#I finished this pretty late so I'm sorry for any typos

[chahnniesroom]

hoju (home)

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: even though chan has been living in korea for so many years, he still considers australia to be home. when he finally has the opportunity to go back and visit, he can't wait to bring you along and introduce you to the people and places that he grew up with.

word count: 4.3k

warnings: none :)

a/n: hoju (호주) is the korean word for australia.

this was a request from my sweet 🦦 anon! thank you for the inspiration, i had fun writing this and i hope that it meets your expectations. sorry that i did not write this in chan's pov 😅 as usual, please let me know if there are any typos or mistakes because i didn't have the chance to proofread 🥲

read it on ao3 | masterlist

Chan has been acting strange lately. Not enough that you're worried, just a little bit suspicious. He's never tried to hide what tabs he has open on his phone before and he's looked deep in thought quite a few times, but when you ask what he's thinking of, he changes the topic quickly. You're curious, but trust that Chan will talk to you when he's ready. Still, you can't quite ignore all of the changes in behaviour.

It's the same tonight. When you look up during dinner, Chan's just stirring around the noodles in his plate, only taking a bite every so often. You frown, trying to think of if you've done anything differently to prepare the food in a way that he doesn't like, but it tastes the same to you as usual. You rule out a lack of appetite, as he had just commented that he was starving while you were cooking.

“Is everything okay?” you ask hesitantly, after a few more minutes have passed.

“What?” Chan looks up, startled by the sound of your voice. “Oh no, everything's fine! Just… thinking.”

“Is it about work? Did something happen?” You know that Chan has been busier than usual this month, the boys have some time off in a few weeks and everybody is scrambling to get things finished in the meantime. You've also requested vacation at work, although so far you and Chan haven't planned anything. In fact, he's been a little bit cagey when you've brought up the topic. You try not to think much of it and really, it's just nice to be able to spend extra time together.

Honestly, you wouldn't be surprised if Chan has found out that his break has been cut short or even cancelled. It's rare that they’re able to have more than a few days off at a time which is why you had been so shocked when Chan had let you know that they didn't have schedules for a period of almost three weeks.

It would provide an explanation to everything that you've observed the past few days, you know that he would try his best to fix things before he had to tell you the bad news.

“Well-”

“It's okay if you found out you can't take time off,” you reassure him. “I understand that it's all up to the company and sometimes they change their mind at the last minute. I can just let my work know and take my vacation another time, I'm sure they might even be happy if I'm still around next month.”

“No!” Chan says, his eyes wide in panic. “We still have time off! Don't worry about that. It's actually- How would you feel about visiting Australia with me?”

It's your turn to stare at Chan in shock.

“Australia?”

“Yeah, it's been a while since I went back and-” Chan breaks eye contact, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “I thought it'd be nice if I could introduce you to my family, in person.”

“You want me to meet your family? In Australia?” you repeat, dumbly.

“Only if you feel comfortable!” Chan says hurriedly. “I looked into tickets, but didn't book anything yet so it's totally up to you. I also wanted to check if my family was available beforehand and it's pretty good timing actually. If you don't want to, then it's totally fine, I'll probably go for either way and I think Felix is also considering it. It's just that we've been together for a while now and I've met your family and I know that my mom basically considers you to be her daughter-”

“I want to go,” you interrupt, not wanting Chan to spiral further. “I was just surprised, I guess, but of course I want to accompany you.”

Chan brightens at that, then grabs his computer, unlocking it and opening up a spreadsheet. As it loads, he reaches for his chopsticks and takes a huge bite of food. You can't help but smile fondly at the sight of his cheeks bulging with food as he chews, relieved that his appetite is back.

“I didn’t want to get too far ahead of myself, but I was looking at flights, and I think that if we leave on a Tuesday, it might be best. It means we can enjoy the weekend here and still have time to pack everything,” he explains excitedly. “It'll be less busy at the airport too, which will be nice, and it works out well with my parents’ schedules anyway.”

You hum in acknowledgement, content to follow along and take mental notes as Chan reads out everything else that he's thought of so far. He continues planning for the rest of the evening, trailing behind you as you clean up and do your nightly routine, only stopping to help you when you do the dishes and put away the laundry. It's cute how animated he becomes, putting together a long list of all the sites and restaurants that he wants to show you.

You can tell that he's still thinking of it as the two of you curl up in bed that night, every so often you feel him jolt behind you and turn to reach for the little pad of paper and pencil that he often keeps on his nightstand.

Eventually, you turn over and squint at him. He doesn't even pretend to be asleep.

“Hi,” he whispers. “Sorry if I'm keeping you awake.”

“Sleep,” you murmur tiredly. “We have lots of time to plan, get some rest for now and we can talk more tomorrow.”

Chan starts to protest, but you just nuzzle closer, pulling his hands to wrap around you. As you drift off to sleep, you can feel that Chan has finally relaxed too.

—

The two of you spend the first day of break slowly, sleeping in and having a lazy meal of bibimbap from all the banchan taking up space in your fridge. You only venture out of the apartment for dinner, going to your favourite local restaurant that you visit so often that the owner starts making your meals the second that the two of you step through the door. The next couple of days are also easygoing, consisting of shopping, watching dramas, and eventually preparing for your trip.

Throughout the drive to the airport and making your way through security and to your gate, you can tell Chan's a bit on edge even though you and Felix try to assure him that everything will be fine. The three of you are in incognito mode, wearing hats, face masks, and plain clothes but Chan’s still scanning your surroundings the whole time. You, on the other hand, can't help but be excited, bouncing at his side so much that he loops his arm over your shoulders to try and calm you down. Felix is more relaxed and laughs at the stark contrast between the both of you, even filming parts of it since he’s getting footage for a vlog. Luckily you know that any content with you in it is likely to be edited out and don’t bother to hide your eagerness.

While Chan is used to travelling often for concerts and other overseas schedules, you've rarely visited places outside of Korea and have certainly never flown business class. You squeeze Chan's hand when you see your seats, thrilled at the idea of having so much leg room and a divider between the two of you that can also be fully lowered. It keeps you entertained for the whole time before the plane takes off, taking pictures together and reclining your seat up and down until the seatbelt sign turns on.

The flight is over 10 hours, so it doesn't take long before you move your attention to browsing the menu that's available and scrolling through all of the movies on the in-flight entertainment system. Shortly after the dinner meal is served, you start to doze off. Wanting to make the most of the experience, you insist to Chan that you'll be able to stay awake to watch another movie with him, but only make it through the first 30 minutes before you wake up to a dark screen.

You blink up blearily as a flight attendant starts making their way through the aisles, handing out customs forms for everyone to fill out. When you receive yours, you stare at it for a few seconds before realising the problem is not the fact that you're still adjusting to being awake.

“Oh no,” you whisper in horror, causing Chan to glance over at you, concerned.

“What happened?” he asks.

“I didn’t think about practising English before this trip,” you reply, distress leaking into your voice. “The last time that I wrote anything in English was when I was in secondary school… I'm not going to survive in Australia!”

“Hey, it's not an issue, I'll be with you the whole time! You don't have to worry about any of that. And you know enough conversational English to get by, I know you do,” Chan says soothingly.

You refuse to be comforted, burying your face into your hands.

“How am I going to face your parents when I barely know anything other than ‘hi, how are you?’” you moan. “I'm not even going to make it through customs! They're going to arrest me when I can't answer any of their questions!”

You know that you're exaggerating, but it makes Chan laugh so hard that tears gather in the corners of his eyes. You try to keep up your act, but end up dissolving into laughter too at the way that Chan is trying so hard to stay quiet, not wanting to bring attention to you two.

Contrary to your fears, you manage to deplane, get through customs, and collect your luggage without any major issues. You had a moment of anxiety when Chan and Felix split up from you since you have to go into the lineup for foreign passports, but you are somehow able to fumble your way through the conversation with the border officer without being detained.

Felix splits up with you shortly after, you see that his tiredness from the long flight melts away the second that he sees his family. He gives you and Chan both a quick hug to say goodbye before running out to meet them.

Chan lights up in a similar way when he finally spots his parents. They're waiting in the pick-up zone and waves the two of you over quickly. You barely get the chance to say hi before Chan’s mother is enveloping you into a hug.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you,” she says warmly. “Come on, let’s take you home.”

The drive is fairly short and it feels like no time at all before you’re approaching the house. The second that the front door opens, you hear a distinctive scrabble of claws against hardwood before Berry shoots towards Chan, tail wagging furiously. Chan immediately kneels down to give her better access, laughing when she stands on her hind legs to lick at his face.

Once she’s finished with that, she turns to you, barking curiously before moving closer. You stick out a hand for her to get an idea of your scent and try not to jump when you feel the cool, damp press of her nose against your palm. Whatever Berry smells, she approves of, giving you a few quick licks before running back to Chan.

“She’s so cute!” you exclaim, pulling out your phone so that you can take a picture of the reunion. You don't think that Chan even hears you, caught up in talking to Berry, giving her kisses and allowing her to do the same.

“I'll help you with your bags,” Chan's father says from beside you, easily lifting them out of your hands and motioning for you to enter the house. You exchange greetings with both of Chan's siblings as you remove your shoes, familiar with them through video calls and the one time that you met Hannah when she was travelling in Korea.

Chan’s family recently moved so this was also Chan’s first time seeing the house in person, the two of you trailing behind Chan’s father as he gave you a brief tour of the first floor before leading you upstairs. When you get to the guest room that you'll be staying in, Hannah pops her head in.

“Chris doesn’t spend enough time in Australia to have his own room in this house, so you guys are in this room.” She eyes you for a moment and based on the mischievous smile that’s growing, you can guess what she’s about to say. “Y/n, if you get sick of him, then feel free to stay with me instead!”

“Hey!” Chan complains, not even looking up from where he’s unpacking his bag. He grabs onto one of his shirts and chucks it at Hannah, but she easily dodges, throwing one of her slippers at him in retaliation. It hits Chan right in the chest and he looks at her in disbelief. He abandons his task in favour of chasing her throughout the house. You don't follow after, but you hear as their yelling and laughter echoes through the halls.

It’s refreshing to see Chan at home, no matter how comfortable Chan is with the rest of the kids, he’s still the leader of the group and the oldest member and the dynamic of their relationship reflects that. Even though it has barely been a few hours, you’re relieved to find that Chan has left behind the stresses of being an idol and can instead just be a son and an older brother.

His parents are hilarious and kind, it’s easy to see how Chan’s personality is a reflection of the environment that he was raised in. During dinner, you laugh at the way Chan pouts dramatically when Chan’s father pretends to forget about Chan when serving the food and how he groans in pleasure when he finally gets to taste his mother's cooking after so long. Hannah and Lucas continually crack jokes as you eat, especially if they're at Chan's expense and he pretends that he doesn't find them funny.

—

One afternoon you find Chan fiddling with the camera that he’s brought with him. You step up behind him, resting your chin on his shoulder and wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Are you planning on filming tonight?” you ask, knowing that Chan was always careful to alert everyone in the house beforehand.

“Not today,” he replies. “Probably tomorrow, when I take out Berry for her morning walk. Did you want to join?”

“Of course!”

“I was thinking of going right after breakfast, before it gets too hot out,” he says as he pulls out the camera battery and fits it into the charger.

“Anywhere in particular you wanted to go?”

“Mmm, maybe by the water? There's a path that's not too far away. I don't want anything that's too close to the house, you know?”

“Good idea.”

“Are you planning on putting it into a vlog?” you ask curiously. "You haven't been filming much.”

"Actually…”

“What? You're making me nervous.”

“I was hoping to use it for a music video,” Chan says sheepishly.

“What?! I'm not qualified for that!! I can't- you need to find someone else-”

“No no, it's going to be fine! It's for a record, not like, an actual music video.”

“I don't know,” you say, still feeling hesitant.

“I promise, I'm going for the casual vibes and it's either you or like, my eomma, and I guarantee that you would do a better job.”

“Okay,” you say reluctantly. “But I can't guarantee it'll come out well.”

“Thank you! I know it'll be great,” Chan says, showering you with kisses in gratitude until you're squirming away.

—

The next morning, Chan’s parents are out, leaving all the kids to prepare food on their own. It's a little chaotic, but you manage to cobble together a decent meal. It's a lot of fun to see how Chan and his siblings interact without their parents around to mediate. You're amazed by how similar the three are, not only in appearance but also the way they behave.

Although much younger, Lucas shares a strong resemblance to Chan, especially once he smiles and shows off matching dimples. They quickly disappear once Chan reaches out and musses up his hair playfully as you’re all cleaning up.

“Chris, stop it,” he complains, pushing his older brother away before trying to fix the strands that are all over the place. It only encourages Chan to move closer, wrapping his arms around his brother and lifting him into the air. When trying to wiggle free doesn’t work, he turns pleading eyes to you, knowing Hannah wouldn't step in to help. “Noona! Get him to let me down!”

The two of you had been awkward the first time you had been left alone, it hadn’t helped that Lucas’ Korean could be considered conversational at best and your English was significantly worse, but you had quickly grown close through attempts to tease Chan. Now, it’s easy to treat him like the little brother you never had.

You approach quickly, trying to avoid Lucas’ flailing limbs, and reach out to poke at Chan’s waist. He twitches away from your touch and when you persist in prodding at all his ticklish spots, unwinds one of his arms to swat at your hand.

The distraction is enough for Lucas to break away and he quickly moves out of reach. Instead of chasing after him, Chan turns his focus to you. You back away nervously, but find yourself with nowhere to go. Chan grabs you and easily slings you over your shoulder, ignoring your shrieks of protest.

“Betrayed by my own girlfriend? I should have known that introducing you to my siblings would just be asking for trouble,” he growls in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

“Hey! Where are you taking me?” You look to see if his siblings are going to rescue you, but they must be trying to avoid Chan's wrath as you don't see either of them as Chan brings you up to the guest room.

“I am enlisting your help,” he says casually, as if he wasn't carrying you up a flight of stairs and dropping you on the bed. “I would like your advice on what to wear for Berry's walk.”

“Ooh,” you say. “Very important business then, I'm honoured that you would ask me.”

It doesn't actually take much time to get ready, the two of you change into clothes for the heat and you just have to convince Chan that he doesn't have to try to do his hair or makeup. The second that you mention to Berry that you're going for a walk, her tail starts wagging non-stop and she even fetches her leash and drops it in front of you.

Chan doesn't give you much direction for filming, just hands you the camera and tells you to capture whatever you want. The two of you walk hand in hand through the neighbourhood, Berry happily exploring the area. As you get further away from the house, you let go of Chan, motioning for him to continue walking as you turn on the camera and get used to it.

By the time you've reached the waterfront, you're feeling more confident and have a better idea of what you like. You try out different angles, feeling a little bit like paparazzi, and after a few minutes, even try directing Chan too. You let him keep going, wanting to see how far away he'll go before he realises that you're not following. He's almost a block away before he turns back.

“You’re smiling, did it come out okay?” Chan asks as he jogs back towards you.

“Yeah, it was great! I was just thinking that Stay are going to go crazy over this,” you tell him.

“They do really like it whenever they get to see Berry,” he says thoughtfully, picking her up and scratching her head. You burst out laughing at that and Chan frowns in response and goes as far as to cover Berry’s ears, insulted on her behalf. “What? Don’t laugh at that, it’s true! Berry is just so cute.”

“I’m not saying that they don’t like Berry, of course they do. I was more referring to the fact that the video is… domestic. Very boyfriend.”

“Ooh you think that's what Stay are interested in?” he asks. “What about this?”

He gestures for you to lift up the camera, and once you're recording, grabs your hand to pull you along behind him. You let out a small noise of surprise as he tugs on your arm, struggling slightly to keep everything steady and ensure your hand is out of frame. At your sound, Chan looks back slightly and bursts into laughter.

“So concentrated, you’re so cute,” he giggles.

“Of course,” you grumble. “I want it to turn out nice.”

“Thank you,” Chan says sincerely, no traces of laughter in his voice. “I really do appreciate it a lot that you're helping me with work even though we're on vacation.”

“Hmm,” you say, turning away from him. “You're just glad that you didn't have to ask Hannah, because she would make fun of you the whole time.”

“That's not true! I mean, it is true that Hannah would do that, but that's not the only reason.” Chan uses your connected hands and pulls you close. “I also wanted to spend time with my favourite person in the whole world.”

“You're lucky I love you so much,” you sniff, still pretending to be annoyed even though you've practically melted into Chan's hug. “Now stop getting distracted, I thought it would look nice if you walked along the sand and there's nobody there right now.”

—

The rest of your time in Sydney is a whirlwind of activities. Chan is determined to take you to all his favourite places in the city and you eat more food than you thought possible. Chan’s family, and sometimes Felix and his family, accompanies you two for a majority of the outings and your initial hesitance interacting with them is replaced by fondness, eased by the way that they treat you like one of their own.

You even have a chance to meet some of Chan’s childhood friends, ones that he kept close with despite the long distance. It feels strange to eat dinner with them. Although they do their best to make you feel welcome, they have a lot of history together and you find yourself struggling to keep up with their conversation, not just because of the language barrier but due to references to people, places, and events that you're unfamiliar with. Regardless, you're glad to finally know the people that Chan grew up with and you love seeing how happy Chan is to be reunited with them.

It’s also nice that while you're meeting so many people, you don't have to hide your relationship at all. In Korea, you and Chan are more careful in public. It’s not totally a secret that you’re dating, but you are more on the cautious side due to the popularity of Stray Kids and inevitable scrutiny from fans. In Australia, Chan has no such reservations, excitedly introducing you as his girlfriend to everyone. It never fails to make you blush, feeling shy, but secretly pleased.

Wherever you go, Chan keeps you close to his side, linking your hands or looping an arm around your shoulders. Throughout the day, he presses kisses to your head or cheek. The first time he does it, you look up at him questioningly. He just shrugs, saying that he’s happy and well, you can’t argue with that.

You don’t want your vacation to end and you know you're not the only one. You and Chan have both procrastinated packing your luggage until the last possible moment, and when you finally do begin, Berry seems to sense it. She starts hiding all of your things- Chan's family members finding them lodged in one of the couch cushions or in her dog bed- and curling up inside your suitcase, making it practically impossible to continue packing.

When Chan enters your shared room and pauses when he sees you staring into the suitcase helplessly. You wave him over so that he can look inside.

“She’s too cute! Look at that little face, how could you disturb her?” you ask.

Chan has no such reservations. He reaches in and gently lifts Berry out, cradling her against his chest so that she can’t jump back in.

“Berry, do you want to come to Korea with us?” he asks patiently. When she licks at his face in reply, he groans and pretends to lower her back into the suitcase. “Ah, I guess we have no choice but to bring you! I think we can sneak you in with the rest of the souvenirs that we’re taking with us.”

Despite Chan’s promises, Berry ends up staying behind, not even joining you on the drive to the airport. You’re lucky that you decide to leave well before your flight is expected to depart as you end up taking almost half an hour saying goodbye to everybody.

You know that you’re going to treasure these memories for a long time and you’re certain that Chan will too. It’s amazing that even though you were only in Australia for a couple weeks, it already feels like a second home.

read it on ao3 | masterlist

[ohforficsake]

Talk Refined

main masterlist

Summary: Orpheus and Eurydice. A Blacksmith and a Warrior. A Lawyer and the Lady He Meets at a Bar. Two souls fated to find each other across lifetimes. Here are just a few of those stories.

Pairing: Ezra x f!Reader. Reader is able-bodied and takes many forms. Described as having hair that can be pinned back in one instance, generally open description in others.

This is my submission for @wannab-urs Hozier Drabble Challenge! My character was Ezra, and my prompt was "Talk" off of Wasteland, Baby!. This was such a fun challenge, thank you so much for organizing it, Gin!

Word Count: ~5.8K (I blew past drabble, I'm so sorry)

Rating: Explicit 18+ / brief fingering / brief handjob / unprotected piv / language / main character death / Minors DNI

A/N: This was so incredibly fun to write and I actually had a huge smile on my face when I finished it that I'm pretty sure is still there. I'm incredibly happy with how this turned out. I've never written for Ezra before, so this was a really interesting exercise in finding the voice of a character that I found quite challenging to get to the heart of. Ezra folks, I really hope I did your boy justice.

Notes on literary references and the source of Orpheus' speech (not written by me) included at the end.

I'm also kind of just launching this super hot off the press, so please forgive any typos you may find and definitely message me about them once you're done reading.

Massive thank you to @beskarandblasters for the beautiful cover art for this story! 💚 Go hit Kel up if you're looking for a lovely header for your work!

Dividers by @cafekitsune!

Part I: The Darkness of the Night

He’s called Orpheus in this lifetime. Blessed with his mother’s tongue. 

No way of knowing he forever will be.  

A twist of phrase. A glint in the eye. 

A white patch at his hairline is the only mark of his father. As if licked there by the rays of Apollo’s creation.

And he is his mother’s boy, plucking at lyre strings and humming low, branches bending to his ambit as he harmonizes with the rush of Zephyrus’ wings through tall grasses.

But you are a rich distraction indeed.

A distraction perhaps of the West Wind’s own making, for the god has always been a soft touch. 

The breeze toys with your chiton as you drift in and out of dreams. 

Molding gossamer to your form.

A promise of something just for him.

Orpheus reaches to run his knuckles down your arm, awaiting your stirring before he takes fingers over your shoulder, up to cup your cheek.

You turn to press against the warmth of his hand. The pad of his thumb softly skimming your bottom lip.

It sends sparks racing across your skin.

He hums a laugh and fits closer to you, warmer now than the midday sun. You slant your eyes up at him, greeted with a smile before he bends to press a long kiss to your mouth.

His lyre is discarded in the grass now, wildflowers poking up through its strings.

The hand on your cheek moves to pull at his red linen handkerchief around your neck. Tied there in the morn to guard the late-hour transgressions of his lips from judgmental stares. 

Again revealed to him now.

He tucks the cloth into his zoster before his fingers dip under the gauze of your robes, cupping one breast before his lips replace fabric.

“The dryads, my darling,” you whisper a warning into the heated hollow of his mouth.

“Fret not, my love,” he chides with a whisper.

And you whimper a wanton, insincere protest as his hand adjusts to move lower still, nimble fingers inching your hemline up until your thighs are bared to him.

“Surely such creatures would sympathize. Look favorably on newlywed dalliance.”

“For they understand pleasures such as these,” he murmurs as his fingers slip over your core.

"The nymphs haven’t our flesh," you gasp against his curls as he bends to nip at the lush of your breast.

"They have our desires."

"The nymphs know fertile things in ways we never shall, my darling Eurydice," ghosts hot against your skin. 

"And surely they know what comes of something flush with want."

The press of his length against you causes your hips to tilt into his hand as your languid knees fall open.

"To deny that nature is to deny the nymphs themselves, little dove."

He tips his face to brush petal-soft lips against your frantic pulse as he shifts over you.

"For you see, they don’t care."

And the breach of him causes your back to arch, nails digging into the corded muscle of his arms.

You bend enough for your eyes to land on the grove of oak trees.

Unsure if begging forgiveness. 

Or reveling in their jealousy.

But there are other eyes on you this day. Watching the deft way your husband wrings pleasure from your form. 

The way he rolls you over on a bed of meadowsweet to press deeper still.

Holding your body to his as he pulls music from your throat.

Other eyes, indiscreet in their desire and relentless in their pursuit.

Other eyes that lead to your journey across the Styx.

Lead to Orpheus’ torment.

They say there are ways to speak with the dead.

But words will not pacify the poet when the possibility exists to feel you beneath him again.

A body that writhes under his own. Skin soft against the way his burns.

The way you welcome the thick weight of him.

All of him.

Into the warm clutch of your wet cunt.

And Orpheus, driven by his desire and blessed with his mother’s gift, marches boldly into the depths of grief.

“You powers divine of the subterranean kingdom, where all of mortal creation must one day sink to our doom, if you will give me permission to tell you the truth unvarnished by shifty pretenses…”

“I’d hoped to be able to bear my loss and confess that I tried.”

And the dance of his fingers over gut string pricks the ears of the damned as he gives verse to his flesh’s torment.

“In the name of these confines of fear, in the name of this vast abyss and your realm of infinite silence, I, Orpheus, implore you, unravel the web of my dear Eurydice’s early passing.”

A prayer for relief.

“This is the place that we all are bound for, our final dwelling, and yours is the longest reign that the human race must endure.”

Through vulpine teeth.

“Eurydice too, when her due of years has been ripely completed, shall own your sway. Till then, I beg you to let me enjoy her.”

And it moves the hound to cease its lashing. 

Moves the one eternally punished to rest upon his stone. 

Moves the dead of Winter to cave to the tender brush of Spring’s hand.

And you are called forth by a voice between what should be your ears. 

And Orpheus begins to move.

Daring to hope for your sweet clutch again as your footsteps grow louder against stone.

As you take the form he knows, more corporeal with every footfall.

The tenderness in your ankle made manifest with flesh.

And his cock throbs with the thought of you.

His wife.

His muse.

But there’s a pause in the lilting cadence of your step.

Where you’ve stopped to grab for the fallen handkerchief that slipped from his belt.

And the panic flooding his breast moves him against all hope.

And he turns.

And you reach for him.

Before disappearing for the final time.

With forgiveness swimming in your eyes.

Part II: Pilgrim, Stranger, Wanderer

He’s called Doran in this lifetime.

A name you learn upon ducking into the blacksmith’s workshop with another man’s name on your lips. 

“Callum!” You call, greeted instead by a shock of white hair where blonde should be.

Round brown eyes where you expected green.

“Apologies,” you offer, “I am looking for the smith.”

“Callum was called away to his family in the north country.”

His answering voice like honey just starting to crystalize. 

“I’m called Doran,” he bends his head in customary greeting.

And you note the broad spread of his hand against his chest.

“I apprenticed under Callum, in what feels like a lifetime ago now, I admit.” He offers a small smirk. “He asked that I mind the forge in his absence.”

And you give him your name but not your full belief in this story.

“May I help you with something, dove?”  

You straighten against the rake of his eyes. “My horse requires particular shoes. She is of a larger breed and nothing standard will suit.”

And you turn your back to him leading the way outside.

Doran whistles low at the sight of your mare, a sturdy Friesian glossed blue in the morning sun.

“She is a stunning creature,” he purrs, gently taking his fingers over her strong neck.

Pausing to thumb the iris stamped into the leather of her bridle.

“She’s no delicate thing,” you watch as he circles the horse. “Her grandsire was a draft who pulled the High King’s carriage.”

He fits one massive hoof between his knees, gently brushing away the feathers at her ankle before she starts fighting his touch. 

He adjusts her gently, inspecting her irons before she protests in earnest.

“It’s apparent,” he says, quickly dropping the horse’s foot and jumping aside before she stamps and shakes her head, “that her blood runs hot.”

“She does not favor the touch of men,” you answer, soothing a hand over her hindquarters. “I should have forewarned you.”

“A fair lady is entitled to her opinions when she is that beautiful,” Doran gives her a wide berth.

And takes his eyes over you instead. 

“You are the nobleman’s daughter.” He squints against the sun. “The warrior?” 

“I am.”

“Now,” he pulls a rag from his pocket and rubs at his hands, “I know well the dangers of feminine beauty but a warrioress is altogether new to me. You are not riding into battle soon, I pray?”

“One in my position exists in a constant state of preparation. But there is no rumble of battle on the horizon.” 

His smirk dimples one cheek now.

“I shall have the shoes for your láir within the week. And I shall pray you need not fly away before then, little dove.”

“May I make half the payment now for your services? This was the custom with the old smith.”

“The only payment for my services I can insist upon is merely the chance to sit in your presence a moment longer. Would a fair lady allow a humble blacksmith that much?”

And you see straight through him. Through to the tools on the wall. 

But the broad set of his shoulders under ash-smudged linen. The way he moves, lithe and light on his feet as he dances between his stock of iron bars and his cache of hammers. The bright wideness of his eyes that betray sincerity or something of its kin.

A humble one no. But this one, perhaps.

You drop a pouch of coins onto his anvil. “Where?”

“Meet me here. In the morrow?”

And you tell him “maybe” in the moment as you climb into your saddle.

But you arrive on foot the next morning. 

_____

You meet him three mornings in the week it takes him to forge your mare’s irons. 

On the first day he tells you of his travels through Spain and France. Of scrambling up the masts of the ship that brought him to your shore. 

On the third, he recites The Bard’s work with such nuance that you’re not entirely sure he isn’t the man himself.  

On the fifth day he leads you out to the ruins of an old monastery, up a winding staircase until you’re forced to stand so close on the crumbling parapet that you can feel the heat of him at your back.

Your head spins from something other than the height.

On the seventh day he places four horseshoes, lovingly wrapped in burlap and bound with hemp cord, into the hand he has cradled in his own. 

Warm and worn.

“Can I see you again?” He murmurs, barely a foot between you.

“Is that wise?”

“I have been mistaken for many things, little dove.” He brushes two knuckles over your cheekbone. “Nary a man has included wise among them.”

And you scoff but press into his touch all the same. 

“Forgive me my boldness,” he takes his fingers under your chin, “but I must pose the question.”

“Your mare does not favor the touch of men.”

“But,” he purrs, “do you?”

And your lips form the word “goodnight” but you don’t dare move.

Your eyes flash with a want that does not go neglected. 

“Must you take your leave?” He thumbs your bottom lip.

“I must.”

“But what of my payment,” he hums.

“As I recall you beseeched me pay with my time,” you tilt your head, reveling in the brush of warm breath against your skin, “I dare say I’ve tendered more than my share.”

“And yet I am in debt every time you take your presence from me,” he smirks. “There is something of you, little dove, that I fear has a hold on—”

You steal the words from his lips with your own.

And the unabashed delight dancing over his features when you part makes you kiss him again.

You fling your arm to rest the irons on the first surface you can find, desperate to wind your hands in his hair as his fit to your waist.

He urges your mouth open with the soft slip of his tongue. Humming when you let him inside.

“Little bird,” he pants when he tears his lips from you, forehead thumping hard against yours. “I confess if you stay past this moment I shall not be able to exercise any measure of restraint.”

“Is restraint what you desire?” You angle heavy-lidded eyes up at him. 

“Not in the slightest,” he swallows hard, fist still gripping at your hair. “But you are a gentle lady with a good name, and I—”

“I want you, Doran,” you murmur. “This.”

And his head falls back on his shoulders with a tight, pained hiss.

“I confess I have given in to the fantasy of hearing that fall from this lush mouth many nights since first we met.”

And he expects heat to rise to your cheeks at his admission. But the hand that cradles your neck finds no such warmth.

“Do you know how it works?” He hums low, running his palm down your sleeve to lace thick fingers with yours. “Pleasure?” He brings your knuckles to his lips, eyes glinting in hearthlight. 

And there is sincerity evident in his gaze.

For you are a gentle lady with a good name. 

“Mmm, have you felt this?” He takes your hand, gliding it over the rough wool of his trousers.

To the hard line of his length underneath them. 

Your breath skips.

You are no stranger to amusement of the flesh. But never before have you felt so—much. 

“Feel me, birdie,” he hums, rolling his forehead against yours, “what you do to me. I fear there isn’t any blood left for the rest of me.” He kisses you again. “Only for you. This. Just for you.”

“Your bed, Doran,” you murmur against his mouth.

The hand over yours encircles your wrist and he leads you through to his chambers.

He pulls you tight to his body again, mouths locked as his hands roam your form, unable to settle upon what features his fingers must traverse first. 

You push the braces from his shoulders and he helps you with the buttons of his shirt, your hands skating up the smooth expanse of tanned skin before tugging at your own shirttails.

Your lips find his neck as he unbuttons his trousers. You’ve already stepped out of yours.

“So eager, birdie,” he wraps you in his arms, and your skin burns with his touch. “Surely you’ve seen it with beasts, yes?” He salts your neck with kisses. “It’s quick with them, you see. It doesn’t have to be. Doesn’t have to—”

A moan cuts off his babbling from where you’ve taken him in hand. 

“Although I may yet need to beg your forgiveness,” his hips buck into your hand, “my stamina may yet waiver, upon this first time.”

His tongue slips into your mouth again and finally he finds himself enough to back you up until your thighs meet his bed. 

“It’s been so long. So long, birdie, since I have held a woman.” He leans you back with his body as your hands fly to his hair. “Longer still since I have held one as soft. Supple and pliant as you.” His lips map your collarbone, nose skimming the valley of your breasts as he takes one in hand.

“Never before is a long time indeed.”

He sucks at tender, pebbled skin, drawing an arch in your spine as he shifts to settle between your legs.

“I give you my word that I will indeed take my time with you but I offer a preemptive apology in the instance that I fail upon this first time.” His fingers slip down to toy with your folds, groaning against your ribs at the wetness that he finds there. “Perhaps we are no different than animals indeed.” 

You hear only half of his babbling. 

The static of anticipation under your skin crackles in your ears as your hips tip into his hand. His thumb slides over your clit and you cry out. 

“You see, sometimes a man just needs to bury himself deep.”

He slings your legs over his hips and sits up on his knees, stroking his length with your borrowed wetness as your hands find his thighs.

There’s a dark edge to his voice now. Heavy-lidded eyes locked on the core of you.

“This need. It’s far stronger than I ever will be.”

“Now, Doran, I need—”

He doesn’t make you wait.

And he keeps his word in the moments it matters. Slowly rocking his hips to stretch you open on his cock before your body begs him deeper.

Large palms settle around your waist as he builds in pace, alternating slow with fast. Tenderness with force that drives the bedframe to knock against the wall. When his thumb winds circles against your clit you cry into the night as pleasure rips through you. Greedy lips crash against yours as his weight blankets your reeling form. Fevered moans in his chest thrum through you as he savors the way your walls pulse around him. 

He buries his face against your neck and you feel the bite of his teeth as he snarls, drawing closer and closer to the edge.

He cants his hips just so at the last minute, pulling himself from your heat a moment before his seed streams hot over your thigh.

You soothe a hand over the nape of his neck as his hips spasm with the last of it, wide hand cradling your jaw and tipping your face to his.

Kisses softer now. 

Grateful.

“You are a rare bird indeed,” he murmurs against your ear, lips ghosting over your neck. 

He finds himself enough to rise from bed and kneel on the floor, searching for his handkerchief amongst the tangle of his clothes. 

Yours peeks from the pocket of your trousers, red against brown wool, and you lazily twirl a corner of it around your finger and draw it out.

Doran catches it from your hand, gently cleaning your thigh of his spend before pressing a kiss there. 

“I shall return this to you clean,” he holds it up briefly before craning to press a kiss to your lips. “Don’t trouble a hair on your head with moving, birdie,” he bids you before disappearing to the kitchen.

You trouble the hair on your head all the same as you pull the jostled pins from it, tousling it out of the style your nurse had so meticulously placed it in this morning. 

Doran returns with two glasses and a bottle of whiskey. He fills them as you prop yourself up on your side and he settles on the floor. One arm slung up on the mattress.

Adoration in his eyes as he tips his glass against yours.

“You didn’t tell me this was not your first time. Although I do find it rather a pleasant surprise,” he rubs a hand over the curve of your waist with lust-hazed eyes.

“I could scarcely utter a word amidst your chatter,” you tease with a grin as you take another sip of your whiskey.

His smile dimples his cheek. 

“Are you—”

For once he hesitates to speak.

“Are you promised to anyone?”

You catch his hand and bring it to your lips, pressing a kiss to his palm before he thumbs your cheekbone.

“None but myself. And my duty.”

He hums in acknowledgment. 

You finger the white patch at his hairline, twirling a clinging curl. 

“Angered a horse as a child and she made it known with her hooves,” he offers. “Frightened the color from that spot, I’m afraid.”

“There’s character in it. I’m quite fond.”

He turns in and rests his chin on the bed, hand back to trailing over your curves. 

“Dove?”

And you frown at the nickname.

“I am nothing so delicate, Doran.”

“A shrike then, perhaps,” he smirks, knuckles ghosting over your stomach. 

And something about it makes your heart preen.

“Has a man ever,” his fingers dip lower over your abdomen, “put his mouth on you?” 

It sends a fresh jolt of pleasure racing up your spine. You turn onto your back without thought, basking in his touch as fingers trail over your mound.

“Right here?” The pads of his middle and ring fingers wind softly against your clit.

“No,” you gasp.

“Then may I have the pleasure of being the first?”

And he is the first in a way that has you wishing for him to be the last. 

The only.

_____

Your handmaid was sympathetic to your cause, having been driven from her own house for true love. They share a small cottage on your father’s land now.

Your mother, though she did not know the intricacies of your continued dalliances with the blacksmith, knew the shift in your demeanor was a man’s doing. And she always was a soft touch for love.

Your father.

Was your mother’s concern. 

And so your nurse covers your footsteps with a tickle in her throat that needs clearing.

Ushers you back into your chambers before morning light with a knowing smile.

“I always thought you would make a pass for the stable hand,” she confesses one day as she pours heated water over your hair. “The blacksmith is a surprise.”

“An unpleasant one?”

“Not in the slightest. He’s handsome.”

You can tell there is more to the sentiment. 

“Yes, and?” You ask with a raised brow.

“Rakish.”

“Perhaps rakish is what I need,” as you rub water from your eyes. 

“No lady with sense needs rakish, my darling girl,” she chides as she rubs soap at your scalp. “But a lady with sense should indulge in it from time to time.” 

This draws a smile across your lips.

“He treats you well?”

“He treats me to pleasure the likes of which I have never known. If I offer this kingdom the breath in my breast every time I leave its gates, the least I may be permitted is the choice of a lover.” 

And so she fixes you bitter tea every morning that you return from your rakish man.

_____

The pair of you take to late night meetings at the old groundskeeper’s shack on your parents’ land. 

Where the splashing of the brook over rocks and the churn of the water wheel stifle the way he makes you cry out in pleasure.

And for one so verbose, he does excel at discretion. Raking ashes from the forge through the patch of white in his hair. Bending shadows around himself as he slips from town and into the forest at the edge of the estate. 

The pair of you carry on for months. Until summer sun yields to the darkening blanket of fall. 

A welcome change that lengthens your stolen hours.

“I’d wager that we were lovers in lives past,” he muses one night, lips pressing kisses against a scar on your shoulder. “You know me, little bird. The very depths of me.”

“Perhaps,” you roll over in a luxuriant stretch, “you are easy to know.”

“The Townsfolk would perhaps beg to differ, my darling.” He rests his hand on your cheek as you curl into him.

“Must you go in the morrow?” He asks softly.

“I’m afraid I must. For it is my duty. To ensure the safety—”

“—of the kingdom,” you both finish.

“In that case, I have made you a gift.” He reaches over your form down to the pocket of his cloak, and produces a small canvas pouch.

He sits up with you, pulling your back to his chest, arms around your middle as he watches you. 

A small silver disk threaded on a chain falls into your palm. An iris stamped into the pendant.

“Doran, it’s beautiful. You made this?”

“It is perhaps more crude than a silversmith’s work,” he helps you fasten it around your neck, “but I wanted you to have something to remember my touch in the absence of it.”

You turn towards him such that he can see you in the firelight. Ash on your jaw from where you held him to your neck, perched atop his hips while he ground deep. 

Silver pendant hanging just above the valley of your breasts. 

“Beautiful,” he smiles, pressing a kiss against your lips, thumbing at the smudge on your chin. “I have always thought there to be something undeniably sensual in the furl of iris petals,” he rumbles, “how fitting for them to be your favorite.”

“Your imagination is swift, Doran.”

“You have not beheld what I have, dearheart,” he pulls you down against the bed linens once more.

Holding you against his heart. 

And he is quiet for a long while, fingers running softly over your stomach, nose buried in your hair.

“What of my safety?” He asks. 

A plea to keep you here. 

“What shall I do?”

“I have no doubt you will find another iris that unfurls for you in the meanwhile,” you hum. Eyes slipping closed. 

“There is only one, my love. I shall wait for your return.”

_____

A grand crowd lines the streets as you and the men of your battalion ride towards the village gates the next morning. Full of cheers and blessings.

And you offer the customary wave and nod.

But your heart hammers against chainmail. 

Eyes darting through the crowd.

Willing a shock of white to appear. 

And as you near the gates he greets you.

Warm brown eyes and a grin of pride. He rushes to push through the crowd as you approach on your mare, eyes never leaving each other. 

You slip one foot from your stirrup and he jams one of his into it and stands, briefly.

Long enough to cup the base of your skull and lay a parting kiss against your lips.

You hurriedly pull your red handkerchief from behind your breastplate, pressing it into his palm as he drops away.

Crushing the cloth to his heart as you slip through the gates. 

And it will yield the ire of your father and the warm, joyous tears of your mother.

But they matter not.

For you do not return home under your own power. 

You return home under a shroud. 

Your nurse slips into the night, treading your path with your necklace in hand.

“She was found with her hand over her heart. And this underneath it.”

And the blacksmith. 

Wrought with grief.

Is never seen again.

Part III: The Helper. The Protector.

He’s called Ezra in this lifetime. 

Brought to this bar by a group of associates keen on celebrating his win in federal court this afternoon. 

And he knows it’s an excuse to drink on the firm’s dime.

He was an associate once too. 

But they helped draft the brief that saved their client $44 million. A few drinks is a small thanks. 

Ezra sticks to the corners, entertaining chatter only when approached. Kindly redirecting the advances of a first year who’s too young to realize flirting with a partner is career suicide.

He’s content tonight to sip his bourbon and observe.

“Okay, but I told you that Bismark case was horseshit and the judge was going to see that!” One associate who is two drinks too deep roars.

“That was so fucking risky, I still can’t believe you put so much weight on that,” another chides.

“Fucking WORKED though!” And the first man spreads his arms wide.

Knocking you into the sip of red wine you were about to take from your seat at the bar. 

“Jesus, fuckin’—” you start before taking a deep breath and glancing down at the patch of deep burgundy beginning to spread on your white blouse. 

Fuck.

“Boys, boys, this lovely lady didn’t consent to hearing your opinions on bullshit 4th Circuit rulings, okay?” Ezra appears, stretching an arm between you and the men. “Let’s be a little more careful, take it to a booth, yeah?”

“Miss, I apologize on their behalf,” he starts and you take another centering breath because you really are not here for some hotshot lawyer’s apologies. This is your spot, and they’re fucking with your Thursday night nightcap.

But the brown eyes you’re met with are wide and sincere.

And something at the very core of you thrums momentarily with something you can’t name. 

“Please, allow me to replace your wine and cover your tab for the night.” He’s already calling the barman over before you can assure him that’s really not necessary because they’ve fucked up your night already and you just want to go home. 

“Could you please arrange a fresh glass of wine for this lovely lady, place her tab on the card I gave you, and may I have a shot glass of white wine. I need the white wine as quickly as you can, please. Thanks very much.”

And you’re still staring at those brown eyes.

Bristling and dumbstruck at the same time. 

“Ezra,” he holds out a hand in belated introduction, and you offer a firm shake and your name in exchange.

“Sorry, a shot glass of white wine?” You quip as the bartender places it in front of Ezra.

He slips a red pocket square from his jacket and dips a corner into the shot glass.

“Apologies, may I?”

And inexplicably you turn in towards him on your bar stool as he dabs at the stain on your shirt. 

Just over your heart. 

“White wine will keep the stain from setting,” he proffers.

You crane your neck to the side, trying to settle your focus on cut glass bottles and not the stranger tending to the fine layer of cotton just above your left breast. 

He’s gentle though. Respectful in a way you perhaps didn’t anticipate. 

He smells of hinoki wood and worn leather.

“Right as rain,” he announces and takes half a step back before offering you the handkerchief. “If you want to hold that there to blot some of the excess.”

“Um, yeah, thank you. Thanks,” you hold the cloth over your heart as the bartender returns with your fresh glass of wine. 

Ezra settles on the barstool next to you.

“How…did you know that?” 

“About the wine?” He swallows a sip of bourbon. “Must’ve read it at some point and it just stuck.”

“Seems you’re a good man to have around in a crisis then,” you smile and tip your glass in his direction. He gently touches the side of his against it, before tapping the heavy base against the bar and taking another sip. 

Everything he does is briefly fascinating. 

“I apologize again for these kids,” he reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket, producing a business card which he slides over to you face-down. “You should be all good with that,” he gestures at the handkerchief, “but I insist on you sending me the dry cleaning bill. If I’ve recalled incorrectly and it does stain, I will procure a replacement for you, you have my word.”

“That’s really not necessary,” you start and yet find yourself unable to stop, “and I’m not even sure it’s possible this is vintage—”

“Alexander McQueen, I know.”

You turn all the way towards him on your barstool now. 

And his eyes glitter with your fascination as he runs his hand through the patch of white at his hairline.

“What are you reading,” he tips his head to the side as if to glimpse the cover of your book but he doesn’t break your gaze. Cheek dimpled with a half smile. 

“Ovid. Metamorphoses.”

“For fun?” There’s a hint of surprise in his voice but it’s far from belittling. 

“It’s…” you start before a smile splits your face, “yeah. For fun.”

And he echoes your grin.

“I re-read it for fun last year. I think the passage about Orpheus’ death is my favorite.”

“Fascinating,” you swallow a sip of your tempranillo. “Why that one?” 

“Well, I believe it’s a commentary on both the unbridled rage of passion and a testament to the obstinate nature of true love.”

“Obstinate?” You incline your head incredulously. “That’s quite a choice.”

“And yet it holds true, does it not? Orpheus, arguably one of the most talented figures in Greek mythology,” and he’s gesturing broadly now, “able to enchant the very souls of feral beasts and move trees to bend their limbs just to be nearer his music.”

He jabs his finger into the bartop between you, “he moved Hades, both the realm and the deity himself, let’s not forget, correct?”

And you nod, amusement playing across your features. 

“The earth and the underworld fell at his feet. And he shunned it all out of love for Eurydice.”

“And so what moral value do you place on obstinacy?” You ask.

“Obstinacy in love is the only way to experience it. To feel it so completely that you forsake everything else. Defy the world. For love. Fidelity to the wife that you betrayed by turning back.” Brown eyes are wide with his conviction.

He adds, “even Shakespeare said let it be virtuous to be obstinate.”

“Okay, in a COMPLETELY DIFFERENT context!” Your turn to erupt now, with arms thrown in the air where you’re met by his wide smile. “You cannot cherry pick that out of Coriolanus choosing to abandon his family out of sheer stubbornness, and frankly, contempt for his own people, to extol the virtues of love! Let it be virtuous to FORSAKE that love, is the whole point of that line.”

And this is the moment.

That Ezra falls in love.

And you’re not far behind.

Time slips from this point on. Patrons file in and out. More wine and whiskey is poured. Associates drunkenly clap him on the back as they make their way home, but none of it registers.

The world spins around the pair of you.

Until finally the bartender insists that he close his tab. 

And you both step out onto a city street wet with the aftermath of a brief summer downpour. 

“Thank you,” Ezra starts, “for the absolute pleasure of your company.”

He holds a tentative hand out, which you shake with a heartfelt “likewise.”

“Oh, your handkerchief,” you pull it from your pocket and hold it out to him. 

“Keep it.” He smiles. 

And you both spin on your heels. Proceeding in opposite directions.

But the warp and weft of the red cotton square that you keep rubbing between your fingers forces you to stop in your tracks. 

You turn around.

And look back. 

Meeting Ezra’s gaze from where he hasn’t moved a step.

He thumbs the corner of his lips, brown eyes locked on yours.

And you both move. 

Urgent steps pulled by Fates’ string.

Colliding as you throw your arms around his neck and he locks you against him with biceps around your ribs.

Lips crashing together with the relief of a thousand lifetimes. 

Lifetimes that you’ve known each other.

Lifetimes that you’ve lost each other. 

And this lifetime. Having found each other again.

Taglist of folks who may be interested, as always, please do let me know if you'd prefer not to be tagged, or if you'd like to be added!

@morallyinept @iamskyereads @tinytinymenace @for-a-longlongtime @legendary-pink-dot

@oliveksmoked @nerdieforpedro @julesonrecord

Subpart headings are the meaning of Ezra's name in that section.

Orpheus' monologue included herein in italics is quoted from David Raeburn's 2004 translation of Ovid's Metamorphoses, published by Penguin Classics. The text of this translation just felt so Ezra that I had to include it in that form. If you'd like to hear it read by Hozier himself, head on over to his instagram circa summer 2020's Poetry Fridays for this and some other wonderful work.

This story references the version of Eurydice's death as precipitated by Aristaeus.

Láir means mare in Irish Gaelic.

"Let it be virtuous to be obstinate" is quoted from Coriolanus by William Shakespeare.

[minisugakoobies]

Sunny! I’d like to request #5 on the dirty texts with anyone - smutty dealers choice!

Ooooh, dealers choice?? Hmmm… I gotta go Yoongi on this one, I have not (and will never) recovered from the D Day tour. 😵‍💫

This was supposed to be a drabble but it's well over 1k so… sorry about that!! 💕

Title: Out of the Bag Now Pairing: Yoongi x Reader Genre: friends to lovers?, a bit cracky, smut, Coworkers!AU Rating: M(18+) Warnings: accidentally dirty texts, misunderstandings, mutual pining, masturbation (m), almost turns into phone sex, reader is flustered af (in the best way!), ends on a cute note, prompt is highlighted in bold

You: Okay, so we have everything ready for the presentation tomorrow?

Yoongi: Yeah, we're good to go

Yoongi: Nothing to worry about, so try to get a good night's sleep

Yoongi: I know you didn't sleep before March's shareholder meeting

Glancing at the last text message, you sigh wistfully.

For over a year now, you've been madly in love with your coworker, Min Yoongi. Ok, love might be stretching it a bit. You're wildly in lust with the man.

He's everything you've ever wanted in a partner - cool, calm, collected, clever as fuck with an acerbic wit that always makes you laugh (while praying that you'll never been on the receiving end of its sharp sting). Plus, he's absolutely gorgeous, the kind of guy that people would use an example of "have you ever seen a man so beautiful you cried?"

Or maybe that's just you.

But he is strikingly handsome, and makes your knees go weak when he favors you with one of his rare smiles. They usually come out when he's being sweet to you. Like when he's making sure you're getting enough sleep.

So yeah, you're head over heels for him. If only you had the guts to do anything about it.

You: I'll try

You: But you too! No late night movie marathons again, Yoongi

You: Boss's orders

That's just a dumb joke between the two of you. You're colleagues, on the same level, but Yoongi had insisted that you take the lead on this project, since you had more familiarity with the product than he did. Another check in the "pros" column - he's a man who supports his other colleagues and isn't afraid to take orders.

Yoongi: Yes boss

Yoongi: You can't see it but I'm saluting you right now

He sends a few emojis through and you giggle. For the last few weeks, the two of you have been texting back and forth after hours. It's mostly shop talk, but lately the conversations have dragged on and on, drifting into the late night hours. As this one has. You've already finished your nightly skincare and have moved on to your dental routine.

Yoongi: Seriously though, try not to stress about tomorrow

You: Honestly, I'm not! I'm feeling pretty confident about this

Yoongi: Good. Then you can just relax tonight

You: That's the plan

You balance your phone in one hand while using your electric toothbrush with the other. Yoongi cracks a joke, and your response is a little mangled by your sole thumb's lack of dexterity.

You: Sorry abour any typos

You: I'm like typing with one hand

Three grey dots dance across your screen for a few seconds.

Yoongi: Oh shit, you're REALLY relaxing. I didn't realize it was that type of conversation

You spit into the sink, brow furrowing as you reread his message. What does he mean by that?

Then you scroll up and nearly scream. "I'm like typing with one hand"?? Oh my god, why the fuck did you say that to him? He doesn't know that you meant you were brushing your teeth!

Frantically, you start typing out a response, erasing and starting over a few times, trying to figure out the best way to say "hey no I'm a dumbass who was just brushing my teeth and not touching myself to you" even though the fact is that you have touched yourself while thinking about him, several times actually, but that's neither here or there -

and then a new message appears.

Yoongi: Hold on, let me catch up

Excuse me??

Your phone buzzes with an incoming call and you nearly throw it into the sink in shock when you see that it's Yoongi calling. It takes a few seconds for the command to answer the call to get from your brain to your finger.

"Yoongi?"

A happy sigh greets you. "Fuck, that's better. Wanted to hear your voice."

The floor seems like the safest place to be right now, so you collapse onto it, leaning back against the cabinets under the sink.

"You did?"

"Oh yeah. You've got such a pretty voice, YN. Bet it sounds even sweeter when you're coming," Yoongi rumbles, that's the only word for it, he rumbles in that deep-ass voice of his, and you slide until you're just lying on your back, staring up at the bathroom ceiling, waiting for death to claim you, because how the fuck are you supposed to go on living after this?

"I - um - thank you?"

Yoongi laughs, but there's a slight hiccup in it, and it dawns on you what he's doing right now while he's talking to you. He's catching up. Images flood your brain - Yoongi lying on a couch, or maybe on a bed, hand tucked into his pants, fingers wrapped around a hard cock - and you choke on your own saliva.

"You ok?"

"Yeah! Yes. I'm fine, thank you."

He chuckles again, and it's physically impossible but you swear you can feel the vibrations through the phone. "You sure? You sound a little flustered."

"Oh, I'm sorry." What the fuck are you supposed to be saying to him right now? You're pretty sure it's not apologizing, but that's what you do anyway.

"Don't be. It's really cute."

Well thank fuck for that.

"Yoongi," you steady yourself with a deep breath, "what I said earlier… I didn't mean I was touching myself."

Silence. A lot of silence. It's a relief when he speaks again, but it fades quickly as you catch the disappointment in his voice.

"Oh shit, really? I - fuck." Now who's flustered? "What - what were you doing?"

"Brushing my teeth."

"Oh. Huh." He sighs, sounding deflated. "Guess I just jumped to a conclusion that I… wanted."

"Oh," you echo. "That's…" Incredible? Unbelievable? The best thing you've heard since you were born?

"Listen, YN, I'm so sorry. This whole thing was just - fuck, just really inappropriate, and if I've made you feel uncomfortable, I'm truly sor-"

Sitting up, you wave your arm to stop him. As if he can see you right now. "No, no! Yoongi. Wait. It's not like that. I wasn't doing anything right now but… but I have."

More silence. You bite your lip as you wait for him to catch up, for real this time.

"You mean…"

"I mean, I've t-touched myself while thinking about you. Before." Clearing your throat, you cover your eyes with your free hand, hiding your face from an invisible audience. Somehow, it emboldens you to keep talking. "A lot, actually."

He exhales shakily. "Really?"

"Yeah. Yeah, really." Uncovering your face, you stand, propping yourself up against the counter as you stare at yourself in the mirror. Is that really you having this discussion right now? You start to laugh.

"I don't think I'm getting the joke," Yoongi says slowly.

"Holy shit, this is just so surreal, Yoongi," you inform him. "I never in a million years thought I'd be admitting that I - Jesus, that I masturbate to thoughts of you! Not over the phone like this. Maybe after like-"

"A date?"

You huff out another laugh. "After a dozen, maybe. This is… I'm extremely out of my depth here."

"Well, if it makes you feel better, I think you're doing a great job." He's laughing now, too, and it makes you grin so wide your cheeks actually hurt. "How about this - you let me take you on a date tomorrow night, to celebrate our successful presentation, and maybe by the end of the night, we'll know where we stand on the timeline for surprising confessions?"

"Okay. Yeah. Yes." You close your mouth to prevent yourself from continuously accepting his offer.

"Great. Then… I'll see you tomorrow." His voice drops to a soft whisper. "Sweet dreams, YN."

"Good night, Yoongi."

Okay, so you may have lied to him. Because there's no way you're getting any sleep tonight.

Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜 

© 2023 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost.

[bqstqnbruin]

Drunk Texts

Me? With another fic? This fast? Ground breaking.

Anyway, this has been sitting in my google drive for way too long and I finally finished it. It's inspired by Drunk Texts by New Rules.

Thank you to my besties @kat-hearts @raysofcrosby @matthewtkachuk and @assmanselke for reading this, but they have no idea what the ending is so hahahaha

If there are typos, I'm so sorry, Grammarly is being weird

Warnings: mentions of sex, alcohol consumption, swearing, the ending

WC: 5k ish

Flashbacks are in italics

_______________________________________

The sun was up, there was a bird outside his window happily chirping, the city below his apartment was alive and bustling on the beautiful late summer day.

Anthony felt like he wanted to die.

He couldn’t remember having a worse hangover, trying to wrack the usable part of his brain to figure out if he had anything besides alcohol the night before. He was pretty sure he had at least one glass of water, thinking he had maybe a bite of food but that proved to be way too little to counteract what was probably a bottle or two of wine and whatever else his teammates had given to him to drink last night. 

He sat up from bed, his head pounding as he rubbed his eyes and searched for his phone, haphazardly on his nightstand under what he could only hope was his own underwear and not someone else's. If some other guys boxers were there, Anthony knew he had more than one problem to deal with. 

It was the same thing every single time he went drinking after a bad night, his room and probably the rest of his apartment left in a disaster, but the worst part were the drunk texts he knew were sent by him the night before. Drunk texts sent by anyone were horrible, incoherent and easy to blame on being inebriated, but his were always exceptionally bad. 

Anthony got out of bed, his head pounding with every movement he made. He knew he had to check his phone at some point. Delaying it any longer would just lead to more issues with his life later on.

The one person he hoped he hadn’t texted was right at the top of his messages, a message that somehow combined French, English, and absolute gibberish into one text, undoubtedly from him, showing up in the preview. 

He tapped the messages with Scarlett, the last girl he dated, and still couldn’t get out of his head. She was, unfortunately, used to his drunk or stupid texts, Anthony unable to form a proper thought when it came to her.

‘I like you’ was the only text he could decipher at first glance, an “oh fuck,” escaping his lips while he tried to piece together why his teammates would let him not only drink so much, but keep his phone on him the entire time. 

“Who is that over there?” Anthony asked, staring at the girl with long, dark hair, talking to one of his new teammates. 

“Uh, that’s Quinn,” Brock said, “your teammate.”

“No, the girl he’s somehow talking to,” Anthony replied.

“Not sure, I normally see Quinn with her when we come here, though. She always shows up when Quinn texts her,” Brock shrugged, “I think her name is Sarah? Sage?”

So she probably likes Quinn then, if she’s showing up when he asks. He shakes his head, “You only know that her name maybe starts with an S, don’t you?”

“Yep.” 

Anthony sighed, trying to take in the girl Quinn was talking to. He swore he had seen her before, something about her trying to work its way through his memory. 

“Go talk to her.” 

“What?” he asked, looking at his teammate.

“I promise you that Quinn does not have enough in him to pull a girl like that.” 

“Isn’t he one of your best friends?” 

“Yes, that’s why I can say it. Now, go.” Brock practically had to shove Anthony away from the table. 

Anthony stood there frozen, staring at Quinn and this girl while his mind went a mile a minute as to how he was going to talk to her. ‘This is ridiculous,’ he thought to himself, ‘she’s just a girl, talking to Quinn. If Quinn can talk to her, so can I.’

He felt his entire body shaking under the weight of himself as he tried to make his way over to the girl and Quinn. He could just tell Quinn he wanted to buy him a drink, celebrate the win they had the other night, something, anything. 

“Hey, Tito,” Quinn called out, pulling Anthony from his thoughts. Quinn and the girl were staring at him, the heat rushing to his face as she smiled at him. “This is Scarlett.” 

Anthony knew he had to speak. She was staring at him. She was smiling at him. She was clearly waiting for him to say something to her, but all functions that his body possessed suddenly stopped, including the one where he was able to get out something as simple as, “hi.” 

“Um,” Scarlett started, Quinn standing to the side laughing at his teammate, “Quinn tells me you just moved here from New York?” 

“L-long Island, um, yeah,” he managed to get out, starting to think of all the ways he wanted to disappear into the Canadian wilderness out of embarrassment. 

“What’s it like there? What’s there to do?” she asked him, Quinn slowly inching away from them. 

“Uh, leave.” As soon as the words left his lips, he shut his eyes, hoping that when he opened them, he would discover that the stupid things he said didn’t happen and were just a dream. He opened his eyes to see Scarlett biting her lip, trying not to laugh at him. 

She took a sip of her drink, not breaking eye contact and making Anthony’s heart skip in the process. “You’re either way too drunk to be talking to someone right now, or I, for some reason, make you really nervous.” 

Anthony lets out a sigh, a smile on his face. “What if I told you it was both?” 

There was something about the laugh that escaped her lips after he told her that that made him forget everything. He swore he blacked out while talking to her, but not from the alcohol. He had never felt more sober than that first time he met her. He remembered nothing about that night except the way her eyes lit up when she smiled, a crooked smile spreading across her face when she was flirting with him, the way he knew heat was rushing to her face, probably from the second hand embarrassment of him attempting to flirt back. 

“So, you and that girl looked pretty cozy last night,” Brock teased him the next morning after practice. None of them had been particularly happy that they were called for last minute drills, all of them sweating the alcohol from the night before more than anything else. 

“Are you in love?” Quinn teased, his voice dripping with that pre-teen gooeyness that got under Anthony’s skin.

“I just met her,” he started.

“Love at first sight exists, my friend,” Elias joins in, hitting Anthony hard enough on his back that he nearly fell out of his stall. 

“Dear god, I need to go back to New York,” Anthony groans, drowned out by the sounds of his teammates laughing. 

“There’s no way Long Island is better than here,” they kept going.

“We called it the ‘God forsaken island,’ growing up,” Quinn added, the guys laughing even harder as they continued to rib Anthony. 

“I liked you all better when you didn’t know me.” 

“You know we like you better when we make fun of you,” Elias tried to reassure him. “Have you at least talked to her since last night?”

“How would I do that?”

“You got her number?” Quinn questioned. 

Anthony tried to think back to the night before, failing to remember anything past his initial meeting with Scarlett and the absolute fear that he felt trying to talk to her in those first few minutes. “When did that happen?”

“Right after the eighth green tea shot.”

“You let me have eight?” 

“Scarlett kept buying. I wasn’t going to argue with her,” Quinn said, holding his hands up in defense. “We tried to get you to stop, but after the third one, you threatened to pour them all over Brock.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t going to let you get my white shirt dirty.”

“God forbid you get your five dollar Walmart shirt a little dirty with some alcohol.”

“Hey, no-”

“Guys!” Anthony finally cut in, his teammates all turning to look at him. “I don’t have her number.”

“Have you looked at your phone since last night?”

“Only to turn off my alarm when it was still on ‘do not disturb.’”

“Scarlett a hundred percent has texted you already if you haven’t texted her. She’s not one to wait for days for a guy to reach out to her,” Quinn told him. 

“I don’t think I like that you know so much about her,” Anthony mumbled.

“I met her the first weekend I was here my rookie year and she somehow has appeared in my life every weekend since. Check your phone.” 

The guys start to file out and head home, Anthony and Quinn sitting there by themselves. Anthony didn’t even know what he would say to her. How does he start a conversation with a girl he barely knows, who he was too nervous to talk to the night before? 

“You make her sound like a stalker,” Anthony sighed, trying to search for his phone. 

“I’ve known her for years and she hasn’t stalked anyone.”

“That you know of.”

“You miss a hundred percent of the shots you don’t take.”

“And that is the closest to being Gretzky that you’ll ever be.”

“Just check your phone. You were babbling like a dumbass the second you met her. I haven’t known you for as long as I’ve known her, but I definitely know you well enough that you don’t act like that around girls. Ever.” 

Quinn finally got up to head home, leaving Anthony alone in their locker room to do as he pleased. 

Anthony sat back in his stall, letting his head hit the back and getting engulfed in his clothing hanging behind him. What would he even text her? Is it too soon to text her? How could he send anything that would be good enough for her to want to respond?

He finally pulled out his phone to start going through his notifications. News from around the league, random DMs from people on Instagram, a text from his mom that he would forget to respond to until after she was asleep for the night, and a message from someone with just an emoji as their contact. It was the blushing emoji, Anthony remembering Scarlett telling him that her friends called her ‘Scar,’ and that was the first emoji that popped up when someone tried to search for her name. 

‘So how often do you get a girl's number and not text them back after that night?’

Anthony couldn’t figure out if the banging was just the throbbing headache he had or someone actually at his door. 

“What the fuck could you possibly be doing here this early?” he groaned at his teammates standing at this door. 

“It’s 2 pm,” Quinn says, pushing his way into Anthony’s apartment without an invite, coffees and bags of food in hand.

  “It was either us doing the wellness check or the police,” Brock adds, flopping down on the couch and sending Anthony’s phone on to the floor. 

“I don’t trust them to drive safely anywhere after they’ve spent the night drinking, so I had to come, unfortunately,” Elias tells Anthony, picking up his phone off the ground and handing it to him. “Has that girl texted you back yet?” 

Anthony’s head whipped up in shock. He really had no memory of last night. “Girl?” 

“Yeah, you know, those who identify with she and her pronouns?” Quinn says, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Can you be a girl and not use those pronouns?” Brock asks while chomping on a bagel. 

“Very important questions for a later time, please,” Anthony interrupts, trying to look through his contacts to see if there was any name he didn’t recognize. “What girl?”

“You don’t remember?”

Anthony sat on the couch next to Brock, throwing his head back and letting out a guttural sigh. “Why would I remember anything from last night? That would make my life so much easier, and obviously, we can’t have that.” There was no way he could meet a girl and not remember her, right? There was no way he could possibly have drank that much alcohol to the point where he blacked out if he was with his teammates. 

“Not your usual type, but still pretty.” 

“She was hitting on Quinn first.”

“She was not.”

“She only stopped because you’re too dense to realize when someone is hitting on you.” 

“You could have had a relationship for the last five years if you picked up on that girl in the coffee shop.”

“That’s-” “Hello?” Anthony interrupts his teammates. “We were talking about me?” 

“Oh, yeah,” Brock says. “You really don’t remember the girl who bought you like four of the drinks you had?” 

‘ ‘What are you doing today?’ came up on Anthony’s phone from an unknown number. 

Scarlett had called him immediately after he sent his text to make sure he was ok. “Ti,” came through his speaker, the nickname she called him that made his heart race for no reason. “It’s two in the morning, what do you mean what am I doing today?” 

“I want to see you today,” Anthony slurred, drunk from his night with his teammates after winning the first round of the playoffs. 

“Only if you promise to get some water right now,” she giggled. “You know you forget to hydrate when you’re celebrating.” 

“Come out with us. I want to see you.” 

“I am in bed already,” she said, hearing Anthony let out a drunken groan. “I’m going to be helping Brooke at her street fair stand in the afternoon, I can meet you after that for you to take me on a date then.” 

“I want to take you out now,” he whined. 

“Dinner tomorrow at your favorite restaurant. You’ll pay.”

“I’ll pay.” 

Scarlett hung up before Anthony could say anything else.

The next morning, he woke up on Quinn’s couch, Elias sitting on the chair, Brock on the floor for who knows what reason. He didn’t even remember getting back to Quinn’s apartment, let alone how he ended up on the couch. 

“Why are we here?” Anthony asked, no one in particular.  

“I was the most sober of the four of us,” he heard Quinn yell from the kitchen. 

Following his teammates' voice, he attempted to get up, a pounding headache nearly knocking him off his feet. “How did that happen?”

“I’m not sure, but I fucking hated it,” Quinn mumbled. “Even Elias threw up four times last night.” 

“It might be five times soon,” Elias said, stumbling into the kitchen behind Anthony. 

“Good morning sunshines,” Brock yelled, groans coming from all three guys in the kitchen. “What’s everyone doing today after we get breakfast together?”

“Plotting your murder,” Elias muttered massaging his head with his fingers as if he were trying to will the hangover away through that method.

“At least wait till our season is done for that.”

“I think I’m seeing Scarlett,” Anthony said, trying to remember if his conversion with her the night before was real or not.��

Quinn hands out cups of coffee, a confused look on his face. “Like, you’re seeing her right now? In the room with us?”

“What’s it like having two brain cells that constantly have to fight for third place?” Anthony groaned, “No, you dumbass, I mean tonight. I’m seeing her tonight.”

“You’re finally going to see her somewhere that isn’t a bar and in a state that isn’t halfway fucked?” 

“I actually think I’m going to join Elias in murdering you,” Anthony countered. 

“You can’t hang out with Scarlett if you’re in jail for murdering me.” 

“What are you going to do with her today?” Elias asked, changing the subject. 

“I have no idea. I might be paying for whatever it is we do, though.” 

Anthony spent the rest of the morning getting annoyed at his teammates as they teased him, calling him a simp for Scarlett when he had only interacted with her in person while they were both drunk. They hadn’t even been on a real date yet. Scarlett telling him to take her out that night was going to be their first. 

“Look, I need to impress her,” he cuts them off after they get back to Quinn’s place. “So either you are all going to help me figure out how I do that, or I’m going to put in for a trade request in the off season.” 

The four of them managed to put together a plan that didn’t make Tito want to kill them. The first step was to go to Prototype, her favorite coffee shop in the city, and getting drinks for her and Brooke and surprising them at Brooke’s street fair. He had their orders saved in his phone for god only knows what reason, but he knew they would come in handy at some point. 

“We should come, too,” Quinn said, grabbing his stuff to follow Anthony out the door. 

“You should not,” Anthony protested. 

“We want to see what you’re like out of your natural habitat,” Brock teased.

“What the ever living fuck does that mean?”

“I think it means they want to see you try to flirt with her when you’re sober,” Elias translated.

“No. Nope. You three are not coming.” 

“You don’t have a car to get yourself anywhere and you still don’t know how to navigate the public transit system here.” 

“Fuck.” 

Anthony reluctantly let his teammates take him where he needed to go, hoping that he could lose them at the massive street fair that Brooke and Scarlett were working. Thankfully, his teammates had the attention span of squirrels, soon veering off from him and leaving him to wander with a tray of three drinks, hoping to impress the girl he desperately wanted to see sooner than that night. 

“Ti?” he heard from behind him. “Anthony, what are you doing here?”

He turned to see Scarlett walking up to him from across a sea of people, her smile alone making him lose all brain function. He should have known she would have the same effect on him sober as she did when he was drunk. “I, um,” he started, trying to remember what his reasoning for being there even was to begin with. Why did he have to see her so early when all she did was make him freak out in the best way possible? “I brought you coffee.”

He practically spilled it down the front of her by shoving it into her chest. “Um, thank you?”

“And for Brooke, too.” 

“Oh! You haven’t even met her yet?” 

“You told me that you two have the same favorite coffee order from Prototype, so I just got two of them,” he told her, feeling his cheeks turn bright pink. 

She gave him a soft smile, clearly impressed that he would remember not only her order, just her best friends, no matter how simple they were. “I knew you were a good one.” 

“Do you want us to text her?” Brock asks, craning his neck to try to read over Anthony’’s shoulder at his phone. 

“We can tell her you’re a good one,” Elias offers, the first hint of sincerity coming through his voice that none of his other teammates had shown to him all night. 

“Or that you’re bad,” Quinn draws out. 

“I’m not a thirteen year old boy trying to text his middle school crush, Jesus Christ.” 

“Tell her you’re like him,” Quinn adds. 

“You’re Jewish, I thought you don’t believe in him,” Elias asks. 

“Well, yeah, but he was still a historical figure. We just don’t believe the religious aspect that-”

“Hey!” Anthony interrupts, again. “Am I just here as comic relief?”

“You have to be funny to be considered that.”

“Ok, I’m leaving,” Anthony gets up from the couch, only to be pulled back down by Brock.

“We’re teasing you. You know this. And we’re in your apartment, where are you going to go?” 

“What do I do?” Anthony groans, throwing his head back with his hands over his eyes. 

“Text her back or ignore her.” 

“No, I mean,” he groans again, “I texted Scarlett last night.” Much to his surprise, he’s met with silence from his friends for the first time that morning. “That’s what shuts you up?”

The three of them exchange worried glances, making Anthony’s heart race and head throb even more than the hangover already had. He knew drinking anything was going to make him do something stupid. He just didn’t think his teammates would also agree. 

He handed them his phone, letting them see the string of stupidity from the night before. 

“There’s no way you texted her all of this,” Brock said.

“You can literally see the texts on his screen,” Elias groans. 

“God, you’re an idiot,” Scarlett told him between kissing him, one hand on the back of his neck pulling him towards her, the other on his guiding it towards her waist. 

Anthony didn’t know what to say as he felt every inch of her, pulling her back towards his bed. He sat down, his lips still connected to hers. Scarlett straddled his waist, her fingers gracing the hem of his shirt.

‘God, this has to be perfect,’ raced through Anthony’s mind, every other thought that wasn’t about Scarlett unable to break through his brain. His heart started racing as the two of them took off his shirt, fiddling with hers next to slip it off over her head, Anthony wanting nothing more than for his lips to be back on hers as fast as possible. 

He moved her off his lap, gently pushing her onto her back. He took a moment, both of them catching their breath while Anthony’s heart continued to race. “Wow,” he let out, Scarlett giggling at him. “You are just.” He couldn’t find the words to describe who she was, his mind still blank from anything other than her name. 

“Do you want to…” she asked, drifting off, her eyes traveling down his body. 

“Oh, god, yes.” Anthony said, crashing his lips to hers, feeling her smile against his.

‘This has to be perfect,’ kept running through Anthony’s head as they stripped more of what they were wearing, piece by piece. ‘She’s perfect so this has to be perfect.’

 She was ready. He could feel she was ready. But Anthony?

“Hey, hey, wait,” she stopped him. “Are you ok?”

He hung his head down, her hands pushing his hair back off his face. “I’m so sorry.” 

“We can stop, if you want to,” her voice came out small, clearly upset. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, rolling off her, unable to look at her. The two of them lied there in silence, a long pause that made Anthony more anxious by the second. 

“Are we ok?” Scarlett asked, finally breaking the silence. 

Anthony stared at the ceiling, trying to figure out what to say. “Yes?”

He heard her sigh, getting up to put her clothes back on. “Let me know when you’re sure,” she said to him, leaving his room. 

As soon as he heard his front door shut, he covered his face with his hands, letting out a deep groan. He wanted it to be perfect. He had been trying so hard to make everything for her as perfect as he was able to make it. Why the fuck did he have to get into his head like that. 

Anthony reached for his phone, pulling up the group chat with his teammates. ‘Who can come here ASAP?’ he sent, putting his phone back on his nightstand without even waiting for an answer, rolling over immediately and pulling his sheets over his face. 

Anthony didn’t know how long he had been asleep, hearing his front door open while he was still in his bed, his clothing strewn across his floor. 

“Tito, where are you?” he heard Elias’s voice carry through his place.

“Fuck,” he muttered, throwing himself out of bed to try to find something resembling pants before they could make it to his bedroom. 

“Tit-oh.” Quinn said, bursting through his bedroom door before he could fully get his sweatpants on. “Guys I found him.” “Jesus, Quinn,” Anthony said, nearly falling over. “You couldn’t wait?”

“Had to make sure you weren’t dead,” Brock said, spraying a mouth full of crumbs of who knows what everywhere, Elias following him with an annoyed expression. “We thought you were with Scarlett tonight.”

“He clearly was,” Elias said, gesturing to the mess that was his bedroom at the moment. 

“So what, you finished, she left, and your first thought was to call us?” Quinn asked, plopping down on Anthony’s bed, Brock following suit. 

Elias and Anthony took the floor, his three teammates trying to read the expression on his face. “No, I didn’t finish.” 

“With Scarlett?”

“I didn’t even,” Anthony started, putting his face back in his hands. “I didn’t even start.”

“Oh,” was all he heard from Elias, Brock and Quinn both silent for once. “We thought you really liked her?”

“God, yes, I do,” Anthony said. “This was supposed to be the first time we slept together and I fucked it up.” 

“That happens,” Elias shrugged. 

“It’s not even just that. She asked if we were ok and I couldn’t answer her.” 

“Why would you do that?” Quinn asked.

“I panicked. I’ve been panicking. Since the first time I saw her, I have been freaking out because she deserves more than what I can give her, and it fucks me up,” he let out, surprised he was even able to put anything into words. “I mean, Brock, you had to physically push me to her because I was frozen. Quinn stood there when I couldn’t even talk to her. We were all here the night I freaked out because I didn’t know how to text her, or what to do for our first date. I have been out of my mind about her since the second I saw her, and because of that I have fucked up so badly, I don’t know if she wants to see me ever again.” 

“Ok, you told her last night you wanted to see her,” Brock reads out. 

“When was the last time you saw her?”

“That night she left my apartment when we tried to…” Anthony trails off, not really wanting to recount the night again.

“What about the last time that you talked to her?” Quinn asks, handing Anthony his phone back. 

“She had called me one night after a game a few days later to say that she was sorry she left that night the way she did but she was upset that I didn’t have an answer for her.” 

“And?”

“And we talked it out, I thought we were fine, she said we would talk later, and neither of us reached out again.” 

“So you both ghosted each other until you sent her a bunch of drunk texts last night,” Quinn says.

Anthony groans, throwing his head back again. “Fuck, yes, Quinn. What do I do?”

“Well she hasn’t answered yet, so she either hasn’t seen it or also doesn’t know what to do.” 

“At least start with telling her you were drunk and that you’re sorry you sent all of those  texts,” Elias suggests. 

“Or we go over to her place and you ask her yourself.” The three of them look at Brock, Quinn, and Elias liking the idea, Anthony absolutely mortified. “I mean, you haven’t seen her in a while, you haven’t talked to her in a while, and drunk you clearly wanted to change that last night.”

“What about sober you, right now?” Quinn asks.

“Hungover me,” Anthony corrects, “Wants to go to bed until sober me reappears.” 

“Well that won’t be until tomorrow,” Brock points out, “So what would sober you want to do?”

Anthony smiles, his teammates knowing what he wants to do, what he’s wanted to do since that first night at the bar.

“I’ve got the keys,” Elias says, the four of them rushing out the door. 

Anthony felt his heart racing as Elias drove through the city, surprised he even knew where Scarlett’s building was. By the time he pulled up, his palms were soaked, his throat was dry, his legs anxiously unable to stop shaking. The guys had to practically throw him out the door, Anthony having no idea what the hell he was going to say. 

He managed to get up to her apartment, thankful that he was well known enough that the doorperson let him in, worried that the security was loose enough that they just let him in at the same time. He knocked on her door, finally starting to calm down as he waited for her. 

Anthony didn’t hear any movement in her apartment, knocking again after waiting for what felt like forever. He felt his phone buzz, a text in the group chat asking how it was going from Quinn, immediately followed up by Elias scolding him. 

He knocked a third time, hoping that she would answer. 

She wasn’t there. That, or she was ignoring whoever was at the door, given that he was showing up unannounced. 

He turns back around, heading back down to Elias’s car, letting them know he was waiting for the elevator. 

The door opened, Anthony moving to the side to let the person already there off while reading the texts that were flooding in from his teammates. 

“Anthony?” he hears, forcing him to look up from his phone.

“Scarlett,” he lets out, both of them smiling at each other. 

[unchangingeverchanging]

Welcome~💜 This is a "better" pinned post

Hello hello everyone (≧∇≦)ﾉ! This might be an attempt or fully commit to it as a better and updated pinned post, i will try and go through the character, AUs, and most prominent things about them! But first, a brief introduction about me!

Raghi is the name (or at least the online nickname), but you can call me whichever you like even if it was adressing me by my Wol! I casually play and obsess about games (the normal amount), mediocre Gposer but i try my best, pretty introverted and fairly shy around people so please don't take any offense if i'm barely answering/showing the same enthusiasm you show me 🙏🏻! I'm slowly trying to break out of my shell, and be assured i appreciate you all! also english isn't my first language, therefore, turn a blind eye to any typos i make :'3c.

with that being said lets start with the main thing!

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ The Wol: Auregie Chieve (canon)

Once a loyal paladin, now a brutal reaper. A Sharlayan born aristocrat, orphaned at the age of 12 after a garlean ambush as her and her parents were traveling the Black Shroud for business purposes, during the attack, along with the loss of her parents she sadly lost her left eye while attempting to flee which led her to wear an eyepatch for years, later on her husband gifted her a prosthetic eye to help and lift up her self esteem, she was also gifted a different colored eye by a dear friend of hers. She now lives happily with her small family back in Sharlayan. She has natural white hair with purple highlights, post 6.5 her hair was changed to black due to an incident and now in 7.0 it is half and half.

Age: mid-to-late 20s.

Relationship status: Married

No. of kids: 1 (for now)

Likes: Cats, sweets, coffee and teas, long hours of sleep and quiet.

Dislikes: Anyone getting in her way, the sea, loud and crowded places.

Hobbies: she likes to knit when she's bored.

Mini fact: She has Heterochromia and a cute heart mark on her cheek, these features are from her dad whom she resembles the most.

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Euphrosyne (ancient)

(Funny enough i named her that waaaay before the raid came out XD) Euphrosyne, or as she likes to be called Rafa, is Emet-Selch's little sister. She took upon the seat of Halmarut after she was choosen for it thanks to her affinity and talents in botony and mycology. She spent most of her time teaching in Akadaemia before the final days.

Age: Unknown.

Relationship status: Married, in a poly relationship.

No. of kids: 2

Likes: Books, plants obviously, creating new species, filling out paperworks.

Dislikes: Lahabrea (sorry laha lovers)

Mini fact: She is a Red and White mage. Her mask is the shape of a butterfly.

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Scion Auregie (AU):

Where she has not been blessed by the Echo, she leads an entirely different life. As a close friend to the Leveilleur family, she was taught by none other than master Louisoix before she finished her studies in the Studium. Auregie was encouraged by Moenbryda to acquire her Archon mark as she thought she fully deserved it. as how Yda and Moenbryda were close, so was Auregie with her that she developed a crush on her. Suffice to say she grieved for quiet some time, which made her miss out on the very fun banquet, but had to dust herself off and aid Alphinaud and Wol to find the missing scions. During her time in Ishgard, she worked closely with lord Aymeric and Lucia, by the end of the Dragonsong war, Auregie and Lucia became a couple. She's an all-rounder but mains as a Black mage, her studies heavily involved voidsents (she took part in the Void Ark storyline). She has a few differencies than canon Auregie but the rest should be the same.

Relationship status: Engaged (to be married post EW)

Hobbies: Playing the violin, spending money anywhere she can, mixing new tea blends.

Mini fact: She lives in Ishgard as of late, but visits her family whenever she can.

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Laetitia wir Galvus (Ascien Au):

TBA~ 🤫 (i worked on her lore for a few years now but she shall be known in due time)

Age: N/A.

Relationship status: N/A.

No. of kids: N/A.

Likes: N/A.

Dislikes: N/A.

Hobbies: N/A.

Mini fact: N/A.

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And that is all for now! sorry for the lengthy post! My Asks are open for any further questions, and if you want to find me anywhere else you can reach out on the links below O(∩_∩)O: ♥ Twitter (not much to see there other than reposting art) ♥ Bluesky (fairly new) ♥ You can chat with me on Discord (DM for the handle)

[jessy-the-martian-girl]

Okay, I´ve finally finished it. And I've started on June, 2nd. This story was intended to be something short and fluffy, but it turned out bigger and with some sad themes (loss of a close relative in particular, and attempts at coping with it).

~5.7k words. Luis x OC.

Sorry for any mistakes and typos. Some things might seem weird - as I'm not completely sure if real people do talk like that.

Idea: Beach day with Luis.

Summary: Sea and cats are the best cure for the soul.

By the Sea at the Edge of Forever

“The sea is everything. It covers seven tenths of the terrestrial globe. Its breath is pure and healthy. It is an immense desert, where man is never lonely, for he feels life stirring on all sides. The sea is only the embodiment of a supernatural and wonderful existence. It is nothing but love and emotion; it is the Living Infinite. ”

― Jules Verne, Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea

- So, this is your hometown, eh? - Luis could not resist asking this question in the late evening, when the priority tasks were finished.

Other relatives and friends of Jessy's brother were notified of time and date of the funeral. The newfound cats were fed, the minimum cleaning in the apartment was done too. Even soothing tea was brewed and handed to a young dark-haired woman, who looked pretty upset by this sad event.

- Almost, - the girl who settled in Serra's arms smiled mirthlessly and, after taking a sip of tea, continued even without more questions. - My parents moved here when I was a little less than a year old. For the climate, they said. Sea air, and all that, you know...

- Speaking of sea air... Maybe we can go to any beach? - the Spaniard felt that he was treading on uneasy territory, but he also felt the urge to cheer up his girlfriend. - I once heard that cure for everything is salt water: tears, sweat and the sea...

Silence fell over the room. For a while, Jessica just sat there, clutching a mug of tea with both hands, as if trying to warm up her fingers. But when Serra was starting to worry that he might've crossed a line with this proposal, beyond which she would simply stop talking to him (just after asking him to leave), the girl emerged from her trance and finally answered.

- You know, I dig this idea of yours, - she turned a little in the ring of hands to see the face of her Spaniard. - I've had enough tears for now. There is one small beach here, quite secluded. I like it. But it's not easy to get to it, and your back...

- It's fine, mi luz, - Luis smiled at her reassuringly. - I'm in pretty good shape already, such a walk won't hurt me.

- Well, okay then, - still, Jessy decided to play it safe. - However, we can always change the route and stop at any other place on the coast. It's not the high season, so it's not like there will be no free space on the beach.

- ¡Bien! - the Spaniard beamed and hugged his girlfriend a little closer, mindful about the mug of hot tea in her hands. - Then we'll leave tomorrow morning.

The next morning came quickly. And while Luis was cooking breakfast, despite the cats' attempts to sabotage all the preparations (or, at least, to get these new people to take their feline friends with them wherever they were going), Jessy went on with packing stuff they would need. Surprisingly, this apartment still had some of her belongings, although she has not been living here for almost a year: working, traveling, getting stuck in that mess in Spain and staying by Serra's side at the hospital and even after that...

Two small backpacks readily accepted beach towels and a compact beach mat, sunscreen lotion, water and a light snack (sandwiches with butter and cheese, dates and a few oranges)... Besides, she managed to rearrange the contents of the backpacks so that Luis got a lighter one. The same stab wound on his back that almost ended his life was healed, of course, but doctor's orders were to avoid any serious strain until the end of the rehabilitation period. And there were at least a few more weeks before it, so the girl did not want to worsen the condition of the person so dear to her. Also she was used to go hiking with a backpack three times heavier and it was not a big deal for her.

Among her clothes left in this apartment brunette unexpectedly found men's swim shorts, which she once bought for herself as a part of beach outfit. But they remained brand new as Jessy never dared to wear this piece in public because of unusual design with pictures of turtles in various poses from the Kama Sutra. Luis, on the other hand, didn't have any problems with that, he just grinned at the offering and tried the shorts on to make sure it suited his size.

After having breakfast and, at Jessy's insistence, applying sunscreen on their faces and hands, the couple set off. At first they went by public transport almost to the outskirts of this small coastal town, and then by foot, along forest trails. They tried to keep slightly away from the wider road: though its condition was terrifying, there still were some reckless souls who seemingly enjoyed bumpy and dusty car rides.

On their way Serra chatted almost incessantly about all and everything at once. He even told a story how he learned to read animal tracks as a child. Then he asked something about the surrounding area, and, after listening to the answer, gave out a new bunch of questions. But as they came to the seashore, he stopped mid-sentence and stared in fascination at the expanse of water spreading before his eyes. Jessica sighed happily by his side - she had always harbored deep love for the sea, and now she was glad to share this love with someone significant.

- Well, hello, here we are, - the girl said softly, wiping away the welled up tears and not being afraid to seem ridiculous because of this and because of her words addressed to the majestic water element.

For some reason, she was absolutely sure that Luis *would understand* that. And he did, silently squeezing her cold fingers in his warm hands.

- Perhaps, we will have to walk in the water somewhere, and, please, be careful with stones, even large ones, - brunette gave out the warning on the rights of someone who had scouted all the surroundings in her childhood. - I was about six years old, and that stone seemed very reliable... As a result, twisted leg, slightly cut arms... And my dad and my brother took turns carrying me back to town.

At the mention of her relatives, Jessy´s voice quivered, but she managed to regain control of her emotions.

- Point taken, - the Spaniard nodded seriously, adjusted the straps of his backpack and, wincing from the short jolt of pain in his left arm, added with his usual charming smile. - Vamos, I can't wait to see that beach you were talking about with such a dreamy expression on your face.

And they headed to the border of the first beach, where the sand was almost hidden beneath rather large stones. Jessy was leading the way, maneuvering between those stones with ease, but never forgetting to cast a side glance at her companion to make sure that he was all right and that she wasn't too fast for him. Well, another reason for those glances was to take some sweet time to admire Serra's grace.

It turned out soon, that their's timing for such trip was not very great. The high tide period quickly had them taking off their shoes and rolling up their pant legs. However, the first water obstacle also had an unexpected effect: Jessica barely took a couple of steps only knee-deep in water and froze, feeling sudden dizziness and nausea. The water was so clear and shimmering that it was hard to understand what real depth lied ahead. Some underwater stones and common unevenness of the bottom only added to said effect of uncertainty. The brunette almost offered to turn back, unable to overcome this weakness combined with irrational fear of suddenly going under water, but then Luis was the first to step forward and, turning around, held out his hand to her.

- Hold tight and look at me, not at the water, - understanding and care were reflecting in his gray eyes, and confidence that nothing bad would happen.

Jessy nodded and, clutching to the offered hand, also took a step. She almost went off balance immediately, but Luis never allowed her to fall, simply pressing her to his chest and letting to wait out this dizzy spell. Her next step was much more confident, but she never let go of her Spaniard's hand. Fortunately, there wasn't much distance left to go, and just a little bit longer before their intended destination.

The entrance to that small beach was partially covered by a pile of stones — and without knowing that there was a passage there, it could be easily missed. Jessica confidently dived into this very passage, waving to Serra to keep up. To a casual observer it would seem as if they had vanished into the barrier. And there they were met by light sea breeze, gentle sun and salty spray. The couple could also hear the even roar of the surf, accompanied by the rustle of stones carried away by the waves. And absolutely black sand was quite striking addition to the view.

- Vaya, - the Spaniard breathed out in pure fascination. - How beautiful...

- It is, - the girl responded quietly, leaning into her man's shoulder. - I've missed this place so much...

They dropped the backpacks and set up the place for their base camp, spreading the beach mat and pinning it down with suitable cobbles so that it wouldn't be blown away.

- There is a natural pool of a kind here, that area surrounded by rocks, about waist-deep for me... The water usually warms up faster in there, - and Jessica fell silent, realizing that yesterday she was so desperate for any kind of distraction that she did not even ask what exactly they plan to do on the beach. - By the way... You *can* swim, right?

- Only in fresh water, - Luis, who has already managed to pull off his shirt and jeans and even settle on the mat, saw the mentioned "pool" and smiled in anticipation. - There was a swimming pool at the uni, and we didn't always have our lake contaminated with that... thing. But I haven't got a chance to swim in the sea yet.

- It's said it's easier to swim in salty water, it pushes you to the surface, - the girl relaxed a bit and reached for a bottle of sunscreen. - Do you want me to help with your back? The forecast said that sun can be quite active today.

- And why only my back is worthy of your attention? - the Spaniard pretended to be indignant, nevertheless obediently turning over on his stomach. - What about the rest parts of my body?

- Well, if you insist... - Jessy readily played along, squeezing the lotion onto the man's back and applying it with confident movements on his shoulders and neck, trying not to disturb that new scar under his left shoulder blade. Skin at that place was still too sensitive.

She even touched top of his ears with the lotion out of an old habit, explaining to Serra, who jerked in surprise, that people rarely think that such body parts need protection too, and sunburned ears are really unpleasant experience.

- The only thing worse is getting the scalp sunburned in the parting, - the girl giggled, recalling that *unforgettable* experience of hers. - Moreover, no one believes you when you get sunburns in such weird places. So, roll over and let's continue.

A new portion of the sunscreen was squeezed on a broad chest with the older scar, and soft hands got back to work — gently rubbing the lotion onto chest, arms, stomach... Throughout the process gray eyes were never turning away from brunette's slightly smiling face. However, when those hands slipped on his sides, Serra tried to squirm out from under the light touches.

- Don't, Jess, - the man pleaded through involuntary laughter. - Por favor...

- Sorry, sunshine, - the girl quickly removed her hands and gently touched the tip of her beloved's nose with her finger, leaving a little bit of lotion there. - I guess, you'd better finish this on your own.

While Serra was finishing with his face and legs, his companion got rid of her T—shirt and hiking pants, fished out from her backpack another bottle with a sunscreen of higher SPF, and began to apply the protective coating. With her rather pale skin using a more powerful remedy was quite a logical choice.

- And now it's your turn, - the Spaniard almost purred, not even trying to hide a playful glint in his eyes. - Get down and hand me your lotion.

Jessica stretched out on the beach mat with a smile, exposing her back to the man who knelt next to her, ready to return the favor. Suddenly it dawned on Jessy that she really trusted Luis. Not forcing herself to trust him - it was simply there. During their "Spanish adventure" she had absolutely no time to stop and muse about such things, but now the realization has finally caught up with her.

She only instinctively tensed for a second when deft fingers unhooked the top of her swimsuit. It was a public place, after all, and she was not quite ready for being that explicit. It felt just like a quick test for developed trust, so Jessy relaxed. Luis still noticed her reaction and stopped to explain his intentions.

- This is just to cover all of your skin, - his words did not diverge from the deed, with strong hands smoothly sliding along the curves of the female body, carefully wrapping it with an even layer of sunscreen. - The straps and belt are too thin, if they shift, you won't like the outcome.

- Been there, done that, - the brunette admitted with a stifled chuckle, patiently waiting until the Spaniard hooked everything back, in order to roll over on her back and put her chest and stomach under his caring hands.

Of course, she could have managed on her own from that point, but it felt so nice to be taken care of, that the girl just mentally shushed her inner voice and allowed herself to revel in such an uncommon feeling.

They chatted a bit more, while waiting for the sunscreen to "cure" on their skin. Jessy shared a couple of funny sea-related stories from her past. Though shocked expression on Spaniard's face openly hinted her that the particular story about her almost drowning at the age of five was not that funny as it seemed to her.

- Hey, it was okay, - she tried to lighten the mood. - My dad was close by. He plucked me out of water in no time. It was not enough time for me even to get scared.

- I just can't imagine that I could've never met you, if it wasn't for your dad... - Serra whispered, slightly shaking his head and reaching with his hand to touch the shoulder of his vis-à-vis as if to make sure she was still real.

- But I made it to this day nonetheless, - brunette shrugged and smiled warmly.

After a few more minutes of silence Luis easily got to his feet and stretched out his hand to Jessica, helping her to get up. Then he pulled her towards the "natural pool", not letting go of girl's hand. The water, however, was not yet fully warmed up, but it already felt quite pleasant. And it was much, much warmer than in the mountain creeks in the wilderness of Valdelobos, as the Spaniard mentally noted.

As soon as Jessy was knee-deep in the water, she stopped for a while and took a deep breath, taking some time to adjust to the temperature. And then, gently freeing her hand from Serra's hold, she pushed off from the sandy bottom and slid into the water with a soft exclamation. The first dive after a long break was always a little uncomfortable for her and required some efforts. After taking a couple of strokes, the girl swiftly turned over on her back, exposing her face to the sun and letting the water catch her. Fortunately, there were no big waves this time.

Luis followed suit right away, relaxing on his back close by and just occasionally touching his girlfriend's hand or shoulder with his own. His pose was an expression of a tacit agreement for "no active long-distance swims yet".

After floating in the water like this for a little, they slowly swam together to the stone borderline that separated this small lagoon from the open sea. The couple settled there, enjoying beautiful views of the sea or their secluded beach.

Jessica, in gentle reverie, admired how small waves rolled over hardly visible rocks in the water and crashed on the shore. And Luis, amazed by the transparency of the water, tried to look at the bottom of their improvised pool — his gaze was captivated by nimble fish, colorful starfish, colonies of shellfish and corals. Suddenly, an unusually shaped shell lying a little further away caught his eye, and Serra decided to dive for it to get a better look. It took him a few tries, and it also got Jessy's attention. Finally resurfacing with the loot, Luis turned the find over in his hands, then handed it to his girl. She put the shell on the palm of her hand, but suddenly, with an ouch, shook off the object of study into the water.

- What's wrong? - Serra asked, with concern evident in his voice.

- Something pinched me, - the brunette was obviously embarrassed by her own reaction. - Not that it hurts much, more like I just didn't expect it...

The Spaniard examined Jessy's palm for possible damage, then looked for this shell again. When he spotted it, he carefully knelt down, plunging into the water almost up to his shoulders, and took the shell out, turning its aperture to the light. Something with pincers was clearly stirring inside.

- Oh, so it's one of the Paguroidea species, - Luis smiled involuntarily. - I didn't think they can be found here too. - A hermit crab? - Jessica instantly forgot about her palm and, literally hanging on the Spaniard's shoulders, stared curiously at the shell resident, who was clearly dissatisfied with such intense attention. - This is the first time I've ever seen one, not on TV, not in the aquarium and not in the encyclopedia. Awesome!

- They are usually not aggressive to bigger opponents, - Serra nodded, watching how a representative of marine fauna menacingly moved its claw. - We seem to have just scared this one. - Let's put it back to its natural habitat then, - Jessica expressed their shared thought, adding with a chuckle. - As long as it doesn't come back to bite our heels for this.

- It'll rather be glad that it was released and will not risk another encounter, - Luis laughed heartily, arranging the shell in the water closer to the stone barrier.

The girl also laughed at this joke and hugged her man as he swam closer to her again.

- You know, it's warmer around you, - the Spaniard suddenly remarked in a soft voice, returning the hug. - You're like a little sun with an aura of warmth. To hide her embarrassment at such a compliment, Jessy splashed this eloquent subject and, with a laugh, twisted out of his hands, trying to swim away. This unexpected childishness resulted in a small water duel, which ended in a draw. Or, as the girl proclaimed: "friendship always wins!" - after which, with her arms outstretched, she fell backwards into a small wave, raising a cloud of salty spray... only to be almost immediately back in the firm embrace. Luis was glad that his crazy idea worked and his querida is still able to enjoy simple things. Even after such great loss. Only the shadow of guilt lurking in her hazel eyes kept him a bit worried. He himself had only one night *then*. Afterwards there was no time: his studies and the need to provide his living completely absorbed even hints of free time for several years. He managed, and developed the mask of “a good-for-nothing guy, who happens to be quite a ladies' man”. And under that mask there was an acute, painful sense of guilt: he was not there, he could not help, he did not prevent... Now his own experience seemed to be quite useful. Luis could roughly imagine the direction of his girl's thoughts, and see where it would be possible to intervene and lend her a shoulder. After all, even the strongest and most hardy at some point may break down.

- Let's go back to the shore and get some sun? - the brunette, who went quiet in his arms, offered hesitantly.

Her fingers were absentmindedly tracing some patterns on his chest, and it was... rather pleasant.

- I like the idea, mi vida, - Serra planted soft kiss on his girlfriend's temple and pushed her in the right direction. - A snack would be nice too.

The sea did not quite share their intentions, trying to knock the pair down, like a too playful puppy would, and then drag them back into its depth. Thankfully, it was much easier to get out together.

After drying off with beach towels, the couple paid the closest attention to their food supplies. Sandwiches with cheese and dates were delicious, although the sea air usually made everything tastier anyway. And Luis was very surprised, when Jessica took out a thermos with green tea - the most unexpected and uncommon option for a picnic on the beach. However, it turned out that she forgot to take mugs, and they only had the lid of the said thermos at their disposal.

- One for two is a great option, - Serra stated with a playful grin, deliberately taking a sip so that his lips touched this "mug" in the same place as his companion's.

- I'm glad that we share this opinion, - the girl returned both the gesture and the smile. - An orange for a dainty?

- Sure! - the Spaniard grabbed their improvised mug with his left hand so that Jessica could peel the citrus, but then his shoulder was pierced by a sharp pain and his fingers went numb and weak, forcing the man to hiss through clenched teeth. - Mierda...

The girl with a soft cry threw another small towel over the spilled tea and scurried behind Luis's back. He was clutching his hurting limb to his chest and it was such a vivid and unexpected reminder of the past injury.

- Guess, I've overestimated my condition... - the Spaniard's voice sounded strained.

- The doctor warned me that you might still have twinges like this from time to time, - Jessy's hands confidently glided over his aching muscles, starting from the upper back, stroking, pressing harder, kneading carefully. - He was talking about build-up of scar tissue as a possible cause. Now, it should get better... And the pain really subsided, yielding slowly to firm but gentle touches. When Serra's back finally relaxed under her fingers, brunette sighed with relief and pressed a small kiss upon that creepy scar. She remembered how they had to cauterize the wound with the same plaga removal laser, wrecking all the settings and restoring them again to get rid of those parasites. All because there was nothing left to sew up the wound with.

Shaking off those memories, girl wrapped her arms around Luis, pulling him a bit closer. He, in response, covered the palms that settled on his chest with his own and slightly leaned back, sinking into that warm embrace. - Gracias, querida mía, - his fingertips slid over her forearms in a tender caress. - I hope I didn't scare you too much... - I was more scared when you passed out on the operating table in your own lab, under my hands, - the girl admitted with a nervous laugh, carefully moving to her former place next to Luis and snuggling against his side. - As of today... Thank goodness, that the tea was not boiling hot. We'll do just fine without any burns.

After calming down a little, she finally peeled an orange, handed it to the Spaniard and reached for the second one, this time for herself. She noticed the fact that Serra was willing to share only when a slice of orange was already touching her lips. Jessica did not turn down the treat, followed by the man's fingers weightlessly brushing over her lips, his warm palm resting comfortably on her cheek. She smiled and leaned slightly into Serra's touch, turning her face to him for a kiss with an orange-salty taste.

The kiss was short though and when their lips parted, the couple just finished their snacks and went to lie down on the beach mat, snuggling side by side. Pebbles rustled softly, carried by the waves along the bottom, gulls cried in the sky, sunlight caressed the skin... Luis and Jessy were having fun cloud-gazing, sunglasses in place. Strings of fantastic images floated through the sky above them, driven by the wind: a large turtle, a dancing couple, a kitten playing with a ball of yarn, "Enterprise NCC-1701", that space station "Babylon 5", a sailboat, a dragon, an archer...

Soon the wind changed and brought in black clouds. Noticing this, Jessica reluctantly offered to call it a day and, as soon as their swimsuits were completely dry, slowly move towards their temporary home. Even if it wasn't supposed to rain, weather forecasts did not always pass the reality check.

To pass the wait a little, the girl sat up and reached for a small pointed pebble. She drew several lines on a larger flat stone with it. To Luis's surprise, these lines stood out on the black surface in a gray-brownish color, though the pebble was black too. The first clumsy lines were gradually turning into a simple silhouette of a lighthouse above the sea.

- Hey, you're good, - the Spaniard smiled upon seeing the final picture.

- Nah, I can't draw, - the girl dismissed his comment with ease, throwing her pebble "pencil" into the wave that ran ashore. - That's just my itchy fingers, nothing more.

- I dare to disagree on this statement, - Serra squinted slyly, taking the flat stone with a drawing from the brunette's hand before she sent it into the water too. - A little more practice, and it will no longer be "good", but "excelente".

In response, Jessica vaguely shrugged and, picking up another handful of dark pebbles, consistently sent them into the water, immersing in her thoughts. However, she was not allowed to stay like that for a long time and was soon distracted. Drying off after sea bathe, her hair fluffed up a little, curling and framing Jessy's face with a light-brown halo, trying to get into her eyes and mouth. Second distraction was Luis, who plucked a long blade of grass, and took part in the fun mini-game "tickle-a-friend". The Spaniard was quickly caught doing this, but at a reproachful stare, he just smiled broadly and stretched out his hand to smooth his companion's disheveled hair, which only resulted in another hug.

With all this childishness in action, time to go back home came swiftly. Their swimsuits finally dried out, the wind grew stronger, the sea became stormy... Luis and Jessy had to hurry up with packing, yet the first drops of rain caught them almost at the forest edge. Luckily, it gave them a chance to hide from such weather under the green dome of branches, at least for a while.

They still had to run from the forest to the bus stop to avoid getting soaked to the skin. However, it didn't help much. But when Luis and Jessy got back to the neighborhood where they lived at the moment, it looked like there was no rain there at all. After exchanging puzzled glances and quickly assessing their appearance a la "we went swimming in our clothes", they both burst out laughing. That attracted the attention of a passerby who turned out to be one of Jessy's distant relatives. And that man didn't hesitate to express his disapproval for such behavior of the girl in mourning for someone as significant as her own brother. Jessica visibly stiffened from being scolded, her guilt rearing its ugly head again. Serra noticed this change in his girlfriend's mood, and realized that he neither can nor should tolerate it. He stepped forward, as if trying to shield his girl from unpleasant conversation with his body. It was hard to contain his anger, but Luis mustered the calmest tone he was capable of at the moment. He was not aiming for a fight after all.

- I don't know about you lot, but I personally prefer that miss Jonzz here stayed among living, - he added more menacing undertone to his voice, pinning the other man with a slightly disgusted glare. - And not cried herself into heart attack or cardiac arrest just to maintain someone's else believes of how it's appropriate to grieve.

This rebuke somehow silenced an uninvited do-gooder and forced him to beat a hasty retreat. As soon as this person disappeared from sight, Serra turned to face brunette and gently pushed her chin up with one hand just to meet her unsure hazel eyes with his steel gray ones.

- It's not your fault, Jess, - Spaniard's tone was all about firm, but gentle care mixed with a tint of worry. - You are absolutely allowed to take care of yourself under any circumstances. Remember that, por favor.

- I know, - Jessy tried to smile, almost successfully, and to shook off the dreadful feeling of guilt's filthy paws reaching to claim her soul. - I... I'm okay. Let's go, Luis?

- Sure thing, cariño, - with a wide smile Serra swung his hand over girl's shoulders and pulled her into the right direction. - Our new cats must be waiting us already!

The cats were really waiting, and their patience was finally rewarded. Chirrups, squeaky little trills and cute meows filled the space of the murky apartment, making both Luis and Jessy smile and giggle at such enthusiasm. In fact, little calico cat and his gray brother acted like they knew that right now their humans needed all the positive attention they could provide. Gray one even tried to climb up Serra's leg, but was quickly and gently picked up and placed over Spaniard's shoulder. Meanwhile calico cat sniffed and licked at Jessica's ankles, as soon as she took off her shoes, of course.

- Hey, fur baby, it tickles, - brunette laughed and knelt down to pet this welcoming committee. - I know, I know: you and your little brother missed us.

Smiling to another almost shy meow, Jessica stood up and, after asking Luis if he didn't mind, headed to the shower, to wash off sea salt and sand still stuck on her skin. Serra wished he could join, but this bathroom was too small for two, so he stayed behind to occupy cats' attention instead.

He scooped up the second cat and sank into the nearest (and only) armchair. Those cats, although young, were very skilled at common cats' things, and they've purred their new man into light sleep in no time. When Jessy was done, she came right to a snooze-town. The sight was heartwarming and peaceful, but to shower was a must, so the girl had to wake Luis up.

Brunette watched her loved one go, yawning and carefully pulling off his shirt on the way. Cats yawned in sync and jumped down from the armchair. The movement caught Jessy's eye and she noticed a book with colorful cover lying on the floor. She changed from her bathrobe into T-shirt and funny shorts with TMNT print, then reached to pick that book up and smiled fondly at it's name: “50 best baking recipes from around the world”. It was her gift for her brother's last birthday. This memory made Jessy's heart sank again, and she quickly flipped through a few pages to detach herself from this sorrow for just a bit longer. The girl checked out some recipes and stopped at one, baked churros. It seemed pretty easy to cook, and all ingredients were present in the fridge.

- Oh, temptations... - Jessica sighed softly after considering some other options from this book.

- Are you talking about me, mi amor?

Her train of thought was interrupted by Luis, refreshed and relaxed... and wearing only a towel around his hips. His hair still slightly wet from the shower and his smile as charming as usual - a real eye candy.

- And about you, too, - Jessy couldn't help, but smile in response.- But, actually, I've been thinking about trying this recipe... What do you think?

- Sounds great, - Serra pushed the damp hair out of his face and headed to change into something more suitable, than a towel. - Wait for me.

He was rather fond of this idea for even more quality time together, and it worked out pretty well.

As the late day gradually turned into early evening, sorrow, that was almost perceptible the day before, finally shrunk and hid in the darkest corner of the apartment. Combined efforts of Luis and two impish kitties left no chances for it to overtake again.

The rest of the evening went pleasantly and peacefully, with tea and home-baked churros, and heartwarming talks on the sofa. Cats tried their best too, singing cats' songs, kneading and even clawing lightly at their humans' limbs. And after a while tiredness, mixed with loud purring lulled Jessy to sleep.

Tight embrace of her beloved Spaniard, his steady heartbeat, and her feeling secured helped the matter too.

Luis smiled gently at the girl lying in his arms, and closed his eyes too, drifting off to sleep. Both cats immediately seized the opportunity to pin their humans to the sofa for more feline comfort, and the apartment went silent.

This spontaneous beach day turned out to be the much needed breather for Jessy. A little something to make future look brighter and less hopeless for her, even with all those unwanted changes. It was easier to believe now, that she won't be struggling with everything on her own. And it became plainly obvious that she was not alone anymore. They were not alone.

[heartofspells]

13, 14, 20, and 22

(Also, fun fact about 14: I loaned a kid a book in Sixth Grade, I’m a junior in college now, and I still remember their name, which book it was, and that I never got it back so I had to buy a new copy. I remember almost nothing else about this kid or middle school, but I will never forget this)

I would also never forget that. The pure evil nerve of withholding such a precious item from you. You have my deepest sympathies.

13. What is a subject matter that is incredibly difficult for you write about? What is easy?

Oh, okay. We're starting with the hard, juicy ones. I'm here for it.

Truly bad/neglectful/abusive parenting is probably the thing I struggle with the most. If you've ever paid attention to any of my fics where it's brought up, you might notice that while it's there, addressed and made known, I also skirt around it for the most part (especially with Sirius and the Blacks). I think the closest I've ever come if turning Lyall into a disinterested and judgmental father for one specific fic/series where he and Remus had one (1) harsh interaction where words were thrown out. Everything else is always mostly hinted at.

That being said, it's almost too easy to write the bits that come after, once the character is free but still struggling with it, which is a strange thing, I'm aware. Beyond that, almost any other sort of deep angst or dark topic comes pretty easily to me.

14. Do you lend your books to people? Are people scared to borrow books from you? Do you know exactly where all your “lost” books are and which specific friend from school you haven’t seen in twelve years still possesses them? Will you ever get them back?

I've always been very protective of my books, even when I was young. I always get them back and I only lend to people I know aren't going to disappear. I'm like a library. You get two weeks and after that I'm snapping my fingers, demanding it be returned or you'll suffer the consequences (paying the late fees with your SOUL). My sister is the worst. She borrows books a lot and it's always a struggle getting them back, but I know where she lives, so she can't hide from me.

20. If a witch offered you the choice between eternal happiness with your one true love and the ability to finally finish, perfect, and publish your dearest, darlingest, most precious WIP in exactly the way you've always imagined it — which would you choose? You can’t have both sorry, life’s a bitch

Screw love, I want my story finished to perfection with gorgeous little details added into the pages and artwork projected straight from my mind so that people can see exactly what I see, no typos in existence, every sentence structured divinely, with all the emotions that cripple a person and leave them nothing but puddles of themselves. Gimme.

22. How organized are you with your writing? Describe to me your organization method, if it exists. What tools do you use? Notebooks? Binders? Apps? The Cloud?

Ahaha! The way I laughed at this. Look, there are certain aspects of my life where I am insanely organized and put together. Writing isn't one of those areas. I have an external hard drive, two flash drives, and three separate, chaotic document folders on my laptop all containing different bits of writing. Some of my stuff is stored on Google Docs (hate that), there are things in Dropbox (do people still use that anymore??), notes also stored in all these places along with on my phone in an app, bits of writing lost forever in the terror that is tumblr, randomly jotted things on scrap pieces of paper, old notebooks and a Filofax from years ago floating around in boxes and inside drawers that haven't seen the light of day in years...Those WIP games that go around sometimes are a nightmare because I'm a mess. I'll never find it all.

Send me weird questions if you'd like!

[bobbytriesatlife]

Kiryu Sento and his parallel to gay self discovery

By Bobby

Word count 1,419

I ended up writing this because of the response to this post and also because I’m over $100 for my Gofundme and I promised I would write this if I did. So here you go.

Kiryu Sento(23) is a the main character of Kamen Rider Build, the 2017 through 2018 season of the long running tokusatsu franchise. When we were are first introduced to our hero, we are told that he is a freelance scientist with amnesia who lives with his father figure and said father figure’s daughter. The father figure being Souichi Isurugi and the daughter being Misora Isurugi. The next relationship  established in the show is with Ryuga Banjou, the secondary protagonist and Sento’s Best Match. These three characters will be the primary relationships that I will use to explain why Sento’s journey throughout the series reflects that of a gay youth trying to come into their own. Along with a few other relationships I will discuss towards the end.  The first relationship I will explore will be with Banjou, who I believe is the most important character to Sento’s journey.

When Sento and Banjou first meet, they start out being antagonistic to one another until they realize that the similarities of their origins. The both of them having been kidnapped and experimented on by a group called Faust. In Sento’s case, this is partly how he ended up with amnesia and in Banjou’s case, he escaped before his memory could be erased. Banjou is on the run for a murder that he claims he didn’t commit and while Sento is skeptical at first, Banjou’s ernest insistence of his innocence leads Sento to take his side and help Banjou escape. These events take place within the first episode, which caps off with a joke where Sento points out that Banjou’s fly is down but waits to the last minute to say anything about it.

As the series continues, we see Sento and Banjou move on from being begrudging allies, to friends, to a “Best Match.” Sento seems to become more and more accustomed to Banjou’s presence, even making important choices solely on how they would affect Banjou. He keeps up a sarcastic and teasing facade towards Banjou, all the while exhibiting little shows of affection such as creating tools and gadgets specifically for him. Banjou eventually becomes a Rider himself and fights alongside Sento. Following this, the two acquire several powered up forms. The most notable being Cross-z Charge, Build Hazard, Cross-z Magma, Build Cross-z and Build Genius. The thing that connects each instance of them gaining a power up is that they do so in order to protect the other/show how close they have become.

Due to extreme circumstances, by the end of the series the two end up being dependent on one another in a setting that’s both familiar and unfamiliar. Despite everything however, the pair look forward to the future as they know they have one another.

The second relationship we will be exploring will be between Sento and Misora. Misora acts as a little sister figure to Sento. The two often play tricks on one another such as drawing on the other’s face when they are asleep. Though Sento is often enthusiastic about his various discoveries and inventions, Misora tends to seem as if it doesn’t interest her at all as long as he kicks in for spending money around the house. Though the two often playfully antagonize one another, they also often look to each other as emotional confidants. The pair often sharing secrets with one another that they wouldn’t readily share with anyone else.

There comes a point in the series where a personal revelation causes Sento to question his entire identity. He ponders as to whether or not he is a real person and if anything he’s done up till now actually means anything. Misora does her best to comfort him and tries to reassure him that the only him she’s known is Sento. So that is who he is to her.

The next relationship we will explore is that of Sento and Souichi. Souichi as a father figure to Sento for the first half of the series. He is the one who finds Sento after he has amnesia and takes him in to raise him alongside Misora. He is the person to push Sento to become Build and pursue being a hero in order to learn more about himself.

While this all sounds very positive, pretty early on in the series we learn something about Souichi that shows his intentions are not benevolent and that he does not have Sento’s (or even Misora’s) best interest at heart. This is one of a few events that truly shake Sento as he didn’t want to believe this person would hurt him and that they really accepted Sento as is. Despite discovering this, Sento continues to seek Souichi’s guidance throughout a large portion of the series. There is even a point where an event traumatizes Sento and the only person he can think of to seek advice from is Souichi. Souichi ridicules and belittles Sento for letting the event affect him, but also makes sure to toss a backhanded compliment in every now and then. It isn’t until the various other people that Sento has befriended at this point reassure him of his self worth that he stops going to Souichi for advice.

Two other character tangentially related to Sento’s journey that I want to talk about as well are Gentoku Himura and Takumi Katsuragi. In order to discuss Sento’s relationship with these two characters and how these relationships reflect Sento being read as gay, I have to dive into some spoilers. So be forewarned.

Takumi is the scientist who created the Build driver, the device that allows Sento to become Kamen Rider Build. Most of his research is partly responsible for much of the conflict throughout the series in one way or another. He also happens to be the person Sento was before he had amnesia. Like many other traumatic events in the series, this causes Sento to question his identity. Even to the point where Takumi’s personality begins to reemerge. The two of them even have full on conversations in their head about how to best deal with the conflict at hand. Katsuragi constantly questions Sento’s insistence of believing in Banjou and seems to be more emotionally cold than Sento in how he operates. Takumi’s personality even fully takes over for a few episodes before looking inside himself and realizing that Sento deserves to be his own person. (He also is the one to makes the Genius power up, which he leaves to Sento as a show of faith in him.)  This can be read as someone who’s come out of the closet having a period of self doubt. One where they question whether or not it would be easier to just pretend to be straight rather than deal with the horror of being known. Fortunately for Sento it seems that his previous personality is just as easy to read as a gay man.

When Takumi appears in the show, whether it be in flash back or when his personality returns, there is one person he seems to really be close to. That person is Gentoku Himura aka Kamen Rider Rogue. The two were the founders of Faust, the organization partly responsible for the conflict throughout the show. Though their intentions could be read as noble, their methods are questionable. We see that it’s Gentoku who convinces Katsuragi that creating Faust is a good idea and that Gentoku has high hopes for Katsuragi’s research. Even before the revelation about Sento and Takumi is revealed, Gentoku often speaks fondly of the time he and Katsuragi spent together. Around the time that Takumi reemerges from the depths of Sento’s mind, Gentoku has recently reformed and joined up with the Build crew. He and Takumi hash it out and Gentoku laments over how he used Takumi’s research and tells him that he missed him. Though Takumi doesn’t really forgive Gentoku, you can see that the two shared a very close bond.

I could continue to go on and cite various moments of Sento or Takumi’s life that show similarity to what your average 20 something gay would go through, but I will conclude with this. Sento’s journey starts him off practically alone with a one track focus on finding out about his past. The show ends with Sento having let go of that part of himself and settling down with a found family of his own making, living with his “Best Match”. If that doesn’t sound like a journey of queer self discovery then I don’t know what is.

[greensleeves888]

Widow's Pique - Chapter 31

Overview: Penny is a 41 year old mother of one, existing day to day in the normal world until a chance encounter changes everything, for everyone.

Author’s Notes: Hey Tumblrs! So this is my first ever story (not counting the shit I created at school). So be easy on me! I apologise for any typos, and for my misunderstanding of basic punctuation. This story has a little bit of Yours Truly woven into it. It’s a slow burn, full of angst, inner monologues, and insecurities but promises a happy ending of sorts! Using just my imagination and countless hours “researching” Mr. Cavill, I hope I can portray a different side to this fascinating man. Please indulge me …

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Plus Size/Curvy OFC (Penny) Chapter: 31 of ?

Word Count: 10.5k!

Warnings: Angst. Pregnancy. Alcohol. Weight issues. Foreplay.

Disclaimers: This is all fiction baby!

Over 18’s only. No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it or parts of the source material, and claiming it as your own.

MASTERLIST

Big kisses in advance for your Re-blogs, Comments, and Likes - they mean SO much to me xxx There is a Spotify playlist that accompanies this story - to listen click here

Widow’s Pique

"White or Pink Pen?"

"White, always white" Penny shouted from her office over the sounds of Dusty Springfield.

She was dancing on the spot as she worked on an intricate collage piece at her idea bench. Moments later a large, warm pair of hands crept onto her hips as Henry joined her.

"I'm sorry to interrupt the artist at work honey, but I just couldn't resist those wiggling hips".

Penny spun around and laced her hands behind Henry's neck, continuing her swaying. Henry took the opportunity to steal a kiss from her smiling lips and a squeeze of her ample backside in the process.

She rested the side of her head against his chest as they continued to move to the music. Henry peppered her hair with more kisses as he squeezed her close.

"You ok mama?" he asked as the song finished.

"I'm good thanks." she spoke dreamily.

"What can I do for you, get for you?"

"Nothing Honey, I have everything I need." she rested her head back against his chest as she rubbed her hands over his strong, smooth back, tucking her hands up under his t-shirt to feel his soft, warm flesh.

"Was that Fernando on the phone?"

"It was indeed."

"All ok?"

"All is ok. Going swimmingly in fact"

Henry had kept his word and had made the wedding planning as stress-free as possible. In the space of two weeks the date had been set, invites sent, catering and entertainment sorted and even the flowers. By using the professionals (and throwing undisclosed amounts of money in their direction), most of the hassle was out of their hands, leaving Henry and Penny just to make the fun decisions. The venue was easy; Penny's back garden was perfect for an informal late summer wedding. The field behind would house a marquee for the meal and evening entertainment. All that was needed to finalise was Henry's suit and Penny's dress.

"So are you excited to sort out your dress tomorrow, Pen?" he asked, knowing she was apprehensive.

"I am, I just hope they can make me something comfortable and pretty. God knows how much bigger I'll be in another two weeks time!"

Henry rumbled a small laugh, placing his hand on the side of Penny's stomach, rubbing it gently.

"You're going to look stunning Pen, I have no doubt."

He was careful with his choice of words, knowing how uncomfortable she had become lately. He was also worried the baby might arrive before they had the chance to get married. Penny certainly looked ready to go. She hardly complained though, in fear of him becoming even more over protective of her.

Henry insisted on driving Penny to the dressmakers, parking up in a secluded alleyway to access the discreet entrance for high-profile clients. Marianne and Helen were already inside, sipping champagne despite it only being 11am. He wore a tracksuit and baseball cap as his 'disguise' as he graciously helped Penny out of the beast. He made sure Penny was happy and comfortable inside the boutique before being shooed away by his mother.

"I'll meet you all back at yours later ok?"

"Yes dear, now clear off darling, you're not supposed to be here." Marianne quipped as she waved her hand dismissing Henry from the lavish room. Henry grumbled and kissed Penny gently on the lips.

"Any issues, call me ok honey?"

Penny nodded and crossed her heart as she helped move him towards the door.

A tall elegant lady and two young assistants wafted into the room to greet Penny.

"Ms Green? I'm Lily. It's a pleasure to meet you, thank you for choosing us to make this special piece for you."

Penny blushed, not sure she was up for all the fussing. "Thank you, Lily. And thank you for seeing me so quickly, as you can see, time is of the essence." she laughed as she patted her bump.

Although Penny had been trepidatious, the experience was unfolding to be much more relaxed and enjoyable than she'd expected. Despite spending most of the time in just her wedding underwear she enjoyed being swathed in different fabrics, Lily draping and folding the most stunning lace and silk around Penny to find the look that worked best. There were even a couple of pre-made maternity wedding dresses that Penny could try on. Unsurprisingly these were too small still for Penny, making her feel huge again. Lily was so serene and patient, listening intently to everything Penny liked and disliked. The idea of the dress slowly came together from shape ideas and inspiration from the other dresses she was shown. All of Penny's concerns were met, and Marianne and Helen even managed to keep their stronger opinions to themselves.

Once Penny was back in her own dress she hugged Lily and popped to the loo whilst Helen brought her car around to the side entrance.

Helen's drove a Tesla Model 3, which seemed like it was on the ground when Penny tried to sit elegantly in the passenger seat. She regretted wearing such a figure hugging outfit, adding to her inflexibility.

"I hope you're hungry ladies as I've booked a table for lunch at Bertrand's."

"Oh, I thought we were going back to yours Marianne? Won't Henry be waiting?"

"He'll be fine with Colin, It'll do you both good to have some time apart."

Penny wasn't sure what she meant by that but her stomach growled happily in the anticipation of food.

The beautiful Art Nouveau facade of the swanky restaurant opened up into a vast maze of eclectic but lavishly furnished booths, perfect for discreet dining. On their way to their table they hardly saw any of the other diners, but the hubbub of conversation proved that the place was full. Penny was glad of this, really not wanting to get recognised in her current state.

After a delicious array of crudités Helen and Marianne revealed their motivation behind the lunch.

"Penny, we wanted to talk to you about the wedding." Hells began, glancing nervously at Marianne.

"We, well a few of us are a little worried that this might be a bit too much for you at the moment. If you wanted to change your mind no-one at all would think bad of you."

Penny finished crunching a radish as she took in what was being said. Marianne took this as a bad sign.

"Penny, dearest. You know I adore you both, and I know Henry better than he knows himself. Once he puts his mind to something he's a force to be reckoned with. We just want to make sure that you're not feeling too pressured. We just worry, that's all."

Silence fell on the table as Penny slowly sipped her water.

"Honestly, you have nothing to worry about. I'm ridiculously calm about the wedding. It's as much my idea as it's Henry's, he's not pressurising me into anything. I swear. If anything it's been taking my mind off birthing this huge-ass baby."

Helen snorted, and instantly covered her mouth in embarrassment.

At that moment Marianne's phone rang, it was Henry.

"We're just grabbing a bite to eat darling. Penny was famished." Marianne winked at Penny as she continued to 'uh-huh' and 'ok' to Henry's call.

"She's fine Henry, we are taking good care of her, it's all very private here too so please don't stress. See if you can help your Dad move the treadmill upstairs while you're waiting." All three ladies chuckled at the thought of Henry wrestling the machine up the staircases.

After the call, lunch progressed as normal. Talking of their outfits and the guest list.

"Henry's requested no phones at the wedding too, that'll be interesting. He's also hired security! I've never heard of security at a wedding, I think it's a bit OTT really."

"It's all quite standard for this kind of do Penny. Let's just hope the press don't get a whiff of it beforehand, you don't want helicopters buzzing over the house." Helen joked, but Penny suddenly sat up a bit straighter, looking concerned.

Marianne held her wrist "Are you ok my dear?"

"Could that really happen? I not a big fan of paparazzi or helicopters." Penny shuddered thinking back to the time Henry was whisked away from her.

"There's always a small chance of it being leaked, but Henry is more than on top of the privacy for everyone, especially you my darling." Marianne squeezed her wrist again before finishing her fish.

Penny sat back, feeling a small braxton hick threatening. Her appetite for her fancy sandwich suddenly lost.

Four days before the big day the house and grounds were already buzzing with people. The marquee was set up. the walkways being laid, the car parking mats covered the field next door, and swathes of festoon lights were being hung in every space. A small barn-style building was being constructed at the end of the garden. This was the covered area for the wedding, where Penny and Henry would stand. It was beautiful, even before it was decorated. Penny wondered if they could keep it.

Today Lily was visiting with the final fitting of the dress, Penny couldn't wait to see it. Henry's tailor was already downstairs, making final adjustments to Henry and Ben's suits.

"Jesus George, the waist is cutting into me, is that right?" Henry complained, feeling a bit hot and bothered.

"Well, Henry that will be because you are a little bit fatter than the last time I measured you. I'm going to have to let this out, quite a lot too by the looks of it."

Henry breathed in and looked in the mirror. Ben sniggered at him.

"Hey, short stuff, the same will happen to you when you get to my age." Henry joked as he breathed out again and patted his pooch. He'd not paid that much attention to his own physique of late. Especially as he'd cleared his schedule and had cut down on the training. What he'd forgotten to cut down on was his calorie intake. He looked again in the mirror as George fussed around his waistband, getting impatient with Henry's movement.

"It's not too bad is it George?" Henry rubbed his stomach, purposefully pushing it out even more for comedic effect.

"Hmm, nothing that a girdle wouldn't fix, now keep still."

Henry looked at Ben and pulled a face like a naughty school boy.

"No competition for Mummy's though Ben, right?" he joked "Don't tell her I said that please!" he added, suddenly becoming serious.

Ben motioned locking his mouth and putting the key in his t-shirt pocket.

The gate buzzer seemed to be going off every 10 minutes with one delivery or another. This time Colin was sent to answer the door as Lily and her two assistants arrived carrying a huge garment bag between them. He smiled, nodded and again wordlessly ushered them towards the stairs.

Penny was in her bedroom with Kate helping her tie her hair back. She was already suffering in the heat, a large fan blasted warm air at her in an attempt to cool her down. She fiddled with the back of her white bra as Kate swotted her hand away and sorted it for her. She'd resorted to bearing a belly band to support her bump. Henry helped her with it every morning now, it gave her some relief on her aching back and hips. He'd also cradle her bump for her as he stood behind her. It was such a relief until he gave up complaining it was uncomfortable and pulling his back.

A light knock on Penny's bedroom door signalled the arrival of Lily and The Dress. At this point Penny just wanted something white that fitted. Lily greeted Penny like an old friend, Penny loved how elegant and serene she was. She hoped some of that would rub off on her right now.

"Are you ready for this Penny? Any adjustments we can make today, we have our kits with us, so don't worry at all ok?"

The garment bag was hooked onto the top of the door frame as the two young assistants Eloise and Suni slowly unzipped and lifted it out to present to Penny.

"Oh, my, god Lily! It's absolutely stunning, you're a freakin' wizard! The detail, the fabric, it's, it's, just beautiful - so beautiful." Penny covered her face as she shuddered a huge cry into her hands. Kate rubbed her back as she too hitched her breath with tears in her eyes.

"Right, enough of the hormones Mrs Bump. Let's wrangle you into this and see how it looks." Kate barked, knowing that they needed to get a move on.

Another knock at the door signalled mild panic thinking Henry was trying to come in until Marianne spoke from the other side.

"Is it here? Can I see it Penny?"

Carefully, the several pairs of hands helped Penny step into the silk slip under-dress. Lily skilfully began lacing the back as the cool, soft fabric began to mould around Penny's curves. The bias cut of the fabric clung to Penny's shape without restricting her movement.

Next was the sheer lace part. Suni and Eloise laid this out on the floor in front of Penny. She carefully stepped into the centre as the delicate fabric was lifted up carefully. Marianne stood with her hands over her mouth. Tears in her eyes, unable to speak. Kate was also uncharacteristically quiet as she swallowed her emotions, not wanting to set Penny off again.

Slowly Penny threaded her arms into the long sleeves, thankful that the fabric had some give to it. Nothing felt tight, everything fitted so well. Lilly and Suni began to fasten the tiny buttons at the back as Eloise adjusted the fabric to the right position. Penny smoothed her hand over the beautiful open mesh cotton lace, tracing the large swirls and leaves.

"Now Penny, the good news is that we just have half a dozen buttons to reposition, tell me, how does it feel? How do you feel in it?

At this point Eloise angled Penny's floor mirror towards her. She stared at her reflection, unable to find the right words, amazed at what she was seeing. Her large bump looked perfectly at home within the dress, something Penny never expected. Her hips were smooth, her arms looked slender, and even her boobs were flattered but tamed within the stunning outfit.

Realising that everyone was waiting for her to speak, Penny cleared her throat.

"I - I bloody love it!!" as she jumped up and down on the spot squealing.

Everyone else followed suit as downstairs in the kitchen Henry, Colin and Ben stared up at the ceiling.

"Either the dress looks good, or there's a huge spider in the bedroom", Henry joked as he picked up Ben for a hug. "Let's go check on the progress outside, short stuff." and they went to track down Fernando, the wedding planner.

After lunch more pampering arrived for Penny, a fresh hair colour and spray tan whilst Marianne and Colin readied the spare rooms for more guests.

Even Callum was helping by re-gravelling the track and tidying up the entrance through the farm.

Penny had needed another nap so Kate left her to rest whilst she surveyed the back garden, marvelling at how pretty it already looked. She found Henry in the marquee looking frazzled.

"Hey, hot stuff - how's it all going?"

Henry blew a sweaty curl from his forehead as his face cracked into a tired smile.

"It's ok, there are a few delays with some bits and bobs, but on the whole, ok. There's just so much last minute stuff. Is Penny ok?"

"Yeah, she's having a cat nap. I thought you had a guy for all this running around?"

"I do, I just want it to be perfect."

"Well it won't be perfect if your blood pressure is through the roof and you feel like shit will it? Now come inside and have a drink and a sit down - no buts."

"Yes Mrs Roberts" he saluted as he followed Kate back through the garden, his beady eye checking off other things he still needed to ask Fernando about. Kal bounded up to him, knowing he need a bear hug.

"Leave the dog Son and come and get a cold one, you've done enough for today." Colin instructed.

Henry laughed at everyone's concern, he felt truly grateful of how helpful everyone had been. He grunted in discomfort as he sat down at the dining table, grabbing for some buttered bread.

"Why don't you get an early night after you've eaten poppet?" Marianne suggested.

"You all trying to get rid of me or something?" he muttered with his mouth full.

"Not at all, you just need to save some energy for the big day son, and of course tomorrow evening."

Henry had refused a stag do, convincing himself he would jinx everything and send Penny into early labour if he were to go somewhere, so instead his brothers were coming to the farm to give him some kind of a traditional send off.

Kate had organised a similar evening for Penny despite her reluctance too. Henry had pleaded with Kate not to do anything too rowdy.

"It's not a stag do Pops, just a few of us having a couple drinks and playing some poker ok?"

"Of course, of course." Colin winked at Ben, who had been clinging to his new grandad like a limpet since he arrived.

Henry decided an early night was very appealing if it meant escaping the fussing, and the chance to spend some alone time with his Penny.

"Hey sleepyhead." Henry whispered as he kissed Penny's forehead.

"Oh, shit. It's dark already, you should have woken me up." Penny groaned, as she shuffled and shifted to sit up. Henry went to help her but she clamped her arms down in defiance "I'm fine Henry, I can sit up myself!"

Henry stood back, hands in the air. Too tired to laugh or get annoyed at her snapping. Instead he began undressing on the way to the bathroom to clean his teeth.

Moments later Penny appeared to use the toilet.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't wait." she apologised for her unladylike gesture.

"You can poop in front of me my dear, I really don't mind."

"I'm not pooping, just having a wee. Your daughter is using my bladder as a yoga mat."

Henry chuckled, she was always 'his' daughter when she was causing trouble. He had a feeling this would still be the case once she arrived. He was more than ok with that, already knowing she would have him around her little finger from day one.

Back in bed, Penny remained sitting up as Henry plonked himself down face first and wrestled with his pillow for a comfortable position.

"You're exhausted Hen." Henry murmured into his pillow. Penny reached over and began rubbing his shoulder muscles, Henry groaned again. After a couple of minutes he shifted to lay on his side, taking Penny's hand and kissing it.

"You shouldn't be fussing over me, I should be fussing over you, my love"

Penny smiled softly "You've not stopped for days, you're going to be exhausted by Saturday."

"I'll be fine. I'm strong, like ox" he joked as he flexed his bicep half heartedly.

"I'm sorry for snapping earlier, I know I've been a prize bitch lately."

Henry smirked and blinked slowly. "You've not been a bitch, you wouldn't know how. So you've been a bit testy. So would I carrying around our not so little beany baby 24/7. You're doing so well honey, I'm so very proud of you."

Penny's skin shivered with his praise. Henry schooched up to sit closer, his large warm hand atop Penny's round stomach. Henry dipped his head towards her belly and kissed it. Penny rested her hand over his.

"Mummy and I can't wait to meet you our darling girl. Just keep on baking nicely, ok?" he kissed her again as Penny wrapped her arms around her beautiful, sweet man. Overwhelmed with happiness and emotion. She began to cry, a regular occurrence lately, as Henry shushed her, peppering her hair with kisses as they both drifted off to sleep together.

The next day seemed just as hectic as the last few. Not helped by the arrival of more Cavill's.

Kate's sole purpose seemed to be in following Penny everywhere she went, making her sit down and drink and eat enough. Whilst Kate had to visit the loo Penny escaped into the back garden to check on things. She found Henry and Callum helping roll barrels of beer towards the marquee. It was only 10am but the sun was already scorching hot. Both men were red faced and very sweaty.

"You know there are dozens of guys here that are hired to help with this kind of stuff!"

Henry straightened up, his back obviously hurting him.

"Why are you out here Penelope?" he scowled at her, ignoring her comment.

"Because I'm sick of being under house arrest, I want to help."

"Somehow I don't think you're going to be much help at the moment Penny." Callum joked.

Henry shot a worried glance at Callum.

"I'm pregnant, not useless Callum." Callum looked at the ground, knowing he should have kept his mouth shut.

"Pen, most of the stuff is lifting and shifting stuff. You really think that's a good idea?"

She pursed her lips, knowing she had a weak argument.

Surprisingly Henry added "Find Fernando, he's in the marquee, he might have a job for you."

Penny perked up and turned on her heel as she tried her best not to waddle away towards the marquee.

Callum gave a surprised look in Henry's direction.

"Don't worry, Fernando will send her away. He's terrified she's going to have the baby any second now." Henry laughed.

"Aren't we all?" Callum added as they shared a concerned look at each other.

The plan that evening for the 'non' Hen and Stag do's was for Helen's girls to host a fun games and pizza night for the children upstairs, whilst the men tested out a section of the marquee and the bar outside. This left the ladies with the downstairs of the house. Whilst Penny was upstairs trying to find something to wear the other ladies were setting up balloons and decorations as a surprise. Henry poked his head in through the back door only to be shooed away by everyone.

Out in the marquee, Colin was mixing up cocktails as Charlie and Simon cooked up a meat-fest on the barbeque. Tom was in the DJ Booth, reliving his youth whilst Callum helped Piers and Nik set up the poker table. Henry purposely didn't want any celebrity friends there tonight, despite feeling guilty for not inviting them. Some he'd invited to the wedding though but he didn't want it to feel like a showbiz event, it was about him and Penny.

Callum was surprised to get an invite tonight. He wasn't sure if it was the best idea considering his feelings towards Penny. Over the past few months, he'd tried to keep his distance, but Penny and Henry both tried to keep him in their lives.

Henry arrived back from the house "So let's get this fucking party started then boys!" Much to the amusement of the other Cavill brothers. Despite strict orders from Marianne, they were going to make their brother's 'stag do', an evening to remember.

Kate found Penny rifling through her wardrobe, piles of clothes already discarded on the bed. Penny was red faced and swearing under her breath as she fanned her face with her spare hand.

"Oi, Green, what the hell are you up to?"

"What does it look like? Trying to find something to fucking wear! Nothing fucking fits!"

"Woah, alright Gordon Ramsay, chill. Let me chose. Where's the first thing you tried on?"

"On the bed." Penny gestured, with a petulant look on her face.

Kate could help but smirk at her attitude, but was careful not to rile her up too much. She flipped the pile of clothes over and found a simple round neck bodycon dress made from a beautiful dusky pink stretchy fabric.

"What was wrong with this one Pen?" Kate asked.

"Too clingy, looked like Kim K on a very bad day." Penny tried to joke, knowing she was being difficult.

"But does it fit?"

"Yes.."

"And is it comfy?"

"Hmm, I guess so…"

"Great, that's what you're wearing. Put it on and stop your whinging woman."

Penny sighed and stomped over to grab the dress from Kate.

"Henry bought me this, I look like a fucking sausage in it Katie."

"I don't care, no-one cares. They just want to see you and celebrate with you ok. Stop being so difficult woman." Kate knew she was pushing her luck being so bolshy with her, but she figured it was the only way to get the night started.

Penny readjusted her boobs once she pulled the dress down. Kate grabbed some hairspray and fluffed up Penny's hair. A quick flick of mascara and lipstick and Penny was finally ready.

"Fucking Kim K would wanna look like you Pen, you look hot honey!"

Penny daren't even look in the mirror, knowing Kate was just trying to make her feel better.

After copious amounts of barbequed protein, the men readied their bravado for the poker game. The Cavill brothers, in particular Charlie, seemed supremely confident that he would fleece everyone before the night was over. Colin quietly smirked, knowing from experience that the opposite would be more likely.

"Deal me in, I'm just going to check on Pen." Henry slurred, already several beers in.

"Woah, woah, woah!" came the combined protest "Leave the woman alone, if there was a problem, you would hear about it Hank - so sit the fuck down." Piers barked.

Henry sat down with a pout.

Kate led an anxious Penny past Ben's room after goodnight kisses, and loudly announced her arrival to the gaggle of girls downstairs.

"Surprise!!!! Happy Hen, Engagement, Baby Shower Penny!!!" the well practiced chorus sang out.

Penny clutched her chest and held back more tears as she saw the beautiful balloons and banners that the girls had put up whilst she was getting ready.

"We thought we'd roll them all into one Pen, as you don't like to waste any time!" Kate whispered as she patted Penny's backside.

Julia walked up to Penny, giving her a huge double cheek kiss and then tying a pretty flowery belt around her waist as Charlotte placed an equally tasteful floral crown atop Penny's head.

Several photos were taken with the custom balloon backdrop as Marianne poured the Prosecco.

Penny reluctantly agreed to a couple sips before complaining it was giving her heartburn.

Her dress was a big hit, with everyone admiring Penny's impressive bump.

"When I was pregnant with Hughie I swelled up like a balloon, do you remember Pen? It was fucking awful, you're just all belly Pen Pen, like you were with Ben. So not fair how you can look so good when you're so pregnant!"

"Did Henry pay you all to make me feel less huge ladies?" Penny asked, half seriously as she was feeling super self-conscious in her figure hugging outfit.

"I see Hank is trying to compete with you Pen in the belly department." Heather joked, nudging Penny with her pointy elbow.

"Heather, now that's enough. You know better than to comment on Henry's weight, he can get very sensitive about it." Marianne chastised.

"He's always the first to take the piss out of my Charlie if he's starting to look a little chubby, it's nice to see the tables turned." Heather continued, as Vicky and Charlotte nodded in agreement.

"Well I love his new tummy, it suits him too." Penny added, feeling bad that Henry's weight was being discussed.

"That man can make anything look good, even a gut!" Kate chuckled.

"Well that's enough fat-shaming our lovely Henry, let's all grab some food and then we can get the games underway." Helen instructed.

"Games?" Penny asked reluctantly.

"Read 'em and weep." Piers gloated as he laid down his winning hand amidst groans and obscenities from the rest of the table.

"Fuck this, I need a piss." Tom threw his cards down and headed off into the dark field outside, tripping over two guy ropes on the way.

"So bloody lucky Piers, next year we're going to Vegas son." Colin added

"You're on Pops, as long as we can take Hank to pay for everything."

Henry sat up from resting his head on the table, struggling to keep his eyes open after the constant flow of whiskey.

"Shall I run in and get coffees?" David suggested, being the most sober of the group.

"I'll come with you." Henry lurched out of his seat.

Callum stood to support him, "Maybe let Dave go for now Henry, you might want to sober up a bit before you go back inside."

"Hmm, kay." he agreed, feeling lightheaded from standing up so quickly.

"Let's finish up this meat and get the after party started boys." Charlie added with a chicken drumstick already in hand.

"Report back on the situation inside will you Dave?" Nik asked as David wove his way back to the garden.

The Hen party was well underway as David tried to sneak in the back, it took 5 seconds for Helen to spot him.

"David, what are you doing here?"

"Coffee." was his deliberately short response.

Helen was too tipsy to question him, "How civilised!" she chuckled before heading back to the makeshift dance floor.

Penny was trying her best to keep up with everyone despite being the only fully sober adult in the building. 'My humps' came on the sound system and one by one the ladies grabbed cushions, bowls and spare clothing to shove up their dresses to mirror Penny's impressive humps of her own.

Penny was screaming with laughter at the ridiculous sight before her. Glad that Kiri and Marianne were taking lots of photos to document it. Penny joined in as best as she could rubbing her bump against the others.

David looked up from the kitchen, shaking his head in amusement.

"There we're doing what?" Colin asked, confused by David's explanation.

"They'd all wedged cushions up their dresses to give them big bellies, like Penny's." he repeated as he set the heavy tray of coffee and cups on the bar.

"What the fuck? That's hilarious." Tom piped up.

"What was Pen doing?" Henry asked, now leaning against the bar, messily making himself a coffee.

"Dancing and laughing."

"Jesus Christ, if those women put her into labour there'll be hell to pay." Henry grumbled, trying to squint through the opening in the marquee towards the house.

"Chill bruv, she's in safe hands." Simon added, trying to stop Henry worrying.

"Maybe we should go back in the house with cushions up our tops and join them." Piers joked.

"Dad and Henry won't need the cushions though P" Charlie quickly quipped.

Henry broke the laughter with his angry rebuttal "Fuck off Chuck, I knew you couldn't help but take the fucking piss."

"Ah come on Hank, I'm only joking, so what, you're carrying a little extra timber these days."

"Don't they call it a sympathy belly?" Nik retorted with a snigger.

"Both you and Simon did the same when your girls were expecting." Nik pointed to Charlie.

"I can still take you all down brothers, just remember that."

"Let's fucking have it then!" Charlie shouted with excitement as he practically ripped off his shirt and ran towards Henry, attempting to wrestle him to the ground.

Several minutes later a bemused Tom, David & Callum leaned against the bar as they watched the five large men act like kids again, shirts off, clumsily trying to pin each other down onto the floor. Henry was bearing the brunt of most of this after his challenge.

"Are they always like this Col?" Tom inquired, as Colin sighed and nodded.

"Fucking hell Piers, mind my face." Henry grunted as he tried to get away from his brothers. They helped him to his feet as he grumpily wiggled his nose, checking for damage.

"Let's try something a little more civilised shall we chaps?" Tom began, as the Cavill boys wiped their faces with their tops. "A little arm wrestling competition will sift the boys from the men I think…"

Callum looked up at the ceiling and chose to Irish up his coffee…

After an enforced break to let Penny rest, the classic baby shower games began. Labour or orgasm faces, famous baby photos, nappy snacks, and guessing the weight of the baby.

Ben sneaked down to check on Penny and see if he was missing out on any fun. He made sure to give Penny the biggest hug, with a kiss for his baby sister too before he scampered back to his own party.

Penny was helped up to go and cut the stunning three tiered buttercream cake. It had edible flowers pressed into the icing and a beautiful gold crepe paper flower on the very top. The ladies had all worked up an appetite, so before long they all were tucking into the deliciously moist masterpiece.

Penny stood looking out into the back garden, the festoon lights making everything look romantic. She could see some movement inside the marquee, but it was too far to make out what was what. She could guarantee that Henry was already three sheets to the wind, but she was glad he was letting his hair down after how hard he'd been working lately.

"Right-ho, everyone pair up and get comfy. Remember the rules gents, and may the best man win." Tom announced as he sat down to square up to Charlie. David was against Simon, Callum against Piers, and Henry against Nik.

They took turns so they could watch each match. The aim was to all arm wrestle each other, and the two with the most wins face-off at the end.

Callum was reluctant to join in, not sure if he was up for the testosterone-fuelled challenge, but he was also a little curious to see if he could beat Henry.

Nik, Tom, Henry, and Callum all faired well unsurprisingly. Tom gloated knowing they'd underestimated his natural strength. All that rock climbing was finally paying off. Charlie pouted every time he lost, only managing to beat David. Henry was being pretty cocky, sure that no one would be a match for him. He knew Nik was his biggest opponent, so braced himself for a challenge. But his flippant attitude to Callum led to a quick surprise defeat. Henry's pride was dented. His brothers found this beyond hilarious. Tom and Callum were deadlocked in their match for so long that the others started to get bored. They were both evenly matched. But Callum's larger frame eventually won for him. Finally once the scores were totted up the last match to decide the winner was on. Henry vs Callum.

Both men shook their arms and stretched. Trying to revive their overworked muscles after so many matches. Both tried pretending that they weren't too fussed about winning, but once they sat down, face to face again the atmosphere changed. This time Henry wasn't going to underestimate the farmer, he knew Callum would love to have bragging rights from this, but Henry wasn't going to allow it. He was fucking Superman for crying out loud, his inebriated brain kept reminding him.

After the first minute, both held up their sides. Each huffing and puffing with exertion. Sweat dripped off the end of Henry's nose, whilst Callum's neck and face were bright red.

"Ready to quit yet Supes?" Callum goaded.

"Just about to ask you the same thing Giles." Henry spat, with gritted teeth.

The other men shouted out their support and tried to put them off at the same time. Charlie was filming on his phone, adding to Henry's annoyance.

After another few minutes of stalemate, Colin piped up.

"Boys, you're going to cause yourselves some mischief like this, let's just call it a tie now."

Both ignored Colin and looked into each other's eyes. Neither wanted to give up, but neither felt they could keep this up much longer. Henry's bicep and forearm were on fire, his fingers threatening to cramp. The tendons in Callum's neck looked painful as he breathed heavily through his flared nostrils.

"Decorative muscles don't always equate to real world strength Cavill." Callum muttered, using what felt like his last attempt to put Henry off.

"And shoving your arm up a cow's arse does too then?" Henry added with a cocky smile.

From nowhere Callum found some extra energy as he managed to push Henry's arm to the side. Henry dug deep and used every ounce of strength, but at this compromised angle, he just didn't have the power to come back. He grunted loudly and suddenly the back of his hand hit the table, he'd lost.

"What the fuck Hank?" Charlie shouted at him.

Henry stood up, knocking his chair over in the process as he angrily walked back to the bar to reclaim his drink before heading out into the field.

Callum was amazed he'd properly beaten him, after accepting that their first match was a lucky punt. Disappointingly he didn't feel as elated as he'd expected either. He stood up, rubbing his arm as he received several pats on the back in congratulations.

Penny leaned against the kitchen island nibbling on some red peppers, one of her main pregnancy cravings, as she shifted her weight to her other foot. Marianne walked up behind her giving her a small back rub as she passed.

"Do you want me to check on them Penny?" she asked.

"Who?" Penny replied, knowing exactly who she meant as the kids had only just been checked on by Helen.

"The boys outside my dear, I can see that you're fretting a little."

"Am I that obvious?!" Penny chuckled, holding her bump as it moved. "I guess I'm feeling a little needy, I just hate being apart from him at the moment. I feel safe when he's around."

Marianne wrapped her arm behind Penny, giving her a tight squeeze.

"That's very sweet my dear, not needy at all. And perfectly natural in your condition too."

"I'm sure they're having a good time, and don't need us checking up on them," Penny admitted, making herself drag her focus away from the garden.

When Henry didn't return to the tent Callum poured a couple of whiskeys and went in search outside.

He found Henry sitting on the wooden ceremony platform at the back of the garden. He'd watched as Penny looked wistfully out into the garden and her sweet interaction with his mum. Tears had tumbled down his cheeks.

"Hey" Callum announced.

"Hey", Henry added, sniffing and wiping his face as he gladly accepted the scotch.

Callum plonked himself down beside Henry, almost losing his balance in the process.

They sat in silence for a few moments, just watching the ladies inside, smiling at their happy faces and bursts of laughter.

"Looks like they're having a good time?" Callum interjected.

"It does."

"You ok Henry?"

"Yeah, just needed some air."

Callum swigged the last of his whiskey down with a grimace. He was feeling bad thinking he'd upset Henry.

They both looked up again as a loud cheer was heard from the house. They could see Penny hugging Kate and creasing up in laughter.

"You're a fucking lucky man, Cavill."

Henry turned to look at Callum, wondering where this praise was coming from.

"I know - I know it's no secret how I feel about Penny, but above all I'm just glad she's happy again. You make her happy. Despite your noodle arms."

Henry chuckled and nudged Callum sideways, grabbing him before he toppled over.

"Thanks mate. I never thought I'd find her, I thought I'd never find this kind of happiness. We just need to find this for you too buddy." Henry put his arm around Callum.

"I'm working on it. I'm working on it."

"Don't fanny about this time though, Life is too fucking short."

Callum nodded, sucking in his emotions as they threatened to escape.

"Come on, let's go back to the lads." As he hauled himself up and held a hand out for Henry.

Karaoke was the next segment of Penny's Hen do. Heather and Charlotte started off the proceedings with their duet of "Islands in the Stream" and Helen continued the theme with her very warbly version of "Nine to Five". Penny was quite enjoying being the sober one amidst the gaggle of loud, sozzled women. Kate decided to attempt her favourite Van Morrison tune, dedicating it to Penny, even though she had blue eyes. A few of the kids sneaked downstairs to see what all the noise was about before deciding that they preferred their video games to their mothers vocal talents.

Heather was desperate for Penny to join in, but she felt far too comfortable in her chair, and sober to be tempted. So Heather roped Marianne and Julia into a murdering of 'It's Raining Men'.

Back in the marquee Tom was back on the decks to his one loyal fan, Charlie. Reliving their Ibiza days. Henry walked straight past, spying the last sausage and grabbing for the scotch. Piers beat him too it as he flung his arm around his little brother and poured them both another drink.

"Can't believe you're finally tying the knot little brother." he shouted.

Henry nodded, and grinned. "About bloody time eh?" Henry raised his glass, "To my beautiful bride to be." he shouted as he staggered back slightly. All the men raised their drinks.

"To Penny!" they all cheered.

Tom returned to the main table where the conversation had turned to ex-girlfriends.

"Si, remember that girl you used to date with the lazy eye?" Charlie began, getting far too excited by his recollection. "whatever happened to her?"

Simon gave Charlie the death stare and raised his middle finger to his annoying younger brother.

"She broke my heart Charles, you know that you little runt."

The rest of the brothers and Colin all found this hilarious.

"What about that Spanish girl Charlie?" Simon retorted. "the one you bought a car for and she left you the week after?"

"She was Portuguese actually, and it was only a Fiat 500, not a fucking Porsche, no biggie." as he returned the middle finger gesture enthusiastically.

"What about that nice young girl that you used to court Henry? The one with the dubious family background." Colin asked, with a knowing grin already on his face.

"She was lovely, but unfortunately her brothers were the next Krays and frightened the absolute life out of me." he turned to Tom "They threatened me with castration if I dishonoured their sister!"

"Castration eh? Who would threaten such a thing?!" he winked back at Henry.

A quite lull in the conversation allowed the baseline of one of the karaoke songs to drift through the night air.

"They fucking singing in there?" Nik shouted, standing up to look outside. "Right boys, I think it's time we merge these parties, who's coming?"

"Finally!" Henry shouted, feeling glad to see his Penny again.

Helen was just starting 'Copacabana' As Charlie, Tom and Piers noisily flung open the back doors to announce their arrival.

"Someone ordered the Dreamboys Ladies?" Charlie shouted as he made a beeline for Heather with his sexiest walk.

Penny craned her neck to see the newcomers as she spotted Henry and Callum stumbling through the door together. Henry's shirt was partially unbuttoned. And what buttons were fastened were in the wrong holes. Callum was still topless as was Nik after the arm wrestling tournament.

Callum suddenly felt a little conspicuous now with several females eyes upon him.

"What the hell have you lot been up to? You all look like you've been pulled through a hedge backwards." Kate laughed as she tried to fix the mess that was her husband's hair.

Henry reached the back of the sofa and kissed Penny's forehead as she leaned back to smile at him. He then dramatically rolled over the back of the chair, narrowly missing Julia's drink.

"Woah, steady on honey." Penny added, chuckling at her lumbering man.

Henry composed himself and with a soppy smile manouvered himself to sit close up to her.

"My beautiful Pen Pen. I missed you." he smooched, lips searching for hers.

"Missed you too Yogi, did you have fun?"

"I did, I may have had a lickle too much to drink though, sorry." he pouted, looking up at Penny with puppy dog eyes.

"That's ok Hen, I don't mind. Just don't throw up on the carpet later."

"Right!!" Tom spoke loudly into the mike, making Penny jump. "All you lovely ladies have been making the sweetest of sounds, but now it's time for the men to show you all how it's done. Big man, come here and serenade your betrothed." He gestured to a reluctant Henry as Penny smiled and pushed him a little to gee him up. Everyone shouted encouragement and before long he relented and hauled himself off the sofa, slightly swaying as he finally straightened up. Tom walked over to him and ushered him back to the karaoke machine.

"So, what will it be cherub? Pick something that'll make her cry." Tom whispered into his ear.

After a bit of deliberating Henry pushed his hair out of his eyes, rotated his shoulders, and took a deep breath as the first chords began. All eyes were upon him as Penny cringed in embarrassment.

She grabbed a cushion to hide behind when she realised what he'd chosen, knowing she'd be in tears before too long.

Henry's deep baritone attempted the American screech of "Oh Lord, won't you buy me, a Mercedes Benz.." Only Penny knew the significance of this and laughed as the others looked at each other and her in mild confusion. Henry kept his gaze fixed on Penny during the whole song, enjoying her reaction. They both thought back to that bitterly cold, grey Saturday in January. Such a chance meeting. A real turning point for them both. It truly felt like fate had intervened in their lives to make their paths cross. As Henry finished the last note Penny shuffled to stand up, Henry's strong arms ready to help her as she stood and they embraced. Their tears weren't the only ones after witnessing their dedication to each other.

"Oh honey, that was beautiful." she managed to say, as Henry's broad shoulder muffled her face. Henry kept hold of her for the longest time until Charlie grabbed the mike…

----

Penny had just finished what felt like her thousandth toilet visit of the day to find Henry waiting for her outside in the corridor. A naughty look in his eyes.

"Henry."

"Penelope." he replied as he stepped towards her and swept his hands around her curves. "This dress is un-fucking-believable Pen. I've been trying so hard not to ravish you in front of our friends and family. I'm literally struggling right now." He took her hand and led it over the impressive bulge in his dress shorts.

"You're kidding right? I look like an over-stuffed sausage Hen." Penny blushed, enjoying Henry's continuous exploration of her stomach, boobs and bottom. She tilted her head back as he gently pushed her back against the door.

Henry ignored her comment, leaning forward to press his forehead against hers.

"Can we have lots of babies honey, I want to keep you like this forever." Henry breathed heavily his eyes dark with arousal.

Penny raised her eyebrows at him "Christ almighty Cavill, you're practically feral tonight. Let's just get this little Princess sorted first before we talk about any more. And then we'll see how frisky you are when there's a newborn in the house."

Again, Penny's words washed over his inebriated brain and he continued to paw at her and kiss down her neck, pulling at the neckline of her dress attempting to find her nipple.

Tom walked around the corner nonchalantly and smacked Henry on his backside.

"That's what got you into this situation you horny fuckers, move aside, I need to drain the lizard."

Penny chuckled, relieved it wasn't either of Henry's parents that caught them.

"Come on honey, let's get you some water to cool you down." Penny suggested as she ushered her big bear back towards the party and Heathers singing.

Henry was stolen away by Simon, Charlie and Colin to sing Bohemian Rhapsody whilst Penny stood stretching her back against the kitchen island, wondering whose hangover would be worse tomorrow morning.

Callum sidled up to her.

"You ok Penny?" he asked, trying his best to sound more sober than he was.

"A little achey, but enjoying the entertainment." she chuckled.

"You look amazing by the way." he mumbled, instantly regretting his compliment. His cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

Penny looked up at him, trying to judge his emotion after his unexpected praise. He looked over at the others with an unconvincing passive expression on his face.

"Thanks Callum, everyones been so sweet trying to make me feel less like a bloody whale."

"No!" he stated, louder than they both expected. "It really suits you - being - being, pregnant. You're - glowing Penny." Penny looked back up at him, to see him looking back down at her. A strange expression on his face. Penny smiled, hooking her hand around his arm and giving him a small side hug.

"I'm genuinely happy for you, you know that right?" he continued, Penny looked over to see Henry's eyes on them briefly.

"Thanks Callum. You ok?" she asked, squeezing his arm and resting one hand on his shoulder.

He nodded and smiled. His eyes glassy with tears as he drank from his beer bottle.

Penny opened her mouth again to say something, anything. But an increasingly loud squeal broke the moment as Julia and Kate (who were getting on like a house on fire) barrelled up to Penny to grab her away.

"Pen-Pen, you can't say no. They've fucking got it!" as she pulled Penny away reluctantly. She looked back as Callum smiled and shooed her away. Julia unsubtly stayed behind to seize her opportunity with the farmer.

"No, No, No. It's been too long." Penny protested, seeing what she was being dragged towards.

"Come on Pen, let's have it!" Tom encouraged as Nik and Charlie joined in.

Henry stood watching this with a befuddled expression as Marianne adorably re-buttoned his shirt for him.

"Can't chicken out now Pen, unless you're too old to be cool babes." Kate goaded.

"Fuck off Roberts, give me that mike." Penny narrowed her eyes at her bestie as she abandoned her awkwardness for the challenge.

Penny launched into her memorised and well-practised rendition of 'Alphabet Aerobics', not dropping a beat or missing a word. Most of the Cavills were agog at Penny's unexpectedly skilled rap, Charlie was bouncing around like a puppy with excitement.

"Shit the bed Penny! You were fucking amazing!" Charlie shouted, draping one arm heavily over Penny's shoulders. Henry appeared to rescue her as Charlie switched to Henry's shoulder. "Did you know about your woman's hidden talents Hank?!"

"She's a woman of many hidden talents young Chuck." Henry purred with a dramatic arched brow.

"Rap Battle it is then Penelope Green." Tom announced as Penny shook her head.

"I'm too pregnant for all of this Thomas!" she protested.

"Come on! You don't hear Dre making that fucking excuse do you?" He began to giggle, finding his own joke hilarious.

Penny relented easily and performed several more hip hop classics alongside Heather, Kate, Tom, Charlie, and even Henry.

The lyrics to 'It's Tricky' coming out of Henry's mouth were hilarious for all involved. Henry hammed it up as only actors can do and gave it his best shot. Penny genuinely thought she was going to wet herself at one point with laughter.

Eventually, the singing turned into a more chilled end to the evening of chatting, drinking, and more eating. Penny was back in her comfy spot with Henry and Kate sat on either side of her, both having their own conversations with her unborn child.

Kate leaned forward, hands cupped on the globe of Penny's stomach. "Listen up short stuff, Auntie Katie will be making such a fuss of you when you finally get here. You might have been a surprise.."

"Kate!" Penny exclaimed as Kate dismissed her with an annoyed wave of her hand

She continued "You might have been a surprise, but you will be so loved and will bring us all so much bloody happiness. Now stay in until the 10th as I have money riding on that date."

"Katie, you're incorrigible, and so bloody soppy. Love you." she reached as well as she could and pulled Kates head towards her lips.

It was Henry's turn to offer his wisdom. "Mummy's done a fabulous job of baking you, my little cupcake. Can't wait to see your pretty little face and kiss your tiny toesies. Now just keep chilling for a few more days, my little girl." He instantly held his hand over his mouth. Realising his slip up.

"A girl?!" Kate asked "A Girl!!" she then shouted as everyone's attention was caught.

Penny shot pretend daggers at a cringing Henry as their news was out. She didn't really mind, and seeing the joy it brought everyone who now knew she couldn't be angry at him.

Kisses, handshakes, and hugs came from all directions as Marianne burst into tears. "Just perfect darlings, we needed more girls. Wonderful news." she sobbed as Colin patted her back.

Penny stifled another yawn just as Henry looked around.

"Right Mama, you need to sleep, let's hit the hay."

Penny protested politely, but was more than ready for her bed after such a full on evening.

Henry grasped her hands and slowly helped her stand, he could tell she was in a reasonable amount of pain despite her smiles.

"Thank you everyone for making this such an amazing evening, I'm sorry to be such a lightweight but feel free to keep the party going!" Penny spoke as Henry held her tight.

"Thanks guys, love you all!" Henry added as he ushered Penny past several more kisses and hugs.

If Henry had been sober he would have carried Penny up the stairs seeing how uncomfortable she was. Instead, he tried his best to guide her hips forward to take some of her weight. He also couldn't resist grabbing her arse in the process too.

They poked their heads into Ben's room to see them all fast asleep and the room filled with bodies. Penny had never known so many people to be in her house overnight.

Despite his lack of coordination Henry tried to help Penny to clear away the pile of clothes on the bed, left from Penny's earlier stress. After removing her floral decorations she began to wriggle out of the dress. Unsurprisingly Henry appeared to help. Kissing her shoulders in the process.

"Hmm, Pen, you're gonna get me all worked up again honey," as they stared at each other in the floor length mirror. Both watching Penny disrobe. Henry abandoned his clothes by his feet as he stood behind Penny and watched his reflection massaging her heavy breasts and taut stomach.

"Hold that thought, Cavill. I need to pee." as she made a dash for the bathroom. After cleaning her teeth and removing her makeup she returned to the bedroom to find Henry asleep on the bed.

"Gah!" she complained, as she haughtily pushed his knee over to his side of the bed so she could enter her cave of cushions. After finally finding a reasonably comfy position Henry snorted himself awake.

"Ung, fell 'sleep" he mumbled "Sorry baby," he said, his voice muffled by his pillow. He reached his arm up and plonked it heavily onto Penny's bump.

"I noticed." Penny said with subtle annoyance, hoping to get some time alone with her bear.

Henry sat up, with one eye open. Penny chuckled at his comical expression.

"I'm awake now!" he stated with a cheeky grin. He sidled up to Penny, mirroring her pose.

"Did you have a good night honey?"

"I did indeed, although I missed you lots." he admitted coyly.

"Missed you too Yogi, even though you were only in the field."

After a moments silence Henry piped up.

"Pen. Do I….. do I look fat?" he asked sheepishly, staring down at his stomach. "I'm sorry I've let myself go lately, I'll work extra hard to get back into shape."

It took everything Penny had not to laugh at his endearing comments, but she knew how much of a sensitive subject this was.

"Henry, honey." she took his hand and squeezed it. "First off, you don't look fat, you're not fat. You can be whatever shape you want to be, whatever makes you happy. Not me, not your family, not your fans, you honey. You're so used to trying to maintain an unrealistic physique, exhausting yourself, depriving yourself, and for what? A few photos, a few moments in a movie. It's crazy. And actually unhealthy in lots of ways. This is normal honey." she rubbed his softened stomach.

"You still think I'm sexy Pen?" he asked in all seriousness.

"You're fucking kidding me right? I'm sat here like this and you're the one thinking you're fat and unsexy?!"

Penny stared at him, seeing that he was still full of doubts and insecurities.

She pulled his head towards her chest as his arm cradled her belly.

"Baby, you're such a doofus at times. Do I really need to tell you that you are the sexiest freakin' man alive?!! That all I want to do every time I see you is run my nails down your back and lick your chest."

Penny flung aside her largest pillow and with all her strength swung her leg over Henry and straddled him.

"Fuck, Pen. Steady on honey." he gasped, as his hands automatically grasped her waist. "Christ almighty" he continued as his hands roamed up and down her. She was wearing a soft cotton sleep bra and matching knickers. She rested on her side and slipped off her bottoms before sitting back over Henry again.

"Pen, oh god. This is so fucking hot. But Pen, Pen." he threw his head back onto the pillow as she grasped his cock, tugging it and then rubbing herself over it. He rutted upwards as he grasped her thick thighs, Penny supported her back as she moaned loudly in pleasure.

"Pen, stop, we can't."

Penny took Henry's hard dick and lined him with her entrance. Henry was torn, reaching out to massage her breasts. She began to slide down onto him slowly as he grasped her arms.

"No! Pen, we can't risk it." again she ignored him, lost in her passion.

"Stop!" he shouted, finally able to make her listen.

Penny looked at him in confusion and hurt. "Why?" she asked.

"The baby, Pen. What if you go into labour?"

Penny continued to sit down further onto Henry, feeling the delicious stretch. She clenched, making him throw his head back in pleasure again.

"I'm fine honey, I've got weeks until she's due."

"I just don't want to risk it before the wedding Pen Pen." He held his large paw against the side of her pouting face. "Lay back down and I will help ease your frustrations, my love."

Penny relented, pouting, feeling tired and uncomfortable now the moment was lost. But she soon perked up on feeling Henry's strong digits delving between her legs. Penny ground against his touch, needing more friction. Henry's tongue swirled noisily around Penny's nipples as he readjusted his position, kissing her as he moved. He knelt on the bed, between her legs. Smoothing his hands up along Penny's legs, hips, waist, and breasts. A greedy grin on his face. Penny clenched at his electrifying gaze. His desire and lust felt ready to explode. Unexpectedly he froze and scrunched up his face. He raised a finger.

"Hold that thought, Pen" as he leaped off the bed, hopping as one foot was wrapped in the sheets, heading for the bathroom. At first, Penny thought he was going to throw up, which would have made her feel absolutely devastated, considering where he'd just been, but the familiar sound of him peeing like a racehorse echoed from the ensuite, and a loud "Ahhh…" on top.

Penny chuckled as she waited for him to return. After some noisy hand washing and fumbling in the dark, Henry plodded back over to her, locating her feet first and climbing between her legs again.

"Right. Where were we..?"

"Actually, Hen. I'm feeling super tired again, sorry…"

"Oh.." he said, surprised by her sudden switch. "Ok, my sweetness. I'm sorry for ruining the moment."

Penny didn't disagree with him. "Just make sure our wedding night is more romantic honey," she said, sleepily. Tucking her pillows around her as she made herself comfortable.

Henry leaned over and kissed her shoulder, helping tuck another pillow behind her at the same time.

"Just you wait Penelope, Daddy's going to pull all his tricks out of the bag."

They both giggled at his bravado as Henry snuggled up behind her, smoothing his hand up and down the contours of her hip and thigh as she quickly succumbed to her sleep.

Authors Comments I hope you enjoyed the run-up to the big day. The interactions with their friends and family. I really enjoyed writing this chapter, I hope you liked reading it!! Thank you all for your continued support with this epic saga that is slowly coming to its natural end xxx

Chapter 32 coming soon...

[secretivemessenger]

Sorry for updating so late, been busy today

I finished Hashihime of the old book town 2 days ago, it was absolutely amazing, i think i'm gonna replay the first route again, it's just so good😭

I bought another bl game from the same publisher(?) And i thought they would have the same mc for each route but turns out the mc changes every route, i didnt know this and got attached to the first mc, needless to say, i am unable to continue with the 2nd and third route as i am too attached to mc, yes i have attachment issues, i'll probably play the game once my attachment to the mc is gone or sum, probably will take months if not a year or two.

I've bought Hashihime of the old book town, Royal Alchemist & Uuultrac so far, i'm gonna get Divine speaker next but after that, i feel lost on what to get, there really aren't many bl game that interest me, hashihime set my standards wayyy too high to the point i want to make a visual novel but remembered i'm shit at using softwares, plus i dont know if my art will turn out good. (And i have no idea how to draw backgrounds)

Alright so for the update of the date, we went to get some dinner, we originally wanted to go to a fancy restaurant as he suggested but then we decided to go to his place last minute, when we did get to his place, he got changed from his suit to a more casual wear and started cookin', he made some Spaghetti Carbonara for the two of us, he also brought a vase of flowers to the table, lit up some candles and turned off the lights, it was pretty romantic, i remember every single detail, his cooking was delicious as always, after we had our fill, i offered to wash the dishes as he already cooked after that he gave me some of his clothes to change into since i only wore formal clothes as i thought we would only go to a restaurant, and then go back to our respective places, he lent me a shirt and pants, we were almost the same height so it fit, i took a bath and so did he (seperately) , we then got on the couch and since he didnt have hashihime of the old book town on his computer or laptop, we decided to watch a gameplay of it on the tv, why did we do that you might ask, because i wanted him to see Professor's route, plus he was a bit curious, i was crying mid way through the route as the route was so sad😭, he saw me tearing up so he grabbed a tissue and wiped my tears, it wss kinda awkward since i never rlly got this treatment before...I thanked him and apologized for letting my emotions get the better of me lmao, he told me there was no reason for me to apologize and we continued watching, by the end of it, he was really heart warmed by the gameplay, by that time it was getting a bit late but since he didnt need to work the next morning, we stayed up some more, playing games, baking, ate snacks and made smoothies, IT WAS SO FUN😫

When we went to sleep, instead of me taking the couch, this time he told me to stay on the bed with him, I agreed as we have stayed in each other's beds together before, we cuddled each other to sleep, when i woke up, it was about 9/10am, he had already woken up before me, again preparing breakfast, we ate and he took me home not long after, i fell asleep in his car, i woke up on my bed, him on my couch, i fell asleep for about an hour, he said he had to carry me as he didn't want to disturb me, i was shocked he could carry me but then remembered i'm very light...

After that nothing really happened i was just busy throughout the day and almost falling asleep every second, sorry if this is too long, i was just so happy this all happened, i never had such fun in my whole entire life😭😭 applogies for typos anywhere, still pretty tired but unable to sleep for some reason,maybe it's too soon but i'm planning on initiating the first kiss next time we go on a date, should i invite him to a date a week from now? Or is it too soon? Any advices??

Man your really obsessed with games

Also that was too sweeet like form a movie and some , and no it’s never too early and not too late so go for it

[savrenim]

hi hi hi. so I just got into the Hamilton fandom, I swear I am four years late where did everybody go, and, well. I am apparently a hamburr shipper. bcs that is my life now. anyway I saw your fic ifmlam and I swear it is my favourite of all the fics I've ever read (and trust me I've read literally thousands). I love it so so much, how do you write fics like that??? I cried about four times during the whole thing, I stayed up till 4am reading it even when I had to wake up at 7 because it is just. that. good. I could not stop thinking about it for days afterwards and ifmlam has just ruined me. I can't think of listen to Hamilton without thinking of ifmlam anymore.

on to my qursttion: is it abandoned? of course it's perfectly FINE if it is. don't let anyone tell u differently, your fic is YOURS and u are amazing.

but pls I really need closure from ur fic, it has been haunting me if its abandoned or ongoing and I've read ur other fics and they are just chefskiss and thank you so much for writing them all. thank you thank you thank you, I will never be able to thank you enough for writing this fic and for everything it's done for me. I am probably thousands of miles away but I am sending you virtual jugs through a co.puter screen right now.

(don't feel pressured to reply to this or update it flam, I know how overwhelming it can get with so many messages and after a while u get desensitized to it. u can literally reply "thx. itfmlam is abandoned" and I would still be amazingly star struck. anyway has gotten way too long and I need to sleep and I'm sorry u probably won't see this so I'm just talking to myself right now but bye!!)

and thank you so so much for writing itfmlam.

aaaah hello anon!

thank you so so much???? I am so??? honored??? that ifmlam rates so highly to you, and also that you've read my other fics??????

the answer to the "is ifmlam abandoned" question is probably the worst possible one, which is pretty much "I do want to finish it, both for the folks that still want closure as well as it bothers to me have abandoned projects that are in the public eye/ already partially published, but also, it is last on my current writing projects list"

my current actually active writing projects list, kind of in order of priority, is

I'm literally three chapters away from being Actually Fully Done with the not-quite-first-not-quite-second let's call it 1.5th draft of an actual?? full?? original?? novel?? Opus which of course then goes out to beta readers and then gets who-knows-how-much edited and then maybe beta readers again if a lot does change and then a copyeditor my mom, my copyeditor is my mom, and maybe my little brother he's one of the betas but is very good at catching typos and then I!!! get to publish it!!!! which is the single thing I am most excited for!!!!!!!!! this should be closed up in the next week or two, and then take a while for people to actually read the draft and get back to me.

I really desperately want to finish my open-but-like-90%-written fic, which means we raise it up, the final chapter of to the bottom of the river bc I realized that it was kind of incomplete, and the second chapter of a buried and a burning flame because any more work there will need to wait until the author publishes the next book in the series. this should be closed up in the next month or two.

Speedwrite the draft of the second book of the Opus series so that hopefully by the time book 1 edits are happening, I have an almost complete draft of the second book. this is mostly me side-eyeing myself about taking nearly four years to write the first book, but that is solidly in part because I had so many other open projects which point 2 is about clearing that docket. this should be done in the next year.

And then just have my major projects be, at least until books 1-5 are written and published, books 1-5 of that because that is arguably the first major 'plot arc' of the series, so if I'm looking for a pause point on writing, that's probably where to stop.

There are two or three other short side projects (a weird fun second person short story tentatively titled witch-queen, a collection of four short stories Memoirs about a not-so-evil necromancer and the shenanigans he gets up to trying to rule a kingdom, working title Perfectly Normal Recipe Blog which is a collaborative project about a perfectly normal recipe blog that definitely doesn't include anything out of the normal) that will happen when they happen

There are other projects that are on the backburner -- The Numanok Files, a series of probably 12-15 short novellas about a mercenary/ bounty hunter esque person in space whose specialty is dealing with hauntings, but, like, 80% of their jobs is actually "you are effectively a space home inspector pointing out faulty wiring reacting to solar flares/ there's a weird alien fungus/ it's carbon monoxide okay change your atmosphere filters" and 20% of it is punching ghosts; there's a post-post apocalypse novel that I want to write that I know characters and general pacing and half the setting but need to work out the other half and figure out how much aesthetic I want to commit to; there's Strangeside7 aka spacerace book that is my reaction to how much I love how Redline the anime movie commits itself to "no we are about a race, like 60% of the screentime is just fully going to be an utterly ridiculous sci fi space race"; there's even a ridiculous YA trilogy that I would have to completely transplant the setting but might end up writing because the interplay between angel-physics and physics-physics was one of my favorite things in the world. and I guess the weird ridiculous technically a sequel series to ifmlam that was going to be published as original books that was basically me having fun with 'okay I fucking love star wars prequels old rotting space bureaucracy galactic republic style' except with seers and that also still might happen because it does have some of the coolest sci fi concepts and honestly I thiiiink that's all?

but the tl;dr of that timeline is I'm trying to finish a punch of projects Right Now, so that I can write books 2-5 of Opus, and then when I'm done that (which honestly, my average fiction-writing output is close to 100k a year. if I'm concentrating purely on one project, and writing books that are about 100k, we are talking four years. although my job situation is super up in the air in that period and writing might get put solidly on the backburner as I try to make it in academia, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯) I will re-evaluate which projects go next, and that's when ifmlam is likely to come up for review.

I do not have any expectations that I will make it as an original author. I'm planning on posting all of my stuff online for free, but, like. it is incredibly difficult to convince people to try out even a piece of free and easily accessibly original work even if one has a huge following, I am a very small fanfiction author, and from what I can tell the majority of the people who are interested in my work are mostly interested in me finishing ifmlam. writing is a hobby for me, and while I'm writing mostly for me--and hence the for me bit at least for the next five years is pretty solidly going to be this series that I am deeply excited about and have sunk my heart and soul into every single aspect of--I'm human, and I don't really like shouting into the void, and I expect if I spend five years publishing to absolutely no response I will either stop writing for a while and do other things gods know my life is busy enough, return to fandom in general to write some other fanfic about whatever I get deeply into, or return to a work that I actually get response to. so ifmlam will probably start getting worked on a bit at that point one way or another. unless, of course, we are in the incredibly rare timeline in which I do make it as an original author, there are people who are deeply hyped for my original works and an actual demand for them, in which case as you may have noticed there are enough ideas there to keep me busy for a decade or two, and they will just get my full attention instead of fanfiction*. in this timeline, I will do what I was considering doing a few years ago, which is officially declare ifmlam otherwise abandoned and make one more giant chapter update which is a full and cleaned up outline of what I was going to write, interspersed with the scenes already written, and have ifmlam be given at least that closure.

*I want to make it clear that I very much love fanfiction and am proud to have been a fanfiction author and in my heart of hearts would keep writing it forever, I just also have a lot of ideas for characters and settings and magic systems and Aesthetics and I have been biting at the bit to write something that is //mine// and all mine and only mine for a while, I don't see original work as superior so much as there are a dozen fandoms that I am currently in and bursting to make content about except oops these fandoms currently only exist in my head, and I want to correct that

of course given how much as writing is my vent activity and I write what I'm in the mood for, there's a chance I'll feel ifmlam cravings before then, just... expect it to take a couple of years for an update, but also for there to be an update one way of another in a couple of years? but as for right now, I'm turning to original writing, because that is what brings me joy.

but I am really deeply honored that it brought you so much joy!!! and while I will never publish spoilers in a public place, if you message me off anon I am perfectly happy to give a run-down of my current plans for the ending, bc I know "wait a couple years and see" is not the most satisfactory of answers! and hey maybe you'll be like me and once you've given Opus a try you'll decide you like it better too, it does have Seers although they are deeply different Seers than in ifmlam but imo it's very gay and fun and at least politics on one side

[galvanizedfriend]

No, you're not going too fast! I'm sure there are people who haven't caught up yet and I don't mean to spoil the amazingness of this story for them but please have mercy on the rest of us. It's always better to have more to read than to constantly refresh waiting for the next update (or harass the authors to update, I'll try not to cross that line). You know what you did and I don't want you to be sorry but I want you to fix it! Pretty please, with cherries on top! And now you've made me anxious

... Chapter 20. I have given you too much power over my emotional sanity and it's too late to take it back now. Okay, I'm probably being a tad dramatic here but in my defense it's your fault I'm not my more emotionally stable self. So you brought this onto yourself. Fine, enough with the silly rambling, I think you got my point: you're an amazingly talented writer and I can't wait for your next update. Sending you lots of love and inspiration!

oh one more thing I forgot (all that rambling will do that to you): I just LOVE the length of your chapters! It goes along nicely with the complexity of your characters and matches the relatively high pace of the story. I feel that it is needed to adequately tell a story with that much plot and numerous characters but it is so rare to see in the fandom. The only other author with such long chapters that comes to mind right now is idiot--wind (and oh boy, is she amazing too!) but I love it! :)

Ok, this comment calls for my favorite gif!

Nonnie! 😭😭 Thank you for the love and inspiration, I will cherish it and wrap myself around it. ❤❤

You have no idea how happy I am to know that people are looking forward to updates! ❤ It’s the kind of thing that makes my entire week and it gets super pumped to work on the next chapter. I have the whole story finished, but I always go back to read it for the millionth time, see if I can spot any more typos or forgotten words (happens a lot to me), or if there’s anything to rewrite. And because these chapters are like 20k words long 😂😂 it takes a minute. But I promise I have already started working on the next update. Also, thank you for being kind on my ridiculously long chapters! lol I sometimes feel really bad about this, for real. My mission is to try and make my chapters as short as I can. As you can see, I’m a failure.

While I understand that I was maybe a little evil, I am not sorry for what I did! 😂😂 I don’t want to spoil anything about what’s to come, but there are 12 chapters to go, so. Keep that in mind!

And ANON! 💖 Yes, yes, yes for @idiot--wind ! I feel so flattered that you put me on the same shelf as her because she is AMAZING! Her TO rewriting lives in my heart as canon.  💖 💖

[angst-in-space]

hi! do you mind briefly describing your writing process? i've been trying to get into it lately, but i've never written before and i'm curious about how you do it :D

hello anon! first of all, congrats on starting your writing journey - that's very exciting and i wish you the best!

obviously everyone's writing process is different, so what works for me may not work for every writer in the world. but below is an explanation of what my own process is (sorry it’s so long lol):

when i first get an idea, i start a document that has two sections: a brainstorming section and an outlining section.

the brainstorming section is the more "messy" section where i spill out ideas as they come to me with no particular order/structure (the general concept, the characters' roles in the story, random scenes i want to include, etc.)

then i start outlining. outlines vary widely from writer to writer; i know some writers who have very detailed scene-by-scene outlines, some who have very loose outlines, and some who don’t outline at all. personally, i tend to do a bulleted list of events in the story from start to finish. this can of course be flexible and subject to change when i actually begin writing––but before i start, i like to have a fairly detailed plan of everything that happens in the story.

while i’m not saying you have to do this, i’ll say that in my own experience it helps tremendously in the long-run. i find that if i have a full outline before i start writing, i have a much better sense of direction and purpose which prevents me from hitting a wall. it’s like having a little GPS with me, taking me from point to point - but as i actually make my way through, i might find some better/alternate routes along the way. ;)

once i have a full outline, i start writing. i always write things chronologically (from start to finish); i know a lot of authors prefer to write scenes out of order, so do whatever works for you! personally i’ve always written things in order just because i feel like it helps me kind of “live out” the story alongside the characters, gauge how the pacing feels along the way, etc.

i think writing that rough draft is probably the most challenging part and it’s a little tricky to advise how to go about doing it since everyone’s brains works differently. i think it’s important to remember through this process that your rough draft is not final, and that you can always go back and change things if it’s not working.

i also think it helps to set goals for yourself. these could be word goals (like “i’m gonna write 100 words a day”) or time goals (“i’m gonna write for 30 mins every day”). i have a lot of issues with concentration/motivation, so having little goals like that can be useful for me. note that, of course, if you can’t always meet your goals it’s okay––life happens, some days you’ll feel more motivated than others, and any progress at all is still progress! and progress can also include brainstorming, editing, etc.

if you’re like me and have trouble focusing, there’s a few helpful tools out there you might check out. i’m a big fan of write or die, a site where you can choose a time/word goal and try to reach the word goal before time runs out. despite its intense name, it has “reward”, “consequence”, and “stimulus” modes; i’m a bigger fan of the reward and stimulus modes which reward you with positive sounds/images as you write (whereas consequence mode makes annoying noises at you if you stop writing for too long lol). i also use cold turkey writer pretty religiously; it’s an app where you set a word or time goal and it blocks out everything else on your computer until you reach that goal.

once i have a complete rough draft, i generally will give myself at least a couple days to step back from it before i start editing. i find it’s helpful to have that brief mental break and to come back to the piece with fresh eyes.

i start with minor edits first (i.e. looking for typos and other small mistakes, taking out unnecessary words, etc.). As I do this, I flag any parts that feel awkward or not fleshed out enough; I don’t delve too deep into fixing those yet, just make a note to myself like “the end of this scene feels abrupt,” or “this dialogue doesn’t seem quite right and i don’t know why” and so forth (i use google docs so i just use the comments feature for this; i know microsoft word has something similar).

once i’ve done most of the minor edits, i go back and work on the bigger problems i.e. flow issues, reworking sentences/dialogue, etc. if i’m not sure how to fix something after trying it a couple ways, i just leave it and make a note to my betas that i need some advice on that part.

i hand off the fic/chapter to my betas once i’ve done at least one round of edits. i know some writers don’t use betas so it depends on what works for you, but typically i don’t post something without having at least 1-2 people look it over first. i usually leave a few notes for my betas letting them know if there are specific scenes i want some advice on, things i’m not sure about or worried about, etc.

once the piece has been beta’d, i do another round of edits where i make any final changes––mostly minor things, but there’s usually a couple of bigger things i want to fix (i.e. if there are scenes/sections my betas flagged because they thought it could be fleshed out some more).

then…..*drumroll*......i post the fic! (and then lather, rinse, repeat because i have like 5 wips at all times oops).

anyway this got incredibly long and i hope it’s not too overwhelming, but tl;dr my process is: brainstorm, outline, write the first draft, edits round #1, send to betas, edits round #2, post. i hope this helps and if you have any other questions i’m happy to help!

[jordan-maldez]

Jordan Maldez Ficlet 1

A/N: Sorry for any typos and sorry that it's not long

I close Milk and Honey, as this feeling fills my chest. The feeling that comes over me when I finish a book that has changed me. Taking a deep breath, I get out of my bed and put on a pair of flats. If I don't get another book soon, I might start crying again, and I don't need my maids to give me any weird looks. 

I'm headed to the library, Rose!” I shout as I leave. With a quick walk down the staircase that leads up to our rooms, the first floor appears before me. I take a sharp left, which results in a minor collision with a familiar figure. 

Nate panics a little, an apologetic look spreading across his face. “Oh my, I'm sooo sorry!” He exclaims. 

“Oh don't worry about it. It takes two to bump into each other.” I tell him, waving the whole thing away.

“True.” He nods, “So how have you been?”

“I've been good.” I reply, “Still very tired. A lot of late nights. You?”

“Late nights? Why?” He asks.

“Oh uh, mostly like my future and things like that…” I had decided that I wanted to start a family, but it wasn't that easy. I've never really been in a long-term relationship. Not to mention that most people in my town knew me as the girl who jumped from guy to guy.

“Honestly same, so much has happened in the past year it’s crazy.” My worries probably sound stupid, I realize. This guy has to choose a wife out of these 35 girls, all while preparing to run a country. 

“I agree. Although, it's probably been crazier for you since you're a Prince,” I say, “But you know.”

He laughs. “Maybe just a little. But you’re the one who flew across the country to meet a random person, that’s pretty crazy!” I wouldn't exactly put ‘Future king of my country’ under the category of random person, but he does have a point. 

“That is very true,” I also laughing a bit, “These past few weeks have been a rollercoaster.” It wasn't everyday that you are randomly chosen to be whisked off to a palace to compete against 35 other girls for the heart of a prince.

“Life is always an adventure.” Isn't that the truth. “Have I missed out on another jam session?” He asks, referring to the time me and some of the other selected accidentally started a band. At least I think that's what happened. It was all sort of a blur. 

“Nope. Just the one.” I say as a bit of laughter escapes my mouth. 

“Bummer. Totally disappointed in all of you.” He jokes. I glance up at him, his deep brown eyes meeting my pale blue ones. 

“Rest assured, you'll be invited next time. We wouldn't want to disappoint you more than we already have.” I say, also jokingly. 

“I’m not that disappointed.” He replies, returning my smile.

“That's good. Especially since we didn't even know it was going to happen ourselves.” 

“Wait really?” He asks curiously. 

I nod. “Yeah, I was roaming the palace and I ran into the other girls. We headed into Misty's room and the next thing we knew, we were either singing or playing an instrument of some sort.” 

“Ah, that makes much more sense.”

“Definitely not how I thought that day was going to go.” Which was completely true. I expected to be homesick within the first five minutes. Instead, I made three friends -- at least, I think we're friends.

“Even a planned day can change.” He states, a knowing look on his face. 

“That is very true.” 

He laughs. “I would know. With Jace as your best friend,” His face reads ‘yikes', “He’ll make you do some crazy things. Have you met him?”

“Very briefly.” I shrug, “We didn't talk for long.”

“Oh, he’s quite the dude.” He answers. Him saying this kind of shocks me. From what I had seen on TV, Prince Nate didn't seem like the type of person to say “dude”. But I guess he has to be professional when it comes to things like The Report. 

“Yeah? How so?” I ask.

“He’s just always wanting to do something.” He replies, shrugging. 

“What things have you guys done?” 

He laughs. “Everything. Traveled all over Angeles and even other provinces, sneak out at least 2 nights a week, and so much more.” I have to admit, I'm slightly amazed that they are able to sneak out so often considering that there are guards everywhere around the palace. 

“My friend Megan and I do things like that a lot too. She is much more chill though. I'm the adventurous one.”

“That’s the same with Jace and I!” He exclaims, chuckling.

I smile at him. “You seem a little more adventurous than Megan.” 

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” 

“You should. I sometimes have to carry Megan out of her room at night to get her to do something.”

“At least she goes out even when you have to drag her.” 

I laugh. “That's true…”

He looks at his watch, his face going from amused,to panicked. “Oh shoot I’m late for a meeting. I have to go! I’m so sorry.”

“Oh ok,” I say a little disappointed that he has to leave so soon, “I'll see you later then.”

“Yeah this has been nice,” He tells me, “This really has!” He waves, jogging away.

If you had told the me from a year ago, that I would be in the palace talking to a Prince, she probably wouldn't believe you. However, she would laugh in your face if you told her that she would be in the palace, missing the presence of the prince. Yet, here I am.