#I feel like I lad that can’t be left unattended

[singedbutter]

.

[funky-boat-zone]

since today is one of many possible dates that technically qualify as thomas’ birthday, i’m gonna liveblog magical birthday wishes. yes, i’m a year late, no i don’t really care.

thomas and the ants:

- ah yes, my favorite location on sodor, blank white void

- just gonna say this real quick: i love rob rackstraw’s voice for james. however, they have him doing literally every male character except thomas’ voice, and he can’t make percy sound young/endearing to save his life. percy sounds more like a woefully uneducated gremlin than childlike young lad, and that’s terrible. - those are some freakishly large ants, percy should be more concerned with that tbh - they’re bringing back the gold dust? weird, considering how the cgi era basically tried erasing tatmr out of canon (except diesel 10) - i do not like that thomas can jump now.

thomas and the balloons:

- thomas has absolute power over reality itself and can wish to alter it just by willing such, why is nobody talking about how terrifying this is? - they’re making engines transport fully inflated, helium-filled balloons again? have we learned nothing from the impracticality of “up, up, and away”? - how is he grabbing the balloons. how did he tie them to his buffers. - also imagine what his poor crew would be thinking if they were in this, imagine just trying to work and your engine just starts casually altering reality and decides to fly 20 feet off the ground. i’d quit on the spot

too many thomases:

- does every engine get magical wishes on their birthday or is it just thomas? - who the fuck is making nia do a job meant for ten engines by herself on a time limit?  - how to instantly simultaneously fix this short and also make it a million times worse: make all the clones different incarnations of thomas (ie. rws, model era, hit era).

thomas the submarine:

- cranky’s voice makes him sound like a chain smoker.  - actually, a tank engine can go underwater. they shouldn’t, but they can. - y’know what would’ve been kinda fun (and more marketable)? if thomas actually turned into a submarine/helicopter/whatever instead of just getting his funnel modified.  - how is he propelling himself without a rudder. how can he talk to fish now. can submarines talk to fish in the ttte universe.

super bubble thomas:

- finally, a short with james. james is the only character in these shorts that rackstraw regularly voices, but even his james performance sounds kinda strained? i don’t blame him for sounding kind of off though, because they made him voice literally every male character except thomas i can’t get over how ridiculous that it when it’s clear that he doesn’t have the range for some of these characters - why is it james’ job to clean the station when he doesn’t even have any visible cleaning supplies? at least give the man a sponge or sth - i get that the message is “helping friends good :)” but thomas you’re allowed to wish for something for yourself. my dude you can find another engine to help your friends, you don’t have to solve literally all their problems with wishes you only get once a year. 

thomas and the monkeys:

- “maybe they’ll follow a banana” thomas. are you gonna turn yourself into a banana. don’t do that  - oh thank god, he just turned invisible - thomas, you didn’t actually get the monkeys back in their enclosure. they could climb back out and leave at any time.

thomas the giant:

- “he could be anywhere, we’ll never find him” maybe check the other side of the hill first?  - thomas, you could just shoot up a flare or something. you didn’t have to potentially put henrietta in danger of being crushed. - i was right, toby was on the other side of the hill. this whole short could’ve been skipped if they just looked on the other side. 

thomas the helicopter:

- what happened to my boy’s voice. - harold looks suspiciously pristine for a helicopter who presumably broke down mid-flight.. maybe he heard about the birthday wishes from everyone else and is exploiting this to make thomas do his jobs for him. - according to all laws of aviation there is no way that thomas- (dissolves instantly) - finally, humans! where have they been all this time?

thomas the rescue engine

- thomas ffs a bakery is on fire and all you can think about is if it’s your cake? you can’t even eat cake - where did all the gravel come from? - thomas you forgot to put out half the fire? this is “fiery flynn” all over again

thomas and the lighthouse:

- who left skiff undocked while he’s in the ocean? he’s gonna drift out to sea - speaking of skiff, he sounds like an adult doing a deliberately annoying impression of a child - “thomas fucking blinds skiff and other stories”

thomas full speed ahead:

- the more thomas talks about how many wishes he’s used and how he only wants to use them to help people, the more it sounds like he’s lying to himself. thomas. you’re being dumb as hell in these shorts but you deserve to have something for yourself just this once, it’s your birthday - i don’t know whether to be surprised that they actually remembered and referenced “thomas and gordon” or to be annoyed at the context in which it’s being referenced. - just because keith wickham was pretty good as james’ va doesn’t mean that rob rackstraw is good at being gordon’s va - are you telling me gordon broke down and decided to sleep instead of trying to call for help or have one of his passengers get help? - i can’t imagine how motion-sick those poor passengers must feel.

thomas the rubber band:

- where’s sir topham hatt been all this time? topham please save us from this alternate universe of chaos and despair - “a wall could hurt him” i mean, gordon also crashed face-first into a station wall once and he was relatively fine.. - the image of thomas being stretched out is one of the worst images from licensed material that i’ve ever seen.

thomas the elephant:

- this is it. this is the one. quite fitting that the most cursed short of them all is the thirteenth in the sequence. - emily’s scottish accent is cute, i hate that i’m hearing it in this context though. - that being said, twitter has already made all the jokes and invoked all the horror i possibly could, so i have nothing more to say on this short tbh

thomas & the birthday surprise:

- it’s the end. we laughed, we cried, we yelled at thomas for being dumb. i watched all 14 of these in one sitting and i will never be the same again. - fun fact: aside from nia and thomas’ voice actors staying the same, this whole set of shorts only had 2 people voicing all the characters. - you could just watch this short and ignore all the shorts before it. this one’s not great by any means, but it raises the fewest questions out of all of them. - except for how thomas and friends are gonna eat that cake. i imagine their crews just yeeting it into their fireboxes. - the moral of the story is that thomas needs to establish some boundaries, cranky needs to quit smoking, gordon is lazy, sir topham hatt is terrible at assigning jobs and has no idea what’s going on with his railway, captain joe shouldn’t leave skiff unattended, and percy is a fool.

[edgythought]

Strangers in the Bar I

Part II  |  Part III

Alex Turner x OC (I guess??)

Description: Two lonely people observe each other in a bar. It leads to something nice. Word count: 2,294

Warning: swearing, alcohol consumption, smoking.

A/N: It is not my first fanfic, but the first one I post here. Hope y'all enjoy and leave me some comments! This was written in April-May 2019, when I was strongly fascinated with Alex, but I can't say I thought about him while writing, so it's not really a fanfiction piece. Anyway, it's up to you to decide how to interpret this. I would love to receive feedback! Thank you for reading :)  

Part I

Sunny Los Angeles in the middle of spring was an oasis of happiness, just as I thought it would be, no disappointment here. A whirlwind of events brought me here somehow and I am not mad at all. I always thought I am a New York kinda girl, strolling through the parks and skyscrapers, sipping my shit-load-of-spice latte, day (and night-) dreaming. You know, all the Great Gatsby vibes as well, but I am not into loud sounds unless I am at some concert dancing my lower back off.

My friends, who live in LA, gave a nice tour of the city and at the end of the day I am finding myself totally drained physically at the bar in the middle of nowhere (LA area). We had some cocktails with lads and even danced to a couple of extra popular Dua Lipa’s songs and a numerous amount of hispanic hits. It was great. Gals were tired, just as I was, so they went home, assuring me my hotel is 10 blocks away and an Uber would be totally affordable. Not that I am poor or something, but I always was cautious with money and my friends know I might come off as a cheapskate from time to time. So I felt fine to stay a little bit more and contemplate the infamous LA nightlife with my own eyes. Even if it’s only one bar of hundreds and not even the fanciest one.

It was over an hour since my friends left me and I was on my third Brandy Alexander when a strange man caught my attention. Moonage Daydream by a genius Bowie was playing extra loudly and he was moving his hips and lip-syncing so theatrically I couldn’t force myself to stop watching him. He was so into the music he never actually noticed he was looked at by everyone in the bar. A bartender who I cracked a couple of jokes with had a little smile on his face watching the dude and I asked “What? You like him?”. The reply I got shook me to the core: “Everyone likes him, although he is not very talkative. Nothing wrong with a dude fancying to dance a little, right?”. I turned a bit to acquire a better view on the dance floor; (the bartender’s remark made me actually watch the guy enjoying himself). He looked stunning, to be honest, but also weird, in a positive way. Long, slightly curly hair was always in his eyes, so he had to shake his head pretty often. White shirt, half-unbuttoned, gold chain, a couple of rings. He looked like a high (-profile) rockstar. (Exactly what I expected to see, but haven’t yet) His pants were really tight, though…

He was definitely interesting to pay attention to, but the song ended and I found myself staring a little too hard at the dude, so I thought it would be nice to chill a bit outside. I waved at the bartender that I will go out, took my glass and strolled through the crowd to the exit. Californian twilight was full of smells and sounds, with people chattering, cars beeping, birds singing their mysterious tunes, everything coming together with the smell of warm concrete, cigarettes and different spirits. I lit my cigarette and took a deep breath, watching the sky change colours from light bubblegum pink to pastel turquoise and dark blue, with some stars peeking through a light dim of clouds on my right. There was something about it that made me feel lighter a bit, free from the burdens of my everyday life. The contrast of the sky and dark silhouettes of trees and buildings reminded me I am not actually alone. I took another deep breath, inhaling the smoke, and hold it for a couple of seconds. I exhaled and watched the smoke twirl in front of my face. It always fascinated me how such a deadly thing can also be so beautiful. Just like love. I brushed those thoughts off of my mind, that’s not a way to have a good time. Actually, I was quite in the mood to show off some moves on the dance floor if the music fits. I am not really into hispanic tunes, just not my cup of tea. I threw away the butt and finished my drink in one go. I have nothing to lose, right?…

As I returned to the bar, I looked for the dancing dude in the crowd but he was nowhere to be found. Sad, I thought to myself, we could have had a really nice mute dance together. Anyway, I needed another drink to become a part of the dancing people, so I went straight to the bar. “Mind pouring me another one, darling?”, I asked my bartender as he was washing some shakers and spoons. “I don’t mind at all, what do you want?” - “The dancing juice you gave that guy in a very tight jeans” - “Gotcha, sweetheart” he chuckled and strolled away to the small freezer at the back. My heart was heavy and my breath trembled a bit. It’s always like that when I know I am about to do some stupid shit and then regret it the morning after. Even though I knew, I never stopped myself from doing it because it’s fun, right? At this point I just wanted to lift off the weight of my life off my shoulders and have fun, whatever it means, really. 

The Bartender (why I never asked for his name? He looks like Josh to me…) came back with several bottles in his hands. “Hey, I guessed you want to dance, so I decided to help you not only by getting you drunk” - “Yeah? What are you going to do?” - “I already did, next song is for you”, he smiled and winked at me. I laughed and turned around to check if the dancing guy appeared, while I wait for the Bartender to fuel me with whatever he mixed. After torturous couple of seconds I saw the dude come out the restroom, hand running through his hair in a desperate attempt to make it not stick to his sweaty forehead. I wanted him present when I dance because I felt something while watching him being bonkers on the dance floor and it gave me some confidence to try it myself.  He proceeded through the crowd to the bar and gestured the Bartender to come over. As I already was sipping on my “dancing juice” I started to feel the urge to do something, not to stay on my stool and right then I heard a starting riff of the song the Bartender put on for me.  I knew the song, I used to listen to it a lot when I was younger, during my first year at Uni. Oh so many memories, so many parties… I sip the drink once more and put it a little too hard on the bar, then take off my jacket and leave on the stool I was occupying. The riffs were becoming louder and the dancing dude was smiling. What was he smiling at?

I was already on the dance floor, waving my head like a heroin-infused Mick Jagger look-alike.

Stop making the eyes at me I’ll stop making my eyes at you

I catch myself looking right at the dancing dude, like I am talking to him. His eyes widened and he raised his eyebrows a bit, surprised with attention.

And what it is that surprises me Is that I don't really want you to

I winked at him and turned around to stroll through a sheer dancing crowd a little further from him and closer to my stuff I left unattended. (I shouldn’t have to worry though, the Bartender was looking after it for me)

And your shoulders are frozen (cold as the night) Oh but you're an explosion (you're dynamite)

I shuddered as if I was actually cold and looked at him again, lip-syncing "you're an explosion" right at him. He started laughing and cheered me with his drink. The Bartender leaned over to tell him something, like they were long-time friends and I was surprised but not in the mood to waste my time thinking about that, it's not my business. So I continued with my crazy moves and weird poses.

Your name isn't Rio, but I don't care for sand Lighting the fuse might result in a bang, with a bang-go!

I felt him watching me with my back but I just didn't want to please him by looking at him. What a man, I thought, but what am I doing? The music was so encouraging to remember all the crazy shit that it was a soundtrack for, I managed to stick my worries to the back of my head and actually enjoy myself for the first time in long months.

I bet that you look good on the dance floor I don't know if your looking for romance or I don't know what you're looking for I said I bet that you look good on the dance floor Dancing to electro-pop like a robot from 1984 From 1984!

Now, I told myself and turned around to watch the dancing dude talk to the Bartender. I actually thought they were talking about me because the Bartender kept his eyes on me all the time the dude was telling him something. When he finished speaking, he glanced at me and I used the moment to sing "I bet that you look good on the dance floor" to him from afar. I was sure he saw it. I smiled, continuing moving my hips to the sound of music and trying to impersonate a robot from 1984. I knew he was watching me despite the very much dim lighting of the bar, coming from neon signs and candles on the tables mostly. The only light place was the bar itself, so I could see the dude, while he couldn't see much of me. But I know he saw, I was pretty close to the bar anyway. 

I wish you'd stop ignoring me Because you're sending me to despair Without a sound yeah you're calling me And I don't think it's very fair That your shoulders are frozen (cold as the night) Oh but you're an explosion (you're dynamite) Your name isn't Rio, but I don't care for sand Lighting the fuse might result in a bang, with a bang-go!

I came right up to him, singing the words to him, wanting to catch his attention and drag him to the dance floor with me. I didn't care if he wants it or not, he better come with me. The dude was really impressed and started laughing, but I took his hand in mine and pulled a bit for him to get up. He threw a quick glance at the Bartender, who nodded and laughed at us. The dude gave up and followed me. We somehow appeared to be at the very center, dancing and jumping like crazy. We sang the entire chorus at the top of our lungs, pointing at each other and dancing like robots. He did it hilariously and I couldn't stop laughing.

Oh there ain't no love no, Montagues or Capulets Just banging tunes 'n' DJ sets 'n' Dirty dancefloors and dreams of naughtiness!

He played his imaginary guitar and banged his head like he was actually playing the song at some gig and I was pretty taken aback how rockstar-ish he looked at that moment. He sang "dreams of naughtiness" way out of the range and was looking at me while I was imitating thrusts with my hips and we fell to our knees laughing right after.

When the song ended we were absolutely out of breath, but both of us smiled widely. As we proceeded to the bar, a slow song started playing. The dude stopped for a moment, bit his lip and offered me his hand.

Do you know what it feels like to dance alone? Do you know what it feels like?

I looked at him with zero understanding what's going on but placed my had in his open palm. He dragged me gently back to the dance floor.

His hand was on my waist and it felt very comfortable. At the moment I felt like we know each other for eternity, not less, and I still didn't know his name. He organically moved us both, whispering the lyrics in my ear, spinning me around, holding my hand, looking me in the eyes. He smelled like a very expensive cologne, cigarettes and a bit of healthy sweat - an unforgettable combination to be embraced in.

When the lights are turned too low for me In the dark I feel you close to me You're the one that I want to see

At this point we were barely moving, my hands around his neck, his hands on my waist; we just looked each other in the eyes, trying to find something we're missing… The song was just about to end when we both rushed forward a bit and split our dancing hug awkwardly. We proceeded to the bar and I finished my cocktail looking for an explanation to what happened. I closed my eyes, capturing those moments we shared with that strange man in my mind. Finally, I took a deep breath and opened my eyes to catch a look from the Bartender. In a slight haze, I turned around searching for the dancing dude, but he vanished without a trace, although he was right by my side a minute ago. Disappointed, I asked for a receipt, paid and went straight out.

[ryseling]

AAAAAA FINALLY. FINALLY HAVE I FOUND SOMEONE TO SCREAM ABOUT MY SHIPS WITH. THANK YOU FOR EXISTING. feed me any inogentanzen headcanons you have. Please and thank you

ALSHFJALF BLESS,,, IT’S SCREAM TIME!! 

• Inosuke is a notorious thief of comfy things. he snatches Tanjirou and Zenitsu’s haoris and Genya’s yukata whenever they’re left unattended and just snuggles into ‘em. refuses to give them back. they are his now. he’ll take blankets and pillows and stuff too of course (the minute he learned what a pillow fort was he decided he was going to be the BEST at making them), but it’s especially nice having soft things to snuggle that belong to his boyfriends. the only thing he likes more than bundling up all cozy in his boyfriends’ clothes is actually snuggling with the three of them.

• nothing relaxes Zenitsu like listening to his boyfriends’ heartbeats. he could wax poetic for hours about all of their unique sounds. Tanjirou always sounds gentle and warm, like the sun rising and the Earth waking up on a summer morning. Inosuke sounds like a rushing mountain river: loud, but strong, steady, and soothing underneath. Genya’s sound reminds Zenitsu of tree roots shifting in the earth and growing through stones - it might seem harsh on the ears at first when the roots are cracking stones apart, but it’s really very calming (plus the idea that the roots are overcoming obstacles to help the tree grow reassures Zen in this weird metaphor). if Zenitsu ever has trouble sleeping it really helps to just listen to those three. the combination of all of their sounds is his favorite, ‘cause it means they’re all close by and safe.

• because he can hear so well tho, Zenitsu can also hear how their heartbeats all change when they’re around him. at first he only paid attention to how their sounds changed around each other, but eventually he started picking up on it happening around him as well. because the lad is insecure he still refused to think it meant anything for a while, but once they all finally get their acts together and start dating, hearing how their heartbeats all sound happier around him just makes him,,, REALLY emotional,,, like it’s so hard for him to believe even one person likes him, let alone THREE, but when he listens the proof is right there and he doesn’t know how to handle it in the slightest.

• Tanjirou, Inosuke, and Zenitsu all have different approaches to getting Genya (damn giant that he is) within proper kiss distance. Tanjirou usually either asks directly for Genya to lean down, or makes some excuse for him to do so (you’ve got something on your face, Genya, let me get it or can you come closer so I can tell you something? or something like that), and kisses him then. Zenitsu usually kinda tugs at the hem or sleeve of Genya’s clothes without saying anything or starts loudly complaining about how tall Genya is until Genya gets the message and leans down. and of course Inosuke either just climbs Genya like a damn tree, or he takes the “if I run and leap at Genya he will most certainly catch me in his arms” route. every single one of these approaches makes Genya blush. every time.

• even though they all can’t always be together on missions, they always make an effort to make sure there’s someone to go with Genya whenever he has to go for his checkups.

• all four of them sometimes have trouble talking honestly about their feelings for various reasons, even as they get closer and better at being honest with each other, so they eventually work out a few nonverbal cues that they can use when they don’t feel like they can put something into words just yet. they have signals for “I’m feeling upset” and “I need comfort/attention” for sure, and a signal for “I love you,” ‘cause sometimes stuff’s just hard to say out loud!

• that just makes the times where they do say stuff out loud more special, though. being emotionally vulnerable is tough, but it’s easier when they’re with each other.

[lemonerix]

Immortality and 4 eons of misery

Day 6: Immortality or Passage of time/ History Au Word count: 3,775

Arthur doesn't know what deity he angered, but he was cursed with immortality. It wasn't all that bad, it had a lot of benefits. He can't die and he can't age. He only has to deal with the fact that he would have to watch everyone he knew and love grow old and die. He was sick of being immortal, he didn't know why so many wanted immortality, it's boring as fuck. You watch every mistake in history repeat over and over, you watch as everything changes around you while you stay the same, you watch everything move onto something new while you're stuck in time. It. Sucks.

However, he had a change of pace when he met a man in the Roman Empire. He wasn't really someone that stood out, but he was quite a charmer. The man, who introduced himself as 'Alfred', was cursed like him too, but his situation was slightly different. Instead of being immortal, his original consciousness is preserved whenever he dies and gets reincarnated.

Now, let us follow the duo's misadventures throughout history.

.

9th Century Somewhere in the Kingdom of Northumbria

"Wanna bet how long I last out here?"

"Hmm, three minutes. Four tops."

Alfred rolled his eyes, "What? You really think lowly of me, Arthur." The other man just nodded and pulled the younger man to the ground just as a volley of arrows soared above them. "Maybe even sooner if you continue to be an airhead in the battlefield." Arthur drew an arrow and shot another invader, "Why don't you go out there then? Show them the skills you learned in the Roman Empire, and actually be of some help to our forces." he told Alfred, who only rolled his eyes as he twirled his sword on the ground. "Eh, I'm not really in the mood to fight right now. Do you think they still have some food back in camp?"

"How am I supposed to know that? I would really appreciate being left alone right now." Arthur swore when an arrow planted itself on his thigh, "Damn, this is the fifth time today!" Alfred laughed, the archer only glared at him as he broke the shaft and pulled out the head from his thigh like he was picking a berry from a bush. His companion grimaced as he saw the bloody arrow head on Arthur's palm, "I should keep this as a memento." the archer shoved it into his shirt. 

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Alfred gagged at the disturbing sight.

"What's it to you? If you get to slack off, then I get to keep arrowheads."

"Sure, now I think you're some kind of loony who likes to keep weird things."

"Oh shut it, and get down!" Alfred ducked just as an ax zipped past their heads. Arthur rolled his eyes, "Just get out there and be the hero you think you are, and stop bothering me." he then shot down a man running towards them. Alfred tapped his chin, "Well, if I get to be the hero..." he grinned and shrugged his shoulders, "Ah, what the hell. Just remember the bet, Arthur. Seven pieces of silver and a free drink after all of this mayhem."

"Whatever, now leave me alone.”

Alfred laughed and picked up his sword, "Alright, you Danish bastards! Tremble before the mighty he—ACK!" an arrow lodged itself into his neck; he fell to the ground next to Arthur as he bled to death. The archer only raised an eyebrow, "Well, isn't that just a shame, you didn't even last one minute." he yanked the bloody arrow from the warrior's neck and used it to shoot down another enemy soldier, "Better luck next time, then." Arthur shrugged his shoulders as he took Alfred's sword and dove into the raging battle.

.

September 4, 1666 London, England

"I assume that you had nothing to do with this?"

"..."

"Arthur, don't tell me you actually caused this inferno."

"..."

Arthur's face was red from embarrassment, he was just borrowing a kitchen because he wanted to try baking. He accidentally left his baking unattended and fell asleep in the kitchen, the next thing he knew, he was inside of a burning kitchen. He got out—unharmed, but his clothes were burned— and ran into Alfred a few streets away. 

Alfred laughed, "Arthur, you can't be serious!"

The other man glared at him, "Shut up old man. At least I didn't die drowning in a barrel of booze six decades ago."

"Oh, don't you dare bring that up. Also, you're way older than me."

"Oh, am I? I don't look a day over twenty."

"...Yeah, alright. Now shut up."

Arthur gave him a mischievous smirk, the older man only rolled his eyes. It was true, Alfred was already in his late 50's during that time. He could already feel his old bones creaking in protest whenever he would stand, walk or do anything. The two watched as the people of London tried to kill the flames of hell that ravaged through the city.

The fact that it had been a dry summer that year made the fire stronger, the little water the people had were thrown to pacify the flames. It was a useless feat, half of the city burned for almost a week before the flames ran out of fuel. There were casualties and a lot of property damage, and there was a shortage of water, all because Arthur fell asleep while baking bread.

Alfred invited Arthur to stay at his place for the meantime, little did he know of what was waiting for him when he got home.

"I hate you, Arthur. I hope you know that."

"Don't worry, the feelings are mutual."

The two of them stared up at the charred skeleton of Alfred's home; the fire did reach a few houses on the other side of the city.

.

Summer of 1701 Somewhere off the coast of Cuba, in the Atlantic ocean

"Alright! A bountiful haul, lads. " The captain of the crew cheered, his mates yelled with vigor alongside him. "Cap'n, all the ship's crew has been accounted for. Now all we 'ave to do is segregate 'em, which are goin' to be sold, and...'snuffed out'." Buck, the captain's first mate, reported. "Brilliant," his green eyes shone with malice and excitement. "Now, why don't you help out the lads over there with our reward?" he told the sailor, who immediately joined the crowd that surrounded the treasures and spices they acquired from the merchant ship they raided.

Arthur grinned as he approached the men who stood in line with their hands tied behind their back. "You lot are at the mercy of our hands, you either join my crew, get sold as slaves, or be loyal to the crown and die." He pointed his sword at the men, who whimpered under his steel gaze. However, one did not break. He had a disinterested look on his face, his blue eyes looked at Arthur with disappointment and shame. He didn't even look older than fifteen, but his eyes regarded the pirate like he had known him for years. A sudden realization hit him, "You have got to be kidding me." he muttered under his breath, the boy smiled when the pirate turned around, "It's been a while, Arthur." he greeted.

"Yes, it has been a while, Alfred." Arthur face palmed, he just had to meet him under these circumstances. "What was this boy doing on your boat?" he asked one of the men. "He's a stowaway! He isn't part of the crew, we caught him hiding with the cargo before you ransacked the ship." the man answered, fearing for his life. 

"I didn't think that you'd become a pirate, Artie. You never struck me as the rebel type."

"Please, I know you have seen me doing dirty jobs back in Europe. Becoming a pirate wasn't that far off for me to do."

"Ah well, I'd really appreciate it if you can send me back home now. Mother's making my favorite dish for supper later."

Arthur sighed deeply, he did not want to deal with Alfred today. He dragged the boy by his arms, earning a yelp of protest as he was pulled away. "Consider yourselves lucky today." the pirate hissed at the captured crew, then he glared at Alfred, "Just so you know, I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing this because I am not in the mood to deal with your shenanigans."

"Whatever you say, buddy."

"Shut your trap, boy."

Arthur talked a bit with his crew, many were disappointed that they were going to lose the ship they captured, but were alright when they got to keep the stuff they stole. The captured crew and Alfred were sent back to a port in the Caribbean, and Arthur refused to answer his mates' questions about why they let the boat and crew get away.

It's nothing personal, really. He's just an old friend, after all.

.

Early 1780 Somewhere in South Carolina

"What? What got into you that made you side with those heathen rebels?"

"I beg your pardon, what made you side with the Crown? Just a couple of years ago, you were raiding ships for goods and treasure."

"Don't. Bring. That. Up. I dare you, if you speak of those days one more time, you'll have a bayonet shoved up your—!"

"Haha, don't test me, limey!"

Arthur and Alfred bickered back and forth, in a middle of a battle field. A small number of Revolutionary soldiers and British soldiers got lost from the main fight and ended up finding each other in an open field, where they began to shoot at each other. By some amazing coincidence, Alfred was leading the Revolutionary soldiers, while on the other side, Arthur was the captain of the British platoon.

They've been shouting back and forth for half an hour, their soldiers watching in confusion behind them. Another hour passed and the soldiers were already sick of watching their captains scream each other's heads off. They pulled their captains back into their respective ranks and left the field, silently vowing to never speak of this encounter to anyone, lest they embarrass their captains.

No blood was spilled on that field that day.

.

August 1880 Somewhere in the American Southwest

Arthur thought that it might be a great time to visit North America, the industrial revolution was also booming in the New World so he thought that maybe checking it out won't do any harm. The last time he was there wasn't really the best time to be an Englishman in America, so he hoped that things were better this time.

He was riding a train to California at the moment, the trains here in America are a bit different to the ones he rode back in Europe. The car he was in was fairly empty, he only heard the giggling of children a few seats away and the train's engine, not too much of a distraction from his reading. He was so focused in the novel he was reading that he did not notice an old man sit in front of him. 

"Hey..."

Arthur did not budge.

"Hey, psst!"

No response.

"Arthur!"

The man snapped out of his fantasy, he looked in front of him. A man in his early 70's grinned at him, he wore a top hat that matched with the crisp suit he had on, a walking cane in his hands, a thick mustache hid his lips and spectacles sat atop the bridge of his nose. Arthur would say that he didn't know the man, but when he noticed the familiar blue eyes, he knew who the man was.

"Alfred?"

The old man chuckled, "Yep, where've you been, Artie? I haven't seen you since the Revolution." Arthur blinked, "Well," he closed the book in his hands," just here and there. I've been travelling a lot these days." Alfred nodded. "What about you?" the Englishman asked," What have you been doing here in the Colonies—er, I meant America?"

"Well," Alfred thought for a bit,"I got shot in the Revolution, but was reborn shortly after. When I turned...I guess I was thirty, probably older. Anyway, I fought in the Civil War," he raised the left leg of his trouser, revealing a wooden prosthetic leg," lost a leg, but it was worth it. And now, I'm a humble business man, selling goods and stuff."

The two of them ended up talking the whole train ride. It was pleasant to catch up with an old friend, especially if they've practically known you for about a thousand years.

.

Fall 1944 Western Europe

"Shot down in the middle of a dog fight, dragged yourself to the nearest Allied base, and refused medical assistance, claiming that "I'm the Hero, nothing can stop me." before you promptly collapsed to the ground." Arthur read the report on his clipboard without emotion, "You know, I'd be surprised if this was someone other than you, Alfred." he told the man lying on the bed, the pilot only stayed silent as he pouted. He really wished that some other field doctor was attending to him at the moment, preferably the nurse with a pretty face a few beds away. Arthur let out a soft laugh, "I sometimes wonder if you have some sort of death wish." he began to clean the wounds on the pilot's arm. Alfred winced, but refused to talk.

"Oh come on, this isn't anything compared to the days back in the trenches. You were wilder back then."

"..."

"You're awfully quiet today, Alfred. Don't tell me your tongue got shot off."

"..."

"Well aren't you just a ray of sunshine."

Arthur fell silent as he continued to clean Alfred's wounds. He heard the pilot mumble something, "What? Can you say that again, I'm afraid I didn't hear you." he said. Alfred was a little flustered, he felt a little embarrassed asking Arthur out for drinks, especially in the situation they were in. 

"Can you...maybe,um...dammit..."

"Speak up lad, all I hear is gibberish."

"Remember that one viking raid, like several centuries ago?"

"...Oh, that one where you died just as you stepped into the battlefield?"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. Anyway, since...since I lost that bet. Maybe...I don't know...do you wanna go out with me...I meant, do you wanna go drink with me, once all of this is over? My treat." 

Arthur blinked, he had forgotten that wager between the two of them until Alfred brought it up. In all the years they have encountered each other, he couldn't remember on time where they actually just hung out like old friends, drinking their heads off, or talking casually about random topics. He did remember one time during the Great War, where Alfred shared his rations and talked with him when they were not being bombarded by the enemy. The American also saved his butt several more times that time, before ultimately sacrificing himself so that Arthur could escape from the enemy. He had been so caught up with everything that was happening at the moment, that he didn't even bother to recall the little things Alfred did for him in his past lives. 

Alfred waited for the other's response, hoping that he didn't sound weird or anything. "Well, I suppose..." Arthur replied quietly, he stopped tending the pilot's wound for a moment. "Once all of this ends, we'll see."

"So, is that a yes?"

"Maybe..."

"I guess it is."

A couple of weeks later, Alfred died of blood poisoning. Arthur felt a bit bummed out because Alfred didn't get to treat him to a pub.

.

Spring 1970 A small town in the English Countryside

After the war, Arthur decided that he'll spend a few decades laying low. A small town in the southern part of England sounded like an excellent place to stay for a while. After settling down, he thought of ways to spend his time alone.  The house he bought was isolated from the other homes, surrounded by wide field of wildflowers, a forest stretched from his backyard, and the little dirt road that passed by his home was rarely used by his neighbors. It was a perfect little paradise.

It did get a little bit lonely sometimes, he had no one to talk to. He didn't really know his neighbors that much, and the only person he could actually talk to was Alfred. He hadn't seen him since he died in the war, and—even though he might not admit it out loud—he missed him. He at least wished that they got to talk a bit longer, maybe even share a drink or two before he passed on. He didn't like thinking about Alfred, there was just something so wrong and right that Arthur felt whenever the man passed by his mind, something overwhelming blossomed in his chest. He was never really the smartest one out there, nor was he the best in identifying and expressing his emotions, so he was a little afraid of the new feeling he felt. He wanted to see Alfred, but at the same time, he didn't. It's quite confusing, but then he could fully understand it.

He was tending to his garden that afternoon, the spring had brought the best out of his roses and carnations. The sun was beating down on him, but it did not bother the Englishman. He knew how it felt to be burned alive, so a little sunshine was nothing.

"Hey!"

Arthur momentarily raised his head, he looked around and wondered if he had imagined someone calling out to him. He crouched down and continued to prune a rose bush.

"Artie! Hey!"

This time, Arthur looked at his garden fence. There, trying her best to hang on, was a girl about twenty years old. Her golden locks framed her flushed face, she wore a wide-brimmed sunhat and a pastel blue dress, and her ocean blue eyes shone with innocent happiness. The English man's face flushed, his mouth opened and closed before he could finally say out loud, "A...Alfred?"

"Yep. It's me, but I think you should call me Amelia."

"Uh-huh..."

He dropped his tools on the ground and stood up, he walked towards the girl behind the fence. "What...What are you doing here?" he asked, still trying to process everything around him. 

"Well, I was just visiting the English Countryside when I ran into you. Isn't that an amazing coincidence?" she laughed, "I didn't know you lived here. Your last address was in London, back in the 1900's."

"I just...I just thought that settling down here was a great idea, after the war and all."

"Huh, not bad." Amelia soaked in the calming sunshine and environment, "It's kinda hot out here. Can I get a glass of water, and some shade? Can ya do that for an old friend, Artie?"

"Uh...yeah. Come on in." Arthur opened his garden gate and invited Amelia into his home. That day, the Englishman felt afraid for the very first time since he was cursed.

.

Present day Manhattan

"Are you gonna stay a bit longer?"

"Yeah, I don't think I'll catch my flight because of this bloody headache."

"Pfft, that's on you, dude. You shouldn't have drunk that much last night."

"I know, don't rub it into my face."

"It wasn't even as strong as the ones they made back in the Dark Ages." Alfred laughed. Arthur only groaned and threw a pillow at the American, "Shut up! You're making it worse." The other man only rolled his eyes, he retrieved a glass of water and placed it on the nightstand next to the bed Arthur was in. "You should drink that. I can't believe you still drink yourself silly, despite drinking the strongest mead and wine in the past." he shook his head. Nothing much happened that day, Arthur stayed in bed while Alfred spent his time in the living room, occasionally checking up on Arthur.

He watched the Englishman's sleeping form, wishing that he was brave enough to say what he had in his mind. He found himself slowly falling in love every time the two of them would meet. It all started back in the glory days of Rome, where he met Arthur in a bath house. Something about the man charmed Alfred, and he found out why later on that Arthur can't die. His situation was somewhat similar, so he was glad that he met someone who knows how boring it is being 'immortal'. Since then, he followed Arthur wherever he went. He would always find himself searching for the man, or sometimes, the world would bring him to Arthur. Then he found himself wishing to spend every life he has with the immortal man, he didn't care if what he felt was wrong, all he knew that he loved Arthur because he was him. He wished that the other man felt the same, but he was sure that Arthur only saw him as a friend.

Arthur woke up just as the sun set on the horizon, he blinked and remembered where he was. He was in Alfred's apartment in New York. The American's fragrance filled his nostrils as he breathed in the scent of his covers, his face reddened when he realized that he was in Alfred's bed. He drank the glass of water by the nightstand and popped a painkiller before heading out of the bedroom. He headed into the kitchen where he found Alfred making dinner. "Arthur, you're up. Just wait a little bit, dinner's almost ready." The American told Arthur. He felt his face warming up, he didn't know why Arthur just had to come into the kitchen half-awake with only his boxers and a half-buttoned up dress shirt. He wanted to kiss him right there and then for being too cute. The two of them ate dinner together, having small talk, and retiring for the night.

"I...it's your bed, I can just sleep on your couch. Besides, I'm not that tired yet."

"N...no, I insist. You're a guest, I can always sleep on the couch."

The two of them went back and forth, until Alfred suggested, "If...if you wanna,uh...share the bed...I...I wouldn't mind, really." he rubbed his neck nervously, he waited for Arthur to laugh and just sleep on the couch, but he received a very unexpected response.

"W...well, I...I'd love to. Just...just don't get close to me...or anything. It's...it's not really gentlemanly to refuse an offer after all." Arthur stuttered out.

In the end, they ended up sleeping on the same bed that night. The things that happened that night is a story for another time, however.

***

That one episode of Good Omens really drove me to write this fanfic. I've also spent some time in r/trippingthroughtime before writing this, so I guess that's why everything is so chaotic, and there are probably a couple of inaccuracies here and there. Also, is this late or something? I can't really identify what day it is anymore. Anyway, hope ya'll enjoyed the story.

[chimilkie]

a million dreams

pairings; namjoon x reader

genre; angst, fluff

summary; dreams are only things that someone categorized as impossible.

warnings; none

“you don’t need him.”

“i know i don’t.” you swiped the red lipstick across your lips before smiling into the mirror to see if you were able to pull it off.

“oh..” namjoon whispered, furrowing his eyebrows together slightly. “so you don’t need the whole ‘you’re too good for him’ pep talk?”

you laughed, throwing your head back after capping the lipstick and throwing it in your purse. “of course i don’t joonie, i knew it all along. i was just hoping things would get better. and well, they didn’t and what’s done is done.”

he grinned, nodding his head with a little swerve before standing from your bed. “good, because i really don’t know how to give that talk.”

you walked over to him, grabbed his wrist and began to make your way out of your room. “tonight isn’t about that anyway, we’re going to have a blast regardless. maybe you’ll meet a girl there.” you winked back at him before slipping on your heels.

once he heard about your break-up, he insisted on staying in for a night and consuming questionable amounts of ice creams while binge watching disney movies. and although on any other day you would have jumped at the idea to spend time with your best friend like that, tonight you’d rather go out and have fun for the first time in a while.

you missed the look he shot you before rolling his eyes. “yeah, okay.”

a club had been your best choice, much to joon’s protest about not wanting to be around a bunch of drunk lads all night long. despite his ongoing complaints, he still got ready and followed you out the door after grabbing his keys. “okay ground rules before the uber gets here. no leaving without each other, no picking up a drink that you left unattended, no leaving your purse or phone anywhere, and never go into a dark room with someone strange.”

you nodded with a smile tugging at your lips. “sounds good.”

“did i forget anything important?” he rushed as the uber pulled up into your driveway. you linked your fingers with his before pulling him along behind you.

“no, relax! we’re gonna have fun tonight.” you were happy that you had finally managed to drag him out of his studio and out into an actual party. he sighed before tightening his grip on your hand and following after you.

you didn’t exactly remember anything the following morning, all you knew was that you had the most fun you’ve had in a while. you were too busy focusing on your pulsing headache to focus on the naked body laying next to yours - or the fact that you were, too, naked. without looking over, you flung your arm across the bed in an attempt to reach the nightstand and get your aspirin in the drawer.

you never reached the nightstand however, the only cause of your actions was elbow hitting very painfully against someone’s shoulder. your body froze, not wanting to turn and find out who was in bed with you. “what the hell, ow.” namjoon’s husky voice rang out into your bedroom. your body relaxed and your eyes fluttered closed once you realized that namjoon had just slept over again.

that didn’t last long though, as your brain soon after comprehended the fact that you were naked under your covers, and your best friend was lying right next to you - quite possibly, also naked.

your eyes flew wide open as you whipped your head to the side only to stare straight into namjoon’s panic-blown orbs. “d-did we...” you whispered out, voice cracking with anxiety half way through your sentence.

he breathed out once before shakily nodding his head. “yeah... yeah i think we did.”

you cried out in frustration. you couldn’t believe that the one night in months you got alcohol in your system, the first thing you did was sleep with your best friend. “i-i’m sorry.” namjoon stuttered, immediately standing to gather his clothes from your floor. “i should have had more control over myself last night, i’ll leave.” he rushed grabbing his shoes after changing into his clothes.

“namjoon...” you called softly, but he was already out the door. in hind sight, you should have gotten up, thrown some clothes on, and ran after him. but you were too shocked to really think logically right now. you had slept with your best friend, neither of you remembered it at all, and he had just ran out on you without discussing it with you at all.

“jesus christ!” you yelled out throwing yourself back against your pillows.

weeks soon passed without any communication between you and namjoon. you had tried to contact him multiple times, but always chickened out before you could send the text or make the call.

after the short few weeks without him, you soon realized how much you loved your best friend and needed him in your life. he was always by your side and now that he wasn’t, you regretted not making him permanent sooner.

sitting in the small coffee shop on the corner of you block, you clutched the hot coffee in your hand as you started across the table at yoongi. “so... you both are just gonna ignore each other for the rest of your lives?” you nodded, lifting the hot drink up to your lips.

he sighed, rolling his head back in a circle to stretch out the muscles before locking eyes with you. “it can’t be that bad. what happened between you two that could be this bad?”

“we slept together.”

“oh shit!” he chuckled breathlessly, eyes blown wide. “seriously?”

“it’s not funny!” you cried with a pout, rubbing at your eyes with your closed fists. “we woke up, both realized what happened, and he apologized and left.”

“yeah, probably because he thought you were pissed.” yoongi rolled his eyes, leaning back against the cushioned booth behind him.

“or because he regrets that it ever happened.” you could feel your eyes burning with the idea that he had never wanted to have sex with you in the beginning. the next few days after he had left your apartment, the memory of that night had began to come back to you.

you specifically remember wanting to sleep with him. you remember kissing him first and you remember the way he had touched you. you wanted nothing more than to be able to relive it all again, but there was no chance of that happening if neither of you ever talked again.

yoongi scoffed, threw his head back, and laughed. he laughed. “please, that kid’s been in love with you since the tenth grade.”

“what?” you froze, turning to look at the older man in front of you once more.

“you know what i said. if anyone regret sleeping with their best friend while drunk, it’s you, not him. he’s - once again - just probably wanted to leave before you flipped out and yelled at him to get out.”

“oh my god. i love him.” you breathed out in realization after processing yoongi’s words for quite awhile in silence.

“yeah, everyone knows.”

“where is he?” you stood up throwing a few dollar bills on the table to cover your half of the check.

“studio, hasn’t left since a week or so ago.” he shrugged, continuing to casually sip on his latte as if he didn’t just potentially fix a friendship and a half.

you had never rushed to get somewhere faster in your life. if your gym teacher had seen you in that moment, you could have possibly passed in high school. when you finally made it to the nice building namjoon and yoongi both worked in, you shoved the glass front doors open before running past the front desk and towards the elevator. your mind was so crowded about what you were actually going to say to the man, that you momentarily forgot about what floor his studio was even on.

the few minutes it took to get to the seventh floor felt like years, and when the metal doors opened you had to close your eyes and take in a few deep breaths. you walked over to his studio door in a few long strides and raised your fist to knock gently. “come in.” his voice called out softly. you grabbed the handle and slowly twisted before pushing the door open enough for you to slip in.

“joonie?” you whispered out tentatively. he whirled around quickly in his chair to face you as you shut the door behind yourself.

“what are you doing here?” he asked with a slight bite to his voice.

you felt the color drain from your face and your heart drop to your chest at the idea that maybe he did regret everything that happened between the two of you. “i just... you haven’t talked to me in awhile. well i mean, i haven’t talked to you either so i guess we haven’t talked to each other? but either way i-i missed you and i wanted to come see you.”

he frowned lightly at you before opening his arms for a hug. you immediately bolted towards him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck and his secured themselves around your waist. “i missed you too.” he mumbled into your neck.

before you could really stop yourself, you pulled away from the hug and pressed your lips passionately to his. he didn’t waste any time in kissing you back. “don’t leave.” he mumbled pulling you against him suddenly as he leaned back against his table. you shook your head, threading your fingers through the hairs on the nape of his neck and as you spoke between kisses.

“i wasn’t even thinking about it.”

[crossbows-and-moonshine]

Guys I did it! *Sobs violently*

Alright, here’s my list of recommended fics you super awesome humans. 

As I said in my other post, writers helping writers is awesome so I’m so happy to tell you some of the fics I’ve read that I love. Go show these amazing people some love for the time and effort they have put in to create wonderful fics. Any fics I mention have been read by me (multiple times with some), and I totally recommend them. 

I’m gonna do this in a few ways, first off, I’ll section Archive of Our Own separately to FanFic.net, just to make it easier for me to grab the links. Ao3 has a nifty little thing where you can see your reading history so I can grab them from there, with FF, I need to go through and find them, pray for me lololol.

I’ll also be separating the Boondock Saints ones and Daryl ones, just for your ease, if you're only interested in one and not the other. The Daryl ones are only on Archive, because I haven't really read any over on FF for some reason, don't ask me why, I just haven't.

They’re not in any particular order, just as I see them, I'll grab them.

These aren’t all the fics I’ve read, some of the ones I love have been deleted by the writer, which breaks my heart honestly, and some of them I just can't remember.

It’s so fucking long guys, brace yourselves, I’ll put it under the cut.

So, here we go!

Archive of Our Own [Boondock Saints]

- One of Three 

I really like this one and you guys should really check it out.

Author Summary; She had cocooned herself, letting routine and safety run her life. After everything she knew it wasn't much of one, and because she decided to do the right thing her life's about to hit a tailspin in some of the worst and most fantastic ways.

This is a Murphy/OC/Connor story and it’s amazing.

Chapters; 18

- Boondock Saints OC Arc

This ones a little different because it's not set out like the usual fic. Its an arc and some bits have one chapter, one of arcs even has 36. They all follow the same storyline and it flows like a normal fic, the author has just chosen to post it this way, and it works.

Author summary; The story of one girl's first up close and personal encounter with one of the brothers on a late-night subway.The 1st story in my Boondock Saints OC story arc.

This is a Murphy/OC/Connor fic, and it's one of my favs honestly, I've read it all numerous times.

Chapters; I can't give you an exact number with the way it's set out, but as I said, one arc alone has 36, so there's plenty to sink your teeth into.

- Everybody Knows

I love this one, it's short and sweet.

Author summary; Everybody knows exactly what Marissa needs to do to get over her recent breakup. She's spent the last month in mourning and her friends are ready for her to move on...

Murphy/OC/Connor.

Chapters; 4, but there's also a sequel which is 5 chapters long, I won't post the link for that since when you've read this one, the option to click on to the next part is at the bottom.

- Saints Alive

I looooove this one!

Author summary; Skid is once again on her own and she has to find a new place. Luckily for her, she knows a friend who knows a guy who knows of a place for free. Downside is it's in the South side of Boston where crime is rather terrible. Of course, with two Irish brothers as new next door neighbors, what's the worst that could happen? 

Murphy/OC/Connor

Chapters; 7

- Time Zero Blues

Okay, so this one, omfgjwoehdjshndloihd. This is one of my favvvvvs of all time, I’ve read it so many times, if you don't read it, I just might cry.

Author summary; Murphy and Connor get out of work early and are headed to McGinty's. Murphy finds a trail of Polaroids along the way that lead them to an unexpected situation. 

Murphy/OC/Connor

Chapters; 23

- Sacrament of Penance

If you’re after something to get you hot and bothered, this is it :’)

Author summary; "If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness." (1 John 1:9) Pure PWP, sacrilege, and gratuitous smut.

Murphy/OC/Connor

Chapters; 5

- Robyn Hood

This one is mine! Lololol. I’m not recommending it because I’m saying its good, but I haven't posted it here because honestly I’m lazy, so if you wanna read another one of my multi-chapter fics, then hop on over :)

Author summary; When Robyn gets thrown into the life of The Saints, it causes a big stir between the brothers. The boys deal with their feelings for her in very different ways, and all of their lives get turned upside down. Connor/OC/Murphy.

Slightly AU, set a year after the first film, they don't go back to Ireland.

Murphy/OC/Connor

Chapters; 15

- Choíche Is go deo

Another one of mine I’m pretty sure I’ve never posted here.

Author summary; Follow Niamh Flannagan as she grows up with the twins in Ireland and watches them turn from boys into men. How will they both deal with having feelings for her? Will jealousy get in the way? 

Murphy/OC/Connor.

Chapters; 8

Fanfic.net [Boondock Saints]

- Risk it all

I’m in love with this one, it’s really fucking good.

Author summary; Nolee moved to South Boston with a hope to escape her past and make a better life for herself. What she didn't plan on was the peculiar Murphy MacManus coming into picture and breaking down everything she thought she knew. As they attempt to bond, can she overcome her tainted old life and let down her walls? Especially with one extra problem: she's already pregnant.

Murphy/ OC

Chapters; 22

- Warrior Shepherds

Another one of my all time favs. I love the dynamics of the characters and how well the boys are written. There’s some serious humour thrown into the mix and I laughed out loud so many times when I read this one. You’ll also be pleased to know this author is on Tumblr, @risingphoenix761. If the username looks familiar, it's because I tag her in all of my shit and recently wrote her a BDS drabble for her birthday. She's an awesome human, so check her out :D

Author note; They were called to destroy evil, but crossing paths with a wayward soul meant compromise. And in compromising, the MacManus brothers get more than they bargained for. Connor/OC/Murphy (rated M for violence, language, and sexual content)

Murphy/OC/Connor

Chapters; 37

- Amaryllis

Also by @risingphoenix761, and equally good and worth a read.

Author summary; She wasn't necessarily in their plans. They definitely weren't in hers. Yet between fate, coincidence, a few misadventures and some small favors, plans don't count for much anyway. Now the only question is, are they really just friends?

Murphy/OC/Connor

Chapters; 6

- Two Lads and A Lass

I love this one!

Author summary; This is a story about my OFC, Timi, who meets the MacManus brothers a year and a half before they become the Saints of Boston. Follow their adventures as Murphy and Connor try to pull the shyness out of Timi and teach her what love and fun truly is.

Murphy/OC/Connor

Chapters; 27

- Her Defenses

Yet another high on my list, I love everything about this story.

Author summary; "What do you two see in me that makes you want to try and fix me?" A new life in Boston meant giving up everything she had back home. That never meant that she had to give up her defenses at the same time. Rated M for language and (future) adult situations.

Murphy/OC/Connor

Chapters; 40

- A Saint, A Sinner

Now this one right here, I have probably read so many times I know it word for word, I’m not even kidding. This is very high on my list. The boys are written perfectly, I love every fucking thing about this one, and there's some very interesting hot and heavy shit along the way.  If you only read one fic of this list, it needs to be this one.

Author summary; Connor M./OC/Murphy M. BDS prequel/romance. What happens when you drink whisky with the boys? It's got it all: romance (as far as the boys can DO romance), fluff, hurt/comfort, plot, canon plus research. Rated for MacManus mouth, violence, & explicit three-way smut (no twincest). Note: The BDS belong solely to T. Duff

Murphy/OC/Connor

Chapters; Now it says 87, but the author has been reworking this fic so it's actually about 67 I think? I’m unsure, and the chapters are a little shorter than usual fics. It’s still amazing and a lot for you to immerse yourself in.

- Saints Angel

Another good one you need to check out.

Author summary; The Saints help to protect everyone in their city, but what if they had a protector of their own? In comes a woman, a hurt, young, lovely woman that was rescued by them, given a new life. To her, they are her boys and she will now do anything to protect them. She will become their Angel...forever to walk by their side...forever to watch over them. 

Murphy/OC/Connor

Chapters; 21

- Once More, With Feeling

This one is perfect quite honestly, I fucking love the OC so much and everything about this fic.

Author summary; [HIATUS - UNDER REVISIONS][ConnorxOCxMurphy] Avery, an emotionally independent journalist becomes complicated by her simultaneous feelings for both of the twins. As their secret life of vigilante world unfolds, Avery is left unattended to an entitled, delusional psychopath.

Murphy/OC/Connor

Chapters; 9

- Alexis's Saints

Another one I absolutely love.

Author summary; Alexis just recently moved to South Boston with her mother. When a nightmare from her past returns full force, she runs into the MacManus brother's and despite trying to stay away from them, she finds herself growing attached to the two brothers as the three try to figure each other out. Rated M for language and some adult themes. Please Enjoy

Murphy/OC/Connor

Chapters; 13

- The Possessed 

This one is fucking amazing. It’s so different from any other BDS fic I’ve read and well worth the read. There's also a sequel which is Connor/OC, so if you wanna read that, click on their username after reading this one and give that one a read too.

Author summary; She is possessed by something evil and supernatural. They have been asked to help save her, to call upon their faith, but one of them is struggling to believe in anything anymore. If she can't be saved then they will be forced to kill her. Do they have the strength to do what they must? Can he believe in something again? 

Murphy/OC

Chapters; 19

- The Librarian

I love the humour in this one and just everything about it.

Author summary; "You're murderers." Rhetta held up a hand, "And please don't give me a speech about how you only killed 'evil' men. I've heard it all before. And while I do agree that the men you killed deserved it, I do not believe that you have the right to take the law into your own hands." "So, you're no' a fan?"

Murphy/OC/Connor

Chapters; 17

OKAY, I’m gonna leave it at that for the BDS ones, I know there's more but you have no idea how long that just took me, omg lolololol.

Archive of Our Own [Daryl]

- His Walls

This one is so fucking good, it’s number two on my list of Daryl fics. I love how it starts off with young Daryl, they write him so well and exactly how I imagine him to be. It’s soooooo good guys, read it

Author summary; People build up walls, not to keep others out, but to see who cares enough to break them down. Truer words have never been spoken where Daryl Dixon was concerned. He never expected anyone to care enough, until someone did.

Starts out AU with 20 yr old Daryl, from Chapter 22 on out we'll be in the ZA-world.

M-rating for smut, language, adult topics, descriptions of abuse & attempted rape.

Chapters; 51

- Gorgeous

I hadn't actually read this one before, but I came across it when searching for ones I had read, and I fucking loved it. Young Daryl is my jam and this was so well written and just a good read. It’s a young Daryl AU, so the rest of the twd characters are in it too, like Rick his best friend, Maggie the readers best friend etc. 

Author summary; After meeting Daryl on the way home from a party the reader hatches a plan to get him to like her. But if it isn't friends and well-meaning King County citizens that tell her to stay away from him than it's Daryl himself, who's trying to keep his own feelings from coming to the surface.

Chapters; 16

- 357 Daryl Jerkin' It Drive

This one is a little different, this is a collection of works by the writer where they write not only about Daryl, but a lot of different characters Norman has played. As you can tell by the title, they’re all smut based, and well worth the read. It's also worth mentioning that the writer also has a tonne of other Daryl stories so make sure to head onto their profile to check everything else out, it would take too long to link them all here. Most of them are AU Daryl which I love and they're a really talented writer.

Author summary; none.

Chapters; it's hard to say since its a collection, most are one-shots but I know at least two of the works in there are nine chapters each.

- Night Stalker

Okay I lied, this is the same author as above and the next one is too because it's a sequel to this, but they're my favs by this author, I love them. They're a little dark and they're AU, but if you're like me, you'll love them. I recently recommended the sequel to this one to someone in my ask box.

Author summary; Daryl is mentally unstable, but functioning. He falls in love.

Chapters; 15

- Walking in the Light

The sequel to the above story, I’m in love with it, read it now!

Author summary; Sequel to "Night Stalker". Daryl is improving under the care of his new nurse, Krissy. He is still confused by the hallucination, and why Krissy reminds him so much of Kristin.

Chapters; 17

- Just Another Day

Another AU Daryl story that is amazing.

Author summary; Redemption. It's a concept Daryl Dixon is completely unfamiliar with- but desperately needs. It lives in his dreams, where he's a hero among men in the zombie apocalypse... but that's not real life. Real life is sorrow, loneliness, and pain. Until he meets his beautiful neighbor- then its possibility, hope, and maybe a bullet to the brain.

Chapters; 15

- In The Little Town of Jasper…

Yet another amazing AU Daryl story. Are you sensing a theme here? Looool. I’m pretty sure this is the same author as His Walls that I recommended, but I’m too lazy to check. 

Author summary; -Abrasive. Yes, that description fit him perfectly. The guy smelled like trouble, and she knew he would get even more abrasive the longer she talked to him. Too bad she didn't care. -A pretty stranger that talked to him, knew his name and his place of work? In Daryl's book, that just couldn't be good news. AU - Daryl Dixon/OC, Explicit for language and sexual situations. Yes smut!

Chapters; 65

- Second Hand Hearts

This is another fic I highly recommend you read. (Duh, or it wouldn't be on the list, God Sarah ur like so annoying) :’)

Author summary; In her darkest hour, a woman who has lost everything is rescued by a handsome man with a crossbow and nothing to lose-until he meets her. In a nightmarish new world, where the dead prey on the living, can they beat the odds and together make life worth living again?

Chapters; 32

- Transference

Another AU Daryl one, but it’s so fucking good and different to a lot I’ve read.

Author summary; Be warned. This is a story about Daryl seeking out a different and not so mainstream relationship. It is 100% consensual and he asks for it. He seeks out what he wants so if you have read the tags and you continue to read it's on you. Xoxoxox Krissy

Chapters; 14

- Hope is a Waking Dream

I know I keep saying I love the fics, but I do, clearly. This one though is another favourite of mine and you really need to read it. I love the dynamic between the OC and Daryl.

Author summary; Set between Seasons 2 and 3. Melissa Sheppard is alone in the ZA, but she was alone before the dead owned the earth. She prefers it that way. Boy, is she pissed when she gets back to her cabin to find it has been taken by strangers.

Chapters; 24

- Paths Crossed

I’m getting sick of hearing myself say I love it over and over, so just fucking read it and make me happy! *sobs*

Author summary; While out hunting Daryl comes across a stranger and decides to help her despite his better judgement and they begin on their journey together.

Chapters; 61

- Daryl Dixon Loves Me

This is another I hadn't actually read until now when I was searching, I actually really loved it. It's full of smut and that's never a bad thing. It took me a couple of chapters to really get into it, but it's really worth the read.

Author summary; Daryl comes across Lucy (OC) in the woods and claims her for his own. The story begins during the Farmhouse era of the series.

Chapters; 14

- A Star In A Sea Of Darkness; Darkness In A Sea Of Stars

Another one, just read it.

Author summary; After the Governor attacked the prison, the only person left in Daryl's shitstorm of a life was Judith. For Daryl, it's enough. Until he met her.

Chapters; 28

- Roommate

Holy shit, this fic is everything. It's AU pre-ZA and it's just the best. It's so good, I can't even put into words, very high on my list and it also has a sequel set in the ZA that’s 13 chapters long, please read it. If you like AU things, this is for you. The way they write Daryl in this, it's just gold. It’s also told in Daryl's POV which is just amazing.

Author summary; Several bodies are found in the area of a small town. In this town lives Daryl, the killer of all those people. The investigation goes on, the profile is made, and now the police and the FBI look for a specific type, a loner type, ... Daryl's type. He decides to find himself a roommate in an attempt to mislead the police. Let's see how that will turn out for him. AU pre-apocalypse horror story. Obviously very OOC Daryl.

Rated M for a good reason, violence, foul language, adult content... it's all there, consider yourself warned.

Chapters; 12

- Wallflower

Okay, so this ones a little different. It's actually a Daryl/OC/Rick love triangle and I usually don't read Rick fics (loool that rhyme though) but this is a good fic.

Author summary; Thea Graham has lived in Alexandria for over a year and is happy being mostly invisible. This is what happens when she suddenly has the attention of two men.

Chapters; 20

- Running Wild

This story is number one on my list guys, this is right up there with His Walls. This is my number one fav Daryl fic of all time and I’ve read it so many fucking times it's unreal. This fic is life, it’s everything. If I could only read one fic over and over for the rest of my life, it would be this one.

Author summary; Four years have passed since their sanctuary at the prison fell at the hands of the Governor and the surviving members are now thriving at their new home just north of Atlanta. Out of the blue, late one afternoon, Daryl Dixon stumbles across someone they thought they'd lost long ago; a member of the Woodbury community that had returned with Rick to the prison.

Warning: This fic is quite a bit darker than my other ones. If you are looking for fluffy bunny, happy prancing unicorns and rainbow colored endings, this is not the story you are looking for.

Chapters; 67

- Amnesia

I love this fucking story, ‘nough said.

Author summary; Her story isn't all that different from anyone else these days. The world went to shit, and the dead don't want to die. She's lost people. So has everyone else. Who she was before isn't who she is now. But there is one difference between Lena and every other survivor she's come across. She doesn't know who she was. And who she is? Well, she's still trying to figure that out.

During the mayhem of the early days of the apocalypse, a fateful smack on the head stole her memory. All she's ever known is the world she's living in now. But that doesn't mean she's adept at surviving it. Eventually, she ends up alone and near death's door. Till a man on a motorcycle chooses to save her life.

Now she has to decide if who she was is worth finding, or if she'll fight the hell that comes with what's forgotten and strive for something better with the one man in the world who can see past it all.

Chapters; 48

- Cherokee Rose

Yet another amazing fic!

Author summary; Daryl and Raven's world collide after a visit to Hilltop by the group from Alexandria. Raven's only love is her Black Stallion Obsidian and Daryl has been done with loving anything for a long time. He's had a lot of practice hardening his heart but the dark vixen is finding cracks in his armor. Will Raven be the one that will finally make Daryl feel again? Rated for sexual situations.

Chapters; 21

- Lips of an Angel

I fucking love this fic. This author has already made it on this list because she's so fucking good. Just go read all of her shit. Its AU Daryl, which by now you guys should probably be able to tell I love looool.

Author summary; Daryl calls a phone sex line. I know this is a trope that has been done before but I feel like I added my own spin on it. I hope you enjoy. I love Hinder, and I heard this song on the radio, so here we are.

Chapters; 11

- The Country Singer

Amazing story, go forth and read my children…

Author summary; Country Music rising star, Melanie McCall and her songwriting partner are headed to D.C. to find hope after their tour bus breaks down and their band is wiped out. They are given a chance to come to Alexandria...but what will happen once their new neighbors find out she was Beth Greene's favorite singer?

A story about losing voice, but finding hope.

Chapters; 18

- Home at last (Redux)

Yet another good one for you guys to read. 

Author summary; There are two people alive in this world for whom childhood was a dangerous, precarious, frightening place. For whom life has never been easy and relationships always strained and unnatural things. Having connected, against the odds and then been torn apart by civilization falling around them. How will they react when they meet each other again.

One of them has survived on a deep well of anger and pain, found a family, of sorts, and begun to try and put his past behind him and learn to let people in. The other has dropped the pretense she'd built up before the world went to shit and now she is as detached and self-reliant as he used to be. What happens when these two meet? Can two misshapes fit together and face the world as a better, stronger, complete whole? Can they find, in each other, a place to call home at last?

Chapters; 84

- Of Myths and Men

I fucking love this one, please read it.

Author summary; This story will follow an Original Female Character and her dog through to TWD world from the beginning of the turn.

She will meet the rest of the group, around mid season four.

There is no Beth in my story, Beth fans. I'm sorry.

Artemis. Greek Goddess of the hunt, wild animals, wilderness, childbirth and virginity. Though many Gods vied for her affections only her hunting companion, Orion, could win her heart.

She'd heard them all, been asked if she was a virgin, asked if she had a twin brother, Apollo, asked if she was raped and attacked by her friends and family, asked if she had killed anyone... She was just a girl from a small town with a stupid name.

Artemis had never wanted an Orion, and now the world was falling apart she gathered the chances of meeting one were slim to none. Right? She has Diablo, her best friend and protector.

Who needed the Greek giant Orion when you had the Devil on your side anyway?

Chapters; 42

- Saving Valentine

OH MY GOD THIS STORY GUYS. I love this one, really fucking love it. High on my list. It's got a little bit of Negan/OC in there, but who doesn't love a bit of Negan? I certainly fucking do lololol It’s mainly Daryl/OC though, so even if Negan isn't your jam, I would really recommend reading this.

Author summary; She fought and killed to survive but she lived for revenge. Valentine waits for the right moment to kill the man who murdered her family. Can she do what needs to be done to escape the Sanctuary that is her prison? Can she accept the helping hand from strangers to do it? Can she live with all she lost? TWD world, non canon timeline.

Chapters; 51

- The Living and The Dead

Can we just talk about vampire Daryl for a second, because like HOLY FUCK WHY IS THIS THE ONLY VAMP DARYL FIC I HAVE EVER FOUND. *Breathing intensifies*

Anywho...this story, just fuck. It's everything, it gives me life, please read it omfg.

Author summary; Daryl is the last of his species, in a world that has just turned stranger and stranger since the day his brother turned him.

He's living as normal a life as you can on your own in the woods surrounded by Walkers... until Evie shows up, and threatens to bring all his instincts right back to the surface.

Chapters; 65

- Beasts and Monsters

If you're after a badass OC, this is the story for you. It's so good.

Author summary; Having lost her entire group, Lena finds herself alone in a crumbling world watched through darkened eyes. She is courageous, savage and uncomplicated. Her only companions being an obedient horse and two pet Walkers. When she finds herself outside a prison, inside the walls she finds a group of survivors capable of giving her a glimmer of hope.

Chapters; 31

- Stay

I really love this one *whines*

Author summary; Hannah has been alone for months, but somehow she's made it. But after discovering a school tucked into the northern hills of Georgia, she encounters a stranger who is just as damaged and broken as she is.

Chapters; 48

- Born Nameless

What's this? Yet another good story? Why yes, it is. 

Author summary; Anamika has been alone from the start of the apocalypse and she likes it that way. Groups meant vulnerability, which meant death and Anamika wanted to survive. However, circumstances change and when she agrees to give Alexandria a chance, she finds that she just might not have met the right sort of people before, in particular a dirty, gruff redneck with a hidden heart of gold.

Chapters; 35

Random bonus fic;

- I think I liked you better when you didn't have a knife in your hand, Peaches…

I thought I’d throw this one at you, why’s it a bonus fic you ask? Its a Negan fic, not Daryl, but what the fuck, have it anyway, its really fucking good loooool I fucking love Negan man, I’ve thought about writing him so many times :’)

Author summary; When Blake finds herself sold out to the Saviours by her abusive fiancé, she realises that she's certainly not on her own anymore and finds an unlikely friend in Negan. And Negan does NOT like men who beat their girlfriends, one tiny bit….

Chapters; 140

And that is it guys! Holy fudge nuts, can we just talk about how long this list took me to make? It’s 20 pages long guys *sobs* don’t say I never give you anything.

That nifty history thing on Ao3 I mentioned, for some reason, quite a few weren’t there and I had to go through the fics to find them. Not every single one is on the list, that would take me fucking forever to do, but these are the best ones I've read.

On that note, I want to just say something.

I’m an avid reader of fics, and as you know if you're here, a writer. So let me just take a quick minute to tell you how much writers appreciate feedback on their fics. 

We write for free, we gain no money from what we do, using our spare time and take painstaking hours to not only write fics, but edit, make them perfect and get them out to you. Every like/kudos, or comment/reblog, it means the fucking world to us.

I reply to every comment I get, every time someone likes my shit or comments, it makes my fucking day. Because it reassures me I’m doing good.

I have my days where I think I'm a shit writer and that no one would care if I gave up, and then someone will comment, even something simple like’ this was good’, and it fills me with so much fucking joy.

So, if you read a fic and like it, please let us know. Even if you just like/kudos the thing, just a click, it doesn't take any time, it means so much to us. If you really liked it, comment, let us know. Don't know what to say? 

‘Awesome’

‘Good job’

‘I loved this’

All of these are adequate, you don't need to over think what you say. If you liked one line in particular, tell us, it's everything. 

Of course you don’t have to, but it’s always welcome is what I’m trying to say.

So with that out of the way, I hope you enjoy the fruits of my labour with this list and I’ve given you a lot to read. My eyes feel like they’re falling out and I might die, but there we go, it’s done. :’)

Much love

Sarah x

[dingletragedy]

5+ headcanons for....tinder au!

aarons had tinder for years. his profile hasn’t been updated since he was 22, and he supposes he looks marginally different now at 26. but he’s not arsed about tinder, reckons it’s overhyped and underwhelming. he finds himself scrolling through tinder once a year, when he’s exceptionally bored or adam’s banging on about his own love life and he has to admit he feels a little lonely.

the time of year for a boy search comes around one week when he’s staying down in london with adam. his finger aches from relentless left swiping and he’s about close the app down when robert’s profile pops up.

robert, 30 - he’s a business manager or something fancy like that and he’s not at all aaron’s type. he’s got 4 photos, dressed impressively in all except one, where he’s in sweats and has a younger girl laughing at his side. that’s aaron’s favourite. luckily for aaron, robert has his instagram linked, and he does a bit of obsessive stalking. aaron can’t pinpoint what it is about robert but he’s making butterflies dance in his stomach.

aaron is so engrossed he doesn’t notice adam stood behind him, who is now laughing at his expense. ‘mate just swipe will you, you obviously fancy the pants off of him’. only that puts aaron’s guard up, so he locks his phone, leaves robert’s profile just sitting there.

aaron should’ve known better than to leave his phone unattended in adam’s company, because the next time he checks it he has one new match and one new message: robert - hey, tie your shoes! i don’t want you falling for anyone else - it reads.

he replies, eventually. after hours of over thinking what to put he just goes for, alright mate (so not cool aaron). he’s not sure how it happens but suddenly it’s 2am and he’s still chatting to robert, they’ve moved past the small talk and are currently having a heated debate about cars. sleep succumbes him around four thirty in the morning, his phone clutched tightly in his hand and robert’s face illuminating his screen.

after weeks of chatting, moving from tinder to whatsapp to phone calls, they set a date to meet. luckily for aaron, robert is living in leeds and was only down in london on business - for the first time in his life aaron believes in fate.

he meets robert at some bar in town, reckons it’s the safest option - his mum had took pleasure in telling him all the tinder-related horror stories she knew. but fuck, robert is gorgeous. and robert thinks the same about aaron, tells him so and aaron blushes under it.

what was supposed to be a couple of drinks turns into a few too many drinks and neither of them realise how many hours have passed by them, too engrossed in each other . aaron thinks about inviting robert back to his place, and god does he want to, but he’s done that many times before with various lads, and he wants this to be different. so they settle for a snog in the dark streets and robert promises to text him tomorrow.

aaron spends the whole day staring at his phone, wonders if he should text first but wants to play it cool. when it gets to 5pm he panics, starts thinking the worst, phones adam up and tells him he’s a fucking idiot.

turns out he doesn’t have anything to worry about because the next week roberts taking him for a fancy meal, 3 courses and red wine - aarons never felt so loved before. they’re both wearing suits and aaron doesn’t have the control not to drag robert back to his apartment this time around.

aarons never felt like this about anyone before, never thought he would. he buys a diary for god sake, writes down all the times he sees robert; where they go, what they do. circles a heart around the date robert first holds his hand, tells him he loves him, meets the family.

after a while, aaron mostly stops counting the dates, except for the big ones, like their wedding, their fifth anniversary, the day their daughter was born, the day their son was born, their tenth anniversary, and well, you get the picture.

[cottonwren]

A Well Dressed Woman | Chapter 9

Summary: some things can’t be repaired, but Jamie is doing her best

A/N: Sorry for the delay! <3

“How’s your hip?” Tommy asked as he kept his eyes on the road, worried about the effect the cobbled streets would be having on her still bleeding hip. He’d have to make sure she had dressing and appropriate equipment for treating it, and he’d have to ask her sister if she knew how to do it. If he lost his only business competitor to an infected gunshot wound he’d be pissed. Pissed and heartbroken.

“Only feels like I’ve been shot” Jamie replied with a cocky smirk, her hand clasping her hip anyway, aware of the speed that blood could stain through bandaging. This was a good suit that she didn’t need to ruin.

“Do you need me to go slower?” He looked over at her and spotted the way she was holding her left hip. Bloody cobbles. Tommy wanted to take her to London, to Birmingham, anywhere that the ride would be a lot smoother than that of the one they were on.

“No, just don’t drive over a dead body and I’ll be fine” She teased, sensing his anxiety. Jamie herself was worried, but not for herself or the state of her hip. No, for her sister and the business, for Samson’s family, for everything she had worked for.

“It is your town that we’re going in to, the kids throw themselves under your cars here” Tommy reminded her, starting to drive through the little town. The last time he had visited, he had nearly ran over a cocky eight year old who was playing chicken in the street.

“If they live, you give them money to be quiet, if they die, they have no need money. Smart business module, in all honesty” Jamie explained, her hands moving as she explained - she herself had done it in dire times.

“Knew you were fucking insane” He jibed, giving her a grin to assure her he really was joking - Tommy admired the girl’s brains, but sometimes…

“And here I was thinking that your common sense had left your head” She sighed softly, a smirk playing on her face as she admired his face. God, how was he so pretty? Jamie was ready to self destruct - he was funny, fucking gorgeous, and he had a beautiful baby boy. The only downside was the murder, capitalism and general violence. Then again, who was she to talk? She had more guns than she had friends - the bar was set pretty low to be honest.

“Says the woman running a business to rival mine out of this hell hole” Tommy snarked, looking across the scene set out before him - kids by the ragged school, smoke from the foundries. It was no place to run England’s cocaine supply from.

“But what a beautiful hell hole it is. This whole town knows me, Tommy.” Looking across the same scene, Jamie saw an entirely different situation. She saw lives, she saw a community that worked hard to get what it got and didn’t ask for more, a community that had done its best for her and her sister.

“Everyone knows me in England - your point?” Tommy asked, not understanding how or why she looked out upon the street with as much love and adoration that he would a horse.

“You wouldn’t get it. They look after me, Tommy, because I look after them.” Jamie reminded him - even though her business was on an international scale, she was very much still a small town girl.

“Aight bab? There’s a royce outside your house, you in trouble again? The kids ‘aven’t broken into it, but it’s only a matter a time” Came a voice, loud and burly from the doorstep of one of the back to backs. Jamie recognised it instantly and gave Tommy a look to tell him not to pull away and throw money at her out of fear.

“I’m alright, I’ll get them to move it, thank you. Tell Molly I said ‘Good luck with the baby’” She smiled, running a hand through her hair and nodding at the neighbour.  Being polite to the woman was essential - her four kids were rampant and eager for work, and she ran the gossip of Cradley. Least she needed was rumors about her or Linn going around.

“Will do” She nodded with a yellowed smile and headed back into the house, slamming the door behind her and leaving Jamie and Tommy parked outside the house. Tommy started to drive again, probably fearing that if he was parked too long that the ragged children would come tear his car apart.

“Who was that?” He asked out of interest, recognising the type from around Small Heath when he was a lad.

“Maevis. So, your brothers have left a car unattended outside my offices. Have to ask - are they insane?” Jamie laughed, wincing and grasping her hip. She looked over at him with a hum, waiting for the answer.

“Your sister let them” He pointed out, thinking that he had trumped her statement about his brothers - alas, like most times in his life, he was wrong.

“My sister is a sly devil when she wants to be. That’s her idea of a joke” Jamie told him, sighing softly as they drove towards the row of back to backs. It wasn’t on fire.

“Would have thought that was more your type of joke” He told her, driving through the tiny alleyway that she had instructed him to.

“Nah” Jamie shook her head, opening the car door as Tommy got out himself, gently grasping her hip as she tried to step out.

“Come on” Tommy hummed, offering a hand. He knew she’d struggle, and if she just accepted his help it would make the whole process go so much faster.

“I can get out on my own, Tommy, I’ve got a bad hip - I’m not senile!” Jamie told him, batting at his hand and then trying to get down again to no avail.

“Mhm, come on.” That fucking smirk.

“Fine.” Jamie took his hand begrudgingly, letting him gently lift her down with an arm around her waist and one holding her hand. She dropped his hand to close the car door and subtly turned out of his hold.

“If your brothers have turned my offices into a brummy shit tip already I’ll wring your neck, Thomas” Jamie told him sternly, walking around the back of the offices with him, taking his wrist gently to stop him from wandering.

“Pity, I’m not adverse to choking” Tommy sighed dramatically, adjusting her hold so that they were holding hands. God, he was so desperate for human touch.

“You, Thomas Shelby, are a mess. Can’t believe I’m going to knock on the door of my own fucking offices” She rolled her eyes, linking her fingers with his and knocking on the smal, concealed door. His hands were warm, and Cradley Heath was definitely not.

“When you were dying, it wasn’t a priority to get your keys and your handbag” He snarked, waiting with her happily - Jamie Leanne Pine was willingly holding his hand.

“I don’t have a handbag” Jamie told him with a hiss, the anxiety building up in her. Why wasn’t the fucking door opening?

“Jamie!” The door swung open to reveal the redhead in one of her favourite baby blue dresses, instantly throwing herself at her sister. Linn’s arms wrapped around her neck, holding her close.

“Oh, fucks sake, Linn. You’re alive” Jamie gasped, wrapping her arms around Linn’s waist, holding her close. The scent of her perfume brought her back into herself, making her stand back with a grin and walk in.

“Of course I am - come in, come in. Welcome again Thomas.” Linn smiled, noticing the change in her sister’s persona. Her mum, no, sister was well and truly back.

“You alright Linn?” Finn asked from the backroom, walking through, his cap on the hook in the cloakroom. He would be lying if he said working with Linn wasn’t the easiest thing in the world - she had been his best friend, sympathetic of his illiticism, and one of the smartest in their year.

“All good. Come meet my sister, Jamie” Linn called, turning into the hallway to call Finn through, giving Jamie and Tommy some space to breathe for a second. She heard Jamie close the door, and smiled as Finn stood by her side, instantly confronted by Jamie. Oh, no.

“Nice to meet you - surely Linn has warned you against even thinking about doing anything with the stock?” Jamie asked, shaking his hand with a nod. She had put on her big scary face for the new boy, and it seemed to have worked. She could practically see the piss running down his leg.

“Jamie, I have, so don’t threaten them. They’re okay.” Linn warned her quietly, silently begging Jamie not to do anything drastic.

“Yeah, Jamie, we’re okay” Tommy whispered in her ear with a smirk, having taken the opportunity when it arose.

“You’re on thin fucking ice, Thomas” Jamie told him, turning to him, her face only inches from his, staring him down.

“And she’s back” Linn commented, drawing them out of the situation and draining the uncomfortable levels of sexual tension.

After Jamie had settled back in and Tommy had left - not before he made sure that both Linn and Jamie could sufficiently dress wounds - the two sisters knew that there was something they would have to do. Which is how they ended up knocking on Samson’s door, ready for the ground to swallow them whole.

“Auntie Jamie! Auntie Linnie!” Anna’s voice called, hugging Jamie’s legs and then Linn’s. Linn hoisted her up onto her hip, saving Jamie explaining the wound - this wasn’t about their damages.

“Hello bab. Where’s your mum, eh?”

“In the kitchen! She’s making shepherds pie.” Anna pulled a sour face, resting her head on Linn’s shoulder, her blonde hair clashing against the fiery red that Linn wore so incredibly proudly.

“Alright. Are we allowed in?” Jamie asked softly, running a hand through her hair nervously. It wasn’t often that she was nervous, but Samson and his beautiful family? Yes. She would make sure that the children were looked after sufficiently.

“Yeah! Come on! Linnie, I wanna show you my dolls! One has red hair like you!” Anna beamed, letting Linn carry her through, Jamie walking behind them and closing the door.

“Aaliyah?” Jamie called softly, Linn and Anna going into the living room to play with the dolls so that the child was sufficiently distracted, enough not to hear Jamie and her mum talking about her father.

“Jamie, it’s nice of you to drop by, did I hear Linn as well?” Aaliyah appeared from the kitchen, daffodil print apron tied around her waist in a big bow. Light streamed through the doorway from the kitchen window, making her look ethereal. “I guess we need to talk, don’t we? Mr Shelby, he came to my doorstep, told me he was close to you and was holding my husband’s body in an appropriate funeral home until I decided what I wanted to happen with him. Your business is your business, Jamie, and don’t think I don’t’ respect you, because I do - but please be careful around such a charming man,”

“Mr Shelby hasn’t made me aware that he did that, though he has done everything in his power to help me in my time of vulnerability. I’ll be careful, thank you, Liyah. I know Samson is your only source of income at the minute, and so I’d like to continue that. We will continue to pay his wage in your name so that Anna and yourself can live as you would. I have already taken him from you, to take anything more would be… well, you understand. I hope there’s no bad blood between us?” Jamie asked, sitting at the kitchen table with Aaliyah.

“You have already done more than enough. You warned him this may happen, and God does work in mysterious ways, though this has left me wondering who God favours… to take such a wonderful man away at the hand of merciless killers…” Aaliyah trailed off, looking at the vase on the windowsill, the sunflowers not wilted yet.

“You know my perspective on it all, so I won’t unload it on you. What I will say is that you are still here, and Anna, she is still here. Look after eachother - obviously it will be a little one sided, because Anna is still just a starry eyed babe, but she will return it” Jamie told her “When I was a little younger than Linn, I took her as my own, and although it’s been hard, I do not regret a crust of bread that she had instead of I. You have us, you won’t ever have to worry about putting a roof over her head or food on the table. Let me know when you’ve decided what you want to do with Samson’s body, and we will fulfill it.”

“Of course I will look after her, she is my daughter - you know the feeling. If that’s all…” Aaliyah hummed, eyes watery. Her voice was wavering and Jamie knew when her leave was appreciated.

“It is. You know where we are if you should ever need or want anything. I have a feeling that Anna will have roped Linn into a complex game about killing the monarchy again,” Jamie laughed softly, lightening the mood with Anna’s tendency to fantasize about manslaughter.

“God knows where she gets that from, eh? Wants to be just like her aunties.” Aaliyah groaned jovially, standing and walking through to the living room.

“Well, you remind her that her Aunties only drink on occasion and never do any narcotics.” Jamie chided, following her through the hallway.

“Somehow I doubt she’ll believe that.”

[eldritchwyrm]

what goes around comes around (a fic for the glorious 25th of may)

The first time Lu-Tze learned of the Glorious People’s Republic of Treacle Mine Road was long before Sam Vimes got caught in a thunderstorm and was swept thirty years into the past. In fact, when Lu-Tze was young and light on his feet and had only just moved to Ankh-Morpork for the first time, he took a wrong turn and stumbled upon a narrative temporal phenomenon the likes of which he had never seen in his life.

He was picking up some groceries for Mrs. Cosmopolite, who was graciously allowing him lodging, because was it not written that What Goes Around Comes Around? He was also lost.

He tried asking random passerby for directions, but his attempts were all rebuffed with variants on “up yours, mister” and the slurs that were generally leveled at anyone who looked too foreign for their own good. So instead of turning onto the Pitts as she should have, he missed the intersection and continued straight ahead.

It was the 25th of May. Spring was battling valiantly against the smog and grime of the city, and contrary to all expectation the few shrubs that had survived were putting out green shoots.

Lu-Tze hitched up the bag of groceries and thought the sacred wisdom: My Joints Aren’t What They Used To Be. He was a bit young for that one, he reflected, but was not all wisdom valuable?

He turned onto Treacle Mine Road.

It was noon. Bright and sunny. The street was loud and busy with carts and animals and people, as you’d expect on any weekday. And yet as he walked forward, the sun dimmed. The air cooled. The hustle of the streets became muffled, farther away.

The scent of lilac filled in the air.

The hairs on his arms tingled like a storm was approaching.

He took a good look around, really looked rather than focusing on the unimportant surface bits, like the buildings and the people—and nearly choked on his own tongue.

This—this was—it was a disruption in the space-time continuum so extreme that it was a wonder anyone in the immediate vicinity was still alive. This was a rift so profound that rationally speaking, he should be standing in the equivalent of a smoking crater where a chunk of functional reality used to be.

There were no words to describe the wrongness of this place. You could say that the passage of time in this location was like a length of yarn which had been bundled into a ball and left unattended in a room full of eager-eyed kittens. (It would be blatantly incorrect, but you could definitely say that.)

“Ye gods,” said Lu-Tze, because some words always worked.

He ditched the groceries and started running.

He burst through the door of Mrs. Cosmopolite’s boarding house with a crash. The hostess jumped in surprise and nearly hit him over the head with the plate she was drying, but restrained herself, because that wasn’t Done. Instead she shouted, “Young man, just what do you think you’re doing?”

“No time!”

If he’d stopped to think properly he would have realized how stupid a statement that was, but he was busy racing up the stairs and into his room. He grabbed his emergency supply pack from under the bed and dashed out again.

There were images in his head that didn’t make sense—darkness and rain and a silver cigar case, gleaming on the cobbles, and lilacs blooming in the night, over and over again.

When he returned to Treacle Mine Road he knelt down in the middle of the street, right in the middle of traffic, and the carts moved smoothly around him without a blink, despite their relocation occasionally involved a minor rewriting of the conventional laws of physics. He barely noticed. He found a bare patch of dirt and got to work. He would be hard-pressed to construct a sophisticated detection mandala on such short notice, but he would damn well make do...

The air crackled with energy as he finished the last curve on the mandala. He dusted his hands and waited.

It began to turn.

The patterns shifted, then stilled.

He frowned. “No,” he said. “That can’t be right.  Historical imperative? But this is so obviously a narrative disruption. An unfinished story.”

A rift in time that didn’t exist, memories of events that never happened... it had to be a result of an incomplete narrative unable to achieve a single resolution. Something, somewhen, had gone wrong, and a major role had gone unfulfilled, and now the phenomenon was scrabbling for a solution.

“Must be incorrectly set up,” he muttered to himself. “I mean, this thing is telling me there should be a major temporal incident any moment now—”

Unfortunately, the young Lu-Tze had not yet learned some valuable wisdom. For is it not written that You Are So Sharp You'll Cut Yourself?

There was a sound like an elastic band snapping, and the world turned sideways.

He stumbled upright once the universe had returned to something close to normal and scrambled to get his bearings. He was still in the present day, but another time was—how to describe it, how to describe it—layered on top, one moment falling over the other like snow. Fog and wind and darkness swirled in, obscuring the sky, wreathing around the figures in the courtyard before him.

The men were wearing Watch uniforms.

“Okay, lads,” said one of the men. He had an eyepatch and a battered breastplate, and a voice that echoed as if it was coming from very far away. Years ago, thought Lu-Tze. “What we’re going to do is keep the peace. That’s our job...”

If Lu-Tze concentrated, he could still feel the rush of wind from the passing street and hear the sound of the busy city. But here, in a much more real sense, he could see the watchmen shuffling anxiously as they listened to the sergeant-at-arms. He talked about duty and right and wrong, and then he drew a line in the sand, and then the men made their choice.

History struck a chord.

The world shifted.

A barricade climbed into the air, higher and higher, packed with furniture and upturned carts and spare wood, held up by desperate hope and bottomless fear, the rawest emotions of humanity. When sufficiently concentrate, those were capable of twisting time into knots so complex that only a master of the temporal would ever be able to undo them.

And why would they want to? So what if someone thought it was odd that time crawled by while they were under stress, or if it went by instantly during a fun afternoon? That was what made people human. 

That sound again, and the world changed again—

A battle was raging around him. Men in battered uniforms, not many, fighting for their lives, wearing the lilac...

...the man with the eyepatch leapt forward, sword a blur in his hands, hacking wildly...

...and across the street, untouched by the carnage, was a little old man in a robe. He was sweeping peacefully at a patch of dust, undisturbed by the blood and guts and destruction whirling around him. It was surreal.

The old man looked up and winked.

Time stood still.

(Well, it didn’t really stand still, but the true answer involved multivariable calculus and besides, it was a useful metaphor and at this moment in time Lu-Tze was not the type to spend valuable effort messing about with the sneaky kind of sums with letters in them.)

The old sweeper carefully plodded across the frozen tableau, ducking under an upraised sword and stepping around the body of a watchman who had not yet hit the ground.

Ah, so another monk was on the problem, then? The young time-traveler stood up straight and tried to act like this was an expected development.

“Hey, kid,” said the sweeper. “You look like you could use a cup of tea.”

* * *

Lu-Tze was convinced that this particular branch of the No Such Monastery did not exist in the present day, which made it quite worrying that it appeared to exist in both the past and the future.

He sipped his tea with yak butter and eyed the old sweeper suspiciously. He distrusted older authority figures on principle.

“So you spotted the incongruity, did you,” said the sweeper. “Historical imperative’s a tricky thing, isn’t it.”

“It’s not historical imperative. It’s narrative causality.”

The sweeper sighed. “You’ve got a lot to learn, kiddo. It’s both. The Glorious People’s Republic of Treacle Mine Road... it didn’t take long for the city to forget, but the story still leaves echoes. It wants to be remembered.”

The young man frowned. “I kept having memories of things that never happened. Deja vu without the original vu.”

“Sounds pretty standard. Lilacs, right? You smelled the lilacs? That’s the anchor. On the Glorious 25th of May, the lilacs are in bloom. They will always be in bloom, forever and ever, for as long as time exists, and whenever the survivors see it, they’ll be brought back here. Even poor sods like you with receptive enough minds will be saddled with this piece of history.”

“But this doesn’t mean anything to me. I don’t understand why a bunch of men would just get themselves killed like that just—just to be heroes.” Lu-Tze knew a dramatic last stand when he saw one.

“Yeah, see, that’s 'cos you’re seventeen and I’m old and wise,” said the sweeper. “Why do we fix time? Is it because we want to be heroic? Is it because we have to? No, we do it because we could just let time curl in on itself and extinguish all the complicated bits like sentient life, but we decide to make fixing this mess our job.”

“But—alright, fine, but there’s still a gigantic rift in reality and I’m standing in it. What are you going to do about it?”

“Nothing.”

“What?”

“You heard me. There’s no reason to muck about with a story that’s looking to be told. This case is unusual, mostly ‘cause it’s a bit under-construction if you know what I mean, but yea, is it not written that There’s A First Time For Everything?”

The young time-traveler sat bolt upright. “You—you’re a follower of the Way? But none of the senior monks—it’s just a thing that I made up so—I mean—”

The sweeper shook his head sadly. “Hoo boy. I really am paying for how much of an idiot back then. I suppose What Goes Around Comes Around.”

The young history monk’s eyes widened, realization dawning. He opened his mouth to speak, but the old man interrupted him. “Now, this is slightly more complicated than a standard closed time loop, since you’re not here in any physical sense. So if I just...”

He slashed his hand through the air. The air began to sing with mounting tension, time itself groaning under the weight, and the world snapped back to the present.

The city streets bustled around him. Lu-Tze's mouth was slack with shock. Had that really been...?

He looked down at the mandala he had scrawled in the dirt. The wind had scrubbed it out.

Overhead, the lilacs were in bloom.

[lassluna]

Freeing the Witch (3/20)

beta read by @notoriouscs

Once Upon a Time, there was Emma Swan the Savior and Killian Jones the fearsome pirate Captain Hook. But this is not that time, this is not that place, this is the time of the Dark Swan and a cowardly Deckhand who dares to think he could save her and live to tell the tale…Especially when things get complicated.

ffn Ao3

Chapter 3

The Plight of a Sailor

This is a suicide mission. He knew that before he'd agreed to take her out of port. Sailing her alone was hard enough. Had he been any other member of her crew, it couldn't be done. But this was the Jewel. He knew every nook and cranny, every little quirk, every dent. He lived his entire life on this ship, under vastly different captains for sure, but she is his home.

Why did he agree to this?

The Captain is going to banish him, fire him. He will never again set foot on the Jewel, that is if he survives. The Captain once cut off the hands off a pirate who flirted with his woman. He made Killian quake in terror, and that was before he met her, the Dark Swan, before he hurt the guard, before he had made himself an enemy of the crown.

Killian doesn't know what he's feeling, other than sick. His head throbs, and he wants to curl up and scream. Sure, he had saved her. , he doesn't regret his actions, but still, he had hurt someone.

He's back on the Jewel at least. Maybe the familiar environment will provide some sort of comfort, even if it wasn't home to the most pleasant of memories lately.

He bandages his right hand clumsily with his left. The slash from where he held the dagger was long and deep along his palm, dripping blood on the Captain's table. While he is used to bandaging his own wounds, it isn't often that he has to do it one-handed.

He's not going to be happy when I get back , Killian shivered. And not just about the blood.

"Hey pirate, have any good rum in this boat?" asked the woman prancing in, interrupting his thoughts. He picks up his head to look at her, jaw dropping slightly.

Instead of the ratty blue dress she had been wearing, she'd stolen a pale yellow shirt from one of the cabins. It hangs far too low on her chest for his comfort. Beneath it, she is wearing brown leather pants, and over it, a dark blue leather vest that hugs her body more tightly than he thinks he can handle. Her hair looks tamer, held behind her head by a piece of rope. Her eyes are as wild as ever, just trained on him. She licked her lips slyly, obviously teasing him for staring. He averts his eyes, not wanting to appear rude.

Get it together, Jones.

"I haven't had a drink in months!" She prances past him, eyeing the Captain's liquor cabinet greedily.

"I w-wouldn't touch that!" he exclaims in near panic, reaching forward to stop her. There was nothing the captain hated more than someone touching his liquor. And if she does, he will surely be blamed.

His complaint falls on deaf ears, as she's already hunched over, hastily riffling through them bottles. He hears them clink together as she searches. "The Captain doesn't like it when someone messes with his rum," he tries once more.

She stands up, a bottle of amber colored rum in one hand, the other hand placed firmly on her hip as she looks at it skeptically. "Cheap stuff…" she mumbles unhappily, before her eyes shoot back to him. Killian shifts uncomfortably.

There is something about her eyes, those emerald eyes, that makes him feel exposed.

There is something about her that makes him feel like she is about to consume him on the spot.

"I thought you were the captain of this ship?" she questions. He feels his face turn red as he averts his eyes, choosing to focus on his cut hand rather than her, rather than on the fact that he isn't the captain she expected. He wishes he were though. He wishes the Jewel were sailing under his command and under her proper name.

"Ah…well…" he mumbles, trying to find the words. Her eyes lock on his, and in one quick movement, she steps closer and yanks his hand toward her face. He yelps in surprise. With a simple pull, she removes the bandages that he spent the last twenty minutes tying. His cut shoots pain up his arm. Killian bites his tongue, trying to keep at least a bit of his pride.

She smirks at his unsuccessful attempt at a brave face. She pours something on his hand. It stings painfully, and he tries to pull his hand back. He can't. It's trapped in her grip.

"What the hell is that?" he nearly shouts. It feels like she just set his hand ablaze!

"Rum," she informs him. "And a waste of it." She places the bottle on the desk (after a quick sip, of course), then wraps a new bandage around his hand, much more securely than he had managed. She releases his grip as soon as she finishes, reaching for a second gulp of rum. She takes a seat in the Captain's chair, putting her feet up on his desk.

"Now talk. Who are you? How did you know I was up there?"

The unspoken threat spins in her eyes. Not answering is not an option.

"Killian Jones," he introduces himself proudly, something he should have done earlier. He would have berated him for his bad form in inviting a woman onto the ship without at least telling her his name. But he' s not here.

"Not the captain," she adds, attempting to hand him the bottle. He refuses quickly out of habit.

It was often a trap, the other sailors trying to get him hammered for entertainment at his expense. Eventually he learned to say he was allergic, though truthfully, he just can't hold his liquor.

"No. Not the captain," he agrees darkly. Killian doesn't like to be reminded of that. "Nor the lieutenant, nor…any reputable position." She raises a brow but says nothing.

"As for how I knew you were there, everyone in the realm knows that. It's not a secret, I'm afraid." She doesn't look phased by the admission that her imprisonment was public knowledge, that everyone knew but no one else came to her rescue. "A stranger asked me to free you. I refused, not having a ship of my own, nor the skills required." He remembers leading the stranger to his captain's cabin, hearing whispers, and then the Captain ordering him inside.

"But the offer became something I could not refuse," Killian explained vaguely. "Not if I value my life." She chuckles, crossing her arms.

"Someone threatened to kill you if you didn't come save me? I doubt it," she huffs. "Try again," she says ominously, waving a mass of darkness in her palm. No stated threat is needed.

He shrugs, backing away. "Not in so many words," he corrects quickly. "And nothing so bloodthirsty. He just made it extremely difficult for me to return to my life unless I bring you back."

She tenses, gripping the rum bottle, her magic flickering from her other hand as quickly as she conjured it. "Make no mistake, love, you are not my prisoner, not that I could keep you if I wanted. He just wants to meet you in our port."

She smiles slyly, rising from her chair. She appears to find something he said amusing. She is stepping toward him, getting dangerously close. "And do you, not-captain Jones? Want me?" she purrs.

Killian, backed into the wall, turns red, visibly scrambling for a respectful, yet not insinuating reply. His discomfort makes her laugh wildly, her hand brushing against his arm.

"I…er…well…" he steps around her, nearly tripping on his feet. He can't think of an appropriate response.

"I have to go man the helm. I've left it unattended far too long," he excuses, relieved when she lets him pass.

"Fine Jones, ruin all my fun. I'll figure you out eventually," she says. "In the meantime, I think a celebration is in order!" He doesn't look back to see what that means. He assumes drinking and messing with the Captain's things.

That lass is trouble. He just needs to stay strong, resist her until they reach port. Then she'll be on her way, and hopefully, the Captain won't decide to kill him.

That's all he can hope for.

By the time he reaches the helm and grips the wheel, his tension is already easing. He remembers learning to sail when he was but a lad, running around the deck bothering all the sailors with questions. He had been happy then. He had been so happy.

Killian's thoughts wander to her, the Dark Swan. Had she been happy once? Had she been free? Legend and lore told of villages she slayed, people she took in the dead of night, manipulating their hearts and souls only to kill them in front of their loved ones.

The stories never spoke of how she walks with confidence, how she commands attention, how she wields a weapon. The tales never captured how angry and hurt she was in the tower, how brilliantly she fought for freedom.

He had once said that a woman worth having was a woman who fought for what she wanted, never interested in those who let men tell them who they were. Killian still remembers the times he would be out courting a woman, his true love according to the man. Killian heard that the love was forbidden, but he never cared. He was a pirate and pirates took what they wanted.

If he had been here, he wouldn't have backed away from the Dark One's challenge.

But Killian isn't him.

So when the Dark One asked him what he wanted, he couldn't answer. He couldn't tell her, because he didn't know. He isn't even brave enough to know in his heart what he wants, let alone to take it.

Killian is a bloody coward.

A noise makes him look up from the spot on the deck he was staring a hole through.

"What the-." His words die in his throat as someone reach into his chest.

"Oooh. Let's see what we've got here."

[namjoonchronicles]

[After Ending] #2 Scarlet Heart: Moon Lovers 3rd Prince - Prince Wang Yo ; [Prince of Thorns]

[A/N] Would you look at that. My baby-daddy. Hotness.

“Is she getting any better at all with these drugs?” You whined. The nurse gave a lopsided smile, “...It’s hard to say. Dr. Jeong doesn’t seem too happy when he reviewed the early case today, or maybe we’ve misinterpreted his expression. Did you turn him down again?” The nurse joked. Your mom gave you a hopeful face. She has always wanted you to marry a doctor but for some reason, you’re not ready to spent lonely nights.

“Let’s not get hopeful for no reason…” you turned to your mother with both your eyebrows raised, “...And he’s just gloomy because he knows what my answers are. He needs to calm the fish down.” You glanced to the nurse.

Noon classes started but everyone understood why you’re late. It doesn’t surprise anyone anymore. You were constantly late. It was the only class you had to seat without your best friend. All because you failed it last semester. And it’s not that you don’t understand the lessons, it was just time consuming and irrelevant, in your defense. The only good thing about the class is that there’s this gorgeously cute, Byun Hwang Eun and you’re stupidly in love with him. And there he is, looking down on his note, twirling the pen in his long pretty fingers. Looking sinfully handsome in plain white shirt, and torned jeans. His hair is chestnut brown and all over the place, but heck, don’t he look ravishingly, radiant?

“If there’s a prince in this world, they should look at least, half as good as he is.” You mewled, propping your elbow, to rest your chin on.

And as you imagined him and you, holding hands, skipping with the rainbows behind you, he snapped his head in your direction and you suddenly heard your name being called. “Your phone is ringing.” Your lecturer reminded you and rushed your hand into your pocket and fish them out while passing Hwang Eun a sweet smile as you walked down the stairs, “Flirt with you later.” You brazenly say, earning a chuckle from your classmates. You didn’t see it, but Eun should be grinning ear to ear by now.

“Hello. What’s up.” You said, leaning by the nearest vending machine when a junior was trying to purchase a canned coffee, you glared at him, holding your phone, “Do you mind?” And he scrammed away. “Calling from Seoul’s Appraisers Main Office, how soon would you like to be appraised?” The female from the other end said.

“Oh, I’m not for sale.” You said, mindlessly. “Yes, miss...Human trafficking is illegal, and we haven’t appraised humans since The Joseon Women remains were found back in 2011, Professor Jong Seok emailed us regarding a jewelry you owned, so we would like to know when you want it to be appraised, and by who?” This lady was keeping her professional tone while you were almost fainting laughing at your stupidity. “...Sorry,” you snorted, clearly haven’t gotten over the unattended joke you just created, “...I just. Right.” You cleared your throat and try to be serious for once.

“...I’m not sure what his name was, but, I think it’s Yeo, something.” You shake your head, pushing your hair back. “...Wang Il Yeo, is it?” She mentioned and it has a familiar bell to it, so you figured, “Yes. Yeah.It sounds like it.” You said.

“Unfortunately, Mr. Wang Il Yeo is out of the country until next month, we will contact you once he is available…” She sounded as if she’s ready to hang up the call. “But wait, don’t you have other appraisers working there, who isn’t as busy?” You hurried to say, “I don’t have a month to wait.” You added. The surgery is bound the 15th of this month. You only have days.

“We will call you.” She said and hung up. And it was just then, Yeo came to his office. “I’ll head straight to the basement to appraise Dr. Kim’s acrylic one piece, so I won’t be meeting any clients after 2pm, alright?” He taps twice on the desk and unbuttoned his suit. The female assistant of his nodded with a polished smile. “Understood, sir.” She affirmatively replied. Her partner who was sitting next to her, “I want your boss.” She suggestively eyed Yeo’s attractive back side, who’s walking farther down the hallway.

“Calm your tits, so does everyone else.” She glides her eyes to the side. “I’ve just finished a phone call with a possible female stalker. This one, actually sounded very convincing. But my inner instinct goes off with the mention of her name, and so I kicked her out of the park, saying the boss isn’t here to entertain her, when he actually is.” She batted her lashes, proud of what she had done.

Camera flashes. Roller chairs, leather gloved hands, impressive focus and skillful work. A Buddhist monk, standing with his hand pointed outward, his lips curved into a blinding smile. “...The crown is highly detailed, and the flower crown on his lap suggests that the piece is probably carved between 160 to 175 B.C. Actual time of creation can only be accurately determined with carbon dating, but the process may damage the specimen. As the owner understood.” Yeo spoke to the voice recorder he held in his hand, while keeping his sharp gaze on the piece.

Zooming in through his expensive camera, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, he only had his dress shirt on, the top two buttons left unbuttoned for his comforts. His pitch black hair compliments his dark brown orbs. And one could agree if an attractive piece of art is appraising another piece of art. His face was incomparable. His impressive heights is something else, too. The images loaded to the laptop next to him, and he rolls his chair to check it. He takes off his gloves to run his beautiful long fingers on the pads. A few emails entered, but he hovered his eyes to the screen, forever focusing on his work. He spends hours on it. Even forgetting to eat. He never once bothered to have lunch with anybody, so he had his Subway sandwiches delivered to him by his assistant. His phone had been vibrating, but he threw nothing more than a uninterested glance on it before resuming his work.

Out of thin curiosity, Yeo typed ‘Wang Yeo’ in the search bar of his web browser. Then he looks away to the statue he was appraising, nonchalantly, wondering if he is missing any part to appraise. Maybe he will look for it, a little late. All the focusing had made his head spin. He should have scrolled down those raunchy selfies his ‘girlfriends’ sent him, but he wasn’t in the mood. He blinks, and hung his head down, before turning to the laptop screen. “...Wang Yeo is the 3rd prince to King Taejo, and he reign from 945 to 949 A.D.” And then he pauses, “...so he’s real?”

He went to read about the descendants, the stories and tragedies that happened within the Goryeo dynasty and was deep into the revelations when he was interrupted by his grumbling stomach. He took the elevator to the upper floor and though he intended to go to first floor, the elevator stops on the ground level, and when it opens, he heard a commotion. “No, I need to just talk to the appraisers right now… You said they’re here, and I can go meet them, why are you stopping me like this.” A female voice coursed through the halls and Yeo was intrigued, and due to his curiosity, poked his head out the doors to see who it was.

This girl who looks rather frail to be holding you this tight, proves that looks may deceive. You just wanted to see one appraiser, didn’t matter who it was. You desperately need it done today, so you could sell the jewellery. “Okay, what the hell is going on!” Yeo roared through the halls, marching straight to the front desk where his assistant stood. A card left abandoned on the floor and because Yeo hates litters in his office, he picks it up and read his own name on it. “...I told you we will give you a call when he’s free.”

You yanked your hand out of her grasp, forcefully. “...You keep repeating your words, I can’t even trust you anymore. I came to see this Wang Yeo person,” you were intruded by this tall lad, whose face you didn’t look at properly, “...Wang Il Yeo.” He corrected and you resumed, “Yes. Wang Il Yeo guy, and when you say he’s out of the country, I said, fine… get me another appraiser, and you’re just taking way too long, and I’m desperate need of an appraiser. This is an emergency.” You stabbed the desk with your index finger, demanding her to listen to you. “Did she call for an appointment?” Yeo glanced to his assistant.

“...Yes. But she didn’t seem serious.” She replied and you gawked at her. “Unbelievable.” You cussed. “Excuse me, I’m going to find myself a gawd damn appraiser.” You snatched your shoe box from the desk and starts walking away. “I’m Wang Il Yeo, I’ll do your appraising.” He said suddenly and you turned to face him. He moves his head to you and like his, your eyes glint in undeniable familiarity.

“Umbrella guy!” You cried and he drops his head and smiled.

He took you down to his basement office and turned the lights on, and you could see all the other artworks he was doing appraisals on. “...You were. Heavily occupied and here I was, bickering on.” Yeo didn’t seem to mind that, he was foolishly smiling all the while since he met you and even he, found it odd. “...What piece are you working on, currently?” You asked, careful to keep your hands on your bag straps. “The Dr. Kim’s Golden Monk.” He answered. “It’s halfway done.”

You nodded, understanding it. “...And it totals up to how much so far?” He shrugged, “Possibly 10 to 12 million Won.”

Your jaws hang open. Which reminded you, you haven’t asked…

“How much is your service?” You blurted out almost too suddenly, he almost stumbled upon nothing. He was just going across the room to get his tools, and with you asking that auspiciously intimate question (at least, he perceived it as intimate), he was literally unprepared. His hand quickly flew to the back of his neck, and rubbing it, he could feel his face heating up, praying to Lord it isn’t showing much.

“If you put it that way, it sounds...wrong. We call it, appraising service, so it’ll help if you added the word ‘appraise’ into the question, that it would be considered appropriate, but,” he starts blabbering in a quick pace until he realize what he was doing that he held his tongue to a pause, and breathes in, “...it depends.” He lied.

You peered at him, signifying that you noticed the hesitation in his voice. “On what.” You shot back, flipping through his notes brazenly, inspecting his work space with your wolf eyes. And when he realizes he did not have an answer to that, (because he usually charge a standard 300,000 Won per case or by hours he worked on them), he spat out, “260.”

“Two hundred sixty, won?” You asked. He half nodded, half shook his head, “...Thousand.”

Your jaw dropped again. “Do I get to sleep with you why does it cost so much, do I get to see pandas?” You blurted without thinking. And Yeo just stood there, his eyes were shaking and it was the first time in his life that he felt...intimidated. You held your mouth to what you just said, when it registered in you that you’ve just mention a horrendous thing to a stranger that you’ve just met. You snapped in his direction. “Forget what I just say.” You hurried to say, eyes wide, nostrils flaring, something stuck in your throat as you carried your item, “...Let me take my shoebox home.” You forced out a stringent smile and lunged for the door but before your short legs could get you there, you heard him say, “...Hold on, what why?”

You turned your heels to face him. Looking at the floor where he stood, and drifted your eyes every where but to his, you stammered, “...I-I. I can’t afford you.” You nodded, in a an awkward way. “...I cannot. Afford your service. Your appraisal service.” You corrected. And then you were back in your way, and when your hand gripped the handle to the door, you heard his footsteps halted just a metre from you, and he said.

“I won’t charge you…” He shot, in a hurry. “I’ll do it without charging you.”

You were back on the side of his tall stool, amorously watching him work. He had his black leather gloves on, he placed his magnifying glass close to his side, and you brought the shoe box on his work desk. “Why were you so desperately wanting it to be appraised?” He asked, his voice sounded very professional and you were just drawn to the sexiness of its tone that it took you awhile to answer. You mentally scold yourself for being so distractible. “Umm. Just.” You shrugged. “I wanted to sell it. It means nothing to me, and it has been in the family for so long, and we couldn’t find a purpose for it, so I guess, I’m selling it, so we won’t starve.” You pursed your lips. You clearly didn’t have the sense of longing to it, so it was easy for you to say.

Yeo opened the shoebox with extra care, not wanting to damage any of it before making a thorough inspection. And here you are, thinking that the shoebox had been dropped while you wait for the bus to get here, almost left behind when you were leaving for class this morning and floated above the pond in your college because a kid was playing with it. Maybe it’s not worth any money anymore, and you probably be wasting this handsome mans’ time for appraising a worthless dime. You were already anxious. You studied his face, taking the full opportunity to ogle on his beautiful features while he’s working.

Can anyone be born, this gorgeous? Look at that tall bridge of a cute nose. Everything about him screams wealth. I wonder how much money he makes. Must be quite plenty, because look at that wrist watch. How many ladies is he courting? Ten? Twenty?

No rings. Long fingers. Long slender fingers. Oh what those fingers can do to a girl.

“Excuse me?” You heard him say, he glided his eyes away from the magnifying glass and to you. You perked both eyebrow because you didn’t hear what he said. “...Everything okay? This job can get a little boring. Why don’t you wait outside, maybe you’ll be comfortable there…” He smiled, and added a chuckle. “Oh no I’m staying here. It’s much more fun here, looking at you…” You blinked in surprised to what just came out of you, “...Looking at this…” you glanced to the only piece of frame hanging on his wall, “That. Thing. There… so magnificent.” You corrected yourself, praying that he just skipped the whole ogling thing. He turned to see what you meant and he chuckles, dropping his head then glances to you, “That’s a calendar. Two years ago.” He said.

“Is it considered, antique?” You knew you didn’t make any sense but who the hell cares now. He was spending awful 30 minutes on the box containing the hairpin alone and you just wanted to tell him there’s another thing he needs to look at besides those box. Sure, dragon carvings on decadent oak is astonishing, but there’s a more important thing. If only you could lay your head on this desk of his, you could view his face better. Would it be too obvious, if you did?

Next: (Final)