#I don't know why I decided James is his middle name I just did

[comfortingevanbuckley]

Just know the day Buck tells Tommy to never call him Buck again or we see their wedding and he says I, Evan James Buckley, take you etc, I will be the pettiest girl who ever lived.

[empress-simps]

James Potter Dating Sirius’ Younger Sister (Head Canons)

Note: These are just random stuff, it has been sitting in my notes app for a month or so? Enjoyy

Oh boy, you are in for a wild ride; just imagine all the chaos this would bring. Best believe you always have a stupid prank to worry about around the corner when your brother and boyfriend are pranksters.

You were a year younger than Sirius, being the middle child, and Regulus the youngest, it wasn’t surprising that you were kind of shunned by Walburga and Orion. You’re a girl, you cannot pass the Black family name onto your children, you were also not the heir. Luckily, big brother Sirius quickly took you under his wing and became the parent figure in your life.

You were sorted into Slytherin, along with Regulus much to your older brother’s dismay.

He threw a fucking fit and practically felt his soul leave his body the first time you told him. Sirius even went as far as tearing up and looking out the window, defeated. (And quite dramatically)

“You should’ve been a Gryffindor, Y/n! I don’t even know why the sorting hat put you in that evil house!” Sirius huffed, pouting.

“Regulus is also in the same house as me, brother.”

“Well it was quite obvious that he was meant to be a Slytherin, Regulus has a stick up his a-“

Although the Marauders mainly pranks the Slytherin students, you were an exception. How could Sirius prank his adorable little sister? You don’t deserve it! (also because James is a tad bit overprotective when it comes to you, Sirius just chalks it up as James being respectful to his younger sibling.)

“Siri, please don’t make Reggie suffer too much.” You plead to your older brother, puppy eyes activating as you heard their plans to set a nasty prank to slytherin students earlier. Sirius’ features soften, “Alright, I’ll talk to James. He’ll be the one to decide.” He pats your head, already formulating an apology for the prank he’s sure will not be cancelled.

James has been harboring feelings ever since he saw you on the train ride to Hogwarts with Sirius in his second year, so it was quite obvious what his opinion is on the matter.

Sirius randomly starts later that evening, “Prongs, Y/n was asking if you could exempt Regulus in our prank-“

“Oh don’t worry I’ll cancel it.”

Peter sputters “You’ll what?”

James looked at them “What? Let’s give them a day off.” Remus did a double take and actually sets his book down after placing his book mark. Yeah, that's how you know it's serious.

“We’ve been planning this for months-“

“Did I stutter, Wormtail?”

The hold you had on James though, seriously.

James Potter is whipped for Y/n Black.

You want some food that the house elves didn't prepare for dinner? Don't worry, James is on the case! He will run to the kitchens and bribe the house elves to make you some of your favorite dishes and what you're craving.

“What’s with the long face, princess?” Sirius asks, seeing you slump down next to him, looking quite defeated.

“Just some housemates, I couldn’t study well because of them.” You grumbled, pulling out your Herbology textbook and trying to focus.

Prongs frowned, snapping him out of his daydreams (which were probably about you.)

“Who?”

James want names.

Who dared interrupt his sweet girl’s (still not his girl though but we don’t talk about that) study session?!

Remus, being the observant sod he is, looks at Prongs, amusement swimming in his eyes as he takes in James’ angry and protective form.

Remus and Peter already has a hunch that Prongs fancy Padfoot’s little sister like… about a few months or so?

James doesn’t really even try to hide it, although it was one of the greatest unsolved mysteries on how Sirius still hasn’t figured it out.

“You reckon Padfoot’s just playing dumb? Even an oaf could see Prongs making heart eyes at Y/n.” Peter stated, snacking on some chocolate frogs as he sat on his bed.

Remus rolled his eyes, also sitting in his bed at their dorm room. The boys in conversation were in their quidditch practice. “He’s quite thick, I bet he wouldn’t even know until they started dating.”

“But Y/n’s innocent- doesn’t even know how lovesick James is.”

Peter was utterly wrong about that part.

You know that James likes you, although you try to ignore it, you can’t.

Because you like him back.

“Go out with me?”

You felt yourself blanch, hearing the familiar cheeky voice behind you.

You nearly broke your neck as you spun around to see James holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers while sporting a nervous smile.

“Does my brother know this?”

“Do you think I’d still be here alive when I tell him I’m utterly in love with his younger sister?”

Sirius almost busted a blood vessel when he found out.

Remus had to physically restrain him from lunging at James.

Yea sure, Sirius views James as his brother from another mother BUT BROTHER-IN-LAW?

“Bloody hell, Pads! Calm your balls down!” Remus grunts, back hugging the boy as he desperately tries to wriggle out of his mate’s grasp.

“No! Let me go, Moony! I just want to have a chat with Prongs!”

“Chat my ass! You were about to bloody knock the living daylights out of him earlier!”

It took a while for Sirius to wrap his head around how one of his brother-from-another-mother fancies his younger sibling.

He won’t lie, he felt betrayed by James for a short amount of time. He distanced himself (for a day, lol) but of course, he couldn’t stay mad at James.

Realistically speaking? James and Remus are the ones who are good enough to date you for Sirius.

“Do you love him?”

Sirius approached you one time in a random hallway. Youwere caught off guard with his question. You never saw your brother serious like that before.

“Sirius, what are you talking about?” You tried to feign innocence, but Sirius saw through that.

“James. I know he fancies you. Have you been shagging-“

You quickly clamped Sirius’ mouth with your hand, looking at your surroundings to check if anyone heard what he said.

“Salazar’s balls, brother! I still have my virtue!” You hissed, “Besides, I’m saving it for marriage.” You told him, making his tense shoulders relax.

“Atleast there’s something good that came out of those boring lectures Walburga taught us.”

“I am not a whore like you, brother.” You snickered, a playful smirk present on your face as Sirius slowly processed what you said.

“Why you little-“

It would take some adjustments for Sirius as he slowly takes in the fact that you and James started dating.

It doesnt help the fact that James always proclaims his undying love for you every chance he gets, which is every time.

Although, before he even asks you to be his girl, he talked to Sirius first, asking for his blessing.

Who is Sirius to deny his little sister and Prong’s happiness?

“I just love her so much…” James sighs dreamily, watching you from the Gryffindor table as you ate in silence beside Regulus, who was uncomfortable and tries to shield you from James’ looks (which he finds creepy).

Sirius can feel his eye twitch.

“Can you stop that Prongs? Just say that to her when you’re alone in a room.”

James frowned, “But you don’t allow us to be alone-“

“Exactly, Prongs. I don’t care if she’s your girlfriend—wife even. She’s my younger sister.”

James perked up, “So you’re alright with her being my wife?!”

Hogsmeade dates with James always.

“Honey, you don’t have to get me that necklace.”

He would buy you anything and everything you land your eyes upon more than 1.5 seconds.

He frowns, looking like a kicked puppy. “But you were staring at it!”

“It just crossed my line of vision-“

James certainly went back and secretly bought it for you.

No one can stop him when it comes to spoiling you.

Effie and Fleamont absolutely adores you.

“So, when is the wedding?” Effie smiled, looking at you and James expectantly

Cue Sirius choking in the background.

You blushed as James cleared his throat awkardly, a beet red blush already dusting his cheeks. “Mum…”

Effie blinks, acting innocent. “What? You guys are about to graduate from Hogwarts in… three months or so!”

Your family found out about the relationship.

Walburga’s stinging slap was marked on your cheek. “Have we taught you nothing, girl?!”

Regulus watched worriedly from the side, feeling helpless as Walburga continued to shout and curse at you.

“You good for nothing brat! I should’ve married you off ages ago! To think you’d turn out to be your older brother… Leave! And never come back as you will be no longer welcomed in the house of black!”

Regulus begged to take him with you.

Having nowhere else to go, you knocked on the door of the Potter Manor tiredly, holding your suitcase and Regulus looking around nervously.

Sirius was the one who answered the door.

“she hit you…” James muttered lowly, softly placing his warm hands on your cheek.

“It’s nothing, James.” You shrugged.

“We’ve suffered worse. I’m sure you’ve known that by now.” Regulus told him quietly, not looking up from his cup of warm tea before his eyes flickered to Sirius.

From that moment on, everything seemed to be better.

You’re happy to get out of the abusive household. Bringing Regulus with you, being reunited with your older brother, and hanging out with your boyfriend anytime you want.

Finally graduated from Hogwarts, James decided to pop the question.

“Padfoot..? You in there?” James nervously knocked on Sirius’ bedroom door.

“In here, Prongs! Hold on.” James heard shuffling before the door opened to reveal Sirius rubbing his eyes, seemingly woken up from a nap. He opened the door to let James in his room.

Sirius eyes him, noticing how fidgety one of his best friends are, his mind assumed the worst.

“I swear to Merlin, Prongs. If you got her pregnant and don’t plan to be responsible for it I’ll-“

James sputters, “What?! No! No one’s having a baby!”

Sirius visibly relaxed, “Then what’s gotten you looking so troubled?”

James pulls out a velvet box from his pocket and opened it to reveal an engagement ring.

“Erm… I’m not Y/n, Prongs.”

Cue a face palm from James, “I’m planning to marry your sister, not you, Pads. I’m asking for your blessing.”

Sirius didn’t think twice before giving him his blessing.

Which was why he and Regulus were dragged alongside Remus and Peter to plan a prefect surprise proposal.

“No no, it’s a bit crooked on the right.” James told Regulus, who was setting up the picnic blanket.

“Sirius, remind me again why I have decided to help this stupidly nervous sod?” He deadpanned to his brother.

“It’s for Y/n, Reggie.”

Regulus frowns, scrunching up his nose as he watches James run around like a headless chicken who’s trying to oversee everything.

“Right…”

“Where’s the ring?!”

Regulus could only sigh as he watched James panicking and looking in every nook and cranny, searching for the velvet box with the ring inside— that was obvious in his back pocket, where he placed it five minutes ago.

[bomberqueen17]

lurkey lurkey

so i had in my mind been like "when the farm season is over i'm gonna get so much done" and also in my mind been like "bitch be real i am going to be decompressing uncontrollably and will achieve nothing" and just as one might have predicted, i have split the difference, spinning wheels wildly and also achieving little.

i did do a final definitive trial of ADHD meds, long put-off because the season was too hectic, and decided that yes, my impression of July was correct, I suck at being medicated LOL

I did start publishing the 150k of incoherent fanfic I started writing in August while insane, and I might keep going on that; there's a small audience but a lovely one

and I really really did take the characters from that fanfic and shove them into a new story and I have written several tens of thousands of words of notes but in the last couple of days I actually think I have begun to write a draft. So.

If anyone is interested in possibly doing some beta-reading, even just cheer-reading, of a draft of an original novel about bisexual tall ship sailors in a solarpunk setting, I should mention that the stay-at-home wife is turning out to be the B-plot heroine (it might actually be the A plot) and the Admiral's sassy gay socialite husband is doing some heavy lifting I hadn't expected, but on the other hand, the children are less onscreen than I'd expected. And I'm not sure where the sex is going to fit in, if at all. But there is still an OT3.

So let me know about that. I'm not quite ready with a shareable draft but I'm two chapters in and cautiously optimistic that this is actually a story. Maybe?

But I'm about to head back to the farm for the turkey processing ordeal, which is a solid week of extremely hard work with a major holiday in the middle with family obligations and then more work immediately afterward, so I don't expect to have time to work on it for a bit. But it's ruminating in there, I promise.

I have a snippet, which is a first-- everything I've written so far I've hated upon rereading, so that's why I think I'm making progress. I've renamed everyone but kept the first names mostly, where I didn't swap genders. This is the opening of chapter 2, so we've already had Technology Backstory With Smart Wifey, and Action Sequence At Sea With Explosions, and now it's time for Character Backstories:

Someone shouted his name from down the street, and Tom laughed aloud, handed his datapad to the mildly alarmed merchant captain walking beside him, and turned, holding his arms out and bracing himself to receive the sudden arrival of thirteen stone or so of Yardley at full velocity. James always jumped and Tom always caught him, that was how it had worked since they were about thirteen, and he spun around to absorb some of the excess velocity and then kissed James soundly on the mouth before setting him down.  “Atkins, you fucker,” Yardley said. He’d knocked both their hats off. He was tan, straight off a run from around the Storms, and had been long-scheduled to meet them here. Constellation’s limping had slowed them down so much they were eight days overdue, so he’d likely been hanging around a while now. “I hear you have a good excuse for being late.” “I don’t know that it’s good,” Tom said, retrieving their hats and putting Yardley’s back on him. Then he realized it was the wrong hat, so he switched them. “But it couldn’t exactly have been avoided.”  James grabbed his face in both hands and kissed him again, and it could read as just friendly to a casual observer but Tom knew it was not, and smiled, curling his tongue wickedly but briefly behind James’s teeth before pulling back. James kept hold of his face and frowned. “You look like shit,” he said. “Thanks,” Tom said. “You look like you’ve been lying around Barka drinking and fu--” He rerouted the sentence, remembering they weren’t alone. “Making friends.” “Well,” James said modestly, preening, “naturally.”

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Quarantine

Summary: Eddie and Steve are stuck in quarantine together. They try to find ways to deal with it and to pass time.

A/N: I had so much fun writing this. I hope you enjoy it. It's kind of long.

After the destruction of Vecna, things did not get better so quickly in Hawkins. Yes, Eddie survived but only barely, and it was taking longer to clear him of all of the murder charges. The gates were closed, and Hawkins was slowly rebuilding. Meanwhile, he was stuck in quarantine with Steve Harrington, not that Eddie was complaining because as it turns out . . . King Steve had only been a facade. It had been a pleasure to get to know the real Steve. Eddie was finding the whole quarantine situation weird.

"Why don't they have us all quarantined in one place again?" Eddie asked from his spot on the couch.

"Well, they wanted us to be quarantined at the old Hawkins lab, but Hopper fought against that so we're in our houses," Steve explained. "How many times do you need to hear this?"

It's been so long that Eddie had been mostly healed of all of his bat bites. He was now upside down on the couch, watching the same commercial that had just come on. Eddie wanted to throw his shoe at the TV but he figured that would make him a terrible guest.

"I'm bored. . . let's sneak out," Eddie said.

"They're watching us, Eddie," Steve said with a sigh.

"We feel fine. I am feeling no side effects of the Upside Down coming into Hawkins. . . none whatsoever," Eddie said. "We're prisoners. . . their little puppets and I swear, they're going to come in the middle of the night to have their way with us. Well, at least I'll finally lose my virginity."

"Eddie!" Steve snapped.

"What's wrong?" Eddie asked. "Are you having Robin withdrawal? I think I might be having Dustin withdrawal. I miss that kid."

"Yeah, I think I know what you mean," Steve muttered.

Eddie rolled back into a normal position and jumped off the couch.

"Let's play hide and seek!" Eddie exclaimed. "Your house is big enough to hide anywhere."

"How old are you?" he asked.

"I don't know, cut me open and count the rings," Eddie said. "Tag you're it! Close your eyes and count to twenty!"

Steve sighed before closing his eyes. Fuck it, he was bored too. He counted to twenty and opened his eyes. Eddie was nowhere to be found. He stood up and took off his shoes before heading off to find Eddie. This was so stupid, Steve thought. He looked in the kitchen, but he wasn't there. Steve went in through the main room to look at the small room where the sliding glass doors that led out to the pool. He wasn't there either. Steve's father's study was on the other side of the small room, and he walked in to find Eddie, but he wasn't there either. He made his way upstairs when he got an idea.

"Oh, I can't find Eddie anywhere. I guess he really did decide to leave. I guess that means I can finally say what's on my mind," Steve grinned. "James Hetfield sucks!"

"You take that back, Steven James Harrington!" Eddie shrieked.

Steve chuckled. Of course, he was hiding in his room. Steve opened the door to his room and smiled at the sight of his closet door slightly open. He pulled the door opened and found Eddie hiding amongst his clothes.

"I got you!" Steve shrieked.

"Goddamnit! That was a trick, wasn't it?" Eddie pouted and Steve laughed. "Mean."

"Wait, how did you know my middle name?" Steve asked.

"I stole your wallet earlier and peaked at your license," Eddie said and Steve gave him a look. "What? I was bored."

"Alright, cover your eyes, asshole," Steve said. "You're it."

A few turns later and they found themselves on the floor of the guest room that Eddie's been sleeping in. They were bored again.

"Okay, how much time has passed now?" Eddie asked.

"I don't think we even made it to thirty minutes!" Steve exclaimed.

"Fuck!" Eddie exclaimed, rubbing his eyes. "Okay, do you have any ideas?"

"I have books, we could read," Steve shrugged.

"Wait, you have books? Why the fuck didn't you tell me? Have you been hoarding them like some sort of book dragon? Steven James, are you a book dragon?" Eddie asked.

"I would tell you if I were a book dragon," Steve replied.

"Would you though?" Eddie asked and stood up. "Lead me to the books, my liege."

Steve stood up and as he did so, Eddie jumped onto his back.

"Eddie!"

"Onward, noble steed!" Eddie said. "We must find this treasure before sundown!"

He wrapped his legs around Steve and squeezed Steve with his legs. The other man sighed before heading downstairs and towards the basement. It was small, comfortable, and a lot more friendly than the rest of Steve's house. Eddie could tell that this was where the kids hung out whenever they came over. He smiled in amusement when he saw that Steve had hung up their drawings. Eddie jumped off Steve's back and ran towards the bookshelf in the back.

"Yes! You have the Hobbit!" Eddie exclaimed. "Have you read the Hobbit?"

"No," Steve said.

"Oh, boy, you are in for it," Eddie asked, and he pushed him onto the couch. "Sit and watch as I bring it to life."

A couple of hours later, Steve and Eddie woke up from a deep sleep.

"When the hell did we fall asleep?" Eddie asked. "And why are we awake? Steve, how long has it been now?"

"I think it's still the same day," he said and Eddie screamed then he stopped.

"Wait, is it close to dinner time?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah."

"Let's go make dinner!" Eddie exclaimed.

An hour later, they were back in the living room, sprawled out and clutching their stomachs.

"How long has it been now?" Eddie asked. "Is it still the same day?"

"Yes," Steve said.

"Steve, make time go by faster," Eddie said. "I command it."

"Yeah, no," Steve said.

"There's nothing on TV," Eddie said with a sigh. "Steve, have you ever kissed a guy?"

"What? No!" Steve said.

"Have you ever thought about kissing a guy?" He asked.

"Have you ever thought about it?" Steve asked.

"A little. I have kissed a girl and I did like that. Recently, I've always wondered what it would be like to kiss a guy. How different is it?" Eddie said. "I mean, my sexuality is definitely wobbly right now."

"You want to kiss me?" Steve asked with wide eyes.

"You see any other guys around? You whipping off that sweater on the boat and whipping at me definitely sparked something in me, big boy, so yeah, I definitely want to kiss you," Eddie said.

"That did something for you, did it?" Steve said, standing up. "Whipping off my shirt and throwing it at you? Do you like it when my junk hits you in the face?"

"Fuck off," Eddie laughed.

Steve whipped off his shirt and threw it at him. He walked over to Eddie and straddled his lap, hovering just slightly.

"You like this?" Steve asked softly, and Eddie nodded. "Can I kiss you?"

Eddie nodded again. Steve pushed his hair back and cupped his face, brushing his thumb over Eddie's cheekbones. He leaned in, and Eddie met him halfway, closing the gap. A shot of excitement shot through Steve as he tasted Eddie's soft lips, shivered when Eddie's skin met his as he placed his hand on the small of Steve’s back. It shot through Steve and all the way down to his dick. Yeah, Steve definitely liked it. He liked the way Eddie kissed, curious and slowly at first, but then it grew more passionate. Eddie liked it, too. Another jolt shot through him as Eddie tugged him down onto his clothed, hard dick. Eddie broke the kiss, and his hand went to his belt buckle.

"You sparked the fire, Stevie," Eddie said, grinning wickedly. "I'm adding more fuel. May I?"

"Yeah. Yes!"

TWO DAYS LATER. . .

Eddie was lying naked in Steve's bed, watching Steve sleep beside him. Eddie grinned. Poor sweetheart was worn out, and Eddie did that. Eddie traced the moles on his back and leaned down to kiss them.

"Steeevvie," Eddie sang softly.

"Mm, what?" Steve asked.

"So grumpy when you first wake up," Eddie said. "Steve, I'm bored."

Steve groaned and flopped over onto his back.

"Was I not a good enough distraction for you?" Steve said.

Eddie laughed and straddled him.

"You're definitely the best distraction ever, but this house is driving me insane. I need to get out. We have done everything that there is to do in this house, including each other. We're definitely bisexual. We kissed and fucked in every room of this house," Eddie said.

"Not my parents' room," Steve said.

"Yeah, that room scares me. There's some bad juju in there," Eddie said and paused. "Stevie, I want to take you out."

Steve sat up, placing his hands on his hips.

"What are you saying exactly?" Steve asked.

"Well, I don't want to kill you, so I'm asking. . .Steve, do you want to be my boyfriend?" Eddie said.

"Yeah, baby, I want to be your boyfriend," Steve said and flipped him over onto his back.

An hour later, after another round of sex, Eddie was lying on his back and staring at the ceiling while Steve was slowly drifting back off to sleep.

"That's it," Eddie said, throwing off the blankets and slipping out of the bed.

"Where are you going?!" Steve asked.

"To talk to them," Eddie said, storming out of the room.

"Eddie!" Steve yelled, jumping out of the bed. "You're still naked! I thought we decided to that I was the only one allowed to see you like this. . .you know, as your boyfriend! Eddie!"

Eddie walked out of the house and stood on the porch steps. A car was parked out front with two suits sitting inside.

"Hey, assholes!" Eddie yelled.

"Jesus Christ, kid! Put on some clothes and go back inside!" The suit said.

"I shan't put on any clothing until you foul beasts have let us go!" Eddie declared.

"Get the hell back inside!" The suit yelled.

"Are you going to come over here and make me?" Eddie asked. "While you're at it, why don't you get on your knees and suck my - "

The door behind him opened, and Steve pulled him inside. He slammed the door and locked it.

"Are you crazy?" Steve asked.

"That's up for debate. Wayne has threatened to get me tested a couple of times," Eddie said.

"I can't believe I like you," Steve said, smiling.

"Yeah? Do you like it when i get a little crazy?" Eddie grinned as he pressed up against Steve and started kissing his neck. "What else do you like about me?"

"You're sweet and fun. I like the way you keep me on my toes, and you make me so happy that I could scream," Steve said and then said softly, "You make me happy."

"You make me happy too. Honestly, big boy, why the hell did you even bother putting these back on?" Eddie said and pulled down his boxers.

"Again, really? You know, we're out of condoms," Steve said.

"Seriously? Already?" Eddie asked.

"You used the rest of them to start a water balloon fight with the suits yesterday," Steve said. "One of them threatened to shoot you."

"He only said that because I filled one of them with milk," Eddie said.

"Oh my god!"

Steve wondered if it was just a coincidence or if Eddie really did have anything to do with it, but the very next day, they got the call that the quarantine was over. Eddie tried to celebrate with Steve, but they were interrupted by yet another phone call. It was Dustin and Robin. They were coming over. Eddie couldn't be mad. He missed both of them. Plus, it was really cute how excited Steve was at the prospect of seeing them. Eddie and Steve swarmed them when they walked through the door, hugging them tightly.

"So, how did you guys hold up in quarantine?" Dustin asked.

"Oh, we did very well," Eddie said and shared a look with Steve, giving him a nod.

"Robin, let's go to the bathroom and talk," Steve said.

"Okay, but why the bathroom?" She asked as she walked off with him. "Steve. . .why the bathroom? Steve? . . . Oh my God!"

"Really? You couldn't have waited until we got to the bathroom to figure it out?" Steve pouted. "I was doing a thing."

"OH MY GOD!" Robin exclaimed.

"Okay. Yes, get it out," Steve rolled his eyes.

"OH. MY. GOD!"

Dustin looked over Eddie's shoulder, frowning when he saw Robin hugging Steve tightly.

"What do you think they're talking about over there?" Dustin asked.

"Oh, he's probably telling Robin that I'm fucking him," Eddie said casually.

Dustin had the misfortune to be drinking something when Eddie said that. He choked and coughed, staring at Eddie with wide eyes.

"Are you serious?"

"Yep!"

"Oh my God! I thought that you two would become best friends when I planned this, but you two becoming more is better than I could have imagined," Dustin laughed.

"What?!" Eddie asked, staring him down.

"Okay, so, uh funny story, I faked the quarantine," Dustin said.

"You faked the quarantine?!" Eddie exclaimed. "How?! Why?"

"Well, after Vecna, you and Steve seemed to be distancing each other, so I really wanted you guys to hang out, so I faked the quarantine," Dustin laughed nervously. "Also, you've been cleared of all charges."

"What?! Okay. How did you manage to keep that from me?" Eddie asked.

"I told Hop and everyone that I would tell you, but then I didn't," Dustin said sheepishly.

"Did I just hear correctly?" Steve asked, coming up behind Eddie. "You faked the quarantine?"

Eddie grabbed the hat off his head and started to hit him with it. He grabbed him roughly, kissed the top of his head, and put his hat back.

"You're lucky that everything worked out, you meddling little shit," Eddie said.

"Wait, who were the suits?" Steve asked.

"Oh, yeah, I paid Murray and Dimitri with my compensation money," Dustin said. "Murray shaved his beard and wore a wig."

"Oh, my God!" Eddie said in realization. "I bombed a Russian with water filled condoms."

[missstratford]

Queen of my heart

A/n: this fic came to my head in the middle of the night lol. And I'm aware that i have a draco fic going on as well 😅😅but I'm unhinged so whatever. 🥲🥲. Also I'm gonna pretend the lil bitch Peter doesn't exists and my babies are away from toxic ppl. 😌😌

Summary: when James begins playing a game of dares with his friends, his task is to make someone fall for him. What happens when this person turns out to be you, who loathes his very existence. This time the line between game and love begin to blur.

Warnings: none, (but spicy times might be up in the next chaps😋)

Chapter 2

chapter 1:

Your quill scratched desperately against the parchment, filling it with the transfiguration essay due the next day. Your flow was interrupted by obnoxious laughter, for the tenth time. Gritting your teeth, your head snapped in the direction of noise. "They'll probably leave in a couple of minutes.” Andromeda's calm voice did little to settle you. " They've been at it for the last hour An, it's a library for Merlin's sake, how stupi-" Your ranting was cut short by another bout of raucous. That's it. You stood, chair creaking loudly as you did, earning looks from students around you. Before Andromeda could stop you, you strut around the shelves making your way to the gang of boys. Ah Griffyndors, you thought as you spotted the trio. "So Moony said -" You tapped the lad on his shoulders making them turn to you. "Yes?" This one wore glasses, looking confused at your presence. "Can i sit too?" You asked, a sarcastic smile playing on your lips. "What?” the black haired boy pushes his glasses up his nose, forehead scrunching in deeper confusion. " I mean you all seem to be having a lovely picnic so i thought I'd join." You explained, motioning to his two friends. "This is not a picnic. We are in the library. I thought slytherins were dumb but i never thought they were this dumb." His friend spoke. This one, you noticed, had longer hair and an unruly demeanor. Sirius Black, andromeda's relative, you quickly recognized. "Well now that we've established that we are indeed in a library, how about you loathsome pests act like it then?" Your smile dropped, lips thinning into a line. "I'm sorry wha-" Interrupting the boy with glasses you spoke, "Me along with 15 other students have been trying and failing to study thanks to your stupid laughing charade here. So you three better shut it before I call on Madam Pince Or better, I hex you myself." You ended menacingly. "Do you even know who we are?" The same boy from before said, coming to stand in front for you. It took your everything to not whip out your wand. "I honestly don't care even if you happened to be Merlin himself. So take my suggestion and leave." You clenched your jaw, swiftly turning back to your table. "Well she's terrible" She's a Slytherin!” "let's just leave please" You heard them whisper shout as you got back to your seat. "Did you kill them? Do i need to help you hide them?" Andromeda grinned as you picked up your quill. "I let them survive this time." You laughed.

Back in the gryffindor dorm, the marauders along with their friends sat in a circle. "Prongs turn on the damn lights mate" Sirius shouted, his arms going around remus trying to swat James' head. "Padfoot no-ouch- I'm creating the atmosphere mate, please just go with it" James rubbed his head. "Why are we even sitting like this?” Remus asked, eyeing the rest of the boys. "Well," Frank Longbottom smiled, rubbing his palms together, "we've decided to play a little game, just to spice up our fifth year." "My life is spiced up plenty already so, night lads." Sirius began standing up but was pulled down by Avery, "me, frank and adrian have already began playing and it's quite fun to be honest." "Can someone just explain what it is?” Remus interjected, to which Frank flourished a parchment filled with a list. " This is a list of dares which each one of us needs to complete in turns. Points get added to every name based on the success rate of the task. " Frank says, point at the corner of the parchment with names in columns. "And what's the prize? You know, for the one with the highest points in the end." James asks, looking intently at the list. "Generous compensation" Avery grins, "the winner gets to demand anything from the remaining boys for 3 months" He finishes. "How is that of any help?" Remus quizzes. "If you win, you could make sirius do your laundry for 3 months" Frank earns a hit from sirius. "Yeah or make avery do your homework" Adrian adds, laughing. "As much enticing as this sounds, count me out of it" Remus says, as he hears all of them groan in annoyance. "But we are in" James says eagerly as sirius nods. "Alright then boys, first up James." A sinister smile plays on avery's lips.

[shaynawrites23]

I feel like Sirius Black was classically taught how to dance. Could you do a HC based on the reader not being good at it so when somone asks her to the yule ball infant of her friends she said no then tells the marauders she can't dance so she won't be going.

I Don't Dance... Or Do I?

Sirius Black x reader

Word count: 877

A/N: i turned this into a fic instead bc i was feeling the format more than a HC, hope you don't mind! it also turned out longer than expected lol

You love and hate the Yule season.

Love, because all the most gorgeous ballgowns go on sale, the excitement is palpable in the air, and the school grounds always resemble a winter wonderland straight out of a fairytale.

Hate, because the big event is a ball, and you can't dance.

Well, strictly speaking, you can. You're not very good at it, though; you always end up at least two steps behind your partner even when you swear you did everything exactly as all the other girls did. It's a sight, watching you flounder on the dance floor attempting to catch up, and it's a sight you refuse to give Hogwarts the pleasure of.

So usually, you skip the ball.

Or sometimes, you sneak in for a few minutes, just long enough to soak up the atmosphere before you go back to ensuring nobody asks you to dance. Which they can't if you're far, far away from the dance floor. The harder part, honestly, is coming up with reasons not to go if someone asks you to the ball.

This year is no different. You manage to dodge the few invitations you receive; your potential dates suffer the case of disappointment that so often accompanies (gentle) rejection, but you know they'll get over it. And as the Yule Ball grows ever closer, you're beginning to believe you're in the clear for yet another year. Your secret is safe, just as you wanted it to be.

Until someone asks you in front of your friends.

The boy—you can't even remember his name, that's how little you've spoken to him—takes your answer as expected, and while you do feel a twinge of guilt for turning him down like that, your fear of humiliation is stronger.

"You're not going to the ball?" Is this the first time your friends realize you aren't going? See you turn down a date to the biggest event of the winter season? Judging from their reaction and the three pairs of incredulous eyes on you, it probably is.

"No," you huff, sitting back down on the floor of the common room, where you'd been sitting when what's-his-name approached you, and you lean your head against Sirius' thigh. Sirius, who only smiles and pets your head affectionately from where he's taking up half the couch.

When you don't offer any further clarification, the boys share a look, and you swear you can pinpoint the moment they decide they want to hear the reason.

"Well, why on earth not? You love Yule, and as Sirius here always says, you'd look beautiful in a gown." James skillfully dodges the pillow Sirius throws at his head. Sirius concludes James has had too much practice dodging bludgers during Quidditch.

"Would you believe me if I said I just don't feel like going?"

The reason feels weak already on your tongue, and you gather from their similarly raised eyebrows that the answer is no. Darn it.

"You don't have to go," Remus starts, "but if you don't, we'd like to know why so we know you aren't missing on the fun over a small thing we could have helped with."

Fun. The Yule Ball does sound like fun, a lovely night off among all the beautifully dressed students and faculty alike, enjoying the decorations and the music and the atmosphere...

"I can't dance," you groan into Sirius' thigh before you can help yourself. "I can't dance, and it's a ball, and I don't want to humiliate myself in the middle of the dance floor."

Because the fear of the embarrassment far outweighs your desire to take part in the festivities.

"Is that all?" You look up for just long enough to see Remus' surprised expression, mixed with something that looks half-smug, the way he does whenever he wins complicated debates. "See, I knew it'd be something solveable. Just have Sirius teach you. Then you'll know how to dance, and you can come to the ball."

"Sirius?"

"Despite what you might think, princess, I am qualified to teach ballroom dancing. Or to take you to the ball. Or both," the boy in question chimes in with a wink. The disbelief must still be plain on your face, because he adds, "All members of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black are formally trained in more styles of formal dancing than I want to count. You've heard tales of my mother, do you really think she'd be able to live with anything less?"

That is a good point. Sometimes, it's easy to forget Sirius' high-society upbringing. And honestly, what do you have to lose?

"You'd really teach me?"

"Would the condition of going to the ball as my date be pushing my luck too far?"

That one, you don't even have to think about. Who wouldn't want to go to the ball on Sirius Black's arm?

"No, Siri," you laugh, using your hand on his leg to help you sit up. "But you better teach me properly."

"Don't worry, princess," he chuckles. "You won't be disappointed."

That evening, when you receive your first dance lesson from Sirius Black, you can only conclude he isn't as good a teacher as he made himself out to be.

He's better.

[playingdxngerous]

fresh start

18+ minors dni

Warnings: cheating*, eventual smut, swearing, SLOW BURN, p in v, slight angst, arguing, Jake is very cocky, jealousy, pet names, oral f! and m! receiving, fingering f! receiving, masturbation, fluff at the end

Word Count: 4151

* I do not condone cheating, and I think it is an awful thing to experience or do to someone. Please do not cheat on people. This is just a fanfic :)

also i did not proof read absolutely any of this so if you see a mistake then ummm no you dont!

Your two month anniversary is today, or was today, in this case. Just when you thought things were getting better in your new relationship, it all started going downhill. Never in your life did you think you'd get broken up with on your anniversary. So much time wasted. It's for the stupidest reason too. Your (now ex) boyfriend James claimed over a phone call that he has been slowly losing feelings for a week or two and needs time away. Everyone knows what that means. There's another girl. Someone better, prettier.

"Fuck you!" You yell over the phone in your parked car. "You'll never be as happy as you were with me and you fucking know that, James. You know that." You hang up the phone before he can respond, tears streaming down your face. You look down at the outfit you had put on before driving over to his house. A red satin dress with lingerie underneath. You'd been planning the night out together for a few days now. He was going to take you to a movie, out to eat, and eventually back to his house before the two of you exchange gifts. he never even got to see you in your new dress. The asshole broke it off with you just before you reached his neighborhood.

You turn on music to distract yourself, yet nothing works. Guess I'll just get fucking blackout drunk tonight, you think to yourself. You quickly back out of the random parking lot you were settled in and speed to the nearest bar.

Pulling into a parking space you wipe off your tears and reapply mascara. You put on red lipstick and step out of the car, no cares for what happens to you tonight.

The bar is familiar, since this is where Jake used to take you. Jake. As if your day weren't bad enough, memories of your old relationship flutter through your head. Playing guitar, hooking up backstage, secret dinner dates where you both tried to avoid fans seeing you together. You were in love, more than you could ever be. More than you thought he would ever be. You were clearly wrong, as one day touring apparently "became too much" on him and was the reason for the breakup. About a month later the tour ended, and he found a new girl named Elena. This is when you decided to force yourself to move on and meet James. Your savior, you thought. He strongly resembled Jake. Maybe that's why you fell so hard for him too. Long hair, raspy voice, played guitar. Even his name is close to Jake's. A complete carbon copy of him. Enough with the exes, you think as you open the door to the bar with a deep breath. Tonight you can forget both of them even existed.

You walk to the barista and order a drink, asking for anything strong. She's middle aged, tattoos lining her arms and neck. She has that rare beauty to her, the beauty you'd find with a trashy addict husband. The beauty you'd find riding a motorcycle late at night. She brings you a surprise drink, winking at you before saying this will definitely get you some guys on your finger tonight. Little does she know that you secretly wish you never met any guy in your life anymore. You down the drink in one sip, the taste burning your throat. Just as you begin to ask for another shot of something, a spine-chilling voice interrupts you.

"Hey pretty lady," Jake Kiszka directs to the barista. "I'd like whatever this girl just got," he says pointing his thumb to you.

"Just one? Don't want to offer her one?" She smiles at you.

"No thank you." You quickly respond to her. "I should probably get going."

"I've got a date over here somewhere; I can't be buying random girls drinks. Don't know where the hell mine is though." Jake says. "Don't know if I give a shit either..." He mumbles under his breath.

"Be respectful for once you prick." You say directly to him, not expecting it to actually come out of your mouth.

"Oh yeah?" He downs the shot with no face. "What will you do about it? Start making out with someone who looks just like me? I've seen him before y'know. You could've gone for someone slightly different than me. Guess you were just so crazy for me you couldn't stand a simple break while I was on tour." He shrugs his shoulders. Anger rises in your stomach as he lies straight to your face. The worst part is that he's not even drunk. You've seen him tipsy, and you know for a fact he is complete sober right now. These are sober words hitting you directly in the heart. Being broken up with was enough, but this just makes it way worse. It takes everything in you to not punch his cheek and leave a mark for his precious little Elena to kiss.

"Go back to your fucking girlfriend." You grunt through your teeth. Your hands unclench to reveal little marks from your red painted fingernails. "And it wasn't a break. Don't ever say that again. You broke up with me to fuck her a month later. You lost feelings, not me. I would've stayed. I did stay. I stayed until your player ass found her. I hope she's happy with you."

"She is." He says and walks away into the crowd. You see Elena grab him around the neck with a confused face. He shakes his head and smiles, leaning in for a kiss. He widens his eyes as they practically make out, staring right at you.

"You wanna dance?" A random guy grabs your hand and scoots up to you. You turn to Jake, who is still intently staring. However, his face now portrays anger and jealousy rather than pettiness.

"Sure, why not?" You smile widely and wink in Jake's direction. A song you've never heard plays out of the large speakers spread across the room and you struggle to stay up to tempo with your new date. You wait impatiently for the song to end, excusing yourself when it finally does.

You walk around aimlessly, trying to find the bathroom. As you take a turn down a hallway to find it, Jake is leaned against the wall as if he were waiting for you.

"Can you leave me alone for five minutes and just let me breathe?" You almost yell.

"I don't think James would like to know you're out here drunk and dancing with random men. Dressed like a slut and all."

"I don't care what he thinks anymore."

"Oh, so I should text him on Instagram and tell him?"

"I don't think Elena would like you sneaking off to talk to your ex by the bathroom either." You say, putting extra emphasis on her name.

"I'm sure she's doing the same. The bitch just let some dude buy her a drink. I wouldn't be surprised if she's already in his car by now. Wouldn't be the first time. I haven't even seen her since you saw me kiss her."

"And you don't care at all?" You ask, genuinely confused. If James ever did that to you would lose your mind.

"You think I care about her? She's with me for the sex. I'm a fucking rockstar, what do you expect. You really think I love her like I did you?"

"Jake why would you bring that up?" You say almost sadly.

"You never answered my question so why should I answer yours." He claims.

"Okay fine, what was the stupid question."

"Does your copy and paste boyfriend not give a shit that you're out here with other men?" His eyebrows raise.

"He broke up with me."

"What?"

"He fucking broke up with me! Is that what you so desperately want to hear?"

"Why did he- Why would he..." He trails off in confusion.

"Why don't you ask yourself that Jake. Seems like you two have something in common." Tears start to pool in your eyes, so you turn your heel to start walking away. Jake's warm hand grabs your hip, pulling you in to a hug. You can't help but stay there for a second. Thankfully, reality begins to kick back in and you push him away.

"Go find Elena. Take her home. Give her a fucking night to enjoy because God knows I won't enjoy the rest of tonight. Give her everything you ever wanted to give me, everything you did give me. Give her your love. And don't ever hug me again unless you mean it. I'm tired of people holding me in and breaking my goddamn heart." You utter.

"Am I not making it oblivious enough?" He laughs.

"Jake what are you on about now?"

"I don't want her sweetheart." He moves closer to you, making you tilt your head to now keep eye contact. Your heart sinks at the pet name.

"You don't mean it." You whisper.

"Do I need to prove it to you that I mean it?" He smirks.

"I'm not going to let you cheat on her." You croak. He turns you around to face the crowded room behind you, his hands resting gently on your hips once more. You scan the room and immediately find Elena on the lap of some guy at the bar, kissing him harder than she was with Jake moments ago.

"Oh my god Jake I'm so sorry she's doing that to you." You feel genuinely bad for him, as you know it must be hard to witness that.

"Like I said darling, not the first time. So, are we going to get going or what?" Your head and heart pull to opposite sides of your answer. As much as you want to say no, it's so hard to decline an offer like this. You and James' relationship is already in shred, and you've almost completely forgotten about it because of Jake. It's so easy to just say 'yes'...

"Jake we can't. It's not right." You finally respond. Slight regret fills your head.

"What about it isn't right? Neither of us are in a loving relationship at the moment. Mine is falling apart hour by hour and you don't even have one at all. I think you're just scared you'll enjoy it too much. You miss me too badly. You miss the way I feel in your pretty pussy. The way I taste. The sounds of our moans together." His voice gets quieter as his sentences go on, stepping closer and closer until your chests are touching.

"Fuck me, Jake." You whisper.

"Is that a yes? You know I won't ever force you." He pulls away a little, making the wind blow cold between you.

You scoot back to him and grabs his neck. "Yes Jake. I want you so badly." He smiles and kisses you slowly. The shape of his lips brings back memories of your relationship. The same lips you'd kiss for hours at a time, so often. He must sense it too, as each second he kisses hungrier and faster. The capricious night runs through your thoughts. How over an hour ago you were crying on the phone with James, and now you are making out with your ex as his girlfriend finds someone else to toy with right behind you, no care in the world.

He slides his tongue against your bottom lip, starving to taste you. The sweetness of his spit mixes with yours and you try to forget that Elena had just tasted the same thing recently. He seems to notice your overthinking tendencies and pushes you against the nearest wall, placing his thigh between your legs to distract you.

"We're in public," you laugh as you pull away from his swollen lips.

"Let's go then," he smirks. He walks quickly through the crowd, flipping off Elena as he walks past her. You grab hold his hand and smile, staring straight at her as she goes back into her kissing session. You make it outside, the chilly air giving you goosebumps. Jake gives opens the door for you, giving you a blue jean jacket from his backseat. You put it on, his scent overwhelming you.

"And you're absolutely sure you-" He begins before you interrupt him with a short peck on the lips.

"Yes Jake." He nods and puts the car in reverse, grabbing your thigh once you make it on the main road.

"My house?" He asks. You nod, not wanting to go into your room and allow him to see the hanging polaroids and framed picture of you and James. He squeezes your thigh in response. The drive ends shortly, and you notice that his hand is way further up than it started.

He gets out of the car and opens the door, guiding you through the familiar house to his bed. You sit on the edge and he leans down in front of you, taking off your red heels.

"Oh what a gentleman," you tease as you crawl back against the headboard, letting him hold himself up on top of you.

"Mhm," he moans, leaning in for a desperate kiss. "I've missed your lips," he says while pulling away. Your heart sinks at his claim, yet you know it's way too soon into your breakup to catch feelings for your ex once more. Guilt takes over you. Two months isn't that long, right?

"Why Jake? You've had Elena for a while now. Why do you miss me?" You ask.

"I don't know how I can make it clearer that I never liked her like I did you. You were and still are so special to me." The sentence drops your heart even more, your butterflies almost making you nauseous. "You probably don't feel the same though, and I guess I understand why." The thought rings in your mind. Did you ever love James more than Jake? James was easier to be around, as he was always less busy. He didn't have such high expectations on him. Maybe that's why you loved him so much. He was the part of Jake you wanted to be around. He didn't have a huge job where he was never home. He wasn't touring the country. He was actually able to show you affection. And the biggest part, he looked very similar to Jake...

"You don't know that," you finally manage to speak.

"You liked me more than James? After what I did?

"Jake...: You whisper, grabbing his arms. "I was absolutely in love with you. We were together for so long. It's difficult to compare that to a two month relationship." Jake smiles in pride and kisses you passionately. His tongue glides across yours, making you forget the whole conversation about James. Tonight was a night to forget about him, and that's what you're going to do. "Make me forget about him," you say out loud without even realizing. His eyes spark, starstruck by your request.

"I'll do anything you want sweetheart." He smirks, covering it by biting his lip. Your face gets hot by the minute as he reaches his hand up and cups your tit. While squeezing, he begins to suck on your neck. A red spot remains as he moves away, which shows that you are his for the night. Remnants of him will stay on your body, giving proof of the sins. You don't care though, in fact, you hope James sees somehow. You want him to know how you feel. You want him to know that you chose Jake over him. Not in a way to make him jealous, but to show him what he missed out on. To show him what he will never have again.

"You're so sexy in this dress," he rasps. Your mind flips to the lingerie you have on under it, originally intended for someone else.

"It would be better if you took it off, in my opinion," you tease.

"Oh yeah?" He raises his eyebrows, slowly pulling on the shoulder straps. "Do you really deserve that special treatment, princess? I shouldn't make you strip it off in front of me?"

"Jake please," you whimper. Tonight will be a long night.

"Use your words," he lifts up your chin with his index finger, looking you in the eyes.

"Fuck me," you moan. He slides the straps down further, and you help him slide the dress down your legs. A pink matching set lines your body, making him noticeably hard through his jeans.

"Dressed up for your little boyfriend huh? Too bad he's missing out on this." He slides his fingers across your clit, the fabric of the lace covering it. "So wet and desperate for me. I hope he's so jealous right now." One more word from Jake and you feel as if your heart might stop. "I need you so bad baby please," you squeeze your legs together in order to relieve some tension. He notices and pushes them apart immediately. "Please Jake."

"I think I'd rather listen to you beg for me all night." He kisses your stomach, trailing down to the top of your panties, gently pulling on them with his teeth. He looks you in the eyes and stops midway. Running his hands up your body, he unclasps your bra. You become tired of waiting and start to rub circles through your panties. He grabs your hand and puts it behind your back, clicking his tongue disapprovingly.

"Be patient, love." He centers his attention back to where he was initially, pulling down the lace bottoms fully. All of a sudden, he glides his tongue flatly across your slit. Electricity shoots through your body. He is doing this simply for you to feel pleasure, not him. You forgot how good this felt, as James only ever cared about if he was going to finish or not.

"Feels so good," you mumble.

"We just started baby," he smirks as he moves his head back. His tongue gains speed with every flick. He sucks on your clit, moans forcing their way out of you at the touch. You grab his brunette locks and watch as he devours your cunt. A quiet moan vibrates off his tongue as you pull his hair.

"I'm so close," you practically yell. He brings his fingers up to his mouth, sliding one into you to get you used to it. He sadly moves his head away and raises up to kiss you as he fucks you with his finger. He slides one more in shortly. "Fuck baby go faster I'm so close." He menacingly slows down and bites your lip as he ends the current kiss. He positions his tongue back over your clit and continues to push his fingers into you, curling at just the right spot.

"Jake!" You shout his name like a prayer as you release your orgasm onto his fingers.

"You did so good princess," he cups your jaw with his hand.

"My turn," you say as you attempt to catch your breath.

"What?"

"Lay down." To your surprise he turns over and actually lays on his back. He used to hate letting you be in control. "Going to fuck you better than that bitch Elena ever did."

"Won't be hard to beat," he laughs. He unzips his jeans and pulls them off, throwing them on the floor nearby. You help him pull his shirt off and run your hands down his chest to take in the moment. You've really missed this, no matter what your mind tries to convince you. You take his dick in your mouth, letting your hands cover the rest of his length. You start to pump with your mouth and get faster as he whimpers underneath you.

"Condom?" You ask. He reaches into his nightstand and rips one open with his teeth. You help him slide it on, then crawl up to straddle his waist. With his help you begin to ride him, butterflies filling your stomach. Whimpers escape from his lips. He grabs your waist with one hand to guide your hips back and forth as you bounce, his other hand squeezing your boob. Another orgasm rises in you.

"I'm going to cum baby keep going," he reassures you as you start to slow down. Tired from all the movement, you pull off and take the condom off, sucking his dick once more. You rub your clit, his face alone almost sending you over the edge. "Fuck," he sighs as he releases into your mouth, watching you swallow him. He looks down and sees you touching yourself. "Desperate for another?" Your face gets hot at his observation.

"What if I am?" You tease. He flips you on you back and immediately starts to fuck you with his fingers. You're taken by surprise, but you love it more than anything. He curls as he slowly pumps them at just the right place and speed.

"C'mon baby finish for me." His words unravel the knot in your stomach, causing you to cum on him once more. "Good girl," he mutters before sucking you off his fingers. He kisses you longingly, then makes a trail of pecks to your neck. "Next time you think of that asshole ex of yours, I want you to remember what that kiss tasted like. What we taste like."

"I'm all yours now Jake."

"I know you are," he replies while walking to his drawer. He pulls out a pair of plaid pajama pants and an old band t-shirt, putting them on in front of you. "Are you staying the night?" The question rings in your head. Why is he asking you? Why do you want to stay the night with your ex? Why did you do any of this?

"If you don't mind," you respond before thinking. He reaches in and grabs you similar clothes to his.

"Of course not. Do you want anything? Water or snacks?"

"Just you," you grin. He turns the light off and climbs into the bed with you once you have put the clothes on. His body lies inches from you, not daring to touch you or else feelings might form again. Uncertainty of your own feelings stream throughout your thoughts. "Jake?"

"Yeah?" He turns over to face you, moonlight barely shimmering down on him from a window.

"Are you going to go back to Elena and act like this never happened?"

"After seeing you so vulnerable tonight I don't think I could ever look into her eyes again. I really missed you." He places his hand on your cheek. His thumb unconsciously moves back and forth.

"Does this make me a bad person?" You ask silently.

"Why would you be a bad person?"

"James," you say shortly.

"He clearly deserves this. I don't to assume anything or hurt you, but he's probably out fucking some girl right now. I don't see why he ever would, you're the best girlfriend anyone could ask for." He speaks from experience.

"It's not just that though."

"What is it then?" He furrows his eyebrows.

"I'm catching feelings for you again. They never completely left to begin with. When we broke up, I found James, yet his only job was the replace the hole you left in me. I wanted you. In the back of my head, I have for the whole two months leading up to today. I never got over you, I never will. I understand if you don't feel the same way, I just needed to tell you sooner rather than later. That being if we ever even talk again after tonight."

"I feel the same way love." The name makes your heart pump faster.

"What does this mean for us?" You worriedly ask.

"I think it means we need to take things slow if we ever want to go back. You just need-" He says before you interrupt.

"So you do want to go back?"

"Is that bad?" He questions

"I want to as well, so I guess it's okay." You smile.

"We can have a fresh start if we just pace it right. Rushing into a relationship the same day you got broken up with probably isn't a good idea. Tomorrow I will make breakfast and let you sleep in. We can act however you want, no label."

"That sounds perfect," you yawn.

"Good," he smiles. You lean and kiss him on the cheek. He pulls you closer, yet leave a gap in between you just in case. You scoot in, wishing to be as close as possible. He hugs you and runs his hands up and down your back. You slide a hand up his shirt, craving his warmth in such a cold room. Eyelids getting heavy, you close your eyes and dream about a fresh start with Jake Kiszka.

[thenightling]

Interview with The vampire season 2, episode 3 review

What's maddening about this episode is how much they get right while also sprinkling in such a mess. Again we are reminded that someone wants to buy this triptych art piece that Louis didn't even know that they were selling and this mysterious buyer is using a middle man. I'm calling it now, the buyer is probably Marius. And now The Talamasca has finally made its appearance. I'm actually amused that the showrunner calls them the supernatural Men in Black because that's how I used to describe them as a teenager and I felt my description was woefully inaccurate but I'm amused by the concept, even though that seems to be what Winston is doing with The Ghostbusters in the current film franchise and I think they might be doing it better. Did you catch the Talamasca agent's name? Raglan James AKA The Body Thief who wants to run off inside Lestat's powerful, immortal body. The flashback of Armand meeting Lestat is maddening. I get that it's from Armand's point of view and he's very bias against Lestat but Some of it is so painfully out of character for those of us that love Lestat. For example, it was Nicolas who came up with the Theatre of The Vampires out of the theatre that he and Lestat worked at when they were mortal. Lestat would have thought it was vulgar, he wouldn't have come up with it. And why would Lestat seduce Armand to learn how to read minds and use telepathy? These things came innately to Lestat in the books. It was Armand who tried to seduce Lestat and at one point tried to blood r8pe Lestat and Lestat beat the crap out of him for it. I also noticed this episode had the weird addition of vampires with seasonal allergies. Why? Vampires are supposed to be immune to things like that. And vampires with moles all over their groin. Again... why? Whatever happened to Anne Rice's vampires having perfect skin? Why add these weird details? Armand conjuring fire in his hand like a video game sorcerer was just plain cheesy. The "Fire gift" (pyrokinesis) worked more like Stephen King's Firestarter, not Harry Dresden on a bad day. Also this was an odd thing to do with Armand, that he was ready to execute Louis. Armand never had any intention of killing Louis in the book and the main reason he wanted Claudia dead was to have Louis's heart to himself, what she did to Lestat was just a convenient excuse. Also does anyone else notice a weird theme of ableism this season? Last episode it was "How can he hunt if he can't see?" so a vampire's head was bashed in. Now a rule about not to make a child into a vampire has "Don't make someone a vampire if they're crippled." Why the Hell not? Most physical disabilities are corrected with vampirism in Anne Rice's novels and if they aren't the vampire has heightened senses to compensate. This strange ableism is an odd, recurring theme, almost as annoying as the excessive and unnecessary smoking. Another odd detail, with the theatre of the vampires, why does the human victims dragged out on stage all say the same "Line" without deviation? It's not an act so why do they all say the same exact thing? Wouldn't there be variety like "Help! This theatre is actually a cult!" or "This is not an act! These people are cannibals!" or "These are REAL vampires!" or "Where the f--k am I?" This is surprisingly unrealistic and draws me out of the story that each victim says the same thing when they stumble out on stage. Finally, it's becoming more and more obvious that the first season was supposed to tell all of Interview with the Vampire and they decided to stretch it out because now it's waring thin. You can FEEL the padding now, it might as well be a CW show.

[raspberrilady]

White Roses || William James Moriarty x Reader

a/n: Finally, here, a fic written with my friend as my hypewoman on this William piece, and me being a cheerleader on her Scaramouche fic. Ask her kindly and maaaybe she will translate a thing.

Word count: around 16,000 words divided into a prologue, 9 chapters and an epilogue. You might consider reading it on AO3

Treat this piece as an embodiment of my brianriot that was a sole thought of wanting to see a William with a soft, kind and a bit naïve lady. She will have her character development throughout the story, though. I just wanted some longer angst-fluff fic and it’s a bit dumb and silly and not that majestically written.

Warnings: Female reader, mentions of Christianity, too many scenes involving tea, not that good word choices. Translation isn’t my thing. Angst, fluff and suggestive fic.

Mary Hale isn't sure if she wants to wake her roommate up.

In her eyes, you look terrible and won't be able to get yourself presentable in the next ten minutes, when the next lesson will start. Your hair is tangled, your sleeping face bears a strange expression, and the bags under your eyes are dark. A book with an emerald cover loosely clasped in your hands betrays what [Name] [Surname] was doing all night.

For that, you blame all writers whose passionate, engaging novels keep you awake at abnormal hours. Late nights are the only quiet time in the dormitory. It's soundless enough to keep you focused and dark enough to finely hide dark blushes on your face in case your roommate woke up. She would still scold you for using the lamp, and the mood would be ruined, so you always keep the light low.

Mary Hale rolls her eyes and decides to leave you be. Either way, she doesn't know you well enough to care that much, even if you've shared a room for half a year. She spends her time perfecting her art of flirting outside the dormitory, and you... Well, she guesses you read a lot and don't mind showing up to class unprepared.

She couldn't be so careless in her appearance as you as she doesn't plan to waste her time on books much longer. She will find a wealthy lover and never lift a finger again to work, let herself sink in tons of compliments and be adored by the man of her life. That is her dream, which she devotes herself to.

She leaves the room almost without slamming the door.

Mary has no intention of being late for class. Math isn't that much important as the young professor who is an exceptional candidate for her lover. The thought of a forbidden, somewhat indecent relationship curves the corners of her mouth into a mirthful grin.

Huh. And she is surprised that this kind of thing is preventing you from sleeping, even if only on paper.

Chapter I

You are late.

William James Moriarty notes the attendance with a quick glance as he enters the room. Several seats remain empty: you and another student, who always sits in the first row—August Hearst—are missing. He also notices two unfamiliar ladies, unenrolled students who showed a sudden interest in trigonometry after seeing William. Amazing.

He puts on a gentle professor's smile, closing the door behind him and its hinges click quietly.

„Good morning. I welcome you all to the next class,” he says, standing in the middle of the room. Everyone raises and responds to his greeting. “Before we move on to the next subject, please take a look at your exams and my commentary on them. If you have any inquiries, don't hesitate to ask me. Unfortunately, two people did not pass and-”

The door creaks loudly, although you've been careful when opening it. You slip into the room and with a hasty “I'm sorry...” take your seat.

“...And that is why they will have to attend supplementary classes to catch up. This test was difficult, but I assure each of you that the knowledge you’ll gain after it will be useful in the future.”

He takes the corrected exams. His shoes clatter against a wooden floor as he hands in the exams one by one, congratulating successful students and giving knowing looks to those that don’t have math as their forte.

“Miss [Name],” his soothing tone doesn't sound threatening, yet the shiver runs down your spine. He places a test in front of you, and you notice how your calculations on the first page are almost completely crossed out. “I am inclined to suspect that the day you wrote your test was not your finest moment. Most of the data had already been misspelt in the first lines. Could it be that something was distracting you?”

You look at him with surprise and shake your head vigorously. Professor Moriarty most likely knows that he is (not only) your biggest distraction, especially since in (not only) your eyes he is perfect. Pulled straight out of a novella. Romantic one, probably. You could point which book.

Not that you are absurdly bad at all these calculations and logical thinking. But one could mess this badly only if there was something else involved, like immunity to handsome men.

And yet he plays ignorant and thus makes you even more nervous.

It isn't easy to look for an excuse. After all, you can't really say 'Hiring a handsome, young teacher as a maths was a fatal mistake by the university' or something along these lines.

“I've been having trouble sleeping lately...” Your confession is half-hearted, as you stare stubbornly at the test result which almost makes you tear up.

“Oh? Well, I can't argue that a good novel might keep one awake better than a math book,” he says with a benevolence that makes you even more embarrassed, and you blush. “Perhaps a tea of St John's wort or chamomile will be able to help you.”

You gently turn toward him and nod shyly. He smiles and ends up handing out tests. Then, he goes back to the blackboard and writes down the few formulas that caused the most problems.

Seeing how trivial your mistakes were, you start to question why you are here. Well, you somehow like the classes and your parents wanted you to take up a chance and study. And, of course, William teaches here, but it must've math, that you can't understand at all.

You sigh. How unromantic.

***

For the rest of the lecture, you've been sitting quietly, jotting down the most crucial things. Or you've tried to, as your notes started to fill up with mindless scribbles next to some formulas. You are relieved to get up from your seat when the class’s time is up.

You move towards the door along with the other classmates when you hear your name called.

“Miss [Surname]!” You don't need to turn around to realize that the voice belongs to Professor William. Even that bad mark on your exam didn't make you resent him out of spite, you notice with another beat of your heart as you approach him.

“Yes...?”

“I would like to remind you once more about the supplementary classes,” he says calmly, observing your reaction. He could point to the anxiety in your slightly widened eyes and a stab of frustration in the way your lips twitched slightly. William smiled and was mindful that it is time to change the topic. “Apropos, Miss [Surname], I have heard that the second volume of the 'Taste of Enchantment' has appeared in our library.”

Now William watches as a surprise takes over your body as the bashful redness start to spread on your face, he considers this state better than your silent puffing and pouting.

…

How does he know about this book?

'Taste of Enchantment' is an average romance with an awkward title. The protagonist is a dull lady, but not in a way you could describe yourself, as she was too perfect. You would drop the book by the first three chapters if not for the main character’s significant other, who, as you’ve decided, quite resembles William.

“How did you know I read the first volume?” You ask with an uncertain, polite smile.

William hums lightly. “I happen to be very interested in the literature my students read. I noticed you recently with the book, so I decided to try it myself.”

...That is mortifying. You know so many books and your lecturer had to caught you reading this mediocre crap. The ending of the first volume may have been quite good, you admit it yourself, but overall it was...

…Yeah, mediocre crap is an adequate way to describe it.

“If I had known, I would have had in hand a more interesting novel than this one...,” you chuckle to shake off the awkward feeling and lower your gaze on your watch. There is still some time to eat breakfast. You did a slight curtsey. “Excuse me, professor, but I will be going now. Thank you for your time.”

“Of course, miss [Surname]. I hope to see you in the supplementary classes,” you nod, already resigned to your fate, and he smiles as you take your leave. It sweetens the fact you will have even more limited free time.

If he had stopped you, he would see a scarlet blush covering your cheeks before you got out of the room. Your throat is dry, and any further words would have died on your tongue.

Almost with relief, you leave William's classroom.

'Taste of Enchantment'...

The blush again douses your face, and you close your eyes while rebuking yourself quietly. You couldn’t believe that a crappy romance book that would rather suit a somewhat-read teenager would make your heart beat fast and not because of the frustrating plot.

And you wanted to be a model student, [Name]?

Chapter II

Never before in your life have you been so nervous yet excited for a lesson to start.

Even though you are theoretically here as punishment for not studying enough math or just not being talented enough to master it effortlessly, it is hard to get the nervous smile off your face. You try to not let your fluster show, tightening your fingers on the covers of your books.

With your free hand, you reach for a door.

The class is almost empty and the sight of it reminds you of a lively marked suddenly going vacant. It’s unusual and leaves a nostalgic feeling behind.

“Welcome back, Miss [Name],” William's velvety voice greets you as soon as you walk through the door, and the world around seemed to dim in his presence. “I'm glad you found time for me.”

“O... of course,” you reply hazily, sitting down by the desk that is closer to the blackboard than your usual seat. You don’t want to look impolite, would you take a sit that far away, when there are only two people in the class...

...Or rather, there should have been two people, because the second student—another failure in terms of math—hasn't arrived yet.

“Ah,” William notices your unspoken question. “You are currently the first one to arrive. The most punctual. I'll admit I have no idea whether Mr Hearst will join us. There are three minutes left before the scheduled time... But,” the smile he gives you is charming enough, you can't focus on his words, “we will somehow manage together either way, won't we, Miss [Name]?”

You smile shyly, only nodding in response. You don't like how you can't do anything about your slightly flushed cheeks. Math, math, math. You came here to learn math. Not for your handsome teacher.

You can't let yourself romanticize the situation and face the cruel reality you’re failing your classes.

You spread your books out on the desk. Once you're holding a pen in your hand, William sighs softly and begins explaining everything about trigonometry from scratch. He asks you questions, and you can feel the attention on you, which you both don't want and... somehow, makes you happy.

You solve a few tasks under his watchful eye and encouraging smile. They are easier than what was on the test, but Williams tries to convince you that the solutions are to be crafted with the same scheme.

You are absorbed with the paper in front of you, occasionally biting your lip.

While you’re absorbed with the paper in front of you, William observes watchfully the changes in your expression: from a bit of confusion to concentration and then a smile of satisfaction and surprise as you write down the answer. He approaches you and leans over to take a look at what you have written.

Your tense by the light feeling of his warm breath. He’s so close. You can discern the light smell of roses. Is this cologne?

If anyone else were in his shoes, you would be terrified by this proximity. Now, somehow, you aren't.

“Mhm, both first exercises are correct, but in the third, you have used the wrong formula.” He hums right next to your ear. His voice is quiet, almost coming out as a whisper.

You press your lips together in a narrow line as your cheeks become even redder. You mutter something under your breath, correcting the data. You don't dare to look at him, because your heart’s beat fastened and you don’t want it to jump out of your chest or stop.

…How delightful.

“Professor Moriarty...?” You whisper, drawing his attention back to you from his wandering thoughts.

“Forgive me Miss [Na-]” SHHHHHHHHHHH!! His apology is interrupted by the creak of the door opening. William straightens up and turns around. At the threshold stand two—...two?—late students; Mary, your roommate, and a boy whose locks of chestnut-coloured hair you've been seeing in class around five rows in front of you.

“I'm sorry for being late!” Mary Hale giggles cutely through her apology. She notices William and she smiles charmingly in his direction. She hadn't been invited to extra classes—but who would have a good reason to deny an eager student extra maths lessons?

Still, even as your beloved professor gracefully moves away from your desk, you can smell his cologne. You shift your gaze to the newcomers, distracting yourself from the scent of roses.

Mary greets the professor who answers her with the same courtesy. The man who you barely knew from the classes, hesitantly takes a seat next to you, bowing his head slightly in silent “good morning”.

You smile timidly in return.

“Of course, professor!” The melodic voice of Mary steals your attention once again. You glance again at the... pair that looks very good on each other sides. It pains you how the golden locks of Mary's hair give her a princess look, that matches William's gentlemanly appearance.

…Hm. They look like the main couple from the “Taste of Enchantment”, and you can't help but pout with dissatisfaction.

...Well, either way, William seems to like you a bit more than her! Probably. You guess. You hoped so. Maybe you are seeing whatever you want to see, and want to cheer yourself up, but... You don't know what you would do if you stopped using your imagination.

The warmth on your previously red cheeks suddenly seems to prickle, just as ice dabbed on your skin.

Mary is more... more than you. You can't put your finger on the source of her charm, but you suspect that her big blue eyes, almond-shaped face and feminine curves have something to do with it. Her voice is always layered with honey, and even sweeter words can turn any man into her lover. Hm... Well, maybe you can tell why was she popular, but that doesn't make you any happier.

How can William not resist this charm? His aura that spellbinds people is as strong as hers, and the effects are well-known throughout the academy.

…

You don’t notice the glaze of tears that forms over your eyes before a gentle nudge snaps you out of your reverie.

Someone's hand is extended discreetly towards you with a flower-embroidered handkerchief between their fingers. The consoling gaze of your desk companion is the only thing that stops you from bursting into tears. You really can't understand how can you be so oversensitive about the scenario going over in your head.

“Everything will be alright,” you hear the warm voice of a stranger. “...The very fact that you are still trying to understand math, means that you are a very strong woman.”

You take the handkerchief and wipe away the traces of traces. “...Thank you.” With a gesture, your companion signals you can keep the piece of this beautiful material to yourself. You nod your head in another thank you. “We're both strong, even if our grades say otherwise.”

He laughs heartily. “And that is very good thinking, dear lady!”

“Miss [Name], Mr Hearst,” the two of you look at your professor who must have finished talking with Mary. At William's heavy gaze, Mr Hearst moves away to give a decent distance between you. “Let me start the class properly, please. I will write out some formulas and instructions on the board for you. Try to solve them and bring me your calculations tomorrow. And now, going to the further topic...”

You can feel your eyes on yourself more often than normally. You catch William's gaze lingering on you. Your heart is beating loudly, but not in a joyful rhythm. It was something between a melody of uncertainty and melancholy, that doesn't allow you to raise your gaze. No, you can't do that without hope that helped you today to get up at an absurdly early hour... Absurdly early hour for you, 8 am.

…

You are aware of your jealousy. Comparing William and Mary to the characters from your new favourite book completely ruined your mood, but it was only your fault. You should stop overthinking and get a grip.

You finish the lesson by noting down the formulas. It is hard to do it correctly, because you've been avoiding looking at William, and the fact that he is constantly standing next to the blackboard doesn't help. 

The chime of a bell at the end of class sounds angelic.

You cram all your belongings—two books, a fountain pen and a notebook with some pages unintentionally crumpled—into your bag and hurry to the exit. You arrive at the door frame so quickly, that Mary and Mr Hearst have only raised from their seats, and you even have the nerve to pretend that you don't hear your name called. 

You open the door and, although no one can say that you are running, your every step is an escape from a certain professor and his classroom. You should keep your joy in books and distancing yourself from Mr Moriarty is the first step to achieving that.

…

Your room. Only now, as you're sitting down on your bed, you begin to analyse your behaviour. You can feel your heart pounding hard, and not just because of your “run”.

Your eyes tear up over again at the memory of your last lecture, and you sink back onto your pillows.

“It's so foolish,” you think. You can't understand why the sight of Mary standing next to William had put you so off balance. Was it because of your naive enchantment? Or was it simply your imagination putting the two of them in the place of characters from a popular novella?

You’re being unfair to Mary right now. The guilt will eat you fully if you ever begin to be rude to her just because of your unfulfilled fantasy. You groan, burying your face in a cushion. 

Just as you were about to buy the new volume of “Taste of Enchantment” not so long ago, all you want now is to burn every copy of the book that makes you go through a mental breakdown.

...No, even this book, no matter how cheesy, doesn't deserve that.

Someone knocks on the door. The sudden sound makes you tense up, but you get up after the second knock. With a hasty movement, you wipe your watery eyes and adjust the folds of your dress.

“I... I'm coming,” you mutter, praying that your voice won't falter. Before reaching the door, you glance at your reflection in the mirror and bite your lip at the sight of reddened eyes and cheeks, and you believe you make a sad sight.

After opening the door, the person in front of you surprises you: Mr Hearts, the kind soul who had spent the last moments of class with you. He’s not too tall a young man with dark hair and a gentle face. His cheeks look smooth and squeezable and are slightly flushed, maybe from the embarrassment that comes from the indecency of a man visiting a woman’s room alone. 

His laugh is a little awkward as he holds up the loose sheets of paper he has brought with him. “I sincerely apologize for the disturbance, Miss [Name], but... You left some of your notes behind, after leaving so quickly and... They might be important.”

You press your lips into a timid smile. A new wave of embarrassment washes over you at the memory of your behaviour. You feel stupid, knowing that this man took his time to find your room and return your notes, because of… you.

“Oh... Thank you kindly,” you smile shyly, taking the papers from his hands. “Would you like to come in for something to drink?” You invite him uncertainly and move away from the door, but Mr Hearts stops you. 

“There is no need, but I appreciate the offer. I came here unannounced, and I believe you might need some space today,” the student smiles a little more confidently, and you notice how charming he looks with such an expression. He must be popular with women.

“Then please let me repay you with a cup of tea someday,” you say. “I feel indebted to you.”

He chuckles. “Alright, lovely comrade in arms of trigonometry.”

“…That’s a long nickname.”

“Then, is ‘lovely comrade’ alright?” He offers, but he isn’t suave in these kinds of talks and you know his throat is going dry. You know the pain of this fellow introvert.

“…My name is enough.”

“Just your name?”

You huff at the way he squints his eyes and burst out in a friendly chuckle. “If you insist.”

“In that case, I would like to be called by just a name too. I’m August Hearst.”

“Thank you, Mr August. Oh, and since you are here...” You open one of the drawers and take out a white handkerchief which roses you have embroidered by hand. “I would like you to keep it... As in exchange for your support in class and your handkerchief.”

You hand him the handkerchief and have to push it aggressively into his hands before he finally accepts it.

Chapter III

August Hearst is a delightful gentleman.

You come to this conclusion in the next several days filled with shared classes. He's been taking the seat next to you whenever possible, greeted you every day with an amiable word and even a kinder smile, and tried to accompany you at each dinner.

Your dream of William Moriarty and the secret romance have been slowly distancing itself, when you were with August. Now you know that all the things that happened in your head were... too surreal to come to this reality. Out of your reach.

If you've learned anything from your romance books, it would be the obligation to back out in the name of others' happiness. And the main character in this story might be Mary.

You smile unconvincingly to yourself.

“[Name],” your attention returns to August again, who just finished tucking his books into his bag and is ready to go. He puts apologies in his mouth when he informs you that he isn't able to walk you back to the dorm today. “I'm sorry about that, [Name], but I promised someone...”

“Have no worry, August,” you interrupt him gently, getting up from your seat. You walked through the oaken door of the literature hall, where, for the last hour and a half, thirty students experienced the torment of detailed interpretation of ancient texts. No one knew there why have they chosen this subject to have scheduled obligatory amount of hours. You squeeze the textbooks closer to your chest. “I was going to excuse myself as well and check something in a library...”

Your companion gives you a nod and visible relief brightens his face. “You take the weight off my heart”.

The farewells exchanged, Mr Hearst disappears with his acquaintances from your sight, and you step into a wide, empty corridor, whose marble ornaments reflect late sunlight and some candles spaced around the way.

It isn't a rare sight—after evening classes it isn’t easy to find any students, who would still want to be in the building after a dozen (or so) hours of focused learning.

You are not here to learn more though. You are walking to get to your favourite entertainment, the world of fictional romance. The books are expensive, and getting your hands on many of them by the privilege of being a student here is something of your guilty pleasure, you wouldn't admit to Mr Hearst. 

You won't tell him right away, no. You don’t want him to see how almost the only genre you read is romance. If he finds out, he might think you have too rigoristic standards and that isn't true (or, you hope so). It certainly wouldn't encourage him to make a move if he is interested in you...

…

...Is he interested in you?

…

The library, as you expected, is empty.

You relax immediately. In front of you stand many bookcases filled with stories that only waited for someone who will get enchanted by a pretty cover and gorgeously scribbled titles. Your hands ache to get themselves to work and find another masterpiece.

You keep a slow pace as you walk between racks and read the catchy titles. Sometimes you take a book from its place to leaf through pages, guessing if it's interesting enough to take it back to your dorm by the lines that catch your eye.

Your eyes dart upwards and you find yourself staring at your favourite series and its newest volume, whose charm probably wouldn't understand even your favourite Mr Hearst.

The book you’ve been looking for stands maliciously high.

You don't know what kind of devil was climbing these shelves, but he had a ladder and set another volume higher than your hands could reach. The entire weight of your body falls on the toes of your feet, on which you stand to be taller, closer. It's not enough to reach the shelf. 

Yet you manage to get it. 

You feel a passive touch on your back, but your attention is sabotaged by a hand above you that grabs the book. You turn around quickly, and the rack next to you helps you to remain balanced.

“Is everything alright, miss [Name]?” Asks a familiar voice of the texture of honey and chocolate. “I thought you might need a helping hand.”

Professor William James Moriarty.

Your eyes met with the shiny crimson of your professor. It's your favourite shade of red, but you can't help but think that they are a bit darker than you remember as if they're covered with a cloud of smoke or heavy emotions.

The book is still in his hands when you greet him.

“Professor Moriarty, good evening...!” You say, your curtsy bow looks and feels stiffer than you would want it to. 

“I wasn't expecting anyone here at this hour,” he admits, smiling gently. He looks around the library. “Is Mr Hearst not with you?”

You shake your head. “No,” and add curiously: “Shall I go find him?”

“It won't be necessary. It's nothing urgent,” William assures you, taking a step back from you. The light rose aroma doesn’t leave you though. Was he that close to you if you could recognize such a delicate scent? “To say the truth, I am a little jealous.”

You get choked by a surprise.

“Je... Jealous? You, professor?” And another unsaid question: “Why?”

William's polite laugh rings in your ears.

“Of course. Miss [Name], it's very inappropriate for me to tell this to such a charismatic person as yourself, but I feel a bit lonely, if I dare to say, without your attention in my classes.”

“Ah,” I should've paid more attention to the classes... Are my grades that bad? “I'm sorry. I will focus more on my studies.”

“Let me rephrase this,” he corrects himself immediately as if he could find the doubts just by looking at you. “I would like to request your valued company more often. I found myself dissatisfied we couldn't find time to share a discussion on literature. And there comes an invitation: would you care to join me for a cup of tea if you could spare me an hour of your time?”

You gape at him.

What??

You can feel your body growing warmer and slowly breaking down, like an overheated machine. Your legs are going to give out, even though you want to fly with the butterflies in your stomach. That feeling has taken your ability to say even one word, so you just nod, hoping that this motion will express all of your excitement in a very polite manner.

William gets closer to you. He stands close enough to cover up your whole vision.

You think about moving away, but the back of your shoe is already touching the bookcase behind and your shoulders almost lean on the wall of books. William's hand reaches for the book next to your head, closing you in a half-embrace that limits your movements and the will to escape.

You can still turn around. Or start to scream if you want to get out of here. But...

William cups your cheek and tilts your head enough to have you looking into his eyes. You could see him clearly and be well aware of his gaze that wanders on your face with delight and some kind of excitement, although he keeps the gentleman's shtick that is always expected from every nobleman or professor.

But your observing time has ended, as you feel something on your lips.

The cover of the volume you were trying to reach before is pressed to your mouth. William is still looking at you with warmth, but he's... closer. You can't see his face anymore, mostly hidden by the book.

Your lips are being separated only by the cover and two hundred sheets of paper.

You hear a whisper against the other side of the book that you can’t catch the words, but it’s meaningless—you cannot focus on the same voice you have listened to for hours, relishing the opportunity to get to know such a wonderful voice.

You feel the cover pressed against your lips stay there for a moment, and then encounter the disappointment that William has moved away from you, although he still holds all of your attention.

...A kiss? Was it an indirect kiss? Was it just your illusion, a daydream, even though the untouchable evidence indicates otherwise? Are you going crazy?

You no longer have any perception in your fingers as William gently places the volume in your hands. With a kiss planted on the back of your hand, he bids you farewell. "I wish you a wonderful night, Miss [Name]. Enjoy your reading,” with a smile he leaves the library.

It is long after sunset.

You arrive at your room with a foggy mind.

You don’t open the book, which you set down carefully on the bedside table, although every glance you cast at it makes you shudder.

After two hours you fall asleep. Mary hasn't returned to her room for the night.

...

You wake up abruptly, finding the alarm clock ringing too loud.

Your cheeks burn red as you look around the room and glance at the book next to the bed, feeling your face heat up even more.

You walk briskly to the bathroom to get ready for today's class. You cast a glance at your roommate's bedspread. It is in the same condition as yesterday—a black dress and an ironed shirt lie on a tidy beige bed. The history textbook doesn't seem to have been touched and the box of new slippers Mary had been excited about recently hasn't even been opened.

“She didn't come back for the night...?” It is nothing new, yet for some reason, you feel a pang of uneasiness. You shake your head. She probably fell asleep at someone’s else house. Nevertheless, it’s painful to wake up alone in the room you should be sharing with someone else.

You glance at a book and put a hand on its cover. Somehow, the hope pours into you like a warm honey.

…

“You seem to be in a good mood today, [Name],” Mr Hearst smiles at you, sitting opposite you with his plate of food.

“Is that so? I just feel… lucky today.”

“I wish I had your happiness today. Give me some, please.”

“It’s mine,” you laugh, and he squints his eyes at you in a playful annoyance. His smile looks a little strained, so you decide to ask. “Well then, is something wrong?”

He looks as if he wants to count his misfortunes on his fingers but bites his tongue and sighs. “It’s nothing that critical,” and you imagine another idea came to his mind, but before he says it, Professor William comes to your table.

“I apologize for the interruption,” he says in a worried voice that suggests that something is wrong, “but could I have a word with Miss [Name]? It's an urgent matter.”

“Is something wrong, Professor...?” You throw an apologetic glance at August and move away from the table. Could it be that he wanted to bring up the subject of the previous meeting...? Well, you have agreed to have tea together, but in your spirit, you hope he won't ask for it yet. You wanted to prepare for it... Mentally. Perhaps even arrange a few false scenarios in your head, just in case, as it sometimes enhances your courage.

However, it is not what William had in mind.

“Have you seen Miss Hale? She didn't turn up for our last class, although she promised me personally that she would.”

“Mary...?” You ponder, and the sting of uneasiness from the morning returns to poke your heart. “She didn't come back last night... Maybe she stayed with, um, her friends, but I haven't spoken to her. We've been passing each other a lot lately...”

Within another hour you land in William James Moriarty's temporary office, nervously clutching your skirt and stewing in an atmosphere of concern.

Mary has disappeared.

You don’t yet know if something was going on with her, but the general confusion has sensitised your nerves.

“Here, tea,” a cup of Earl Grey appeared in your hand. It warms your hands. “How are you feeling?”

You take a sip of tea, which is a bit too hot, and gaze into space expectantly. Politeness and etiquette require you to say ‘alright’, but you couldn't think of anything of anything other than your housemate.

You start to regret not talking to her more before as you would have a better idea of what places she goes to.

“Truly...” Your voice cracks. “Truly, no one knows what happened to Mary? She... She was still in class yesterday after all! She was asking me for notes for a test, and.... and now nobody knows where she is.”

William shakes his head and takes the cup from your hands before your grip loosens. He stands at the side of the sofa you are sitting on and leans towards you.

“I won’t make empty promises that everything will be alright,” he says, not taking his eyes off yours, “but you must believe that I will do everything in my power to get Miss Hale back to the dorm in a safe condition.”

You nod gratefully but awkwardly.

“Thank you very much, Professor Moriarty.”

“There is yet another matter we need to discuss. Miss [Name], it would be very dangerous for you to be alone at a time like this. We don’t yet know the cause of Miss Hale's disappearance, so there would be no one there to help you,” you bite your lip so as not to interrupt him and tell him that Mary was not much of a help anyway, “in case of an accident....”

“Will I be moved to somewhere else, then?”

“As all the rooms are occupied and the two other female students cannot be separated either (We wouldn't want to leave either of them alone, would we? That would defeat the purpose). I made a proposal to the management, which will only be executed with your permission.”

You look at him curiously.

“A proposal?”

William smiles.

“You will move into my property... Until the matter resolves.”

CHAPTER IV

You aren’t sure how he did it, but everything has gone just the way he wanted.

Somehow, you got allowed to move to Mr Moriarty. You had never heart of management pulling a move like that—did they really put your safety above the moral principles they were so protective of?—so until you stood before his property, you weren’t fully convinced you were going to move. 

You take a deep breath, however, this doesn’t calm you down at all.

The door in front of you opens before William can reach its handle. Into them appears a man resembling your professor with the same blonde hair colour and remarkable scarlet eyes. Your gaze wanders between William and his likeness.

“This is my younger brother, Louis,” William introduced the man, clearly amused by your confusion.

His brother...!

“Pleased to meet you,” he bows slightly.

“Me too, sir...” you reply with the same curtsy.

“Allow me,” he carefully takes over your luggage. You mouth a "thank you" and he brings over the bags without much difficulty and disappears down the corridor. He is back in a minute and by the speed at which he took care of things you think he is one hell of a butler.

“Before we move on to breakfast, brother William wanted me to show you around the estate,” Louis announces, greeting you with a tray of fresh tea in his hand. You wondered if you were being treated too well here. “There's no need to worry. It will be a short trip.”

“Alright,” you nod and, after finding that the tea is not that hot, take a sip of it. A pleasant warmth hugged you from the inside. “This is such a delicious tea...”

Louis smiles because William asked him to be very kind to you.

...Although he still feels that no one is worthy of so much attention from his brother.

…

“This is a library,” the door creaks open and another wonder of the world reveals itself to your eyes. It’s much smaller than the library at the university, but it seems in spotless condition and has more novels and math books. There are maps, history books and psychological documents too. You ignore the staccato in your chest. “Miss [Name], I heard you like books.”

“Ah-!” You look at him surprised. “I do indeed love them. Did you hear about it from Professor William?”

“Yes,” he replies, and the indifference in his voice slowly begins to break. “Brother William said the books brought you closer together or so.”

Well, books were the reason why you thought about Professor Moriarty so often. He was well-read, so you had insightful chit-chats about the literature.

The scene from the library invades your brain once again. William still hasn’t confronted you about the kiss or anything. The tension that magazined in your muscles in the last few days is almost painful.

Louis grunts quietly. “You are invited to come here whenever you would like to. Brother Wi—"

“Oh, is that Miss [Name]?” Another voice interrupts Louis’ words, and a man in a grey suit seems to rise from under the ground and appear before you. Optimism, elegance and style—a lethal mix for sensitive hearts—emit in his every word and movement, and you can immediately tell that the visitor has a much more sociable life than you. “She is even more lovely than I imagined.”

“Miss [Name] This is James," Louis introduces the blond man, and he makes a curt nod.

He smiles, grasping your hand in an almost theatrical way. “At your service,” he said, winking at you. He then shifted his attention to Louis. “Are you showing her around the mansion?”

Louis nods affirmatively.

“We have only just started, but Brother William asked for a brief recce for Miss [Name].”

“I can gladly do that if you want to,” James offers. “Don't blame me, but, in my opinion, there are too many guys here. And a woman here,” for stressing the term he gets a chastising look from Louis, “is something unheard of! You have to prepare everything for our wonderful breakfast, isn't that right?”

Louis thought for a moment and sighed.

He turns to you. “Miss [Name]. Would you mind if Mr James took care of you for the next twenty minutes? I'm quite needed to prepare the meal.”

“Of course not,” You replied immediately, not wanting to be a burden to Louis, who seemed to take care of the whole household on his own. You pondered why an aristocrat and the brother of a professor decided to take on such a role.

“Lovely,” James stands right next to you, ready to make a quick round around the property. He looks at you with a glint in his eye. “So, shall we start with the garden? It would be worth introducing Fred to you and the atmosphere there is just.... muah,” he kisses his fingertips.

Louis moved in the opposite direction to you. “She is… okay,” he admits to himself in thought as he walks through the main hall to get to the dining room. He isn’t sure if okay is enough to hoard so much of Brother William’s attention. “Ah, that's right. I should tell Moran to not—.“

—Slam!!

With a mighty step comes Moran, who has terrible timing. Although Louis hopes he won’t notice you by the breakfast, the man’s gaze almost automatically goes in your direction as you walk out the door with James.

He manages to catch your curious eye.

A smile stretches his lips.

He approaches you with a wry grin, and you carefully scrutinise him with your eyes. You have to admit that he is handsome, however he seems to be more Mary's type, judging by the looks of the men she’d been hanging out with. You bite the inside of your cheek at the thought of your roommate.

As Moran approaches you, James grows instantly gloomier as if his entrance was some kind of a bad joke you can’t help but sight upon hearing. “What do you want?”

“Is there a problem, Bond?” He rolls his eyes.  “I just wanted to say hello,” he turns towards you, and a charming smile appears on his lips. “Sebastian Moran, it's a pleasure to me—"

“Oh, there you are, Miss [Name].” Moran's statement is interrupted by William's voice coming from behind the dark-haired man. You get a feeling that Moran is disliked here, or they are all trying to bully him on purpose. Whether it’s a daily occurrence, but the man only smirks at William’s arrival.

“Professor Moriarty...”

“Breakfast is ready. I would suggest going back inside,” he smiles, sending Sebastian a warning look.

James sighs a little disappointed.

“I will go look for Fred in that case...”

***

The breakfast passes in a pleasant atmosphere, thanks to which you get acquainted with the residents of the mansion. They are very... lively. The meal started with the petty banter exchanged between Moran and Bond and ended with everyone getting busy with their duties. Thanks to them all, you’ve been able to take a little break from the overwhelming reality, for which you were very grateful.

After the tea, you move to the living room at the request of William. You sit down in the armchair opposite him, taking a book borrowed from James. There is a comfortable silence between you, accompanied by the sound of pages being turned. Your body relaxes. You haven't had many opportunities to do so lately, so you appreciate being able to rest at William's side and even hope that such moments could be endless...

“How do you find it here?”

You look up from your book and smile.

“It's lovely here,” you reply without a second thought. There is nothing you would complain about. “And everyone is very nice. I didn't know you, professor, had a brother! Mr Louis is a truly outstanding chef... Any chance he could share the recipe of those tarts that were on the table?”

William chuckles, and you put the book aside. Fictional romances are interesting, but talking to William could draw you in even more. “Of course. Although... I don't know if I'd like it myself.”

You twitch with nervousness.

“O-oh,” you corrected the folds of your skirt, somehow not having the strength to look at William. “If I ask for too much, then, of course—"

“I apologize. I phrased it wrong,” William interrupts you softly, placing his hand gently on your shoulder. Since when did he sit so close to you? Just as you remembered, the floral scent that was in the library strikes you once more. “That's not what I meant.”

He grunts and straightens up, shifting his hand from your shoulder to the palms of your hands.

“The truth is, I have an issue,” he smiles weakly, and your heart leaps with emotion. William trusts you that much to speak freely about his problems? “And it consists in the fact that I have never known what you take interest in,” saying this, he lies. “We’ll certainly give you the recipe but rather as in exchange. I’d love to learn much more about you, so you will be able to count on me even more.”

You choke on your tea.

“I...” Your voice is hoarse and you have no idea how should you respond with your tongue tied with a stir. “I am not sure if it is possible to make me even more dependent on you, Professor. Especially as I am living in your house for the moment, and I’ve been treated with nothing but kindness.”

“Yet I am even more infatuated with you when you’re here,” William whispers.

He dangerously closes the distance. He teases you, moving closer and closer to you more and more slowly and not allowing you to look away from him.

If before, in the school library, you were separated by a book, now there is not one.

…

There is Louis.

Louis knocks on the room and makes you jump away from William to the other end of the sofa. William looks as if he is suppressing a chuckle before turning to his brother.

“Brother William, Miss [Name], the carriage has been prepared,” he says, bowing in a butler manner. “Mr James and Mr Moran are already waiting downstairs.”

“Professor Moriarty, are we going somewhere?”

William takes another sip of tea, seeming completely unmoved in contrast to you. He’s calm yet cannot stop himself from looking up from the brim of his book to watch your reaction.

“We are going to the city, Miss [Name].”

CHAPTER V

London is bustling at this hour. The streets are filled with carriages, finely dressed people stroll along the pavements and children run around them. The image spreading before you had something magical about it, even though it represented the everyday life of the capital's inhabitants.

“Miss [Name]?” William's voice snaps you out of your reverie. You turn an offered arm. You feel shy from the gesture, but you politely accept it.

“...Professor, where are we going?” You ask upon noticing that you are heading to the richer neighbourhoods. Even if someone doesn’t know London very well, the gap between each zone is striking. The buildings here are prettier and you gape at the picturesque area.

“To the tailor,” he says simply, stopping in front of an exclusive-looking shop window.

You freeze in spirit. The displayed gowns are beautiful, richly embellished, and certainly sewn from the highest quality material. You swallow your saliva, glancing uncertainly at Moriarty. You are sure that your money wouldn’t let you afford a little scrape of the fabric, not when it all goes on books. 

“Professor Moriarty... I'm afraid it's not for my budget...” You laughed awkwardly.

“Consider it a gift from me. We don’t know how much time we’ll be lucky to share, yet a fine dress might be required if the guests will visit the mansion.”

“I... I don't know if I can accept your gift...” You hesitate. “I am grateful, but, I… Just can’t. I am not accustomed to such gifts and I won’t be ever able to repay you a gift like that.”

“I insist,” he says but it doesn’t convince you. William sighs. “Then, how about a deal?” He suggests. You perk up and that’s not something you should have done because a lady mustn’t be involved in such atrocious activities. “I will buy you a dress, and as... As compensation of sorts, you will show me your favourite place. You’ve been living not too far away from here, isn’t that so?”

“This is not—"

“This is a very fair exchange, Miss [Name]," he interrupts you, knowing what you wanted to say. You press your lips into a narrow line. It is a bad idea, however, seeing how persistent William is...

“If you insist...”

“I very much insist,” he replies, satisfied with your answer. He then smiles as if he had realised something. “One more thing, Miss [Name]. I think we should address each other by our first names for a while if we don't want to stir up gossip. What will people think when someone discovers that an unmarried woman is staying in a house full of strange men? We should give the impression of family.”

...William could not have cared less about the public opinion of him in this situation.

He almost pushes you through the door into the dressmaker's shop. By the time you blink, you are surrounded by a garland of women. One of them speaks to William, and the other gets a signal to take your measurements. You hold your breath as they do so.

Once everything is written down, you and William could move on.

...

“Professor Moriarty...”

“Once again, [Name]. I believe you can manage to call me by name. Only then will I listen to you.”

“Mr William...”

“Almost there.”

“…William.” You say in a half-hearted voice. Saying his name out loud is much more difficult than in your head. “Are you... Are you sure it's not too much? All those accessories... The outfit alone must cost a fortune.”

“If I am sure of anything, it is that it is all money was well spent.”

“…I don’t concur.”

William smiled at your words and took a sip of ginger tea. You’ve been having an awful lot of tea parties lately. The taste of this brew is no match for the one Louis brewed, but it is certainly one of the local delicacies.

The tea and cake shop you are in is one of the most famous establishments in the city. The upper terrace—where you are now—is open to those with money. It’s not one of the more expensive venues, but certainly one of the more charming.

Despite the hour, there are almost no customers.

“Does the dessert not suit your tastes?” William prompts, looking at your plates.

You both have slices of fresh strawberry tart that was made with a thin, soft sponge cake, a layer of heavy cream and sweet and sour strawberry jam in between.  

A teapot of tea is constantly warmed on a porcelain stand, and cups in floral patterns stand right next to your plates. Vases of freshly squeezed juices and water were placed on the table next to you.

It is the most varied afternoon tea you've been to recently. And everything is delicious.

“No, I like it very much”' you reply, quickly scooping up a larger piece of cake, which you gracefully shove into your mouth that of course you had to choke on it.

“I'm very concerned about your ability to get into trouble,” William says handing you a glass of water that helped you to swallow the cake. 

“It's not that everything I do is that chaotic.” You try to explain, taking a sip of tea, and forgetting that the jug is constantly heated doesn’t help your case.

“Did you burn yourself?” He asks and by the look on his face, you know your actions nor words haven’t convinced him. You croak, a little disappointed in your luck, but more by the burnt tongue. “Please show me the world, it can be more serious.”

“There is- no need for that…”

“That's what ice is good for,” William states as he stands up and walks over to the table next to him. He takes a piece of ice from a small bowl which, although it was meant to cool the juices, seemed perfect to treat your burn.

“I... What should I do about it?” You asked uncertainly. Ice? In the spring? Ah yes, it must have been one of those latest inventions... Refridgerorator? Refrigerator? “Should I... bite it? Eat it?... William...”

“You make it very difficult for me,” he says taking the nearest seat to you and putting an ice into his mouth.

Huh?

…Oh.

Oh! So it was for him! Or maybe, he shows you what you should do with the ice? You will need to grab another cube.

William’s hand finds its way to your cheek, which he turns towards you. You open your mouth to ask if is everything alright.

He’s been waiting for this to move closer to you. His lips fit into yours, and you immediately feel the coolness and heat, the ice and William, bursting in your mouth. The scent of ink, books and roses surrounds you, and a hand on your nape makes sure you won’t pull back from the kiss.

An ice cube gets into your mouth. You forget about the burn, as your lungs begin to run out of air, but you don’t pull away. Neither does William, who even deepens the kiss; his other hand goes to your chair to support himself when he leans into you.

Now you are running out of air.

William moves away, but only because of the footsteps of a client, who likely enjoyed the terrace of the cake shop. William puts a distance between you that would never have suggested that a moment ago.

“The ice should have completely melted by now,” William says softly, and you are struck by how calm he looked. All you can see on his cheeks is a pale blush. “If you want more, don’t hesitate to ask,” he says and looks deadly serious as if he wasn’t teasing you.

You envy him for how composed he looks, as another couple who just got to the floor are throwing you a strange look. You are looking like a mess, for sure.

William crosses his arms. He smiles at you, and you still can’t get a word out. You would like to reproach him for the… act, immediate and rough kiss, but the very fact that you have not yet fled spoke for itself.

“Shall we go to the next place, [Name]?”

You bite the inside of your cheek gently as you nod and grasp his arm. He glances at his watch.

“We still have some time before it starts to get dark... It might be a good time to fulfil the deal on your end, [Name]," he says in a gentle tone.

You sigh softly. Favourite place...? The first thing you think of is the library. It is a too-obvious choice, though. The library at Moriarty’s is also the one you’re currently enamoured with. 

…Well, there is one place you remember liking as a child.

How long has it been since you've been there?

“Alright," you smile at him, taking first steps in an unfamiliar direction. William, wordlessly lets you guide him to the place you’ve spent hours dreaming in and about.

CHAPTER VI

The rusted gate is overgrown with ivy and it’s the first thing that catches William's attention. You open it with a loud creak. The place turned out to be... Slightly further away than you remembered, so the sun has already started to set.

You watch William’s face as you enter the wild gardens. Unruly plants grow on the ground and between the paving stones. The place you decided to take William to is an old botanical garden, which no one has been interested in for a good few years. 

Well, maybe just you.

“So… This is a place I have great memories from,” you introduce the place, spreading your arms a little like a showman.

“It's beautiful here,” he admits, looking around. “It's a surprising view, considering we were in the city centre not so long ago.”

A content blush spreads over your cheeks. This time not from embarrassment—you’ve been feeling bashful too much lately, you think—but from sheer glee. You are happy that the place appeals to William.

“Romance books were almost forbidden in my home when I was so little. I had to borrow ones from the neighbours and sneak out to read here," you confess, directing deeper into the garden.

“Really? I wouldn't expect such rebellious behaviour from you.”.

“Oh, when I was younger I did much worse than sneaking out of the house," you sigh, stepping ahead of him. William raised his eyebrows, and you felt your legs slowly stiffen. Since when did you stop being a quiet introvert? You feel an urge to explain. “Like, um, stealing food from the kitchen and blaming it on the dogs. Or borrowing my mother’s cosmetics... without asking.”

He laughs at that. “You surprise me more and more, Miss [Name].”

You arrive at your favourite part of the garden. It is a gazebo overgrown with wild roses. In the middle of it stay wooden chairs and a table, swathed by moss.

“I remember losing my favourite doll here, but I was afraid to tell my mother about it because she would find out about my sneaking out," you laugh at the memory, one of many that return while wandering.

You notice how William hasn’t said a word for a while. A pang of guilt pierces your heart. “Oh, sorry! The stories of my childhood are not the most interesting ones.”

“They are. Actually...” He lowers his voice and leans to him to hear the words better. He speaks right into your ear. “It would be my pleasure to hear more... I would like to get to know you better [Name].”

“Well...” You look at him from under your lashes, trying to guess his expectations for you. To your misfortune, neither his smile nor his eyes betray anything except his curiosity. “What would to know about me?”

William points to the space between the hedge and the woodland.

“Let’s speak in a more comfortable place.”

He grabs you under the arm, and you rise from the table. William offers to go ahead, pushing back the tall grass that reached his knees.

“Ah!” You hold your breath. You find it hard not to smile as you are flooded with fond memories. “It's been so long since I've been here that I'd almost forgotten...”

A tall oak tree with a gigantic crown casts a shadow over you. Thick ropes are tied around the thick bough. Perhaps they had once held the anchor of a small ship. Britain is, of course, a maritime country and, in a time of an over-revolutionary world, finding miscellaneous materials from machines outside the city is not uncommon.

The ropes, apart from thick knots on a high branch, are neatly tied to a heavy board half a metre above the ground.

“I couldn't have climbed up here on my own when I was younger,” you admit, your eyes searching for the stone you brought from the bushes to elevate yourself onto the swing. “Although I suspect I would still have a problem with that.”

“I'll help you,” William offers, lending you one hand and entwining the other around your waist.

“ It’s a-all right," you protest, but the grip on your body only tightens.

William does not let go.

William tries.

William learns he is not strong enough to lift you that high, even if you were the lightest woman in London.

“Please don't strain yourself...!” You squealed quietly as you tightened your fingers on the ropes. You use all your strength to pull yourself up and finally sit on the board, which squats under your weight.

Your cheeks are hot and visibly red; his because of the sudden exertion, yours through embarrassment… and maybe endearment.

And delight. Few men would tear through the wilderness to put you on the swing.

“I know you're thinking about something untrue," William says. His eyes are now on the same level as yours, and once again you can admire his features from a different perspective.

His hands stay on both sides of you, clamping the ropes. The swing moves under his force, and your legs move further away from the ground.

“So,” William begins again, moving away from you and letting gravity do the work. You start to sway slightly. “What books did you read as a child?”

“Please don't think I've been... uh, like this all along,” you said quickly. William laughs under his breath, and you lower your gaze to the ground. “I mean... I borrowed some books from my neighbours, but I mostly read what was on the shelves in my parents' house.”

“Was it a big house?”.

“Neither big, neither small. It's not comparable to your residence, of course,” you take a moment to think about it. “But every room there is cosy. I still think it is one of the most beautiful places on earth.”

“More than a library?”

“…They are both gorgeous and outstanding.”

“But if you had to choose one?”

“Don’t ask so difficult questions, please,” you say with a chuckle that William shares.

At that moment a rustle comes from the bushes near you. It is a loud sound, as if staged.

By the bushes, at a very respectful and polite distance, stands Fred, his clothes in no way tarnished, although he seems to be coming from a part of the garden where you have to make your way through the low branches.

He nods in greeting you and waits for the permission to speak.

William helps you jump off the swing and, after taking you under his arm, allows Fred to come closer. He looks at him significantly to weigh his words.

You couldn’t catch the boy staring, but you feel his gaze on you when he opens his mouth.

“We found Mary Hale.”

CHAPTER VII

You hurry into the living room of William's residence. There you find Mary, extremely exhausted, wrapped in a blanket in a large armchair, drinking. She looks very different from the last time you saw her. She has dark circles under her eyes, and her face is almost morbidly pale. Mary's clothes have never been so crumpled before.

“Mary...!” You call out and take her into a tight embrace, glad she is back. Safe. You might not be particularly close, but you’ve been still worried about her.

“[Name]...” Mary struggles to reply, not knowing what kind of words she could share with you. She seems not even to have the strength to reciprocate the hug.

You move away from her and tears create in the corners of your eyes. “You’re okay...! “

She smiles uncomfortably.

“We have notified your family and Mr Hearst as you requested,” Louis announces, pouring tea into Mary's cup.

The girl nodded and seemed to want to say something more, but before that, someone burst into the room.

“Mary! Thank God you're here!” August runs up to her, grabbing her shoulders. She sends him a weak smile, but it dies as August turns his attention to you. “Oh, [Name]! How good that you are safe too. I was really worried when you disappeared so suddenly.”

Mary's face clouds over. She's the one who's been through hell the last few days, so why are you the one who's focused attention on...? Are you and August Hearst...?

She sighs, and William can’t help but notice the dissatisfaction in her eyes. The case is not going his way. He had particularly told Mary that they had found her thanks to Mr Hearst, and she—as he predicted—already took an interest in him. He was a good, wealthy, honest man who had “saved” her. 

However, he doesn't seem to notice. His attention is focused on you, which inwardly irritates William. 

“I’m fine, August... I was safe at the professor's side, as you can see,” you smile convincingly. August looks with a dull gaze at William and nods. He turns to Mary.

“What has happened to you Mary...?” August asks. “Suddenly a strange anonymous message came to me....”

“Miss, [Name],” you hear Louis' voice near you. “I need you to leave for a while. This is important information in the investigation, and we believe that knowing what has happened might put you in danger.”

“Is… it really that dangerous?” You ask with disbelief and worry.

“We know you care about Miss Mary, yet…”

“A-alright,” you bow slightly and take your leave.

Whatever the meeting was about, you never found out.

From August, you’ve learned that Mary Hale does not want to return to the family home; she will have the week off from classes and is required to stay in another room.

When asked if this meant you were going back to your dorm, William shook his head.

“Miss Hale needs peace,” he replied, and you slowly concluded that you were too low-energy a person to disturb someone like Mary. William smiled. “Unfortunately, but you can be very distracting. She will have arranged a room especially to look after her.”

…You wonder why you couldn't have had the same privilege when you needed a single room as well.

“Miss [Name],” August calls. He seems a little paler than before and is carefully eyeing William as he speaks. The professor sips his tea calmly. “Would you do me the honour of accompanying me back to the academy tomorrow?”

You smile at him. “Su—"

...And William answers for you. “Unfortunately Mr Hearst, I must ask you to be present fifteen minutes before class starts. Our lessons must go on, and we've accumulated a bit of a backlog over the last week, don’t you think?”

“Professor Moriarty," August’s voice is filled with a firmness you have never heard from him before. You look at him in surprise which escalates when he gently moves closer to you so that the sleeves of his suit lightly brush against the folds of your dress.

You freeze in place, knowing that whichever way you moved you would find yourself too close to August or William. You hold your breath as if its irregular rhythm betrays your tension.

“Professor Moriarty,” August appeals again, feeling that his words are not getting through to William, who stares at him. Although the chill gaze isn’t directed at you, a shiver comes down your spine. “I don't want to sound rude, but shouldn't you, as a supervisor, be concerned with the safe return of Miss Mary Hale to the dormitory?”

William smiles, although the air around him goes cold.

August stands up quickly and, somewhat forcing you to go with the rules of etiquette extends his hand, which you have to accept.

Your hand finds its way under August's arm. You two—although you not so willingly—leave.

How are you going to return to William’s residence now? Maybe you will stay on campus, or should you get a carriage??

“You have no idea how deep an emotion you evoke in me.”

…?

These are August's words when he considers that you have already moved a fair distance away. His eyes twinkle as he says it, a mottled blush sets on his cheeks and Mr Hearst himself seems like a character straight out of a book.

You can even sum the plot to the current point: a new student and a shy student are assigned to a class together; the charismatic boy quickly falls in love with the typical girl, and she slowly opens up just for him... How many times have you read something with a similar trope?

Not that you want to flatter yourself—being the protagonist of such a classic romance is a compliment, after all, right?—But it's so hard not to substitute August for this gentlemanly extrovert who wins girls' hearts with the blink of his eye.

And the fact that he was now in front of you and stammering over the words he was about to say makes you suddenly stop.

“August, I—"

“The situation with Mary made me realize that… If something like that would ever happen to you, I would go insane with worry.”

You fail to think of anything you can say. Well, you always wanted to have a romance, right?

But…

Every place that William ever kissed you, starts to burn.

“I... Unfortunately, but...”

You read so many romances; there was bound to be some rejectionist dialogue in those. What did they sound like?

“I am... I am truly honoured, Mr Hearst, but...”

The knot in your throat makes it difficult to say the words.

August knows what you want to say; his grip on your hand tightens involuntarily, and a small wave of panic floods your body. He’s doing it unconsciously, he’s in pain right now, but… 

You wouldn't be able to break out of his embrace alone.

“Miss [Name].”

Your heads quickly turn towards the voice whose owner turned out to be Louis. He bowed elegantly and, putting his hand to his chest, continued to speak.

“Brother William wanted me to inform you that the carriage is already waiting for you.”

August cuts in.

“I am sorry, but we agreed that Miss [Name] is coming back with me.”

Louis squints at him, unhappy William’s words aren’t accepted just like that.

“The plans have changed. I was told to bring Miss [Name] back.”

You feel on your skin the reluctance with which August releases you from his embrace. Sparks of guilt glitter in his eyes and the corners of his mouth twitch uncontrollably. Immense regret pours over your heart as you realise that you have failed to reject him without hurting him.

...On the other hand, would it ever be possible?

August's gaze did not leave you until you got into the carriage. Only then he shakes himself off and with an abrupt step walks away. You suspect your next encounter will not be very pleasant. You’ve just lost a friend.

“Were you willing to accept his proposal?”

You turn to William, who sits opposite you and waits for your reaction. Your skirt is voluminous enough to hide your shaking heart.

Maybe if Mary hadn't liked August so much and if William James Moriarty hadn't been your teacher, maybe then... No.

You shake your head. “I adore him as a friend.”

“So please don’t feel sorry," he says in a calm voice and with a gentle smile offers comfort. “I will make sure that only friendship remains between you.”

...

...

...?

August Hearst has no idea how he got into this situation.

Ten minutes ago he came to meet Professor Moriarty, who had told him the previous day that he would need to speak to him about the overall backlog.

He never expected William to serve him this kind of lesson.

It's really hard to see what's going on outside when you're locked in a bookcase. Only the gap between the wings of the door allowed him a peek at what was going on inside the hall. He has a view of the blackboard, the very centre of the auditorium and the desks, including his own, where he had sat until a few days ago when he had lectures.

He could feel the thick ribbons rubbing against his wrists and ankles; one of them served to cover his mouth. He can’t say anything or move, but he knows that if he makes too loud a sound, Professor Moriarty, who is fully aware of his presence—as he was the one who has put him here—will kick him out of school.

He didn't even need to warn him personally—the unspoken prohibition hung in the air as soon as William closed the wardrobe.

“William?”

Oh no.

August really doesn’t want to hear your voice. His heart has yet to be rehabilitated. He isn’t sure if a whole year will be enough.

On the other hand, he so badly wants you to come up to that bookcase now. August is convinced that the reason he is in this situation is your relationship with Professor Moriarty. He feels the sting of hatred for the professor, but the gentleness with which William handled you made him unable to consider him inferior in this situation.

“[Name],” Since when does Professor Moriarty's voice sound so warm? August wonders in his mind. “I'm sorry to call you out at such an early hour, but... we're both aware that you also need a repetition of exam material.”

“Of course,” you move towards the chair. William lightly catches your hand in his and brings you closer.

“Today we’ll have a special lesson for a special student,” he replies with amusement at the question in his eyes. “I have tasks already prepared for you. Starting from the beginning...”

You grab a piece of chalk and stand in front of the blackboard. William, along with a file of notes, walks behind your back and saunters in circles.

He dictates the questions. You immediately get to work.

The pattern? You already remember it after you failed the exam six months ago. Since then, it has haunted you even in your dreams.

And calculating it? …Maybe you’ve got a little problem with numbers.

William's drawing of perfect straight strokes presents an irregular triangle with three signed side lengths and its heights.

...The first thing you need to do is to use the cosine theorem. You needed a cosine, an angle.

...

...

...

How were the angles calculated?

“William... Uh... I think I'm hugely deficient… Today,” you sigh, lowering the chalk and stepping away from the blackboard. William casts a glance at the blackboard and then at you. “Could I have a hint...?”

A smile stretches his lips.

“But of course,” he replied, walking up to you. 

You hold your hand out to him, from which he takes the chalk but also brings itself closer. His fingers intertwine with yours, and your face is right next to his. He leans down, his lips brushing your collarbone and inhales your perfume.

Sweet. Could it be a rose?

You’re matching now.

He nibbles on your skin, and you gasp quietly in surprise. Slowly, you begin to get used to his touch, but the moment you start to crave it he lifts his head so that he meets your eyes.

“That is the fee for the hint," he flashes you a charming smile. So now he is demanding something in return for his help? Was that the purpose of this repetition?

“…William!” you say, feeling your body overheating. This was supposed to be a lesson! A repetition! And you are going to leave it with grace and knowledge, even if you had to lie about whether you liked the whole event or not. “T… this is still a public place!”

He doesn’t let you move away. He teases you by closing his behind your back.

“Please don't worry. It's not like anyone can see us.”

You blush even harder and William casts a fleeting glance towards the wardrobe.

“And if one’s watching, let them watch.”

CHAPTER VIII

You sigh, looking out of the window. The weather today is not spoiling anyone, and the constant rain puts you in a nostalgic mood. Just to think that not so long ago you were just an ordinary student with a slightly over-exuberant imagination and an obsession with romance...

And now? The former may not have changed, but you feel as if you have become the main character of the novella you loved so much. Being an ordinary townswoman, you have gained the attention of your handsome professor-aristocrat, as well as from your colleague... It seemed too... unrealistic. Fictional.

Your relationship with William is... Exactly what is it? Neither of you ever uttered "I love you" or proposed a relationship, yet your interactions...

You blush at the memory of the scene an hour ago. Your actions hint at a close relationship, yet deep inside you feel apprehension. What if your unspoken feelings don't last? If you are going to be left alone? Would you be able to survive this? Will your heart be able to bear such a disappointment? 

You shake your head, returning your gaze to the notebook. This is not the time for such thoughts, but nevertheless, your hands tightened on the material of your skirt. You take a deep breath and try to focus on the rest of the lecture.

"William is truly amazing, you think as you watch him. Not only does he teach maths at university, he also helps Mary and you. Your gazes cross for a moment and you reflexively look at your notebook, but there are just minutes left before the end of the class.

William announces the end and the students start to pack their things into their bags. 

“Miss [Name],” you hear him after everyone else exits the class. You turned around, looking warmly at William. “I would like to talk to you today about something very important to me.”

***

You are unable to find out where William is leading you. He dismisses your every question like a politician, but in return for not answering, he places a kiss on your finger joints. You don’t break out of his embrace or even comment on it, even when you get into the carriage and his hand is still clamped on yours.

“Aren't you cold?” He asks, looking at the overcast sky. The sun has hidden behind the rain-threatening clouds after you got into the carriage. The wheels rattle against the stones even faster. He wants to hide in some inn as soon as possible, but he cannot ignore the aristocrat's wish or his money.

You shake your head at William's question. You are warm.

Your vehicle doesn’t stop until forty minutes later, under the old church. It is tall and built of heavy stone. The grey sky gives it an underwhelming atmosphere, but the beautiful buildings and decorations that lasted for many years reinforce your belief that it had once been a majestic and beautiful building. It still has its charm and solemnity in its appearance, but you can’t imagine anyone choosing it over the local cathedrals.

William pushes open the massive wooden door. They opened with a quiet squeak and immediately ushered you into the damper, cooler and quieter air. The raindrops were already almost inaudible compared to the sound of your footsteps.

He leads you to the confessional; he doesn’t even glance towards the altar illuminated by flashes of lightning, or towards the pews, the wood of which was indeed soaked with water. They are dark and smell of earth and the weeds that grow around them.

He seats you where a confessor would normally sit. You protest silently, but William proves to have a better understanding of human physics, for he does not use much force, but still seats you deep inside the confessional. You don’t even dare to flinch and look anxiously at the door as if someone is about to reprimand you for your behaviour.

“May He be praised.”

William walks across to the kneeler. He crosses himself without saying anything and leans towards the grating of the confessional. You are sure he could feel your gaze on him, even though you try to avert it from him. Apparently, he doesn’t mind, and just demands your attention, because he nods as if agreeing to whatever you are going to do now.

“I know the text for the confession, but it can't look like that now,” he says rather loudly, not like a repentant man who is supposed to confess his sins. “I am not looking for forgiveness here. I am not looking for repentance, although perhaps you, [Name], could be my path to purification. I... came here to share my sins with you, because I love you dearly,” your heart skips a beat, “but in order to keep you in my life, I need you to let you get to every part of it. I will keep you safe, of course, but I must make you aware of something.”

You nod but are too nervous to interrupt him. It is a gesture so subtle as to be almost imperceptible, but William notices it. He goes on:

“I am.... a person who pursues an objective regardless of the means, as long as someone close to me is not involved. I do this by means of a certain service of a crime consultant and I clear the world of fake people.”

Here he looks at you. You stare at him as if under the spell, but you don’t really know how to answer him.

“This morning,” he continues, “certain aristocrat was murdered... I believe you already know the news, “he says because your eyes glaze over in recognition. “I would not kill an innocent man, [Name]. That man was notorious on the black market. He had four murders of girls as young as twelve or thirteen. They died in torture, all because of him. Did he deserve to live after all of that?”

You keep silent. You feel a huge lump in your throat, and you can’t think of anything you could say. Tears of unhappiness and shock run down your cheeks. Obviously, the person you had to love was a serial killer, just like in the books.

“Did you...” You whisper out, trying to not let yourself sob. “...They... The rest... Louis, Fred... Moran... James... They all...?”

William puts his hand to the grating of the confessional as if he has forgotten that a wall separates you and he cannot wipe away your tears.

“They are all involved,” William confirms. “I want them to have a better world. I want them to... live in it, and be fulfilled in it. And the same I wish for you. Especially you.”

“...And what... what about you?” - You ask, catching a certain nostalgia in his voice. Nonetheless, you are already becoming well acquainted with William's tones, having spent a lot of time listening to every tone of his voice with relish.

“I don't know.”

Here he hesitates, for the first time in a long while since arriving at the church.

“But... Now, I know that I will do everything to make you live in this world,” he said. “Together with me.”

He got up from his kneeler and approached you. This time he doesn’t kneel but bows his head as he pulls a black box from the deep pocket of his coat. He opens it gently and on the velvet cushion shows an elegant, large ruby set into a silver ring. Its colour immediately makes you think of William's eyes.

Now that you stare at it, it reminds you of the colour of the blood.

“This ring is my being, my promises, my future,” he says, and the stone glows scarlet as if to confirm his words. “My name. If you accept it... I will consider that you accept me and my sins.”

You don’t immediately raise your hand. You would have done so just twenty minutes ago when you were still in the vehicle and you were happily lurching to William's side, resting your head on his shoulder. Now it isn’t just your maths teacher standing in front of you.

Now there is a Napoleon of Crime, one of the worst criminals in London. Your heart is awfully heavy, but you know that this is what a secret of such importance should weigh. It hadn't yet crossed your mind that by him sharing this secret, your choices were suddenly limited.

But you raise your hand nonetheless. It stops over the ring. You don’t know now whether the future you had been anticipating will actually be as beautiful as you have dreamed. By taking this ring, you were saying goodbye to your fantasies since you first learned of love.

The ruby is perfect for your finger; it slides in neatly and stays in place.

You tear up at this sight.

“Everything will be fine," William holds you against his chest. His hands continuously stroke your hair, slowly calming your sobs. It takes a long time though, but eventually the touch, his squat silhouette seemed to warm you up in this cold church. Yes, William's gestures were always warm, though his hands were usually cold. “I won't let anything bad happen to you. I will love you always,” and here his voice changed to a whisper. It sounds like a confession for the first time. “I beg you to remember that. Amen.”

CHAPTER IX

You have returned home. (You remember how warm you felt in William's embrace as the carriage wheels clattered against the cobbles on the way back to his estate).

William took his brothers with him to the study to discuss a matter relating to you. (You blushed at Moran’s whistling, having noticed the ring on your finger. Everyone congratulated you, but they didn't look surprised).

James handed you some cosmetics he'd bought in town. (Unrelated to the engagement, but they smelled divine).

You went to bed.

Breakfast, lunch, dinner.

You spent whole days at William's side. You didn't even make it back to university, although William continued to promise that you would be there again in the future.

...

It couldn't have been that long, could it?

Your book, “The Fruit of Infinity”, which you were so engrossed in, was last shelved in your dorm room... how long ago? When was the last time you even had the presence of mind to get a hold of a fictional world once more and get away from the present one? Too many things have been occupying your head.

The first was your wedding.

...

Huh.

When have you agreed to this? When did your parents have time to allow this? When did Louis have time to agree to this? The latter two would fight against the world if you had said anything about a relationship with William at the beginning of your acquaintance, just to keep you from getting married.

When did their resolve soften?

You aren’t going to talk them out of it. You know that everything that has happened to you so far was just a stroke of luck that you had accidentally come across. If only you have chosen a different class, a different major in college… Surely nothing has happened because of your non-existent romance skills.

(Although Moran did offer to teach you a little something if you wanted to flesh out your personality).

(William protested).

You don’t yet know how your life will play out from then on. Is William going to separate you from his plans for the London aristocracy? Keeping you completely unaware will be impossible and that’s why William has revealed his plans to you, but…

“Will's just worried about you,” James says, patting you on the shoulder. He listened intently to your worries, which you have been trying to keep to yourself lately; now that you know how much responsibility rests on the shoulders of everyone in the house, you don’t want to bother them with your silly problems. Bottling your feelings too quickly was breaking you from the inside, and James took you to the gardens as soon as he noticed your first insincere smile. (That's something you'll have to practice more). “The world in revolves is truly brutal. And you, my dear, are very fragile.”

“I don't want to be that fragile," you lowered your head with a slight pout.

“Oh, dearest!” James strokes your head again. You'd noticed that he is in the habit of fixing your hair and you like the childish joy of being cared for like that. “I'll take care of you, alright? Let's give William some more time to enjoy that rosy, adorable you at the wedding. And afterwards, we'll make you quite a weed to fend for yourself and know that people like Moran are low-key!”

You smile slightly. “...I bet you would be an excellent professor on that topic.”

He covers his mouth with his hands and looks at you with pride.

“Is that sarcasm, I hear?” he sighs with delight, taking you in one arm in his embrace. “My dear, I see progress, and in a very good direction.”

…

You guess you won’t mind a family like that.

…

The other thing that pulled you away from the books and the now all too fictional reality was this terrible fear.

Your life will change as soon as you marry William. It is inevitable and knowable, and normally the changes after the wedding are the ones people usually wait for.

You'll have a loved one by your side, plans for your life, and your dream romance with the antagonist (they always have something in them that the main characters lack)... And all of England chasing you.

News of Count Caretling's murder was everywhere. The information about his death is incomplete, always accompanied by a reference to a natural disease that no one had ever known about before. You don’t dare to ask William if he is responsible.

“Dearest,” he told you, sipping his tea. “You can still back out of everything. Just a word of promise that you will not reveal anything about our identity. Most likely, your brothers would force you to move deeper into Europe or to America—your whole family could go with you safely, I promise you. Would that be a more appealing solution?”

He said it quite neutrally. After that, you’ve been frustrated with William, especially as you slowly started to see the tension in the smile and the artificial indifference in those words.

You left his office genuinely angry.

And now you are on your way to America.

...

The theoretical road to America. Or some country in Europe. You haven’t decided yet.

...

You are on your way to travel the world then. With no luggage, no funds, no knowledge of parents, fiancé or friends. In a wedding dress, walking briskly across the seashore knowing there must be a port somewhere. Yes, you're prepared to travel the world.

Your watch indicated that your wedding ceremony would begin in fifteen minutes. You know there have been cases where brides had been far, far too late for their wedding, too engaged in preparing themselves for their special day. If no one has noticed that it's too quiet in your dressing room and they haven't kicked down the door or climbed through the window then you should still have some time.

You can feel your eyes burning, and it’s not because of the sun that shines down on you.

Why are you giving up on your dreams?

Your legs ache and your heart feet heavier with every step. The sand on the beach tries to pull you underground and some part of you wants to let yourself collapse.

You ran away from William James Moriarty because you feared for your life. And not only yours.

If someone stumbles across William's criminal trial and connects the dots to you—would you be able to lie to save your life? Is this more valuable than all those dead? Would you let yourself pretend to be an innocent maiden from a wealthy manor or betray them if you gave anyone a wrong impression? If you left this world in the name of William’s ideals, would your family be punished as well?

You always thought love would help you face anything until you landed in the current situation.

You aren’t able to admit it to William, although in your head you are putting together scenarios of your explanation should he decide to catch up with you.

When he decides to catch up with you.

He appears out of nowhere and you know it must have been due to someone following you. You feel silly with the thought when you thought you had been so clever and discreet in your escape. You have, after all, met Fred and Jack.

William is dressed in a wedding suit; completely black, elegant and unsuited to the beach. You don’t match it either, but as he stands next to you now, you know you suit each other. At least with the clothes.

“So you decided to quit, [Name].”

“...I don't want to put anyone at risk,” you say after a moment, but you struggle to get any words out under William's gaze, which isn’t warm anymore. What were you expecting? “And I also have a selfish reason. William, I won't be able to live a life like you. I— I want to help people, but I don't want to sacrifice my life! Nothing— I haven't achieved anything in my life yet!”

You can’t hold back the tears. They are pouring down your cheeks and you regret like never before in your life that emotions can sway you like that.

William is standing close enough for the hem of your dress to touch the fabric of his trousers, but he does not attempt to deepen the contact.

“My life is inseparable from the death of others,” he whispers, and because the beach is unusually quiet, you hear everything in his voice that you love so much. “You [Name], on the other hand... You remind me of life itself. You are full of it. You can't hide what you feel. You care about each person, and I care about the public well-being. You value everyone and I can’t do that.”

“…You know that's not true,” you say resolutely and with anger in your voice. “William, you put the whole world before yourself. You teach people and want to build things with your own hands. I'm the one who has this selfish desire to have you in every piece... This- I'm the one who messed it all up.”

“Then help me fix the world, if that’s what you want.”

His red eyes are piercing you deeply. Your body fills with a mixture of very different feelings, and William is now allowing you to release them all. You use them up to muster up the courage to say your vows.

“I want you to be mine. And me to be yours. So I can’t give you to the world.”

You grab him by his suit and jerk him towards you. Under the sudden force, he leans over and bumps into you.

You steal a kiss from him.

It stands apart from all the others you have ever shared with him (and those, however, were not too many (in reality. Not in imagination)). It is more violent than all the others because of the sudden desperation. 

And then William regains control. He lifts his head higher, just enough to keep your lips from parting, but now you have to exert some effort to reach him and stand on your toes. 

You have to make up for your running away.

And you can do so by giving your heart, soul and mind entirely to William.

In exchange, you can keep his life to yourself.

EPILOGUE

“Hmm~ So now it's Mrs Moriarty, no?”

You laugh with a fiery blush on your face at this remark.

You’ve been embarrassed since everyone turned towards the huge doors when the bride and groom were a good half hour late for their wedding. Their outfits were in the sand, the bride's make-up was smudged, the groom’s suit stretched, and they both walked down the aisle without any remorse, with a determined stride.

“You are already the subject of many rumours,” comments James, sitting next to William. He adds in a thinner voice and with exaggerated drama, “Such shortcomings in your outfits on your wedding day, they said. And yet they walked in with such superiority as if their tardiness was nothing, they said.”

“It wasn't too bad,” says Moran, disturbed that he can’t light a cigarette in the cab. He grins slightly in William's direction. “But I'm glad this wedding wasn't perfect! Now everyone, we have some top-tier teasing material on William!”

“Finally something he wasn’t a gentleman in," you say.

“The bride who tried to run away from her wedding was also at fault, I think,” William replies, not looking at you but squeezing your hand.

You squeezed it tighter. “A bride who had a very good reason to do so.”

“So the groom shouldn’t have been chasing her?”

“He should have. Now she finally has a purpose. I think the groom should beware of what a wonderful wife she will become.”

“He won’t mind, as his wife is already wonderful.”

Everyone listens to the exchange in silence, or maybe you don’t pay attention to anyone, completely lost in William who lets himself look at you and gets spellbound by you as well. 

Louis sighs, with some kind of relief.

“So brother has finally found his happiness, hm...~” tag: @elvyshiarieko

[monniemonniee]

prompt: "i called you last night... if it weren't for the sight of the boy who looked just like you."

(DRAFT HEHEHEH.)

updated: 12-03-23

_ _ _ _ _ _

James and Regulus broke up once Hogwarts has ended.

It wasn't that big of a deal.

Maybe.

After all, that's what they told themselves at first anyways.

That's what they felt they needed to hear, between themselves.

When everyone heard, the news shattered the group. Never had they expected the people shrouded in love, to suddenly lose it. Bouts of,

"Why?"

"What happened?"

"Both of you looked really happy, maybe... it was a misunderstanding?"

But Regulus preferred to not talk about it anymore, tired of being reminded a part of him no longer exists with the person he thought he'd live with and through. James had complied, too, sounding a little more depressed than needed.

It hurts. Looking at you hurts. I hope my eyes don't give it away.

"It was a matter of differences, really," Regulus said.

Letting go wasn't something I thought I'd see myself doing with you.

"We just... didn't... we didn't really see eye to eye anymore," James claimed.

At their break-up, they mutually decided to have some distance with each other. No phone calls, no texts, no hangouts, just anything that had nothing to do with each other.

Of course, everyone respected their wishes.

Although it was hard to find some middle ground that didn't have neither James nor Regulus in the same room, breathing the same proximity of air, not being able to see each other, all of them managed. Some days are wine parties with Regulus, and some other ones are beach trips with James.

In fact, Regulus was almost, almost ready to forgive, to forget forgive all those months of itching to find his name in his contacts get over it. Then, one day, it came out of nowhere.

"Why did you two break up?" The voice in Sirius' voice was stern.

"I know, it's been months... and you're supposed to be healing."

"... Yeah."

"But you can't fool me," His eyes darted to the Regulus' side of their room. One of which, Regulus was all too familiar with.

Sirius walked to the other side slowly, approaching the white wooden closet, a clandestine hideaway that Regulus kept to himself all those months.

It was one of the only things he didn't throw away that came from him. Shamelessly, it was also one of the things that reeked too much of James himself, not mentioning their carved initials within a clunky heart.

"J.P+ R.B"

"N-No wait! Sirius don't touch that p-please I--"

His heart sank.

I tried not it give away. I tried not to give you away. I don't want to give you away. Please, please, please, please.

Sirius hastily pulled the metal bar,

Regulus merely looked at him, a meek look on face. He looked far into the distance, the window

[i-want-the-shovel]

Vegetarianism

I was a vegetarian for four years. I had the idealistic notion that I didn't want my food choices to contribute to world hunger, environmental degradation, or the corporatization of America. I wanted to do what I could to consume only my share of the resources and respect all forms of life as much as possible. The issue became more complicated with the corporatization of organics and the health food industry. The soy veggie burgers I once viewed as a guilt free meat alternative suddenly became another money making product in the ever expanding vegetarian market. The highly processed burger was made with soybeans, which no longer seemed like a health food, but rather a likely genetically modified crop that was quickly becoming one of America's most widespread monocultures. But that's a sidebar. My reasons for eating meat come from a very different place. There is one event that sticks out in my head as a turning point.

At the soup kitchen I worked at, we frequently had volunteers come in to cook meals. One such volunteer was named James. He was a middle aged man of Mexican descent who spoke English well, but with a heavy accent. He was volunteering at the soup kitchen because he was required to do so to maintain eligibility for his food stamps. I hadn't yet decided what to cook for lunch when James arrived, but I had ground pork thawing. I wasn't much in the cooking mood, but it was my lucky day. James loved to cook and was unintimidated to cook for forty, a rare find in a temporary volunteer like James. So James set off to work, appearing very comfortable in the kitchen. He told me he was going to make a pork red chile. It was his daughter's favorite. He was doing this all for his daughter, you know. If it weren't for her, he said, he wouldn't care so much about getting food stamps. In fact, he wouldn't care so much about anything. He'd probably just be off drinking somewhere, not caring if tomorrow came or not. But because of his daughter, he was there, working to get his food stamps. As he browned the meat, he shared with me some of the secrets of Mexican cooking, proud to share with a gringa such as myself. I complimented him throughout the process, as the food looked and smelled delicious.

About half an hour before lunch was to be served, James proudly handed m a bowl of his red chile. I would be the first to sample his masterpiece. I had an awkward moment, similar to many I'd had before. "Actually, I don't eat meat. I'm a vegetarian," I said quietly, looking down. When I looked up at James, his expression was one of confused embarrassment, with a little shame. I myself was ashamed that I had caused that look. He asked me to just try a bite, and again I refused, unsure of how my stomach would react. I felt uncomfortable and awkward and as the day went on, I began to feel more and more ashamed of what I'd done. I don't know when my vegetarianism suddenly became more important than human dignity. I swore it would never happen, but it did. Suddenly, vegetarianism was no longer a noble way of life, but rather a pretentious dietary choice.

I spent the next month or two thinking about that event and other similar events. How many authentic Mexican meals had I missed because of my refusal to eat meat? In theory, food and sharing meals are important to me as a cultural event. My family always ate dinner together and there is something about eating with people that is very special. But for the past year at the soup kitchen, when I was eating with people, I was sitting down with a plate of salad or a canned vegetable. It was never a complete meal. Somehow I felt if I wasn't eating the main dish, I wasn't really eating with people. Often people would comment on the lack of meat on my plate and I would attempt to explain why I was a vegetarian. It was a foreign concept to so many people and if they asked me to explain my reasoning, I often felt snobby trying to explain my concern about consuming too many of the world's resources to someone who had so few resources to start. How lucky I was to even have that concern.

I also began to think about how I love cooking for people. There is nothing like preparing a meal for people and sitting down and eating it with them. Not to be vain, but I love the compliments I get after cooking a good meal. I thought of all the times a soup kitchen guest had cooked an amazing meal and I had turned down a taste. I do not pretend to think my praise of a meal could mean that much to someone, but if eating the meal could instill a bit of pride in someone who was really down and out, wouldn't it be worth it?

The first meat I hate was a barbeque sandwich. Yes, my stomach hurt, but it was worth it. At first, I didn't always like swallowing huge chunks of meat, but gradually it grew on me. It was a slippery slope, and soon I was eating whatever meat I could get my hands on. Whether this is a good thing or not, I do not know. But now I can say I've eaten elk, deer, buffalo, red chile, green chile, and tons of other authentic southwestern cuisine I never would have tried had I remained a vegetarian.

My dietary choices extended beyond meat. I wanted to drink Coke and eat at Sonic. That's what normal people do. Sure, I could keep eating my fruits and veggies, but who doesn't love a good slice of fried bologna now and again?

But when I think about it, I don't want to but that stuff in my body. I don't want all the salt and strange animal parts that come in a piece of bologna. If I'm going to eat an animal, I want to understand exactly how it was an animal, that it lived a good animal life, and that I knew what part I was eating. I don't want to drink high fructose corn syrup and artificial colors in Coke. I don't want to eat a McDonald's cheeseburger, I really don't. But how do I make this all fit together? Can I be in solidarity with a poor American when I refuse to eat the same food as them? It is my position to educate someone about how they should prioritize and maybe give up their cell phone or cable tv so they can buy local, organic produce? Should I tell them how their kids will probably be overweight and diabetic by the time they are twenty because of all the Mountain Dew they are drinking? Should I accept this is the culture of poor America and move on? Am I being judgmental and closeminded, thinking poor people don't value health the way I do? I just don't know.

[travelingue]

North Sea Scotland (4): Perth

The previous entry ended with our departure from Dundee, which was ugly and wet.

Perth, a short drive away, was just wet.  The rain eased, revealing the beauty of this old royal burgh.

It occupies a choice spot on the River Tay where it is both easy to cross and tidal, allowing ships to moor.

This, an information panel revealed, made the city a trade hub in the Middle Ages. It was also designated as a "craftis toun" because of its top-quality products.

Glovers, we learned, were the most influential guild in medieval Perth.  The industry naturally attracted tanners.  The panel included a depiction of their quarter circa 1440:

Leather-making apparently involved soaking hides into a mix of urine and dogs' faeces. 

This, I thought, provided interesting historical background to the Spinal Tap album Smell the Glove.

The oldest house in Perth is said to be "Fair Maid's House".  But the inscription "1393"was suspiciously legible.

The plaque said the habitation drew its name from Sir Walter Scott's novel The Fair Maid of Perth - which was published in 1828!

In short the house looked to me as medieval as Deep Purple's Book of Taliesyn album (I don't know why walking in Perth put vintage rock into my head.)

But if you're into faux medieval, nothing beats the real thing: Victorian arts-and-crafts architecture.

Perth has plenty of wonderful specimens.  Many, I noted, have been taken over by the food-and-drink industry.

The above buildings – all from the 1890s – now house Perth's Pizza Express (left), an Indian restaurant (centre) and a pub (right).

The river front is lined with glorious Gothic-revival erections.

The County Buildings (1881, above) initially a natural history museum is now, predictably, a fancy eatery.

My favourite building is the 1840s police HQ (below).

Carved into these stern stones is the inscription: "This house hates knaves, crimes punisheth, preserves the laws and good men honoureth."

Contrast that with the "transformative vision" for Scottish justice set out in 2022 "with a focus on creating safer communities and shifting societal attitudes and circumstances which perpetuate crime and harm".

The Tay, the longest river in Scotland, can be fierce in Perth. In days of old, a panel explained, people dealt with flooding by demolishing damaged structures and building new ones on top until the ground was raised to a safe level.

The above picture was taken from a spot where Perth Castle once stood. It was washed away in 1209.

It was not the last traumatic event to occur at this site.  Dominicans built a monastery on the ruins of the castle. Two centuries later, James I of Scotland died there in unusual circumstances.

James had a habit of dealing ruthlessly with rivals.  But what did for him was not so much his love of power as his love of tennis.   In 1436, he decided to spend Christmas at the monastery.  It had great traveller reviews, as well as an indoor court where he could practice his favourite sport.

Knowing plotters were after him, James familiarised himself with escape routes before settling down for a nice extended holiday.  But there was a problem with the tennis: his balls kept falling down a drain pipe.

The king got so frustrated that he ordered the drain to be blocked.  Three days later his enemies reached the monastery.  He disappeared down a hatch.  The tunnel, however, led to the drain that had been filled with stone.  He was swiftly slaughtered by his pursuers.

Fast forward 122 years.  As a previous post explained, mid-16th century Scotland was ruled by Catholics but ripe for Protestantism.  Knowing which way the wind was blowing, the Calvinist preacher John Knox returned home after 11 years in exile.

In May 1559 he headed to Perth and commandeered St John's Kirk (top image).

From a pulpit surrounded by the paraphernalia of Popish superstition (relics, stained glass windows, painted walls, etc.), Knox inveighed against idolatry.  Whipped into an iconoclastic frenzy, the crowd trashed the church.

The crowds then headed for the Dominican priory and ransacked it.  Perth's three other monasteries – as well all 40 altars in the city - were destroyed in two days of rioting.  Knox went on to repeat the feat at St Andrews cathedral 50 miles away. The Scottish Church fell like a house of cards.

Perth these days is endearingly unthreatening.  During our wanderings we came across a parade.  A crowd cheered as bagpipe players in kilts, aldermen in suits, Scots Guards in Jeeps and Star Warriors in costumes filed past.

Towards the end a brass band played the vintage hit Gimme Some Lovin'.

[throped]

Never Glory - Chapter 7

Tom Riddle x reader

TW: blood, gore, death and all that stuff

Class soon ended and quickly scurried out because it wasn't my intention to be late to my next class. Plus, I had a lot of studying to do. You see, when it comes to studying, I am definitely not the smartest person in the muggle world. I absolutely despise tests, I can handle assignments though. The only fact that I know a lot is because I'm like centuries old. I had to spend my time somewhere, didn't I? Other than Hogwarts which I loved, I did unfortunately go to a muggle school in my lifetime. Let's just say that I hated muggle schools with a burning passion. We got taught math, science, English, arts, extra languages, PE and health, and History (which I quite enjoyed). I liked math and it wasn't bad. Also English, that was quite nice along with the extra language that I learnt which was Spanish, lovely language really. 

Arts had different parts. There was visual, drama, music and dance. My heart was with visual arts but I hated music, I DESPISED it. They have A, B, C, D, E, F. Of course, I always aimed for the A's but I ended up with a few B's and some C's too. Music was impossible. I hated the theory work and I had absolutely no finger coordination. Let's just say that I desperately needed help with playing the piano. It was no doubt that I got a C for that class. (you can change your subject preferences if you like :))

I huffed and pushed the door open once I reached my dorm. I did run into Molly and Lily on the way though and they did say that we could hang out in our free period after the following class. I quickly grabbed my books needed for the next subject: transfiguration. I have a feeling that Riddle doesn't like me. The way he said 'quite the impressive answer', was nice to his extent but he did seem to despise me a little. Almost as if he was jealous or annoyed by my presence. I couldn't work out which one though. I decided to stop thinking about Riddle right after I entered the class because somebody could be using legilimency at any time of the day, although, I do suspect that that's not the case since there are quite a few dimwitted morons here.

Transfiguration was a good subject since I had this one with Lily and Molly so I didn't need to worry about which idiot would sit next to me, or if I had an idiot sitting next to me at all. As I walked in 5 minutes early. I saw Riddle already there, sitting in the middle seats, not too far back, neither too close to the front. I took a glance towards Lily and waved at her before going to sit next to her. "Hey Lily, how's your day been," I asked as I sat down next to her. I could tell that she was quite disappointed on me being a Slytherin but I suppose she's gotten over it. She doesn't believe the, 'everyone in Slytherin is going to go bad somebody'. I mean, that's sort of true. I wouldn't consider myself evil.... yet at least. But nonetheless, we've decided to be on first name basis since she thinks that it's 'friendly' to do so. 

"Oh good morning Daena! My day has been quite nice besides the constant bickering between James and Severus," she replied with, while writing some notes down. I wondered who Severus was since I hadn't met him yet. 

"Oh, that is definitely not the most pleasant experience," I joked. "But if you don't mind me asking, who's Severus?" I added.

"Right sorry, I forgot to introduce him to you," Lily laughed. "Severus Snape is a Slytherin and a target for James to bully. I despise James for doing it but whenever I bring it up, he just seems to torment me about why I'm friends with Severus," she sadly stated. To be honest, I wasn't that fond of James Potter, and he did seem like quite the bully to me.

"Well, if you hate what James does that much, then I can always crucio him for you," I stated, while grabbing everything out of my satchel. 

"Daena, you're funny. But no, please don't do that," she said. She thought I was joking. Now that's funny. I hummed in response and continued to get my quill set. Well, James and her were friends but it's not right to bully somebody for the fun of it. I have my morals too.

"Oh look, here Severus comes. He typically sits near Riddle's group though, that's the only time that James doesn't bother him, I suspect that James is scared of Riddle. I mean, who isn't? And that's also why I don't particularly approach him," Lily said as I peered at the person who just entered. He was quite pale and had jet black hair that was neatly brushed behind his ears. He seemed to be the quiet type so why would James bully him? There were still a few minutes before the professor would arrive so I had enough time to get adjusted and take note of who came in and out.

Just as my trance finished, another voice rang out. "Oh look who it is! Snivellus Snape!" 

I could tell it was Potter. When I turned my back around, I was indeed right. He was standing there with Lupin, Pettigrew and Black. I knew the Black family had traditions for being in Slytherin so a thought did cross my mind as to why he was in Gryffindor. 

As Severus stood there with a slight frown on his face, I realized that no one would help him. Lily couldn't help since she was friends with both of them, but I think her love for Potter blinded herself from seeing the bad things he does. Since we had a few minutes left and I had already set up, I calmly stood up as to not cause a scene.

"You can't speak to him like that Potter," I mentioned as I stood up. "L/N, seriously. Can't you see we're just having a little fun?" Potter replied as he looked Severus up and down. 

"Well, you guys can go have your 'fun' elsewhere," I said while making imaginary quotation marks. "Stop bothering him or I'll have all four of your heads hanging in my dorm," I stated as I looked at the so called 'mauderers'. 

"Oh no, Daena is going to kill us! What are we going to do now?" Potter said, sarcasm laced on his voice as he pretended to faint into the three other boys. I scoffed and rolled my eyes.  "They're not worth your time Daena," Lily said as she pulled me away. 

I then walked towards Severus. "Hello Severus. Lily told me all about you," I smiled. "I'm Daena L/N, pleasure to meet you. It's not right how they treat you and I just wanted to tell you that," I added, a grin forming on my face right after.

"Nice to meet you too Daena. I suppose you already know my name and I can see you're good friends with Lily," he stated. Just by his glance towards Lily, I could see that he dearly loved her. They'd probably been friends since the start of first year which I sadly did not get to experience.

"Yeah, we're great friends although we've barely known each other for two days," I said, while chuckling a little at the sound of what I had just said.

I had a friend. And it was quite nice. I actually had multiple friends. Lily, Molly, Emma, Septima, and now maybe even Severus. But definitely not Riddle. I sensed that he was either jealous or annoyed with my presence. But I couldn't figure out which one.

Little did I know that it was neither what I had just predicted. His eyes showed not jealousy,  Not annoyance, But love.

It is just that neither of them knew it yet.

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

Anddd that's a wrap! I will start to post a little more consistently now! Also, sorry about the limited interactions with Riddle. But I promise, that there will be more. This was just a chapter to get everyone well introduced and your opinions on everyone. Also, in the next chapter, you'll be joining the Sl- wait I can't say anything else or I'll ruin it lmao. Anyways, bye, see you next chapter!

[dbseamz]

Hello and happy friday! Today I ask this: what’s your all time favorite pokemon episode(s)? Episodes you could watch- or have watched- time and time again, never getting old? And if you wish to talk about it, why is it your favorite?

Indigo League e16 "Pokémon Shipwreck".

-In the middle of a multi-episode arc so no one can complain about "filler"

-A neat little easter egg with the police boat's name being "PM16" (Pocket Monsters [episode] 16)

-Jenny knowing only the first names of the people still on board inspired me to come up with a fanfic about how she found out who hadn't escaped and why she didn't know their last names (as far as I know Jessie doesn't have one, but the other four do). The fic's currently still in brainstorming mode, but I hope to write it soonish.

-The presence of real fish provides evidence towards my theory that non-pkmn animals do/did exist in the pokéworld, but competition and predation from pkmn made them rare. Foodstuffs like the lobster seen in this episode and the fried chicken and ice cream discussed in "Go West Young Meowth" come from farms where animals that humans use for food are kept hidden and guarded to stop wild pkmn from eating the livestock. Trainers don't have any reason to visit such farms, so Ash and the game protags, and thus the audience, don't see them.

-That dream sequence with James's perfect tan.

-Multiple underwater scenes to satisfy my Fish Brain. (Can anyone relate?)

-Misty stepping up and being the voice of reason and common sense, which fits because she's kind of literally "in her element".

-THAT PART WHERE JAMES TAKES JESSIE'S HANDS AND CALLS HER "JESSICA" WHILE LOOKING AT HER SO TENDERLY AAA

-The irony of such a major "shipping" hint happening in an episode centered around and titled after a shipwreck

-The "twerps" actually do care about TR in this episode, you just have to listen carefully. James said "A water Pokémon?" when Misty described her escape plan, but neither he nor his teammates mentioned that they didn't have any (useful) ones until after Misty and the boys had left. Then the next time we see Ash, he's worrying aloud about whether his nemeses have made it out of the ship. And he outright says that TR don't deserve to die.

-Of course, that doesn't mean Pikachu has to be happy about sharing a raft with them. His little "darn it" finger snap makes me chuckle every time.

-The scene where they're asleep on the raft; Jessie and James all cuddled together and Meowth doing a loaf pose like a real cat

-"You KICK Magikarp? You kick her body like the football? Oh! Oh! Master shall witness the wrath of a Gyarados! Dragon Rage for master!"

-They somehow manage to conjure paddles from thin air but the universe decided to only let them conjure four paddles for five people so James is just scooping with his hand instead

-"Don't let go!" *everyone immediately lets go*

[ravenekrops]

you know what. i'm not writing all of these in the tags

i absolutely LOVE researching lore-appropiate names for my OCs, it's a very important step of their development in my creation process :3 even tho after writing this list it seems i don't do it often enough... whoops 😑

in no particular order! let's see if i can remember them all... same color means same universe btw!

Larial Black (Undertale): Arial Black like the font but with an L at the front for that tiny sprinkle of originality (yes she's a skeleton yes she's the skelebros' elder sister yes i was a kid yes i was cringe AND free mind you 🙄)

Agnes Black: originally a gijinka of Horrortale!Larial Black, her surname retains its original meaning (aka nothing special or specific). can't remember why i chose Agnes as her name (there was some (ugh 🙄) religious meaning behind it but it's been long forgotten). but i gotta admit, her name meaning "chaste" and her ending up being aroace WAS a good coincidence so i'll just pretend i did that on purpose lol. also i just looove the word. Agnes... <3

Lisabel Black: Horrortale!Larial Black gijinka 2.0! now more bloodthirsty than ever! i liked the name Isabel but i thought it'd be a bit plain so i added the L at the front for that- you know the drill (but also to retain even more of her original character-ness)

Ryan "Jackal" Drake: 100% unabashed coolness factor (i WAS a kid for this one too, gimme a break!). in-universe explanation is that it's his stage name he chose when he decided to do crime after he arrived at the US

Eric O'Shea: Eric means "ever ruler" in Old Norse which is kind of true for the part he plays in his story, O'Shea is Irish (he's Irish) and also sounds like "ocean" and "sea" a bit. he comes from a family of fishermen. also i just like how it sounds :>

Léan O'Shea: pronounced Liam because i said so (idk how it's actually pronounced sorryyy). Irish name for an Irish child (even if she's adopted)

Luma/Heather (Undertale): "pluma" without the p. "feather" with an h. you can guess what type of anthro/furry she is lol

Vreytus: literally scrambled words together until they made sense phonetically. i wanted it to sound alien and mysterious. i probably have the original words i corrupted to get his name written somewhere but i am not looking it up -.-

Lee: ohhhhhh this is a fun one :3 when i first started doodling him i called him "long limbed guy", then "limbed" which shortened to "Lee" (yes i know that the "li-" from "limb" is pronounced with a shorter sound but i'm not a native speaker so idrc :p). later on i decided his full name would be Leroy but it's a "only using the full name when they're in trouble" kinda case (also it makes the long "ee" sound make sense now! whammo!)

Voirds: void + birds

Voirdity: void + bird + deity (🤯)

Rask'r (TESV): pronounced "raskur". argonian name generator

Raz: humanization of Rask'r, which also happens to be a real name. lucky me! seriously tho, it means "secret" in Hebrew. it's related to his backstory

Eva: short for Evangeline. Raz's most trusted friend

Mask (Undertale): self explanatory

Fangbeak (fursona (lol)): fang + beak (i know, mindboggling this one)

Diego (Pokémon): good sounding Spanish name for my favorite Paldean-residing-in-Unova boy :>

Donovan: from Old Irish "brown" and "dark". guess his hair color lol. okay i also wanted something that sounded old and uncommon since he's from the 1700s

Charles "Chad" Kevin Reeve (Half Life): honestly i just wanted an excuse to have a character named Chad lol. Reeve is Old English for "sheriff" or "local official" which fits his character as a bossy soldier. don't ask about the middle name, i have no idea

Lewis James Barnett (Half Life): honestly even after rechecking their meanings i got nothing for this one, chief. it made sense at the time... probably. something about famous scientists maybe? don't ask about the middle name, i have no idea either

Bug: simple nickname given by the scientists that captured it that just. stuck along lol

honorary mentions go to these unnamed but existing OCs:

Bovine dad (Undertale): there's... not much to him. sorry :1

Revenant Prince: the "protagonist" of an original D&D setting i still hope to finish some day :(

Human: Vreytus' partner, and the first human he properly meets after he finds his identity. the human shows him how humans live and also teaches him about relationships and connection

Why is your OC named what they're named? Is there a different reason in-universe than out-of-universe?

[lyriquette]

Old AU descriptions from the Frosen Steel server - 1/22/2021

CINDER SANDIEGOOOOO.

lilac — 01/22/2021 10:41 PM

thinking about alternate names and running across a super old reference, instead of finding salem, cinder discovers a fictional book about a world-traveling thief stealing all the landmarks and decides this will be how she tells the society that made her where to stick it

where in remnant is cinder sandiegooooo

imsorry

....omg cinder is discovered by penny stealing the staff of creation. as soon as she does...

Cinder: WHY IS EVERYTHING SHAKING?

Penny: What did you do?!

Cinder: I didn't do anything!

Penny: You must've done something!

Cinder: I just stole a staff from over there?!

Penny: Put it back!

Everyone in Atlas gets a good scare from that event.

Penny and Cinder somehow exchange scroll addresses? numbers? Cinder discovers how much havoc she caused to the people she hates.

Cinder: Maybe I should do it again?

Penny: NO

----------

lilac — 01/22/2021 11:17 PM

-throws a spanner into Ironwood's plans for the Vytal Festival by stealing Amity Colosseum.-

Everyone in Beacon is watching Amity Colosseum miss the landing site and continue to float away towards Beacon Academy.

Ozpin: I know you like making a show, but the landing area is that way, James.

Ironwood: ...

Everyone's scrolls start beeping.

Ozpin and Ironwood watch the sudden broadcast from the scrolls. Cinder's on a comfortable swivel chair that Ironwood recognizes as his in the middle of the control room.

Cinder: I, Cinder Sandiego, have stolen away Amity Colosseum. Until Atlas learns the true meaning of unity and stop its abhorent treatment on the people of Mantle and support of the Schnee Dust Company, I will keep thi-

Amity Colosseum bonks into the top of the CCT Tower, smashing through Ozpin's office and other important things.

Torchwick, from outside the camera: Stop broadcasting yourself and watch where we're going!!

Neo: -photobombs the broadcast with a peace sign.-

Mercury and Emerald: ...this is our leader.

------

lilac — 01/23/2021 8:52 AM

Hostage Negotiations.

Cinder, showing a roughly-handled yelling Jacques Schnee on camera: I have kidnapped your head of house and demand a ransom o-

Whitley: So that's why the mansion felt less smug these past few days.

Weiss: You can keep him.

Winter: We don't want him back.

Cinder, blinks: Uhh...

Cinder, light bulb: So....how much money would you pay to have him stay kidnapped?

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