'd been in the night before."

Oliver: "The fuck?" he chuckled.

Deirdre: "I spent the previous night gettin' sloshed with my cousins."

Oliver: "No one fucked with ya?"

Deirdre: "It was a pub in the village I grew up in. They just covered us with a tartan."

Oliver: "That the kilt thing?"

Deirdre: "Aye. It can be folded into a kilt or used as a shawl. We call it a plaid but my ranch hands kept gettin' confused when I called it that so, tartan."

Oliver: "Ya got family colors or somethin'?"

Deirdre: "All Scottish clans do. Each one has its own tartan, which is the pattern Americans call plaid."

Oliver: "What's your colors?"

Deirdre: "Our tartan is red and green and white."

Oliver: "That's so Scottish m'seein' sheep."

Deirdre: Deirdre laughed. "As Scottish as bagpipes. Which several people in my family can play."

Oliver: "I already got migraines. Don't tell me this."

Deirdre: “I promise no’ to sic my piper cousins and uncles on ye.”

Oliver: Oliver simply smiled, not realizing he was standing there staring.

Deirdre: When Oliver didn’t move for a bit, Deirdre turned to face him. “What?” she chuckled.

Oliver: "Hmm? Oh, shit. Sorry." His laugh was sheepish.

Deirdre: “No need for all that. What were ye thinkin’ about?”

Oliver: "Nothin', really."

Deirdre: "Give us a kiss then, silly man."

Oliver: He would, but not where she probably expected or even wanted. Lips pressed just beneath her eye.

Deirdre: Deirdre smiled. "Sweet man."

Oliver: "Crazy woman."

Deirdre: She laughed and turned back around. "Am I ready to rinse?"

Oliver: "You're good." And he would continue to help, almost tangling his fingers in the process.

"Sorry," he muttered.

Deirdre: "You're fine," she chuckled. "My hair's been much, much worse off than bein' washed by a handsome man."

Oliver: "I think you're bein' lenient on me."

Deirdre: "I've had a bat tangled in my hair before. Countless nettles. A round brush durin' an ill-fated quest to become Farrah Fawcett."

Oliver: "Why Farrah Fawcett?" Just to hear her speak.

Deirdre: “My grandmama had a magazine with her on the cover in all her feathered hair glory and I decided I must have hair like that.”

Oliver: "Think I'm gettin' her mixed with Jane Fonda."

Deirdre: "Farrah was the one in Charlie's Angels."

Oliver: "I ain't seen it."

Deirdre: "We're goin' to have to fix that."

Oliver: "Fix huh?"

Deirdre: "Aye. Ye need the original Charlie's Angels in yer life."

Oliver: "Did I tell ya I didn't watch movies as a kid?"

Deirdre: “What about TV shows? That’s what the original was.”

Oliver: "No TV where I grew up. Not allowed."

Deirdre: “Ye realize ye just signed up for many, many marathons.”

Oliver: "What are ya gonna make me watch?"

Deirdre: “So many things. Charlie’s Angels for starters.”

Oliver: "That somethin' ya got with ya, somehow?"

Deirdre: “I don’t but I’m sure we can find it somewhere.”

Oliver: "Ready t'get out?"

Deirdre: “As soon as I wash yer hair.”

Oliver: Oliver dropped his head for her mercy.

Deirdre: Deirdre smiled to herself and kissed the top of it before thoroughly lathering shampoo into his hair and gently massaging.

Oliver: "I can smell the grill."

His hands came to rest on her waist, giving a brief squeeze before gently traveling over her back.

Deirdre: "Well we can't have that," she said, still massaging his head. "We have to get it out."

Oliver: "Ya even hungry anymore?"

Deirdre: "Starvin'."

Oliver: "Can't have that," he echoed. "Lemme rinse."

Deirdre: "Go on then." She guided his head under the spray.

Oliver: Oliver held his breath long enough to tilt his head back, relaxing under the heavy uneven pelt of water growing colder by the minute.

The faucet squeaked off. "Stay. I'll get your towel."

Deirdre: Deirdre gathered her hair to squeeze out the water and nodded. "All right. Careful gettin' out, wouldn't want ye slippin'."

Oliver: Oliver looked around his body, making a show of the action.

Deirdre: She just grinned to herself and admired the view. He really was stunning, all muscular and wet as he was.

Oliver: "I don't see the flower petals on me."

Deirdre: "That's all right, I do."

Oliver: "I dunno how t'respond t'that, so, towels." The largest he could find, clean as it happened to be, was wrapped over her shoulders.

Deirdre: She chuckled as she snuggled into it. "I really have a gift for surprisin' ye into speechlessness, don't I?"

Oliver: "I don't talk much anyway."

Deirdre: "So it's an extra accomplishment," said Deirdre, carefully stepping out of the shower. "I'm proud."

Oliver: Oliver caught himself before his hands hovered, knowing how slippery his bathtub could be. Like much of the house, hadn't been cleaned in ages.

"Gonna check on the grill."

Deirdre: "All rightie. Mind ye, don't let the neighbors see ye bare-assed nude."

While he was off doing that, Deirdre secured the towel around her and searched for a brush or a comb.

Oliver: A pair of boxers would suffice. Nothing unusual in this neighborhood. A quick back and forth with pine-scented deodorant and he was out the door.

Deirdre: Deirdre managed to find a comb and tame her hair, also helping herself to his deodorant before putting her bra and underwear on. That's as far as getting dressed would go, she didn't feel like putting her pants on.

Now to make more kissy faces at Humphreys.

Oliver: The scent of charcoal and meat wafted from the dingy front door. The sound of a beer being opened. A sound similar enough to Humphreys' wet food to gallop across the house and down the steps in a single bound, tripping on his ears.

"This ain't food ya mutt."

Deirdre: Deirdre laughed from inside the house. "He went out there so fast," she called to Oliver. "Is that the sound his food makes?"

Oliver: "Yeah," he called back in full voice. "S'a dry food day. He'll live."

Deirdre: "He needs a treat to compensate." She made herself comfortable on the couch. "Humphreys! C'mere, lad!"

Oliver: It was as though she'd always been. It felt so natural to have her, and gave no thought towards her being so comfortable for his dog. Humphreys loved her already, but he was a dog. He would love anyone willing to give him an ounce of attention, and she had her weight in affection.

"Hungry?"

Deirdre: "I'm proper famished at this point," she laughed. "It smells so good. How do the ribs look?"

Oliver: "Like a B rather than an A+ so... how ya feel 'bout B ribs?"

Deirdre: "Verra favorable, give them here."

Oliver: Humphreys followed behind as Oliver returned to the kitchen. His begging was met with a hiss, and away he went to sulk on the couch.

"Did ya want... somethin' other than cornbread n'ribs?" Not that he had much else to offer, but still.

Deirdre: "I'm a simple country lass, meat and bread is just about all I need." Deirdre welcome Humphreys with open arms, scratching him behind the ears and lavishing him with praise.

Oliver: "Wanna eat over here, or there?"

Deirdre: “Let’s eat in the kitchen,” she said, getting to her feet. “Less potential mess.”

Oliver: "He knows better, but he's a beggar."

Deirdre: "Like any proper pup. I can't be swayed, lovey," she added to Humphreys, trying to look firm. She was mostly lying, but he didn't know that.

Oliver: Oliver made himself a bowl of pulled sweaty meat from the bone and crushed cornbread. Hot sauce included in sparse drips.

"Ya want BBQ sauce, honey, hot sauce...?"

Deirdre: "Honey for cornbread, barbecue sauce for ribs."

Oliver: Both were given, leaning his elbows against the kitchen counter. He was fine with silence, but he realized he should probably fill the air with something.

"...Ya want, uh, music, or...?"

Deirdre: Deirdre put an ungodly amount of honey on her cornbread, humming happily as she took her first bite.

"This is fine," she said. "A nice quiet moment is nice ev'ry now and then."

Oliver: "That's nice," he smirked.

Deirdre: She laughed. "So nice. Let's get a taste of these ribs and see how ye did."

Oliver: "Not my best," he frowned, "I'll kick the hippie out sooner next time."

Deirdre: Like the cornbread, these too got a happy hum of approval. "If this is no' yer best then yer best must be truly bloody spectacular because these are great."

Oliver: Oliver wasn't used to such praise. He couldn't say anyone had ever given as easily. Like her smile. Not even the fucking hippie was so generous. He couldn't pin how to react other than an awkward smile.

Deirdre: He was getting better at taking compliments already, he hadn't even tried to deflect.

"Stunnin' and handy in the kitchen to boot. The heavens have truly smiled on me."

Oliver: Okay, that was pushing it. His shoulders tightened towards his neck. Deep breath. "Mm." An uncomfortable laugh followed his exhale.

Deirdre: Getting better but not quite there. She'd give him a break for now.

"What else do ye like to make? Just stuff on the grill or?"

Oliver: "Grill, yeah. If it ain't grill s'them TV dinners."

Deirdre: “Not a fan o’ the stove?”

Oliver: "S'an electric stove. I burn everything."

Deirdre: “The medium settin’ is yer friend.”

Oliver: "Is that 4 or 6 'cause I can't figure it out. Everything boils over."

Deirdre: "It's 5, unless the dial doesn't let ye set it between two numbers."

Oliver: "Five is certain death."

Deirdre: She laughed around a bite of cornbread. "Is that the settin' where things always burn and boil over?"

Oliver: "Five t'seven, yep."

Deirdre: "In that case, stick to four."

Oliver: "S'probably gone t'shit. Or maybe I just stick t'the grill."

Deirdre: "That still gives ye lots of options for things to cook."

Oliver: "Been wantin' to uh... learn... other things on the grill."

Deirdre: “Oh yeah? Like what?”

Oliver: "Like anything else. Pork n'beans. Vegetables 'sides corn."

Deirdre: “Have ye ever had grilled fruit?”

Oliver: "Pineapple. Is there more?"

Deirdre: “Peaches, plantains.”

Oliver: "Ain't had that."

Deirdre: “Grilled peaches are so good with vanilla ice cream. Ye should try it.”

Oliver: "I... I'd - Next time, maybe."

Deirdre: Deidre smiled. “Next time. We’ll grill fruit and cook on the stove.”

Oliver: "Ha! You'll cook on the stove n'I'll feel ya up from behind."

Deirdre: “Ev’rythin’ will really end up burned and boiled over then,” she chuckled.

Oliver: "M'willin' t'take that risk." This time, a smile.

Deirdre: It was returned tenfold. "Well in that case, we'll have to see what we can cook up."

Oliver: "Ya make it sound like you'll be back soon."

Deirdre: “I plan to be.”

Oliver: "How often are ya gone?"

Deirdre: "Fairly often. I go visit my sister and my mama and go to business meetin's out of state."

Oliver: "How often does that lead ya to your cousin?"

Deirdre: "No' as often as I like but that's about to change."

Oliver: He wasn't going to read into that. Not on day two, despite their intimacy. His brain could not process the insinuation.

"Are you um... D'ya wanna stay... the night?"

Deirdre: Deirdre smiled. "I'd love to, if ye'll have me."

Oliver: "Yeah, or I wouldn't ask." His expression shallowed as he swallowed down his bite of cornbread. "I mean, yeah. Of course. I want ya."

Deirdre: Precious man. How'd she manage to find him?

"Then it looks like I'm stayin'," she said brightly.

Oliver: His words not sharp enough to cause a fight? Jantine would have circled like a shark with blood. He wasn't stupid; she wasn't Jantine. Nothing like her. So that meant he didn't deserve her.

Oliver just smiled, brief and blatantly strained.

Deirdre: "I can hear them from here." She tore off a piece of meat and not-so-sneakily passed it to Humphreys.

Oliver: "Hmm?" Oliver looked up from his bowl.

Deirdre: "The wheels turnin' in yer head."

Oliver: "They're rusty."

Deirdre: "No shame in that at all."

Oliver: "Got experience with it?"

Deirdre: "We all accumulate some rust as we go through this mortal coil."

Oliver: "People actually talk like that?"

Deirdre: Her laugh was quick and bright. “My grandda says it a lot.”

Oliver: "What, 'mortal coil' bit?"

Deirdre: “Aye. It’s true though.”

Oliver: "I guess. Ya sound unscathed."

Deirdre: “Time is a decent balm. No’ great, but decent.”

Oliver: "Too early t'talk about it?"

Deirdre: “No’ much to talk about. Shitty people come to all of us at least once in our lives and take a little piece of us with them. If we’re lucky, we can get it back.”

Oliver: "Wish I could agree. The piece from me I can't reverse."

Deirdre: “Sometimes we’re lucky, and sometimes we have to grab Fate by the throat and shake it out o’ her.”

Oliver: "Jesus, you're violent," Oliver laughed.

Deirdre: Deirdre laughed with him. “Fate can be a right proper bitch, it’s completely justified.”

Oliver: "I ain't given it much thought," he admitted.

Deirdre: "Most people don't. Unless they're Scots. Scots think a lot about Fate."

Oliver: "Why's that?"

Deirdre: "Must be somethin' in our DNA. Or our environment. Have ye ever been to the Highlands?"

Oliver: "Ya know I haven't. Ain't been anywhere that wasn't a deployment."

Deirdre: "They bring ye to tears."

Oliver: "Mountains? I mean... I can see that. What gets me is... Ever seen Oklahoma? Just green. Flat green n'nothin' else. No trees. Nothin'. That shit got to me."

Deirdre: "I've never been but parts o' Montana are similar. Bein' a Highland lass, of course I've always preferred the mountains. No' just them on their own. I've seen lots o' mountains that haven't gotten the same reaction outta me."

Oliver: "So, gonna ask a stupid question now. Ready?"

Deirdre: “Ask me anythin’ ye like.”

Oliver: "Ya know how t'mountain climb?"

Deirdre: "I do! Someday I want to climb a glacier."

Oliver: "Wow. Ya just said that."

Deirdre: "I did," she chuckled. "They're beautiful and I want to see one and climb one."

Oliver: "I ain't climbed anything but bars in basic."

Deirdre: "Have ye ever wanted to?"

Oliver: "Ain't been a thought. I work on fishin' boats. More about...ya know...not drownin'."

Deirdre: "Do ye ever swim or dive for fun?"

Oliver: "Yeah. Shoulda been in a different branch."

Deirdre: "Ye could always look for buried treasure as a side job."

Oliver: Now that was something. He leaned against the counter again, took a sip of his beer. "Ya swim?"

Deirdre: "Aye," she said with a nod. "I grew up on an island."

Oliver: "So, ya own a ranch. Ya climb mountains. Ya swim. Ya love dogs. Ya have the confidence of a queen. Ya like cornbread n'ribs..."

Deirdre: "Of a queen? That might be pushin' it. But aye, all the rest are true." She gave him a playful squint. "Ye sound like ye're waitin' for a but."

Oliver: "Probably better than a queen. No one tryin' t'behead ya." Oliver silently laughed.

Deirdre: If he only knew.

"Better than a queen? What's better than a queen?"

Oliver: "The jester," he grinned.

Deirdre: "Oh aye?" Deirdre laughed. "The confidence of a jester is better than that of a queen, is it?"

Oliver: "The jester is the only one that can make fun of royalty."

Deirdre: "Ah." She nodded sagely. "Point verra well made."

Oliver: "You're just smilin' n'noddin'," he laughed.

Deirdre: "Well, I can't help it. Yer worldview fascinates me. Say more lovely things, stunnin' man."

Oliver: "What?" he blushed.

Deirdre: God, that face. She needed to kiss it and she needed to kiss it right the hell now.

"C'mere."

Oliver: Oliver dropped his spoon into his bowl. He didn't need to be told twice.

"Yes ma'am?"

Deirdre: Deirdre cupped his face in both hands and brought him in for a kiss.

Oliver: A kiss he would gladly accept and return in equal measure.

Deirdre: She purred in approval, using her legs to draw him closer. Lovely, beautiful blushing man. She wanted to eat him up, in more ways than one.

"I'm goin' to have ye for dessert," she whispered.

Oliver: "That's the best news I've had all day," he grinned. "Can I have ya for dessert?"

Deirdre: "Mmhmmm....." She nipped his bottom lip. "But I'm havin' ye first."

Oliver: "You're so... crazy." His laugh was broken by a kiss, forgetting all about dinner as he wedged himself between her legs.

Deirdre: Deirdre hummed contentedly. Crazy about you, she thought. Crazy about you.

"Finished eatin' then?"

Oliver: "Ya full? Ain't gotta act it up 'round me."

Deirdre: "I'm many things, but dainty around food isn't one o' them. Pass us that last bit o' cornbread. I'll finish it off before I get started on ye."

Oliver: Obedient, but disbelieving laughter just the same. "You're gonna what?"

Deirdre: She just grinned as she popped the last bite of bread in her mouth.

"All in due time. Fancy the couch again or would ye rather the bed?"

Oliver: Oliver was suddenly well aware of the state of his house. Of his shitty couch. Of the bed that needed making, possibly another wash. The smell of dog and the abysmal carpet. Things he never gave a shit about now glaring. He wouldn't call himself embarrassed. Too proud for that.

Deirdre was pulled by her thighs, lifted by her ass into his arms and carried to the bedroom.

Deirdre: "Oh!" Deirdre laughed as he carried her past the couch. "Well that settles that. Bed it is."

Now to take those lips again.

Oliver: Distracting lips caused a mild collision with the wall. Not enough to bruise his shoulder, but a damn good thump before fumbling for the doorknob.

Deirdre: She tried to stifle another laugh, rubbing that shoulder gently in apology.

"Ye all right?"

Oliver: "Mhm." But would Deirdre, after being thrown onto the bed was a separate question. Six feet two of man lumbering after to tower at her thighs.

Deirdre: Deirdre would be just fine. Delighted even, letting herself sprawl on the bed for a moment before propping herself up on her elbows.

She grinned at Oliver. "Don't go gettin' any ideas, silly man. I'm havin' ye first."

Oliver: "I can't have a taste?"

Deirdre: "No' until I'm done," she said, beckoning him close.

Oliver: "That won't take long. Sorry," he chuckled.

Deirdre: Her smile only got wider. "It's about the journey, lovey, no' the destination."

Oliver: "That's so sexy." Have a kiss for your sexiness.

Deirdre: Deirdre gave a satisfied little hum, cupping the back of his head with one hand as she shifted and gently nudged him until he was on his back.

Oliver: A teddy bear, he was, falling onto his back with ease. Smile still constant and warm, forming tight lines around his mouth and brightening his eyes.

Deirdre: God, that smile was like a punch of sunshine straight to the gut. She wanted to keep it in place for the rest of the night, or at least as long as possible.

"Just relax, okay?" She kissed that smile, then his jaw and his neck.

Oliver: "Mhm." Fingers combed through her hair, nearly tangled. Already firm and wanting, eager to please in as many ways as allowed.

Deirdre: "Lovely." Deirdre kissed him one more time before she started working her way slowly downward.

How was it, she wondered, that he'd never received treatment like this from someone before? How could anyone resist kissing his chest or massaging his shoulders, tracing every line of muscle or teasing his nipples with their tongue?

Had every woman he'd been with really been that unaffected by the rugged beauty of him?

Oliver: Oliver would have scoffed at her musing. Blushed and possibly rejected her affection outright. The women of his life were one-night stands and a brief glimpse at domesticity, complete with nightly bickering turned shouting turned throwing things, followed by sex and pretending everything was fine.

Deirdre was something foreign. Interesting was an understatement.

"You're beautiful," he caught himself saying.

Deirdre: That earned him another kiss, softer than her previous ones but not so much that it made him uncomfortable. "I was just thinkin' the same about you," she murmured. "Lift yer hips for ye. These dastardly boxers are in my way."

Oliver: Oliver followed direction to a T. Going so far as to pull at the last of his clothes for her. Exposed, warm, a twitch with need.

Deirdre: Perfect. Absolutely perfect.

"Such a helpful gentleman. Thank ye kindly." Now to continue her exploration, paying extra care to the area just above his groin. To the insides of his thighs. The vee of his hips.

She could've gone on for ages more, but she'd already tormented the poor man in the shower; some relief was in order. Hopefully there would be more time to torment later.

Careful, lavish kisses were placed all along his shaft, his scrotum gently massaged. Which would get a bigger reaction? Would she only get one when her kisses reached the head of his erection?

Oliver: All Oliver wanted was to toss her onto her stomach. Kiss down her spine and taste between her legs. Fill her with pleasure neighbors would catch through their single pane windows. His body was on edge, overheated with anticipation and ticklish. Too long since a woman had given him any sort of attention. Toying with his scrotum served Deirdre well; head back and fingers through his hair. Fingers through her hair. A part of him sympathized, concerned his thickness would wear her jaw. A complaint he had heard twice in his life. One he intended to keep to himself. Concern instead given with, "I want ya t'ride it."

Deirdre: "Mmm, do ye now?" Spurred by his reaction, her kissed migrated to his scrotum and the base of his shaft while her thumb massaged his head.

He was a thick man--deliciously so--and while that was nothing to take lightly, Deirdre was a resourceful woman. There was more than one road to Rome.

Oliver: "Mhm." But he would let her do whatever she wanted. Within reason, of course. But what reason could he fathom to push her away, when she insisted on being here, he couldn't fathom. They were both happy, and he was willing to live with that. To say goodbye in the morning would be a sweet sorrow.

[triphyllum]

Thank you for tagging me @pinkishliquor!! I have not been tagged in anything on tumblr since I was a teenager and I got very excited to see this... love a retro tumblr tag :’---) 

1. Zodiac sign- Scorpio BABY

2. Chinese Zodiac- Year of the Rat... going well so far sigh.

3. Coffee, tea, or soda- Tea... I drink about 5 cups a day but never the same type of tea more than once? Love me a chamomille, earl grey, raspberry leaf, lemon-ginger etc. Also love coffee though, a good long black? Sublime. 

4. Fave ice cream flavour- The gelato place downstairs from my old work used to do a dulce de leche one which was incredible. 

5. Fave holiday- Probably Halloween, although I also like a midwintery solstice type event (which is mid July here in NZ, so a nice excuse for mulled wine and general dramatics)

6. Fave animal- Elephants, guinea pigs and BATS. 

7. Fave show- Peaky Blinders (I have watched it through probably about 8 times, why am I like this), also Peep Show, Toast of London and Fleabag spring to mind.

8. Fave sport - Not really a sporty gal, but I do a lot of yoga and pilates which I enjoy (and walks of course). 

9. Fave time of day- early in the morning (when the sun is risingish, especially if I have nothing to do)

10. Nostalgia cue- Lavender, seasonal changes, jonquils and garlic bread for some reason

11. Best smell- Anything citrusy, white wine once you’ve poured it into the pan and Chanel No. 5 L’eau. 

12. Fave carb or starch- I love making bread so probably a fresh loaf? My flatmate has made a sourdough starter in the last couple of days and I am HYPED, although its pretty hard to get flour at the moment. Sourdough is the king of breads. 

13. Artist you’re currently listening to-  Recently: Perfume Genius, The Buttertones, Ty Segall and all these greek folk records that are a part of my Auntie and Uncle’s collection (which are good isolation background music!!)

14. Fave fandom- Not really a super fandomy person... Do love some Peaky Blinders content though lol.

15. Hobbies- Cooking! In the last yearish I have become pretty decent. I like to get as much of my meal as homemade as possible eg: bread, pasta, preserves, pestos, hummuses etc. Also linocuts which I am obsessed with (I love print making), dressmaking, reading and writing/singing bits of music.

16. Fave movie- Trainspotting.... forever.  Bronson, Kill your darlings, Pride and Prejudice (Joe Wright one), In the Mood for love and ones I can’t think of right now. 

17. Fave weather- Rain (I’m lucky enough to live somewhere with floor to ceiling windows in most of the apartment and we’re quite high up so it’s pretty scenic when rainy/stormy etc.)  Also when it is cold but bright and I am outside eating breakfast somewhere. 

18. Fave subject- At school - history, at university - art history and some of the more unusual and speculative design papers I did. 

19. Pets- I got my fish tank all ready for a betta fish in the last couple weeks but will have to wait until lockdown is over to buy him... my current plan is to call him Macbeth but I shall see what his personality is like once he’s here. 

20. Fun fact- I have two more bones than I should have which is my favourite fact about myself. It’s actually hilarious. I am a freak. 

Doing this gave me flashbacks to my 16 year old self, which was sweet but also rewarding as it reminds me of how thankful I am that I definitely didn’t peak as a teenager. 

I am too afraid to tag anyone. I apologise. 

[tnbc-thoughtsandheadcanons]

5,000+ Followers!

Thank you all so incredibly much!

I am VERY sorry for being inactive again, the holiday season snuck up on me and I was busy shopping for gifts and being with my loved ones. I’m not sure how active I will continue to be for the rest of December, but hopefully I will be on enough to contribute more to this blog and answer any new questions that come!

The inbox is currently empty, so go ahead and send any TNBC questions, theories, headcanons, etc. in if you’d like!

This really means a lot to me. I mentioned never imagining I’d ever get to 5 thousand, and I still don’t! It’s suck a shock to see so many people in the Nightmare fandom and wanting to see my content/reblogs. I really appreciate all this hype in the Halloween/Christmas season, and I genuinely hope I can continue to bring TNBC news, discussions, and theories into light as time goes on!

I made a promise to some people to get the rest of the Joe Books TNBC Comic pages posted on my blog. Those are still in the works, and I hope to get a Master post of the comic on my blog soon! I also am crossing my fingers I’ll get to post more theories/headcanons so I have things to talk about here again....I’m sorry you haven’t gotten much as of late, and I promise it’s not intentional!

Thank you all again, and I hope you have a safe and fun holiday season!

[hellas-himself]

Crack Ship Holidays

Halloween Pt. 4- Cassian x Feyre

This is the last one for Halloween. The next set will be based around Thanksgiving. 

.

.

.

Cassian and I wake up when we hear Valo at the door. I try to push myself up but it’s no use. I hear Cassian laugh.

“I’ll take him out,” he says. He sounds half asleep.

“I can do it,” I say as I go face first back into my pillow.

I don’t realize I’ve fallen asleep until Cassian comes back to the room. He whistles.

“Wait,” Cas says and Val huffs. I hear Cassian undressing and feel the bed dip as he climbs back in. “Come on, boy.”

I smile as Val jumps up on the bed and promptly comes to try to lick my face. I’m surprised at how much it hurts just to move my arm as I reach out to pet him. Val walks over both of us before going to settle down by our feet. 

“You’re so warm,” Cassian says as he grabs me with his cold hands and pulls me against his chest.

“Oh my god, Cas! What the hell?!”

Valo barks as Cassian starts to laugh.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he says and presses a kiss to my shoulder.

“How?”

“Breakfast in bed?”

“Hm…”

“Oh, I think I know.”

Cassian pushes the covers off us both and I throw my pillow at him while he heads to the bathroom. Valo jumps on the floor, clearly bothered by the interruption. Sitting upright hurts more than it should. My entire body is aching, and my head-

“Fuck my life,” I groan. “Mor is going to kill me.”

I force myself to my feet and walk to the dresser. I make to take the wig off but see blue on my fingertips. But then I hear the sound of water running.

Cassian is getting the bathtub ready. He’s kneeling on the white rug with one hand in the water. I close the bathroom door and walk over to him, cursing the freezing tile floor. I hug him from behind, making him laugh.

“I got some of that weird shit you like for the bath. It’s with your stuff in the closet.”

I kiss his cheek and let him go. The bathroom closet is bigger than my own at the apartment. One side is all Cassian but the other is basically mine. I grab the light green one and when I walk back out, I show it to him.

“What’s this one do?” he asks.

“You’ll see.”

He chuckles and watches me set it down on the counter. I smile at him through the mirror. We brush our teeth together, and Cassian keeps me close to him despite there being two sinks. When we finish, Cassian goes to check on the tub.

“Want to help me take this off?” I ask and hold up my hands.

He’s incredibly gentle as he helps me out of the damn wig and he sets it down before untying my hair and running his fingers through it. He massages my scalp and I let out a sigh, leaning back against him.

“God, I love you,” I say softly. The way he tenses isn’t lost on me but he recovers and presses a kiss to the top of my hair.

“I love you, too, bunny.”

When the bathtub is ready, Cassian turns the water off and helps me get in. I sit down and raise a brow when I see him walk away.

“Where are you going?”

He looks at me funny. “To shower?”

“Oh… I thought-” I blush. “I thought you were joining me.”

Cas breaks out into a smile.

*

I smile as Cassian stands behind me and ties up my hair.

“You’re the best,” I say with a contented sigh.

“I know,” he whispers and leans down to kiss my neck and then my cheek.

I roll my eyes. “Don’t let it get to your head.”

Cassian laughs. His hands roam over my body and it’s not until I hear our niece say our names that it dawns on me that I’m only wearing his shirt and boxers.

“What are you doing?” Iliana asks and it takes Cassian a second too long to get his hands off me and step away.

“I’m cleaning up the dishes from last night,” I reply, wanting to shove my face into the freezer. I must be beet red.

“You look like mommy,” Iliana says as she climbs onto one of the bar stools. “She wears daddy’s clothes to sleep. Just like you wear tio’s clothes to sleep.”

“How did you like staying over tio’s house?” Cassian asks as he walks right over to her. She laughs as he picks her up and starts to throw her up in the air. Her laughter is contagious.

“It was fun!” she manages to reply. He sets her down on his shoulder and walks to the pantry. “Auntie Feyre and I got chocolate wasted. Daddy was wasted too, but it was on grown up juice.”

I snort.

“Since you’re skipping school today,” Cassian says as he opens the door, “I’m going to give you something.”

“What is it?” I hear her whisper loudly.

“Your dad and I would have this every time we cut class.”

“Which is why your dad and uncle needed your mom and I to help them pass,” I say and Cassian looks my way with a glare. I blow him a kiss and give him a wink.  

“Show me!” Iliana orders and Cassian disappears from view. I already know what they’re going to walk out with but seeing my niece holding two boxes of Oreos and Cas with the peanut butter still makes me laugh.

“I can’t eat this just yet,” Cas says as he brings her to the living room. “But you can…”

He sets her up with Sailor Moon and makes her a milkshake before he gets a start on breakfast. By the time Elain and Az wake up, I’m setting the table.

“Oh, nice!” I hear Az say and when I look towards the living room, I see him sit down beside Iliana who offers him an Oreo covered in peanut butter.

��You are responsible for her when she comes down from her sugar high,” Elain says to Cassian.

“It’ll be fine!” Cassian gives my sister a wink and she rolls her eyes.

We all sit at the table for breakfast- and as always, Cassian’s made a feast. I am not surprised when Rhys, Lucien and Mor show up in their pajamas.

“Oh shit, guys! Mor brought Andy for her very first Halloween hangover breakfast,” Cassian exclaims and Iliana starts laughing.  

“I hope this lives up to the hype,” Andromache says with a yawn. “I’m working for the next four days straight.”

“Feyre’s the lucky one, she gets this every morning,” Mor says as she promptly piles her plate high with food.

“Almost every morning,” I correct her. Andromache smiles and accepts the plate Mor pushes her way. She tries the poached eggs first. Then the French toast. The morir soñando Cassian makes every time he makes hangover breakfast. Cassian has to make extra of that and when he leaves the table, everyone’s attention falls on me.

“What?” I ask.

“Oh… nothing,” Mor says teasingly and I roll my eyes.

*

After we eat, everyone gathers in the living room to watch Nightmare before Christmas. I take that moment to go put some pants on.

By noon, Cas and I have the house back in order while everyone else is asleep, or getting there. We take Valo and Iliana outside so she can run around with him while we clean up the backyard. Cassian chases them around and I can’t even be mad. I love seeing him with her.

“You’re the best,” Iliana says as Cassian lays out on the ground. She’s sitting next to him and twirling a loose strand of hair in her fingers.

“Better than tio Rhys and Lucien?”

She smiles and nods. Cassian pulls her in for a hug at that. Valo lays up next to Cassian, clearly wanting more attention.

“How come you and auntie Feyre only have Valo?” Iliana asks.

“She can’t have pets where she lives,” Cassian replies.

“No. I know that! I meaaaaaan when are you going to have a baby? A real one?”

It’s rare for anyone to leave Cassian stunned. Iliana waits but grows impatient.

“I think he’s malfunctioned, auntie Feyre.”

It takes a moment for me to speak, but when I do, I surprise myself.

“Well, your tio hasn’t asked me to be his girlfriend. And I’m still looking for a job.”

“You haven’t?” Iliana looks down at Cas and shakes her head with clear disappointment.

Azriel steps outside and Iliana forgets about Cassian and I. She jumps to her feet and runs towards her father before he’s even neared the first step.  

“Daddy! Daddy! Tio and auntie Feyre are going to have a baby after he asks her to be his girlfriend and she gets a job!”

“That’s… That’s wonderful, sweetheart,” he says as he picks her up. He looks at me and I just shrug. Az kisses Iliana on the forehead. “So we’re playing Super Smash-”

“Can I play?! If I beat tio Rhys again, I get twenty bucks.”

“That’s exactly why I came looking for you. I wanna kick his ass.”

“I won’t tell mommy you said a bad word,” Iliana says and Az smiles bright.

“That’s my girl,” he says and pinches her cheek. “So, let’s go over the controls…”

I watch them go back inside, already plotting against Rhysand. It’s far too easy to imagine Cassian just like that. But it isn’t Iliana he’s holding. I look over to where he is, still lying on the ground. I’m too afraid to ask why he looks as though he’s made a huge mistake.

I go back to folding chairs.  

*

I’m lying on my stomach on the sofa. I have one arm hanging off the edge and resting on Valo who is happily chewing on a toy. I love when our family is home, but it’s nice to sit in relative quiet. Especially with how bad my head hurts. Mor practically begged me to keep the wig after I told her I’d fallen asleep in it. Not because I fell asleep in it, but because of the events leading up to that.

I hear the front door open and Valo perks up.

“Daddy’s home,” I say as if he needs more incentive to haul ass to the door.

“Hey, relax!” Cassian exclaims and I laugh softly to myself. I see him walk past the living room with four boxes of pizza. The smell is divine.

“Need help?” I call, pushing myself up.

“No!”

I roll my eyes and go to the kitchen anyway. He has his back to me and is grabbing plates from the cabinet.

“What are we drinking?” I ask and go to the fridge.

“Whatever.”

I look his way and just sigh. I close the fridge and cross my arms.

“What is wrong? And don’t tell me nothing. You’ve been weird since everyone left.”

“Nothing is wrong,” he says and turns around, handing me a plate. I take it and put it down on the counter. Cassian sighs. “Beer.”

I get a beer from the fridge and use the hem of my shirt to open it. I hold it out to him and when he doesn’t take it, I set it a little too hard on the counter.

“Is this because of what I said?”

Cassian lets out an exasperated sigh.

“No. Nothing is wrong. Can we just eat?”

“You didn’t have to leave.”

“I wanted to drive. Sue me.”

When I roll my eyes Cassian walks past me and grabs his beer.

“I’m going to eat. I’m not doing this right now.”

“Doing what?” I ask but he keeps going. “Hey! Don’t you walk away from me! I’m talking to you!”

“I can hear you just fine.”

“I didn’t mean to shout,” I say, trying to keep my voice level. “But dammit, Cas. I am not Nesta. If you’re mad at me, tell me. Tell me what is wrong so I can fix it.”

That stops him. I hate to see him so tense, and hate the fact that it’s my fault even more.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything to Lia. But it doesn’t make it untrue.”

“That’s not-” Cassian sighs and turns around. He puts the beer down and runs his fingers through his hair. “It’s nothing you said. Nothing you did.”

“Then what is it?”

“I don’t know, Feyre… I just- I don’t know how to do this without worrying that I’m going to fuck it up.”

“Cassian…”

“I shouldn’t have needed our nine-year-old niece pointing out how fucking selfish I’ve been. You deserve better than that.”

“Better than what? You are the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me. What could be better than that?”

He doesn’t answer me. So I walk towards him and hate that he won’t look at me.

“I meant it when I said you make me feel alive,” I say as I take his hand in mine. “And I know… I know no one is perfect and we’re going to fight. We’re not always going to be happy. But I know that because I have you. I don’t have to be perfect and happy all the time. And neither do you.”

He looks at me in disbelief.

“You have never tried to force me to be something I’m not. I didn’t have to hide how I felt just so it was easier to deal with. You love me when I’m at my worst. And I love you, Cassian. Good or bad. Especially when things are bad.”

Cassian lets out a shaken breath.

“And you are not selfish. You’ve given me everything I needed, and that’s all I want to be for you.”

“You are. You are everything I need,” he says. “I love you, bunny. More than anyone, more than anything.”

I let go of his hand and wrap my arms around him. He kisses the top of my head before hugging me.

“I… I do want more. With you,” I find myself saying. “But if you’re not ready for that, I understand.”

“I never said I wasn’t.”

“You haven’t said that you are.”

He sighs. “That’s my fault. I’m sorry.”

“You want more than this?” I ask, pulling back to look up at him. I already know his answer by the look in his eyes, but he still speaks.

“It’s all I think about,” he replies. “I just wasn’t sure if you were ready, if you’d even want that with me.”

“Cas…”

“I’ll try to be better about communicating.” He says it mockingly but I know he means it.

“You’re an ass.”

Cassian grins.

“So… I ask you to be my girlfriend, you’ll make babies with me?” he asks and I laugh.

“Eventually,” I answer haughtily. “I mean, is it too soon for us to even think about that? Is that something you want?”

“With you? Yeah.”

I don’t think it’s possible for my heart to feel fuller than it does right now.

“Good. I want that with you, too.”

His smile is like nothing else I’ve seen before. He’s fucking beautiful.

“Why are you looking at me like you’re about to break out your sketchbook?” he asks.

“Because I just might. But we should eat first- it might take a while and I want to get it right.”

“No, wait,” he says and I raise a brow as he keeps me from walking away. “Bunny, will you be my girlfriend?”

I smile, bringing my hands to his chest.

“Really?” I whisper and he nods. I get on my tip toes and kiss him. “Absolutely yes.”

Cassian hugs me tight and we laugh as Valo comes running and bumps into us.

“Hey, Val. I love you, boy, but mommy and I have something important to talk about.”

Cas hauls me over his shoulder before I can react and Valo starts to bark. He carries me to the bedroom and kicks the door shut.

We forget about the pizza.