#I had a hankering for a few things and I COMBINED THEM

[laughterfixs]

Art dump anyone? 👀 had some major needs to wreck some celestial jesters and well…had needs for some of my older ocs so here we go!

Meet Nevera! She’s one of my old ninjago ocs from the times of me making my own serpentine tribes~

The taipanai are a strong and elusive tribe with their venom being their greatest weapon and tool! A few drops can paralyze a grown man for over an hour! But mixed with the right herbs, it can make a potent medicine!

As the saying goes, never trust a snake…Sunny likes her however~!

Fun fact about Ana, she too is adopted! Her mother being Najada! Sun and moon very lovingly refer to her as Nana or Nanajada!

And when Ana is away or busy, sun and moon are still trying to work up the courage to ask their nana for their favorite game.

Nana provides of course~

And much to the boys excitement disappointment, mama and nana will very gladly gang up on them and give them all the loving tickles they deserve~

A nuzzly huffy dragon is a horrible thing to have against your tummy~

[dailydemonspotlight]

Preta - Day 48

Race: Haunt

Alignment: Dark-Chaos

June 5th, 2024

Eastern religions are no stranger to demons, ghosts, and the like, no matter how little we may hear about them overseas- most breakouts from things like Hinduism or Buddhism are the gods and concepts, but unique ideas for monsters also spread like wildfire throughout any belief system. Bad karma reaps worse dividends, after all, and sometimes people need something to point at as an example to not be a bad person in one’s own selfish interest, or even just as a boogeyman to punish naughty children. Today’s demon of the day rests in that first camp, however- the eternally starving specter of a selfish soul, Preta.

Interestingly, Preta, directly translated to ‘hungry ghost,’ is a concept seen throughout multiple religions originating in Southeast Asia. While most famous for appearing in Hinduism, the idea of a Preta can actually be seen in Buddhism, Taoism, and even several folk religions in China as well. This idea has had several different names, but they all fit the general ‘hungry ghost’ idea- words like ပြိတ္တာ, 餓鬼, or เปรต each roughly meaning the same idea, that being of an undead, corrupted spirit tainted by greed in a past life. The reason for this is due to the spread of Buddhism- even as the other religions broke away from Buddhism, they kept the idea of the hungry ghost.

A Preta isn’t exactly as evil as I painted earlier, though- for the most part, it was actually used as a term to notate a person’s with low karma’s soul in-between the realms of life and death, wherein the deceased’s family must go through a series of rituals to help guide their soul into the next life. If a person’s family doesn’t do these things, however, their soul shall be stuck as that of a Preta for all eternity, suffering and starving. The connotation between a Preta and being a corrupted human is down to the fact that, typically, those who would form into Pretas were people who were uncared for by society, and demeaned as evil as a result of that fact. The lack of caring for these people, combined with their already low karma needed to form into a preta, is what causes them to be cursed into this state of half-death.

Once reanimated into a Preta, the soul would be cursed to be forever hungry, typically feeling a hankering for something repugnant or bizarre- things like corpses, feces, mud, and random still-living animals, just to name a few. While a preta, on top of this, the person would have their senses utterly corrupted- a river of water would become a river of pollution, trees would turn into filth, and people themselves would look inhumane, emaciated, or broken apart.

A majority of the time, a Preta is depicted as an emaciated human with a protruding belly and a slender neck, a visual metaphor for their inflicted mindset. A good amount of the time, artwork depicting a Preta displays it in mind-numbing pain, starving and curled up into balls, bawling their eyes out. Some of this artwork also depicts them spewing out flames, connected to a common legend regarding them, that being that any food that enters their mouth would be burned in seconds to cinders, rendering it uneatable. On top of this, their punishment worsens in the form of every temperature being incredibly intense, as the moon barely shining on them in summer feels like the fires of hell while the brightest sun in winter feels like being exposed to liquid nitrogen.

In most Buddhist traditions, preta are beings to be pitied- as people who weren’t capable of achieving good enough karma to pass on peacefully, and as inherently pathetic and sad creatures, some even leave offerings to help encourage the restless wandering spirits to try for better karma in their next life. In Hindu traditions, however, they are far less sympathetic, even if treated with pity as well.

A variety of rituals are undertaken to guarantee that a person doesn’t become a preta upon passing in Hindu tradition. Over the course of a mourning period, rice balls are granted to a symbolic representation of the passed-on person, typically in the form of a clay mound, each rice ball representing a different aspect of a new person. All the while, during this process, the family both grieves and has to partake in several restrictions to guarantee the person passes on, such as the chief mourner partaking in light fasting, not sleeping in a bed, or cleaning themselves. Avoiding one’s deceased loved one from becoming a preta is a major part of Hindu tradition, even to this day- on the thirteenth day of mourning, a common tradition is to perform a major ceremony titled “Preta Karma,” which outlines everything I’ve said above.

In Buddhism, preta are one of the forms of existence post-reincarnation, encompassing the existence of being a ghost. Their torment has already been explored above, but in short, life sucks as a Preta, and most want to pass on again very soon.

Now, with all of that out of the way, which was a lot, how are Preta depicted in SMT? Their design is perfect, in my opinion- it encompasses most depictions of a preta throughout history, all the while bringing its own spin to the table. It’s an iconic demon design for good reason, being simple and acceptable as an early-game mook, while still fitting the generally accepted idea of what a preta looks like. In the series, they are traditionally very early game demons, mostly appearing in the first few dungeons, if not the very first. This tradition has kept up for almost every game in the series, a surprising first in this series- they’ve appeared in almost every SMT game, and in almost ALL of them, they’re pretty much throwaways.

But, I gotta say, we need to give some props to the little guys. They may be fusion fodder, but they had a special place in my heart, and that’s all you really need at the end of the day. Overall, in spite of how complicated a topic this turned out to be, this multicultural hungry ghost has somehow grown to one of my favorite demons just due to how pathetic it is. I kinda love him.

[daveolivetti]

I did this interview for the Drum Media in 1999. Drum Media was a free street press paper at the time. Nunchukka Superfly were an amped-up, in-the-red distortion power trio. They were about to go on the road after a two year break. The interview with Blackie aka Peter Black. He is the chief songwriter, and he seemed pretty pumped to be back playing in this outfit after being away with the Hard Ons. I spoke to him over the phone from my small flat in Balmain. I'd seen the band a few times before, and always admired Blackie's unbridled creative spirit and uncompromising attitude toward the music business.

Nunchukka Superfly Interview - Drum Media (1999)

The dream becomes a reality, or something like that. It's taken two years for Nunchukka Superfly to get their act together. For Blackie and Ray, the past came back to haunt them. The Hard Ons are popular again. However, flying all over the world has not dampened their interest in breaking the sound barrier. Nunchukka Superfly is a three piece reconstructing sound with a brand of terror unique.

Blackie aka Peter Black formed Nunchukka Superfly out of the frustration that plagued his previous group, The Hard Ons. A twitching spontaneity and eagerness was creeping into his songwriting, and a method of attack for the Hard Ons - fast and furious garage punk/pop - had gradually worn thin.

He hankered for a sound he heard in his dreams and on the road that suggested a serious, thought-out approach towards songwriting that coalesces intuitively. Hard Ons bassist Ray Ahn joined his lifelong friend to crystallise his penchant for amplified, riff-based noise. Alongside Joel Ellis, a nervous drummer with a healthy appetite for Jazz replaced the original drummer some months ago. The band has delivered a stunning self-titled EP.

The fact the band's name came to Ray Ahn in a dream, "We did an outdoor festival and our drummer put down his sticks and went 'thanks very much. We're Nunchukka Superfly' is symbolic of a band and its songwriting ideas developing naturally.

"Just after finishing the Yummy album with the Hard Ons, I started getting into the Beatles White Album and rediscovering things like The Birthday Party and P.I.L." says Blackie, who is the chief songwriter of the band.

"One thing that I liked was that they used a lot of stream of consciousness. Like things that don't make sense, they didn't worry about. They just did it anyway. I started doing that as well. It was a real eye-opener."

A fair step away from the adolescent punk of the Hard Ons, and certainly not as odd as Blackie's other project, Chrackie, Nunchukka Superfly showcases Blackie's murderous side. Crunching riffs, lurching bass runs, and a brutal drum sound.

Impressive is their successful combination of controlled feedback, rhythmic agility, and band inter-communication. Ray and Joel play the perfect foil for Blackie's expansive pieces. He says there is room for improvisation.

"It's a pretty creative situation, which is awesome and obviously very important. Our songs have structures but within the structures there are certain elements that we can do what we want with them. Hopefully as we get further along and more comfortable with each other and start to get that telepathic sense we can expand on that."

The project illustrates Blackie's evolving songwriting and guitar playing. He possesses a deep-rooted sensibility to paint pictures through guitar sounds, while lyrically he's learning to trust his initial creative impulses.

Blackie really liked psychedelic music from a young age. "The British stuff like Pink Floyd, and the Chocolate Super Diabetic records, a lot of sixties English stuff, which was just out-there," he enthuses.

"When I first started all I could play was bar chords. I was never able to explore that myself but, now I'm playing a bit better."

The reason for this faith in cosmic sound is a philosophical one.

"It's a sound that I really like and it's just happening. I accept it. To me music is the purest form of magic."

[wiypt-writes]

Riding On

Ch5. Chilli Fries And Appletize

Summary: Fliss hormones are raging so Frank decides she need something a little special

Warnings: Bad Language words. SMUT (NSFW NO UNDER 18s!!)

Pairing: Frank Adler x Fliss Gallagher

A/N: FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF ALERT!!

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Riding On Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 4

Who can take you higher, than twin deep mountain blue, oh well I’ve built this thing for you, and I love you true…

 “Fuck!”

Frank heard Fliss’ shout from the living room where he was sprawled on the sofa. She’d gone to take a bath, Mary was at Roberta’s so the pair of them were simply taking a bit of time to relax after what had been a fairly draining week, both physically and mentally.

“Fliss?” he called back as Thor stood up from where he had been curled on the rug, Fred leaning against him using him as a pillow as the feline always seemed to do. He watched the dog pad to the door and then stood up following him down the hallway. He entered the bedroom and found Fliss was stood in a pale blue dress, tears in her eyes.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” He frowned.

“This fucking dress!” She practically exploded, her voice cracking. I only bought it a few weeks ago for Jake’s wedding and I just thought I’d try it on with my new shoes and it won’t do up at the back.”

Frank looked at her, feeling a pang of sympathy for his girl. She’d been really up and down in particular over the last two days with her hormones and she looked absolutely distraught, even if it was something so ridiculous as a dress that had set her off.

“Let me see.” he said, crossing the floor towards her. She turned and he gently reached for the zip, pulling the back of the dress together but it wasn’t going to fasten.

“See…” she sighed as he let go of the zip and rubbed the top of her arms. “I’m not even at the five month mark yet!” “You’re a week off.”

“And I feel huge! This is ridiculous!”

Frank slid his arms around her from behind, dropping a kiss to her shoulder. “Lissy, Bean has just sprouted all of a sudden that’s all. You got a proper bump now.” “I am aware of that, Frank.” She snapped.

Frank took a deep breath, not rising to her in the slightest. Instead his hands moved to either side of the offending swell in her abdomen and he turned her gently towards the full length mirror in the corner of the room.

“Look.” He said, fixing his eyes on hers in their reflection as his hand skated over her belly “You’re beautiful, and you’re cooking our baby in here…”

“That still doesn’t help that I have no dress!”

“Ok, well, let’s go shopping tomorrow. Mary’s at that party in the afternoon so we’ll drop her off, head into town and grab you something.”

Fliss paused as she looked at him in the mirror, her face slowly rearranging as she realised that actually the solution to the problem had been fairly simple all along.

“Sorry.” She mumbled. “I flipped again didn’t I?”

“Its fine.” Frank dropped a kiss to her cheek. “You didn’t throw a mug on the floor today so that’s an improvement.” “In my defence,” she turned to look at him, “you did ask me about five times if I was feeling ok in the space of ten minutes” “And clearly you weren’t as said mug is now in three pieces.” He shook his head and let out a long, dramatic sigh “You know I loved that mug too. It was a sad day.” Fliss snorted “You got it free from the Tack Store when we took Mary for her new hat.” “And it was a treasured memory. A reminder of how she stung me for another hundred bucks…” “Can’t put a price on safety Frankie.” She smiled and he chuckled.

“So, tomorrow afternoon then?” He asked and she nodded eagerly.

“Can we go to Tampa? The shopping is better there.”

“Sure.” And suddenly the bones of a plan began to form in his head. And it was a good plan…if he could pull it off… “Crisis averted?” he asked, looking down at her.

“Crisis averted” she nodded.

“Good.” he smiled, kissing her cheek before he turned to leave the room to allow her to change for bed.

“Frank?”

“Yeah?” He stopped to look at her.

“I really want fries.”

“McDonalds again?”

“No, I want Chilli Fries.” She said, her voice almost puzzled.

“Chilli fries?” He frowned “Really? That’s a new one.”

“I know.” She shrugged. “I just got a hankering, specifically for the ones we get from Tequila Mockingbird.”

Frank glanced at his watch “Sweetheart, it’s almost Eleven. The truck will have shut now, he only opens late on Saturday.”

“Oh, okay.” She said quietly, and he could see to his horror that her bottom lip was starting to wobble. Fuck, not another meltdown. Was this seriously how it was going to be for the next four damned months? Fucking hormones…

“Why don’t I nip to the store?” A sudden idea popped into Frank’s head. “I can whip up a batch of the dirty ones you showed me how to make?”

“Yeah, yeah that could work.” She nodded.

“Ok, well, I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He smiled, turning on his heels.

It worked out quite well actually, as he used the short drive to the store to put his plan into action. First off he messaged Jake who called him straight back.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“I need you to do me a favour.” Frank said, explaining his plan.

“Short notice pal.”

“Yeah but you owe me so pull some strings with the man you know.”

“I owe you?” Jake snorted “What for?”

“If you hadn’t been tagged on those damned photos no one would have seen them and I wouldn’t have been couched for a night nor would I be suffering with blue balls.” Frank said simply, turning right across a junction.

Jake snorted “Leave it with me Frankie boy…I’ll see what I can do.”

Satisfied he cut the call and once he arrived at the store he shot Verity a quick message asking her if she would mind helping him out as well. He felt a little guilty, as they’d only gotten back from Italy that morning but she replied almost instantly telling him that she thought it was a great idea and her and Bill would be happy to do what he needed them to do.

Smiling he put his phone back in his pocket, and headed to the frozen food aisle at the back of the 24 hour mini-mart. He stood there, unable to decide what fries to buy so in the end he grabbed a bag of every available frozen ones there were- thick cut, curly, southern fried and thin, along with a tin of ready-made chilli (yes, disgusting but on dirty fries it was the only thing Fliss told him worked) and a block of cheddar cheese. As he walked towards the till he stopped, grinning as he spotted they had the big bottles of Appletize too, so he shoved 4 in his basket and headed to the counter.

The woman at the counter looked at him as he began unloading and Frank realised that it was a pretty odd combination.

“You either got the munchies or your girl is pregnant.” She quipped and Frank laughed.

“It’s the latter.” He smiled, and the woman grinned at him as she scanned the items through the till.

Once he had paid he headed home to find Fliss was led on the sofa with a toasting waffle in one hand and a glass of apple juice in her other.

“Couldn’t wait huh?” He asked as he walked through to the kitchen.

“I know.” She looked at him over the back of the couch. “I had an apple and a waffle and I feel okay now.”

Frank stopped dead and turned to face her, the paper grocery bags clutched to his chest. “Seriously? You don’t want the fries?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Not anymore.”

Frank took a deep breath, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek in frustration as he walked into the kitchen, depositing the bags on the side.

“The kid ain’t even born yet and it’s already a pain in my ass…”

“I can hear you grumbling from here.” Fliss called back.

“Good.” He retorted as he shoved the bottles of drink in the fridge and crammed the four bags of frozen fries into the freezer. Grabbing a beer he walked back into living room and dropped heavily onto couch next to her.

“Don’t be so grouchy.” She teased, listing her feet into his lap. He shot her a glare and she dropped her hand to her belly. “Bean is sorry.” She flashed him her best puppy dog eyes, those fucking eyes that could get him to do whatever she wanted.

“Don’t pull that one.” He narrowed his own eyes at her and she cocked her head to one side.

“I’ll make it up to you.”

“How?” He asked as she looked at him, smirking.

“Bow job?”

Frank snorted, shifting slightly in his seat as that had really got his attention. But, not wanting to give himself away too much he simply arched an eyebrow at her. “You think you can win me over like that?”

“Sailor, I know I can.”

“I’m not that cheap.”

“No, but I know for a fact you haven’t had any since the night before you went to Vegas.” she grinned “What was it you said in New York after a mere three days? Frankie has needs.”

Okay, so she’d got him well and truly. Like he had said to Jake before, he really was feeling frustrated, but he hadn’t pushed anything on her at all since he’d come back from Vegas, deciding to let her make the decision as to when she wanted to get physically intimate with him again. As he looked at her she simply smiled and drained her glass of juice before setting it on the table.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Frank shook his head. “Was just trying to figure out if you were being serious or not.” She held his gaze for a moment before she looked back at the TV, teasing over. With a deep breath Frank shifted a little, getting himself comfortable, trying to push the dirty thoughts from his mind as he concentrated on the episode of ‘911’ which was playing. His hands gently began to massage at her feet, thumb gently pressing into the arch of one and Fliss gave a soft sigh of satisfaction as he continued, before she sat up and looked at him.

“Did you get any curly fries?” She bit her lip.

“Are you for fucking real?” He looked at her, blinking.

“Don’t blame me…”

“Yeah, yeah blame Bean.” He shook his head “I swear to God by the time you’ve actually given birth to the little crotch goblin I’ll have aged about twenty years…”

“Crotch goblin?” She scoffed, “I’ll remind you, pal, you put it there!”

“Not on purpose!” He looked at her.

“Are you calling our baby a mistake?” Fliss narrowed her eyes at him, mock horror on her face

“Mistake, no, that’s a little harsh.” Frank shook his head “Accident, most definitely.”

“Bastard.” Fliss grabbed a cushion from behind her and hit him with it as he laughed, grabbing it out of her hands.

“Our little Boston Bean is a very pleasant and welcome surprise.” Frank smiled, shifting her legs out of his lap. Grinning he leaned over her, caging her on the sofa with his arms “Although right now, as I’m about to start cooking dirty fries at fifteem to midnight, I’m debating the use of the pronoun pleasant.”

Fliss chuckled as he leaned over to give her a soft kiss. Instantly she felt a little flutter again and her hand dropped to her bump.

“Bean’s moving again.”

Frank smiled and shifted a little so he could press his hand to her side, but after a moment or so shook his head, feeling ever so slightly deflated.

“I can’t feel anything.”

“You will do soon enough.”

“Can’t wait.” Frank kissed her again and stood up, heading to the kitchen.

Fliss watched him go, before she turned back to the TV, but she wasn’t paying attention, she was too busy thinking to herself how quickly Frank had headed out to get her what she wanted before, even if she had then changed her mind, and then reverted it back to its original state. She hated comparing the two of them, and tried not to do it, but as she sat there she couldn’t help it. Frank was as far from John as could possibly be. Her ex-husband wouldn’t have ever done anything like that for her, whether she as carrying his kid or not. But Frank hadn’t even hesitated. And now he was actually about to cook it too. She wasn’t sure John had even known how to turn the damned oven on. When she’d met Frank, his cooking skills were also limited but he had wanted to learn. He helped her cook, listened and managed pretty much once she’d made something with him, to make a fairly decent version of it on his own. And he did this simply because he wanted to. He had openly admitted that he didn’t like the fact she felt like she had to cook every day, despite her protests she didn’t mind, and specifically on the evenings she got home a little later than normal, he wanted to be able to have something ready.

As she sat there, those thoughts whirring in her head, she felt a surge of affection for her Sailor. Since their talk on Monday, she’d let Frank back into their bed but there’d been no intimacy, although she’d let him cuddle her, she’d kissed him back, she hadn’t been unaffectionate per se, but in all honesty she hadn’t been in the mood for anything else, which was probably something down to hormones as well as her still being a little angry at him, but now…well, she’d seen it in his eyes before when she’d been teasing him, he was frustrated as hell.  And if she was honest, she now found herself in the mood for giving him a little spontaneous pleasure…

With a smirk she stood up and walked into the kitchen, her arms snaking around his waist as she pressed herself to his back (well as much as she could thanks to the football she had in her stomach) and pressed a soft kiss to his back, just beneath his shoulder blades.

“You okay?” He asked, his voice vibrating through his back into her chest and she nodded as her hands rubbed at his stomach under his T-shirt. She felt him tense a little, and grinning to herself, she gently moved her hands upwards to rake down the line of hair that led from his chest all the way down his belly. She knew what that did to him and right on cue, Frank gave a grunt, jolting a little and her hand continued to move downwards, palming at his crotch through his sweats.

“Lissy.” His voice caught in his throat as she continued, her hand working him up over his clothing. “What I said before, you don’t need to-“ “I know, but I want to.” She stood on her tiptoes to whisper into his ear. He tilted his head downwards slightly, allowing her to nip at his jawline and as he spun round to face her, she pulled his head down to hers giving him a slow kiss, her tongue sliding against his before she leaned back, his bottom lip between her teeth.

By the time his brain had caught up with what was going on, Fliss had gotten to her knees and flipped the waist band of the sweats he was wearing down, taking his erection firmly in one hand, making him hiss slightly. She stroked him to full hardness, which didn’t take that long at all, before she looked up and locked eyes with him, giving him one final smirk before she took him in her mouth.

“God, Baby.” Frank groaned, his left hand gripped the edge of the kitchen counter, her eyes still locked on his. His right hand gently dropped to the back of her head, tangling in her long hair as her head bobbed back and forth. It was bliss, her mouth was warm, lips soft, but her tongue…God she knew just how to work him with that thing and as he felt it wrap around the base of his cock he gave a grunt, his hips bucking forward slightly. At that, Fliss pulled off of him to suck at the swollen tip of his dick and worked her hands over the rest of his length which sent shivers up his spine. Groaning, his head dropped back slightly, as she continued to lick, suck before she took him in, this time all the way, her cheeks hollowing and one of her hands reaching round from the back of his thigh to gently squeeze at his balls.

“Fucking hell!.” He hissed, his hand tightening in her hair and once more he looked at her. Her eyes locked back onto his and he felt that tell-tale warmth pooling in his groin and stomach.

"Lissy, sweetheart, shit." His voice was raspy from desire and pleasure and at the mere sound of how turned on his was Fliss felt the wetness beginning to pool in between her legs. He continued to babble curse words and her name, before he gasped again, letting out a loud moan. “Fuck, honey, "I'm gonna-" his words caught in his mouth as Fliss took him all the way to the back of her throat. At that, he was gone, his fingers gripped her hair tight the other clutched at the kitchen side, noises that sounded alien even to him tumbling from his mouth as he spilled himself down her throat and slumped back completely blissed out against the kitchen side.

Fliss grinned, her hands gently running up the outside of his thighs as she stood up, pulling his boxers and sweats with her, pressing herself to his chest. With a soft hum of contentment, he opened his eyes and looked down at her.

“Good?” She asked, but the look in her eyes told him she knew exactly what the answer was. Still, he gave it her anyway. “Damned right it was.” He grinned, leaning down and kissing her, his hands holding her face in position. She let out a soft moan into his mouth and he pulled back slightly, arching an eyebrow.

“You all worked up baby girl?”

“Don’t suppose you fancy helping me out…” She whispered, and Frank grinned.

“We got fifteen minutes till the fries cook so…” He smirked as he gently spun her round so her back was clutched to his chest.  Fliss grinned to herself as his lips gently brushed on her neck, his beard scratching at her skin as he nipped his way down to her shoulder, his hand splaying over her bump before it worked beneath the waistband of her pyjama shorts. Her breath caught in her throat as his fingers skated her entrance.

“You are worked up.” he muttered, his fingers sliding through her slick, as her head fell back against his shoulder and she bit her lip.

“I told you…” she muttered as his fingers slipped further into her folds, finding that little bundle of nerves. His other hand slipped up her vest top and ran up her side to her breasts, which he knew would be tender, but the plus side to that was that they were goddamned sensitive, so heightened to his touch and it got her off like nothing he’d ever seen before. True to form, she let out a soft squeak as he rolled a nipple gently between his thumb and forefinger. Sliding his fingers inside her he curled them against the fleshy spot on her walls, both his hands working in synch, a coordinated attack on her senses and within minutes she was putty in his hands.

“Frankie…I’m…fuck!” she cursed, her head falling back further as her knees began to shake.

“I got you.” He said softly, his mouth caressing her neck again “Go on baby, give it to me.” With a desperate groan she shuddered, her hand wrapping around his wrists as he felt her pulsing and squeezing around his fingers as she came, the trembles wracking her entire body. Frank held her steady until she took a deep breath, giving a soft sigh as she leaning back into him. She tilted her head round to look at him, a smile on her face, her cheeks tinged with pink underneath those gorgeous freckles and he smiled at her, giving her a soft kiss. Setting her clothes right for her, his hands skated over her bump once more and he kissed her shoulder.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yep.” she nodded, popping the P as she turned to face him, leaning up to kiss the underneath of his jaw. He looked down at her, before a wicked smirk crossed his face and he popped his two fingers in his mouth, sucking her taste off him.

“Francis!” She scoffed, slapping him round the back of the head and he let out a loud laugh.

“You don’t complain about me tasting you when I’m down there…” “You’re so vulgar!” she snorted.

“Says the woman who just blew me in the kitchen.” She cocked her head to one side, shrugging slightly “Touché….”

He smiled again before she turned to the fridge “Want another beer?”

“Sure, thanks.” he said.

She pulled open the fridge door and let out a little shriek of delight “Where did you get that?” she asked, her eyes widening as she pulled out a bottle of Appletize. “I couldn’t find any in the supermarket!”

“The Mini-Mart before.” he said, “Woman thought I was high when I bought 4 bags of fries and 4 big bottles of that”

“My hero!” she grinned

Frank grinned “if fetching you fries and Appetize means you get on your knees for me then hell, I’ll go every fucking night.”

“Don’t get used to it Sailor.” she looked at him, “Soon I'll be too big to kneel down.”

Frank chuckled, “Why don’t you go wait in the lounge?”

"I'm good.” Fliss shrugged “I'll help."

The two of them stood in the kitchen making their food. Frank warmed the chili through as Fliss grated the entire block of cheese and when Frank challenged her as to why exactly they needed that for 2 of them she simply replied “3 of us Frankie…” whilst patting her bump. Soon they were sat on the sofa, Fliss cross legged with a plate on her lap as she devoured her snack. Frank watched her as she eagerly ate, eyes fixed on the latest episode of Rick And Morty, every so often she would chuckle at something on the screen. Frank smiled to himself, it had felt like a long 5 days since Monday, but they seemed to be on an even keel. She was joking and laughing with him, had been reasonably affectionate and to be fair her affections certainly had upped a notch when she just sucked him off in the kitchen. Granted, all things considered, he’d rather have carried her to bed, taken his time over her, loved on her a little but…well, he certainly wasn’t complaining. It seemed like she’d finally decided he was completely out of the dog house, which suited him absolutely fine.

Fliss let out a happy sigh and placed her now empty plate on the coffee table on top of the one Frank had discarded a few minutes ago. She stretched out her limbs before she shifted and snuggled into Frank’s side.

"Love you." She said, her hand rubbing his tummy softly under his t-shirt. "So does Bean"

Her touch and words made him feel all warm inside. Not horny warm, just fuzzy warm. Smiling he dropped a kiss to her head “Love you too, both of you.”

****** “What do you think?” Fliss asked, giving him a twirl. Frank smiled, nodding approvingly. With the help of the assistant in the little independent Mother and Baby boutique shop they’d stumbled across, aptly called “Bump In The Road” she’d chosen a maxi dress with a pastel rainbow tulle style skirt. The top half was baby pink with spaghetti straps which hung on her toned shoulders and It had a V-neckline which plunged to the high waistband where it cinched in and then flared over her bump. It hung loosely and comfortably over her lower body whilst still being sexy enough on the top half, accentuating her cleavage.

“You look beautiful.” He said honestly and she flushed a little, twirling in the mirror.

“Do you think the colour is ok or should I go for the yellow one? I mean is it too much boob? The yellow is a halter neck so you don’t see any-” “Lissy!” He shook his head, chuckling “It looks fine, more than fine. I like it.” “It’s also elasticated at the back.” The assistant spoke. “So your worry about bump growing more over the next week won’t cause an issue. You’ll get a few months I expect out of this.” Fliss hummed, looked at her reflection again before she smiled “OK, yeah, great…I’ll take it.”

The assistant smiled and Fliss turned back to head into the changing cubicle. Once she was out of ear shot Frank looked at the woman.

“Can we take the yellow one too?” he asked, “Just ring it through before she comes back, I want it to be a surprise.”

The assistant nodded and smiled “Sure, I’ll get it ready and bagged now so she doesn’t see it.”

“Thanks.”

He headed to the till, producing his card and shortly after Fliss joined him and he let out a chuckle when he saw she’d also picked up another little baby-grow on the way. This one was white and bore an apple on the front, with the words “apple of our eye” arched over the top.

“I thought it was kinda fitting.” she grinned and Frank had to agree considering her craving. He handed it to the assistant who was smart enough not to announce the total to him, given the additional purchase as he handed his card over. Fliss pouted at him but one look and she stopped the fuss she was about to make over the fact he had paid. They’d already had that discussion on the way over, Frank insisting that he wanted to buy her the dress considering it was “his fault” as she had put it that she was in this position in the first place.

He took the bag from the assistant and thanking her once more they headed out and back down the street. Frank stole a glance at his watch, it was just after 3. He could do with killing another hour or so before he put into play his surprise plan so he suggested they grab a drink and an ice cream at the little parlour on the corner. Fliss eagerly agreed so that killed another 40 minutes as they sat and joked over a sundae each, before they headed back to the truck taking the long way round, checking out a few other shops as they went, Fliss suggesting the grabbed Mary a few new pieces of clothing as she was growing again. Picking a few t-shirts and a pair of shorts they knew she would like they then headed back to the car and Frank checked his phone, memorising the directions. They weren’t far away.

When he didn’t take the turn for the freeway, Fliss looked at him. “You missed the turn off.” “No I didn’t.”

“Yeah, you did, it was back there.”

“We’re not going home.” Frank replied simply and at that she frowned.

“Where are we going then?”

“You’ll see.”

Refusing to give her anything else, despite her questioning, he kept driving until he hit the coastal road and continued along the bay and their destination appeared in front of them. Hanging a right, he drove his truck down the little winding road which opened up into a circle drive way flanked by palm trees and bright flowerbeds just outside the reception of the Grand Hyatt.

“Frank.” Fliss looked at him, her eyes shining. “We’re staying for the night?”

“Yup.” He nodded turning to face her. “I packed us a bag this morning whilst you were at the yard, Mary’s staying with your parents as is Thor and I suspect Fred and we have a dinner reservation for dinner at the Oyster Catcher, which is on the bay at the back.”

“I don’t…how did you manage to pull this off at such short notice?”

“Jake.” Frank said simply “Come on.”

He hopped out of his truck and smiled to the bus boy who had approached him and nodded for them to collect their bags out of the boot. “Including the large paper one.” he said discreetly and he nodded before he turned to collect the slip of paper from the valet. He took Fliss’ hand and led her into the huge reception area to the hotel, the floor a gorgeous white marble as they walked over to the desk and he smiled at the woman who looked at him.

“Good afternoon Sir, Ma’am.” she smiled, and Fliss suddenly felt a little self-conscious. Everyone was milling around in various states of what she would term upper-class smart casual, in blazers and open necked dress shirts with jeans that probably cost more than her fucking jeep. Frank, however, in contrast didn’t give a shit. He wasn’t here to impress or blend in.

“Reservation for Adler.” he said smiling at the receptionist who tapped at a keyboard and nodded.

“Yes Mr Adler, you’re here for one night and have an executive double.” she scanned the booking “The room rate is already settled, but I can set up-…” “I’m sorry, did you say the room rate was covered?” Frank frowned. “Yes, Sir.” She nodded, “It’s already been paid.” “Take it that wasn’t expected.” Fliss looked at him and he shook his head, smiling.

“No, no it wasn’t. I’ll thank Jake later.” He smiled, before he turned to the lady at the desk “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“No problem. I was just saying if you want to give me your card I can set up a tab so you can charge items to your room…” “Sure.” He nodded, fishing for his wallet before handing her the small square of plastic. As she took a scan of it he turned to Fliss and dropped a kiss to her temple as she smiled, her arm looping around her waist.

“Is this where we’re staying for Jake’s wedding?” She asked and he nodded.

“Thought we could give it a test run beforehand.” He looked at her “You are okay we’re staying, right?” “Of course.” She smiled “It’s really sweet of you.” “Well, I try.” He winked before he turned back to the brunette behind the desk who asked him for his signature in a few places before she handed him the key.

“Ok so you’re on the 5th floor.” she said nodding, “Room 512. Take the elevator up, go right once you reach your floor and you’ll see it on the left. I’ll have your bags brought up for you Mr Adler.”

Frank thanked her and they both headed off following the directions. Frank led Fliss out of the elevator an down to the room over to it and picked up the note attached to it.

“This one’s on me pal, well, my Loyalty Scheme Free Stay points anyway. Sorry about the balls.” She read as she turned to him and Frank rubbed at his neck. “I’m not even gonna ask what that means.” “Yeah, probably best.” He grinned, and then there was a knock at the door. Frank opened it and in walked the concierge with their luggage, setting it down for them before Frank thanked him, slipped him a ten and he headed out.

Fliss looked at the overnight bag and then frowned. “What did you bring me to wear to dinner?” “Nothing” Frank said, before he grinned and picked up the bag from the boutique. “But I got you something before.” “That’s for the wedding.” She looked at him, “Although I could wear it twice. Not like anyone is here tonight to see it.” “Check in the bottom.” He instructed. She frowned a little, before she took the bag and set it down on the small table, before she let out a gasp as she pulled out the lemon yellow dress she’d tried on before.

“You bought me both of them?”

He nodded.

“Frankie, you didn’t have to do that. You didn’t have to do any of this.” She whispered, her eyes misting over.

“I know but I wanted to.” He stepped forwards his hands dropping to her hips. “I figured it would be nice for us to have some time together, just the two…well…three,” he grinned, nodding to her bump, “of us.” “Thank you.” She looked up at him as he dropped a kiss to her lips.

Once they’d unpacked their overnight thing, Fliss headed for a shower and emerged a little while later in a robe and Frank walked back in from where he’d been on the balcony with a beer, having fired a thank you message to Jake. He smiled at Fliss and headed to shower himself, coming back about five minutes later also wrapped in a robe. They sat out together on the balcony talking for a little while as Fliss pretty much drank the entire bottle of juice before she announced she was going to get ready.

“You look gorgeous.” Frank said as she stood in front of him, wearing her dress. Her hair was pulled back into a bun and her make-up was light, despite the fact that Frank had shoved pretty much every item in her vanity case into their bag not knowing what she would want and wouldn’t want.

“You look pretty dapper too, Sailor” she smiled, taking in his black button down and smart jeans. Dropping a kiss to her cheek he gestured to the door and they both left the room and made their way to the restaurant which was located through the back of the hotel. They were led through to the outside patio which had a spectacular panoramic view of Old Tampa Bay. Fliss ordered herself a mock-tail, whilst Frank asked for a beer, grinning when the waiter told them they had Stella on tap.  Fliss busied herself with the menu, and Frank took a moment to watch her. She really was glowing. He’d thought that was such a shit cliché about pregnant women, but at that point in time he couldn’t think of any other way to describe her. Her face was slightly fuller now, but with it she carried a soft look, which just complimented her personality anymore. The changes her entire body was going through reminded him daily she was carrying his baby, and each day he woke up and was convinced he was slightly more in love with her than he had been when he’d fallen asleep, even though he knew that wasn’t actually possible.

“The mahi-mahi looks really good.” Fliss mused as she looked at the menu. “As does the lobster but not sure I can eat that.” “Well, actually…” Frank leaned forward and pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. “I knew this was a seafood restaurant so Mary did her usual google and found this.”

He handed it to her and waited for her reaction. As she scanned the list of seafood that she could eat she shook her head and let out a little moan.

“So all this time I could have been eating prawns?!”

Frank shrugged “According to that.”

“Damned it!” She cursed “I’m going to kill my mum.” “Well I don’t doubt guidelines have changed a little over the years” 

Before she could reply the waiter came back to take them to their table which was on the large veranda at bay level. He left them alone for another ten minutes before returning for their order. Frank raised his eyebrow as Fliss ordered the fishcakes to start and then the Lobster tail for main, not that he cared how much it cost, he wasn’t worrying about that tonight. With that in mind he went for the same starter but then the surf-and-turf option, with a fillet steak.

“I can’t remember the last time we did this.” Fliss said, reaching out over the table, her hand tangling in his. “Just had a meal out, the two of us.”

“Me neither.” He mused. “It was before Christmas I know that much.”

“Probably before Boston actually.”

“We should do it more often” He smiled, his thumb skating over her engagement ring.“I like spending time with you like this.”

“Me too. And don’t worry Sailor. Once Bean is here you’re taking me out for an evening of fine dining where I’m gonna eat my bodyweight in blue cheese and drink a swimming pool full of wine…or champagne…or maybe both.” He chuckled and nodded “Whatever you want honey.”

Their conversation turned to their house hunting, both agreeing that they really needed to step it up a notch. They hadn’t even made an appointment with a bank yet to find out what they biggest budget they had was, so that was first on the agenda, Frank saying he would call to make an apartment on Monday. And then when their starters arrived they switched to the biggest question of all at the moment, whether they were going to find out if Bean was pink or blue.

“I think I wanna know.” Fliss said, swallowing the last of her starter, giving Frank a smile

Frank looked at her, his head cocking to one side. “You wanna find out?”

Fliss smiled shyly and paused as the waiter came along to remove their now empty plates before she continued once he had left.  “I wasn’t sure…but…yeah, I think I am now. It struck me before in that shop, that once we know how much easier it will be, buying blue or pink stuff instead of yellows or greys.”

“I dunno, I quite like the yellow item we bought.” He quipped, taking a mouthful of his beer as he nodded to her dress. She grinned.

“You know full well what I mean.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, I do.” He leaned forward a little, both arms resting on the table as he looked at her, “Ok, so that’s decided then…we find out?”

She nodded, holding his gaze for a moment and he blinked, a soft mile spreading across his face. “I can’t wait.” he admitted to her, almost bashfully and she smiled back.

“Me neither…” she whispered.

*****

“Frankie, that was such wonderful evening.” Fliss turned to look at him as she kicked off her sandals whilst he locked the hotel room door behind them. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Sweetheart.” He said gently, pulling her to him as his hands wrapped around her back.

“It was really thoughtful” She whispered, as her hands slid up his chest. “You didn’t have to do it though you know, I mean as an apology, I’m not-“ “No no, it wasn’t that.” He shook his head, “I just wanted some time with you, that’s all. I do have my sentimental moments when I’m not being a complete jack ass.” he quipped and she looked at him, her face soft.

“You’re my jack ass.” She smiled as her arms looped around his neck.

“Always.” He returned her smile as he leaned down to kiss her.

“Can you help me out of this dress?” She whispered into his mouth, and fuck, he didn’t need asking twice.

Frank reached round to the zipper at the back and gently slid it down as Fliss moved back, allowing the lemon coloured fabric to pool at her feet. He followed the line of her body upwards, over her thighs, that neat little bump, up past her hips, her breasts before he finally met her eyes again. He looked at her for a second before his lips crashed to hers, noses bumping slightly as he flicked his tongue teasingly into her mouth, his hands cupping her face as hers fisted in the back of his shirt.

In a quick movement, Frank reached down and hooked his hands round the back of her thighs, easily picking her up, bump and all. She giggled, wrapping her legs round his waist, her nose brushing against his as he carried her over to the bed, setting her down gently on it.  He shucked off his own shoes as he reached behind his head and grabbed a fist full of his shirt, yanking it over his head without even bothering with the buttons, before he dropped down on the bed, settling his hips in between her legs in the space she made for him as she ran her hands through his hair. He smiled softly at her before he pressed his lips back to hers, kissing her deeply, his large hands keeping him propped above her so as not to put any of his weight against that precious cargo she was carrying.

She pushed on his chest, sitting up slightly as she reached behind her to undo her bran and Frank leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on each shoulder as he slid the straps down over her arms, removing it completely. As she lay back against the bed, Frank shifted so he was led on his side by her, his mouth hungrily covering hers as his hand trailed up the outside of her thigh, to her hip, up the side of her body and then onto her breasts teasing gently. She groaned, rolling her head back on the pillow at the sensation, her hips bucking upwards as he shifted, hovering over her. He buried his face in the side of her neck working at the pulse spot, the little noises of pleasure she was making were music in his ear. Her hips began to move, rolling against nothing, groans falling from her lips at the sensation as he nipped slightly at her neck and then moved his mouth to her chest, taking her right nipple in. Her groans were growing louder now and Frank couldn’t take it anymore. He wanted to be in her, surrounded by her, feel her. Moving back to shed the rest of his clothes, he stood up, undoing his jeans and kicking them off, all the time his eyes on Fliss’ as she watched him, her gaze travelling down his body to where his cock now stood angry and red against his abs. He leaned down, hooking his fingers in the lace of Fliss’ panties, pulling them down over her legs before he settled on the bed once more, Fliss moving so she could straddle him. As she did so, his hands tangled in her hair, pulling her face down to kiss him as she reached down between them, taking him in her hand. He groaned but didn’t release her mouth as she adjusted position to take him in, slowly sliding down onto him. A filthy moan flew from her mouth which he swallowed with his kiss as she stayed pressed against him, and she began to move, rolling her hips forward. She was quick to find a rhythm and her mouth fell open against his lips and she let out a shaky moan before sitting up fully.

The sight of her on top, illuminated by soft light streaming in through the slight gap in the curtains was almost enough to tip him right over there and then. He wanted to touch her, so he did, bringing her hands up to run them up her sides until his hands cupped her breasts, thumbs running over her nipples as she let out another moan. As she picked up the pace his hands went to her hips, pulling her down onto him harder, thrusting upwards to meet her for every move she made. She continued to move, quickening, her eyes never leaving his.

“Frankie…”she groaned, as he tilted his hips up harder and he let out a groan himself, increasingly determined to get her there again before he lost it. As he felt the coil in his own belly tightening, his hand moved from her hip to stroke at that spot between her legs and that did it. He felt her tense up and tighten around him, crying out loudly and unbridled as she shook. The sight of her coming undone on top of him, her cheeks flushed, lips pink, mouth open in a now silent scream, would always be the single most exquisite thing Frank had ever seen, no matter how many times he got to see it. All of that, coupled with the force of her heat tightening even, more made him lose himself. 

“Fuck, Lissy…” the curse fell from his lips as he thrust upwards, before he spilled himself inside her again, the wave of pleasure washing over him as the world fell silent and he could hear nothing but ringing in his ears. Fliss collapsed forward onto his chest, her tremors subsided, both of them panting as they came back down, turning back into the world. Frank held her close, his fingers running up and down her spine as she let out a soft “hum” of contentment and he sat up, wanting to see her face to face. Still cradling her close he pushed the hair that had fallen over her face back behind her ears and she reached up, running her hands through his, causing him to close his eyes at the sensation of her nails on his scalp.

“God, I love you.” he whispered, pulled her closer, his nose rubbing up against hers.

"I love you too.”

Frank moved so that she could roll off him and to the side, before he pulled the covers back, allowing them both to shuffle under before he turned off the lamp at the side of the bed. Fliss moved so that her head lay on his chest, her arm resting over his stomach and he placed a soft kiss to the side of her temple, his hand moving to softly card through her hair. For the first time in a week, Frank felt like things were completely back to where they should be.

***** They had a lazy morning in the hotel, making the most of the breakfast before they headed back to collect Mary. The drive home was relaxed, the pair of them singing along to whatever came on Frank’s Spotify play-list, Fliss snorting with laughter when the Spice Girls Wannabe hit her ears.

“Hey, it’s a classic.” Frank defended himself as she looked at him, shaking her head.

“Sure it is.” She laughed, cranking the volume up.

When they reached Verity and Bills, Thor came bounding up the drive to greet the truck, running after it and almost sending Fliss flying as he barrelled into her legs. Frank caught her, steadying her as he shot the dog an exasperated look. Whilst he wasn’t growling at Frank anymore, the dog was ridiculously clingy to Fliss, more so than usual and had clearly been unhappy at being away from her. They headed round to the pool area, where Mary was busy wrestling with Steve in the pool, swinging on his arm, trying to pull him under the water. She hardly spared them a second glance as they greeted her, until Verity called her out for a drink and a slice of lemon cake.

“Sit down, sit down!” she ushered Fliss and Frank to the outside table on the decking, where Frank moved a chair back for Fliss, dropping a kiss to her shoulder. Steve and Mary padded over later, Mary wrapped herself in a towel whilst Steve moved over to give Fliss a hug, causing her to squeal as he was wet. Mary hopped onto Frank’s knee and gave his cheek a peck.

Bill appeared a little while later, smiling at them all as he took a seat at the table, an envelope in his hands. He paid it no attention though, simply setting it on the table. They talked for a little while, Fliss telling them all about their hotel and meal before the conversation turned to chatter of house hunting, at which point Verity and Bill shared a glance and Bill cleared his throat

“We wanted to talk to you about that.” Bill said, looking at Fliss.

“Okay.” Fliss frowned, glancing at Frank where he sat to her right. She turned back to her parents. “Is something wrong?”

“No, quite the opposite.” Verity smiled as she glanced at Bill. Both of them looked at Steve then who smiled as Mary looked around.

“Is this one of those adult conversations?” she rolled her eyes and Frank nudged her slightly. Bill chuckled.

“It is kiddo, but you can stay.” he said, before he took a deep breath and leaned forward a little “Ok, so you know I handed the business down to Steve when we left England.” “Yeah…” Fliss looked at him.

“Well, when I did that it was valued at just over 2 million pounds” he said and Frank felt his eyebrows shoot up into his head. He knew that Bill and Verity were affluent, but he hadn’t appreciated just how much.

“I know all this.” Fliss frowned. “I’m not following…” “Well, the deal was that I took a million out of the pot straight away, for me and your mum to retire on.” Bill said, “That didn’t leave a great deal of cash left in the accounts,  just enough to keep the cash-flow straight, the rest was tied up in the assets. But the other part of the deal was that whilst I was giving it to Steve, half of it was yours…and as soon as he was able to…he had to give you your share of the remaining value.” Fliss felt her mouth drop open as she wheeled around to look at Frank. “What…I…” “I never told you any of this, because I didn’t want that bastard getting wind of it.” Bill shook his head. “And obviously, we gave you what we could to set up your business and everything when you moved here…but…” “Basically, Titch, the last year or so the profits have sky rocketed.” Steve said. “And…as a result.”

Bill slid the envelope he had brought towards Fliss and she reached out for it with a shaky hand. Opening it gently, she pulled out a cheque and glanced down at the amount. Just short of four hundred and fifty thousand dollars.

“Fuck me.” she mumbled, as she handed the paper to Frank who took a deep breath, gulping as he saw the amount.

“Holy shit…” Mary mumbled as she too read it, but no one payed her the slightest bit of attention, as Fliss broke the stunned silence that had fallen over her and Frank.

“Dad, Mum, I…” she looked up at him, tears in her eyes, “I can’t…” “So, you don’t need to fanny around with a mortgage or a bank loan when you find a house.” Bill smiled at her. “You’ve got enough to buy outright.”

“Bill, Verity, this…this is too much.” Frank looked at them both in turn, the tears stinging his eyes.

“Nonsense.” Verity scoffed “It’s Fliss’ inheritance.”

“I’ll sign a pre-nup.” He stuttered suddenly, “Anything, I…”

Fliss frowned as did Bill, and she turned her eyes to him “Why would I want you to do that?”

“That’s your money.” He protested. “Yeah, and I’m sharing my life with you. Hell, I’m having your baby Frank.” She said gently “I don’t need a pre-nup. You intending on leaving me?” “No of course not.” “Well then.” She shrugged, simply, as if that settled the matter. And in her eyes it did.

“You’ll also still retain your shares.” Steve said gently, “Which means you’ll get the dividends each year and if things keep going the way they are, you might want to consider buying a few more sharpish. They’ll be worth a lot if we land this contract.”

Fliss nodded, taking the information in before she stood up and headed over to her dad who rose from his chair.

“Thank you…thank you so much.” she said, her tears falling as he pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her back.

“You’re my little girl.” Bill said, his voice choked “I’ll always see you right, you know this.”

She stepped back and turned to her mum as Frank shook Bill’s hand before the man pulled him into a hug.

“Just look after her.” he whispered in Frank’s ear. “I know I don’t need to say it but…”

“You have my word.” Frank pulled back and looked his future father-in-law in the eyes. “I’ll die before I let anything happen to her.”

“Does this mean we can get a house with a pool?” Mary piped up, from where she was now situated in Steve’s arms.

Frank looked at Fliss before they both grinned and he turned to her.

“Not sure.” he said “Don’t want you getting all spoilt now do we?”

“Fine…” she shrugged “I’ll just move in here. That’s ok isn’t it?”

“Of course.” Verity grinned “Although you do know if you do, its bed at 8 every night, no treats before dinner, no…” “Who are you trying to kid?” Mary scoffed “Frank says you’re both a pair of right soft touches.”

Frank groaned as the room erupted into laughter and he shook his head at Mary who stuck her tongue out at him.

“You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?”

Mary simply shrugged and Fliss slid her arms round Frank’s waist and he pressed a kiss to her temple.

“So, house hunting starts tomorrow?” he asked, and she grinned nodding.

“You bet Sailor…”

“Ohhh we could buy a boat!” Mary said suddenly, and Frank paused.

“Actually, that would be kinda cool…”

“Yeah, I’ll buy you a remote control one to play with in the pool” Fliss grinned and Bill laughed as Mary let out a loud yell.

“See, Fliss want’s a pool…”

“Mary, for god’s sake…”

“Ok…Bean wants a pool” Mary grinned and everyone in the room let out a loud laugh, as Fliss looked up at Frank who simply snorted and shook his head.

**** Chapter 6

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Riding On  Ch 5: Chilli Fries and Appletize

Summary: Fliss hormones are raging so Frank decides she need something a little special

Warnings: Bad Language words. SMUT (NSFW NO UNDER 18s!!)

Pairing: Frank Adler x Fliss Gallagher

A/N: FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF ALERT!! And PLEASE give the song a listen, this is one of my all time faves from one of the best ever band to come out of Manchester! Thank you to @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​ for her brilliant little spark of an idea in here (you know which part Ambi!) and as always @icanfeelastormbrewing​ for being my unofficial Beta! Chapter Song: Ten Storey Love Song by The Stone Roses

Series Masterlist //  WIYPT Masterlist

Ten Storey love song, I built this thing for you. Who can take you higher, than twin deep mountain blue, oh well I’ve built this thing for you, and I love you true…

“Fuck!”

Frank heard Fliss’ shout from the living room where he was sprawled on the sofa. She’d gone to take a bath, Mary was at Roberta’s so the pair of them were simply taking a bit of time to relax after what had been a fairly busy week, both physically and mentally.

“Fliss?” he called back as Thor stood up from where he had been curled on the rug, Fred leaning against him using him as a pillow as the feline always seemed to do. He watched the dog pad to the door and then stood up following him down the hallway. He entered the bedroom and found Fliss was stood in a pale blue dress, tears in her eyes.

“Honey what’s wrong?” he frowned.

“This fucking dress!” she practically exploded, her voice cracking. I only bought it a few weeks ago for Jake’s wedding and I just thought I’d try it on with my new shoes and it won’t do up at the back.”

Frank looked at her, feeling a pang of sympathy for his girl. She’d been really up and down in particular over the last 2 days with her hormones and she looked absolutely distraught, even if it was something so ridiculous as a dress that had set her off.

“Let me see.” he said, crossing the floor towards her. She turned and he gently reached for the zip, pulling the 2 sides of the dress together but it wasn’t going to fasten.

“See…” she sighed as he let go of the zip and rubbed the top of her arms. “I’m not even 5 months yet…” “You’re a week off.” he said softly.

“…And I feel huge! This is ridiculous…”

Frank slid his arms around her from behind, dropping a kiss to her shoulder. “Lissy, you’re not huge at all. Bean has just sprouted all of a sudden that’s all. You got a proper bump now.” “I am aware of that, Frank.” She snapped.

Frank took a deep breath, not rising to her in the slightest. Instead his hands moved to either side of the offending swell in her abdomen and he turned her gently towards the full length mirror in the corner of the room.

“Look… “ he said, fixing his eyes on hers in their reflection as his hand skated over her belly “You’re beautiful, and you’re cooking our baby in here…”

“That still doesn’t help that I have no dress!”

“Ok, well, let’s go shopping tomorrow. Mary’s at that party in the afternoon so we’ll drop her off, head into town and grab you something.”

Fliss paused as she looked at him in the mirror, her face slowly rearranging as she realised that actually the solution to the problem had been fairly simple all along.

“Sorry.” she mumbled. “I flipped again didn’t I?”

“Its fine.” he said, dropping a kiss to her cheek. “You didn’t throw a mug on the floor today so that’s an improvement.” “In my defence…” she turned to look at him “You did ask me about 5 times if I was feeling ok in the space of 10 minutes” “And clearly you weren’t as said mug is now in 3 pieces…” he shook his head and let out a long, dramatic sigh “You know I loved that mug too…it was a sad day.” Fliss snorted “You got it free from the Tack Store when we took Mary for her new hat…” “And it was a treasured memory. A reminder of how she stung me for another hundred bucks…” “Can’t put a price on safety Frankie.” she smiled and he chuckled.

“So, tomorrow afternoon then?” he asked and she nodded eagerly.

“Can we go to Tampa? The shopping is better there.”

“Sure.” he said, and suddenly the bones of a plan began to form in his head. And it was a good plan…if he could pull it off… “Crisis averted?” he asked, looking down at her.

“Crisis averted” she nodded.

“Good.” he smiled, kissing her cheek before he turned to leave the room to allow her to change for bed.

“Frank?”

“Yeah?” he stopped to look at her.

“I really want chilli fries.” she said, her voice almost puzzled.

“Chilli fries?” he frowned “Really? That’s a new one…”

“I know.” She shrugged. “I just got a hankering…specifically for Tequila Mockingbirds fries…”

Frank glanced at his watch “Sweetheart, it’s almost 11. The truck will have shut now…he only opens late on Saturday.”

“Oh, ok.” she said quietly, and he could see to his horror that her bottom lip was starting to wobble. Fuck, not another meltdown. Was this seriously how it was going to be for the next 4 damned months? Fucking hormones…

“Why don’t I nip to the store?” he said, a sudden idea coming to him “I can whip up a batch of the dirty ones you showed me how to make?”

“Yeah, yeah that could work.” she nodded.

“Ok, well, I’ll be back as soon as I can.” he smiled, turning on his heels.

It worked out quite well actually, as he used the short drive to the store to put his plan into action. First off he messaged Jake who called him straight back.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“I need you to do me a favour…” Frank said, explaining his plan.

“Short notice pal.”

“Yeah but you owe me so pull some strings”

“I owe you?” Jake snorted “What for?”

“If you hadn’t been tagged on those damned photos no one would have seen them and I wouldn’t have been couched for a night nor would I be suffering with blue balls.” Frank said simply, turning right across a junction.

Jake snorted “Leave it with me Frankie boy…I’ll see what I can do.”

Satisfied he cut the call and once he arrived at the store he shot Verity a quick message asking her if she would mind helping him out as well. He felt a little guilty, as they’d only gotten back from Italy that morning but she replied almost instantly telling him that she thought it was a great idea and her and Bill would be happy to do what he needed them to do.

Smiling he put his phone back in his pocket, and headed to the frozen food aisle at the back of the 24 hour mini-mart. He stood there, unable to decide what fries to buy so in the end he grabbed a bag of every available frozen ones there were- thick cut, curly, southern fried and thin, along with a tin of ready-made chilli (yes, disgusting but on dirty fries it was the only thing Fliss told him worked) and a block of cheddar cheese. As he walked towards the till he stopped, grinning as he spotted they had the big bottles of Appletize too, so he shoved 4 in his basket and headed to the counter.

The woman at the counter looked at him as he began unloading and Frank realised that it was a pretty odd combination.

“You either got the munchies or your girl is pregnant.” she quipped and Frank laughed.

“I’m not high.” he smiled, and the woman grinned at him as she scanned the items through.

Once he had paid he headed home, and found Fliss was led on the sofa with a toasting waffle in one hand and a glass of apple juice in her other.

“Couldn’t wait huh?” he asked as he walked through to the kitchen.

“I know…” she said, looking at him over the back of the couch. “I had an apple and a waffle…and I feel ok now.”

Frank stopped dead and turned to face her, the grocery bags clutched to his chest “Seriously? You don’t want the fries?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Not anymore.”

Frank took a deep breath, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek in frustration as he walked into the kitchen, depositing the bags on the side.

“The kid ain’t even born yet and it’s already a pain in my ass…”

“I can hear you grumbling from here…” Fliss called back.

“Good…” he retorted as she shoved the bottles of drink in the fridge and crammed the 4 bags of frozen fries into the freezer. Grabbing a beer he walked back into living room and dropped heavily onto couch next to her.

“Don’t be so grouchy.” she teased, lifting her feet into his lap. He shot her a glare, taking her right foot in his hands in an automatic response, and she dropped her hand to her belly. “Bean is sorry.” she said, flashing him her best puppy dog eyes, those fucking eyes that could get him to do whatever she wanted.

“Don’t pull that one.” he narrowed his own eyes at her and she cocked her head to one side as he ran his thumb up the arch of her foot. She let out a sigh.

“I’ll make it up to you.”

“How?” he asked as she looked at him, smirking.

“Bow job?”

Frank snorted, shifting slightly in his seat as that had really got his attention. But, not wanting to give himself away too much he simply arched an eyebrow at her “You think you can win me over like that?”

“Sailor, I know I can.”

“I’m not that cheap.” he said as his hands returned to massaging her foot.

“No, but I know for a fact you haven’t had any since the night before you went to Vegas…” she grinned “What was it you said in New York after a mere 3 days? Oh, yeah, Frankie has needs.”

Ok, so she’d got him well and truly. Like he had said to Jake before, he really was feeling slightly frustrated, but he hadn’t pushed anything on her at all since he’d come back from Vegas, deciding to let her make the decision as to when she wanted to get physically intimate with him again. As he looked at her she simply smiled and drained her glass of juice before setting it on the table.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing.” he shook his head, “Was just trying to figure out if you were being serious or not.” She held his gaze for a moment before she looked back at the TV. They stayed still for a moment and Frank moved his attention to her left foot, before she shifted a little and then glanced back at him.

“Fraaaank.” her voice was an unmistakable whine, which meant she wanted something. “What?” he said, his word turning into an exasperated laugh.

“Did you get any curly fries?” she bit her lip.

“Are you for fucking real?” he looked at her, shaking his head.

“Don’t blame me…”

“Yeah, yeah blame Bean…” he shook his head “I swear to God by the time you’ve actually given birth to the little crotch goblin I’ll have aged about 20 years…”

“Crotch goblin?” she scoffed, “I’ll remind you, pal, you put it there…”

“Not on purpose!” he looked at her.

“Are you calling our baby a mistake?” Fliss narrowed her eyes at him, mock horror on her face

“Mistake…that’s a little harsh.” Frank shook his head “Accident, most definately.”

“Bastard.” Fliss grabbed a cushion from behind her and hit him with it as he laughed, grabbing it out of her hand.

“BB is a very pleasant and welcome surprise…” he said, shifting her legs out of his lap. Grinning he leaned over her, caging her on the sofa with his arms “Although right now, as I’m about to start cooking dirty fries at 15 to midnight, I’m debating the use of the pronoun pleasant.”

She chuckled as he leaned over to give her a soft kiss. Instantly she felt a little flutter again and her hand dropped to her bump.

“Bean’s moving again…”

Frank smiled and shifted a little so he could press his hand to her side, but after a moment or so shook his head, feeling ever so slightly deflated.

“I can’t feel anything.”

“You will do soon enough.” Fliss smiled at him.

“Hope so.” Frank’s smile became even softer as he kissed her again and stood up, heading to the kitchen.

Fliss watched him go, before she turned back to the TV, but she wasn’t paying attention, she was too busy thinking to herself how quickly Frank had headed out to get her what she wanted before, even if she had then changed her mind, and then reverted it back to it’s original state. She hated comparing the two of them, and tried not to do it, but as she sat there she couldn’t help it. Frank was as far from John as she was likely to get, her ex-husband wouldn’t have ever done anything like that for her, whether she as carrying his kid or not. But Frank hadn’t even hesitated. And now he was actually about to cook it too. She wasn’t even sure John had ever known how to actually turn the damned oven on. To be fair, when she’d met Frank his cooking skills were also limited but another huge difference in them was that he had wanted to learn. He helped her, listened and managed pretty much once she’d cooked something with him to make a fairly decent version of it on his own. And he did this simply because he wanted to. He had said he didn’t like the fact she cooked every day, and on the evenings she got home a little later than normal he wanted to be able to have something ready instead of merely calling for a take out.

As she sat there, those thoughts whirring in her head, she felt a surge of affection for her Sailor. Since their talk on Monday, she’d let Frank back into their bed but there’d been no intimacy, although she’d let him cuddle her, she’d kissed him back, she hadn’t been unaffectionate per se, but in all honesty she hadn’t been in the mood for anything else, which was probably something down to hormones as well as her still being a little angry at him, but now…well, she’d seen it in his eyes before when she’d been teasing him, he was frustrated as hell.  And if she was honest, she now found herself in the mood for giving him a little spontaneous pleasure…

With a smirk she stood up and walked into the kitchen, her arms snaking around his waist as she pressed herself to his back (well as much as she could thanks to the football she had in her stomach) and pressed a soft kiss to his back, just beneath his shoulder blades.

“You ok?” he asked, his voice vibrating through his back into her chest and she nodded as her hands rubbed at his stomach under his T-shirt. She felt him tense a little, and grinning she gently moved her hands up his top to rake down the line of hair that led from his chest all the way down his belly. She knew what that did to him and right on cue, Frank gave a grunt, jolting a little and her hand continued to move downwards, palming at his crotch through his sweats.

“Lissy…” his voice caught in his throat as she continued, her hand working him up over his clothing. “You don’t need to-“ “I know, but I want to.” she stood on her tiptoes to whisper into his ear. He tilted his head downwards slightly, allowing her to nip at his jawline and he spun round to face her, where she pulled his head down to hers giving him a slow kiss, her tongue sliding against his before she leaned back, his bottom lip between her teeth.

By the time his brain had caught up with what was going on, Fliss had gotten to her knees and flipped the waist band of the sweats he was wearing down, taking his erection firmly in one hand, making him hiss slightly. She stroked him to full hardness, which didn’t take that long at all, before she looked up and locked eyes with him, giving him one final smirk before she took him in her mouth.

“God, baby….” Frank groaned, his hands gripping the edge of the kitchen counter, her eyes still locked on his. His right hand gently dropped to the back of her head, tangling in her long hair as her head bobbed back and forth. It was bliss, her mouth was warm, lips soft, but her tongue…God she knew just how to work him with that thing and as he felt it wrap around the base of his cock he gave a grunt, his hips bucking forward slightly. At that, Fliss pulled off of him to suck at the tip and worked her hands over the rest of his length which sent shivers up his spine. Groaning, his head dropped back slightly, as she continued to lick, suck before she took him in, this time all the way, her cheeks hollowing and one of her hands reaching round from the back of his thigh to gently squeeze at his balls.

“Fucking hell….” he hissed, his hand tightening in her hair and once more looked at her. Her eyes locked back onto his and he felt that tell-tale warmth pooling in his groin and stomach.

"Lissy, sweetheart, shit…" His voice was raspy from desire and pleasure and at the mere sound of how turned on his was Fliss felt the wetness beginning to pool in between her legs. He continued to babble curse words and her name, before he gasped again, letting out a loud moan. “Fuck, honey, "I'm gonna-" his words caught in his mouth as Fliss took him all the way to the back of her throat. At that, he was gone, his fingers gripped her hair tight the other clutched at the kitchen side, noises that sounded alien even to him tumbling from his mouth as he spilled himself down her throat and slumped back completely blissed out against the kitchen side.

Fliss grinned, her hands gently running up the outside of his thighs as she stood up, pulling his boxers and sweats with her, pressing herself to his chest. With a soft hum of contentment, he opened his eyes and looked down at her.

“Good?” she asked, but the look in her eyes told him she knew exactly what the answer was. Still, he gave it her anyway. “Damned right it was…” he grinned, leaning down and kissing her, his hands holding her face in position. She let out a soft moan into his mouth and he pulled back slightly, arching an eyebrow.

“You all worked up baby girl?”

“Yeah…don’t suppose you fancy helping me out…” she whispered, and Frank grinned.

“We got 15 minutes till the fries cook so…” he smirked as he gently spun her round so her back was clutched to his chest.  Fliss grinned to herself as his lips gently brushed on her neck, his beard scratching at her skin as he nipped his way down to her shoulder, his hand splaying over her bump before it worked beneath the waistband of her pyjama shorts. Her breath caught in her throat as his fingers skated her entrance.

“You are worked up…” he muttered, his fingers sliding through her slick, as her head fell back against his shoulder and she bit her lip.

“I told you…” she muttered as his fingers slipped further into her folds, finding that little bundle of nerves. His other hand slipped up her vest top and ran up her side to her breasts, which he knew would be tender, but the plus side to that was that they were goddamned sensitive, so heightened to his touch and it got her off like nothing he’d ever seen before. True to form, she let out a soft squeak as he rolled a nipple gently between his thumb and forefinger. Sliding his fingers inside her he curled them against the fleshy spot on her walls, both his hands working in synch, a coordinated attack on her senses and within minutes she was putty in his hands.

“Frankie…I’m…god…fuck!” she cursed, her head falling back further as her knees began to shake.

“I got you…” he said softly, his mouth caressing her neck again “Go on baby, give it to me…” With a desperate groan she shuddered, her hand wrapping around his wrists as he felt her pulsing and squeezing around his fingers as she came, the trembles wracking her entire body. Frank held her steady until she took a deep breath, giving a soft sigh as she leaning back into him. She tilted her head round to look at him, a smile on her face, her cheeks tinged with pink underneath those gorgeous freckles and he smiled at her, giving her a soft kiss. Setting her clothes right for her, his hands skated over her bump once more and he kissed her shoulder.

“You ok?” he asked.

“Yep.” she nodded, popping the P as she turned to face him, leaning up to kiss the underneath of his jaw. He looked down at her, before a wicked smirk crossed his face and he popped his two fingers in his mouth, sucking her taste off him.

“Francis!” she scoffed, slapping him round the back of the head and he let out a loud laugh.

“You don’t complain about me tasting you when I’m down there…” “You’re so vulgar!” she snorted.

“Says the woman who just blew me in the kitchen.” She cocked her head to one side, shrugging slightly “Touché….”

He smiled again before she turned to the fridge “Want another beer?”

“Sure, thanks.” he said.

She pulled open the fridge door and let out a little shriek of delight “Where did you get that?” she asked, her eyes widening as she pulled out a bottle of Appletize. “I couldn’t find any in the supermarket!”

“The Mini-Mart before.” he said, “Woman thought I was high when I bought 4 bags of fries and 4 big bottles of that”

“My hero!” she grinned

Frank grinned “if fetching you fries and Appetize means you get on your knees for me then hell, I’ll go every fucking night.”

“Don’t get used to it Sailor.” she looked at him, “Soon I'll be too big to kneel down.”

Frank chuckled, “Why don’t you go wait in the lounge?”

"I'm good.” Fliss shrugged “I'll help."

The two of them stood in the kitchen making their food. Frank warmed the chili through as Fliss grated the entire block of cheese and when Frank challenged her as to why exactly they needed that for 2 of them she simply replied “3 of us Frankie…” whilst patting her bump. Soon they were sat on the sofa, Fliss cross legged with a plate on her lap as she devoured her snack. Frank watched her as she eagerly ate, eyes fixed on the latest episode of Rick And Morty, every so often she would chuckle at something on the screen. Frank smiled to himself, it had felt like a long 5 days since Monday, but they seemed to be on an even keel. She was joking and laughing with him, had been reasonably affectionate and to be fair her affections certainly had upped a notch when she just sucked him off in the kitchen. Granted, all things considered, he’d rather have carried her to bed, taken his time over her, loved on her a little but…well, he certainly wasn’t complaining. It seemed like she’d finally decided he was completely out of the dog house, which suited him absolutely fine.

Fliss let out a happy sigh and placed her now empty plate on the coffee table on top of the one Frank had discarded a few minutes ago. She stretched out her limbs before she shifted and snuggled into Frank’s side.

"Love you." She said, her hand rubbing his tummy softly under his t-shirt. "So does Bean"

Her touch and words made him feel all warm inside. Not horny warm…just…fuzzy warm. Smiling he dropped a kiss to her head “Love you too, both of you.”

****** “What do you think?” Fliss asked, giving a twirl. With the help of the assistant in the little independent Mother and Baby boutique shop they’d stumbled across, aptly called “Bump In The Road” she’d chosen a maxi dress with a pleated tulle overlay in stripes of bright pastel pink, orange, lime-green, purple, yellow and blue. The top half was a baby pink with spaghetti straps which crossed at the back and It had a plunging V-neckline which complemented the fit and flare silhouette which meant the skirt hung comfortably over her lower body but still made her feel sexy enough thanks to it accentuating her cleavage...which, to be fair, she’d noticed when trying the dress on, was a lot more noticable now thanks to her boobs being swollen.

Frank’s eyes took her in and he smiled, nodding approvingly.  “You look beautiful.” he told her honestly, and she flushed a little, twirling in the mirror.

“Do you think the colour is ok or should I go for the yellow one? I mean is it too much boob and the yellow is a halter neck so you don’t see any…” “Lissy…” he shook his head, chuckling “It looks fine, more than fine. I really like it on you.” “It’s also elasticated at the back and the straps adjust.” the assistant spoke “So your worry about bump growing more over the next week won’t cause an issue. You’ll get a fair few months I expect out of this.” Fliss hummed, looked at her reflection again before she smiled “OK, yeah, great…I’ll take it.”

The assistant smiled and Fliss turned back to head into the changing cubicle. Once she was out of ear shot Frank looked at the woman.

“Can we take the yellow one too?” he asked, “Just ring it through before she comes back, I want it to be a surprise.”

The assistant nodded and smiled “Sure, I’ll get it ready and bagged now so she doesn’t see it.”

“Thanks.”

He headed to the till, producing his card and shortly after Fliss joined him and he let out a chuckle when he saw she’d also picked up another little baby-grow on the way. This one was white and bore an apple on the front, with the words “apple of our eye” arched over the top.

“I thought it was kinda fitting.” she grinned and Frank had to agree considering her craving. He handed it to the assistant who was smart enough not to announce the total to him, given the additional purchase as he handed his card over. Fliss pouted at him but one look and she stopped the fuss she was about to make over the fact he had paid. They’d already had that discussion on the way over, Frank insisting that he wanted to buy her the dress considering it was “his fault” as she had put it that she was in this position in the first place.

He took the bag from the assistant and thanking her once more they headed out and back down the street. Frank stole a glance at his watch, it was just after 3. He could do with killing another hour or so before he put into play his surprise plan so he suggested they grab a drink and an ice cream at the little parlour on the corner. Fliss eagerly agreed so that killed another 40 minutes as they sat and joked over a sundae each, before they headed back to the truck taking the long way round, checking out a few other shops as they went, Fliss suggesting the grabbed Mary a few new pieces of clothing as she was growing again. Picking a few t-shirts and a pair of shorts they knew she would like they then headed back to the car and Frank checked his phone, memorising the directions. They weren’t far away.

When he didn’t take the turn for the freeway, Fliss looked at him. “You missed the turn off.” “No I didn’t” he said simply.

“Yeah, you did, it was back there.”

“We’re not going home.” he said simply. She frowned.

“Where are we going then?”

“You’ll see.”

Refusing to give her anything else, despite her questioning he kept driving, until he hit the coastal road and continued along the bay until his destination appeared in front of him. Hanging a right turn, he drove his truck down the little winding road which opened up into a circle drive way flanked by palm trees and bright flowerbeds just outside the reception of the Grand Hyatt.

“Frank…” Fliss looked at him, her eyes shining “We’re staying for the night?”

“Yup.” he nodded turning to face her. “I packed us a bag this morning whilst you were at the yard, Mary’s staying with your parents as is Thor and I suspect Fred and we have a dinner reservation at 7 for the Oyster Catcher, which is on the bay at the back.”

“I don’t…how did you manage to pull this off at such short notice?”

“Jake.” Frank said simply “Come on.”

He hopped out of his truck and smiled to the bus boy who had approached him and nodded for them to collect their bags out of the boot. “Including the large paper one.” he said discreetly and he nodded before he turned to collect the slip of paper from the valet. He took Fliss’ hand and led her into the huge reception area to the hotel, the floor a gorgeous white marble as they walked over to the desk and he smiled at the woman who looked at him.

“Good afternoon Sir, Ma’am.” she smiled, and Fliss suddenly felt a little self-conscious. Everyone was milling around in various states of what she would term upper-class smart casual, in blazers and open necked dress shirts with jeans that probably cost more than her fucking jeep. Frank, however, in contrast didn’t give a shit. He wasn’t here to impress or blend in.

“Reservation for Adler.” he said smiling at the receptionist who tapped at a keyboard and nodded.

“Yes Mr Adler, you’re here for one night…and have an executive double…” she scanned the booking “The room rate is already settled, but I can set up-…” “I’m sorry, did you say the room rate was covered?” Frank frowned. “Yes.” She nodded, “It’s already been paid.” “Take it that wasn’t expected.” Fliss looked at him and he shook his head, smiling.

“No, no it wasn’t. I’ll thank Jake later.” he said, before he turned to the lady at the desk “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“No problem.” she smiled “I was just saying if you want to give me your card I can set up a tab so you can charge items to your room…” “Sure.” he nodded, fishing for his wallet before handing her the small square of plastic. As she took a scan of it he turned to Fliss and dropped a kiss to her temple as she smiled, her arm looping around her waist.

“Is this where we’re staying for Jake’s wedding?” she asked and he nodded.

“Thought we could give it a test run beforehand.” he looked at her “You are ok we’re staying, right?” “Of course.” she smiled “It’s really sweet of you.” “Well, I try.” he winked before he turned back to the brunette behind the desk who asked him for his signature in a few places before she handed him the key.

“Ok so you’re on the 5th floor…” she said nodding, “Room 512. Take the elevator to the 5th floor go right out of the elevator and you’ll see it on the left hand side. I’ll have your bags brought up

Frank thanked her and they both headed off following the directions. Frank led Fliss out of the elevator an down to the room, opening the door to let her in. The room was large, with a huge king bed in the middle and a large TV on the wall, and a balcony overlooking the bay. But what caught Fliss’ attention straight away was the 4 pack of beer on the small table and the large bottle of Apple juice for her. She nudge Frank and he gave a snort as she walked over to it and picked up the note attached to it.

“Enjoy the room on me pal, well, my Employee Free Stay points anyway…sorry about the balls.” she read aloud as she turned to him and Frank rubbed at his neck, “I’m not even gonna ask what that means.” “Yeah, probably best” he grinned, and then there was a knock at the door. Frank opened it and in walked the bus boy with their luggage, setting it down for them before Frank thanked him, slipped him a ten and he headed out.

Fliss looked at the overnight bag and then frowned “What did you bring me to wear to dinner.” “Nothing” Frank said, before he grinned and picked up the bag from the boutique. “But I got you something before.” “That’s for the wedding.” She looked at him, “Although I could wear it twice…” “No, check in the bottom.” he insisted. She frowned a little, before she took the bag and set it down on the small table, before she let out a gasp as she pulled out the lemon yellow dress she’d tried on before.

“You bought me both of them?”

He nodded.

“Frankie, you didn’t have to do that. You didn’t have to do any of this.” she said, her eyes misting over.

“I know but I wanted to.” he said, stepping forwards his hands dropping to her hips. “I figured it would be nice for us to have some time together, just the two…well…3…” he grinned, nodding to her bump “of us.” “Thank you.” she said, looking up at him as he dropped a kiss to her lips.

Once they’d unpacked their overnight thing, Fliss headed for a shower and emerged a little while later in a robe and Frank walked back in from where he’d been on the balcony with a beer, having fired a thank you message to Jake. He smiled at Fliss and headed to shower himself, coming back about 5 minutes later also wrapped in a robe. They sat out together on the balcony talking for a little while as Fliss pretty much drank the entire bottle of juice before she announced she was going to get ready.

“You look gorgeous.” Frank said as she stood in front of him, wearing her dress. Her hair was pulled back into a bun and her make-up was light, despite the fact that Frank had shoved pretty much every item in her vanity case into their bag not knowing what she would want and wouldn’t want.

“You look pretty dapper too, Sailor” she smiled, taking in his black button down and smart jean. Dropping a kiss to her cheek he gestured to the door and they both left the room and made their way to the restaurant which was located through the back of the hotel. They were led through to the outside patio which had a spectacular panoramic view of Old Tampa Bay. Fliss ordered herself a mock-tail, whilst Frank asked for a beer, grinning when the waiter told them they had Stella on tap.  Fliss busied herself with the menu, and Frank took a moment to watch her. She really was glowing. He’d thought that was such a shit cliché about pregnant women, but at that point in time he couldn’t think of any other way to describe her. Her face was slightly fuller now, but with it she carried a soft look, which just complimented her personality anymore. The changes her entire body was going through reminded him daily she was carrying his baby, and each day he woke up and was convinced he was slightly more in love with her than he had been when he’d fallen asleep, even though he knew that wasn’t actually possible.

“The mahi-mahi looks really good.” Fliss mused as she looked at the menu. “As does the lobster but not sure I can eat that…” “Well, actually…” Frank said, leaning forward and pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket “I knew this was a seafood restaurant so Mary did her usual google…and found this.”

He handed it to her and waited for her reaction. As she scanned the list of seafood that she could eat she shook her head and let out a little moan.

“So all this time I could have been eating prawns?!”

Frank shrugged “According to that.”

“Damned it!” he cursed “I’m going to kill my mum.” “Well I don’t doubt guidelines have changed a little over the years” he chuckled.

Before she could reply the waiter came back to take them to their table which was on the large veranda at bay level. He left them alone for another 10 minutes before returning for their order. Frank raised his eyebrow as Fliss ordered the fishcakes to start and then the Lobster tail for main, not that he cared how much it cost, he wasn’t worrying about that tonight. With that in mind he went for the same started but then the surf-and-turf option, with a fillet steak.

“I can’t remember the last time we did this.” Fliss said, reaching out over the table, her hand tangling in his. “Just had a meal out, the 2 of us.”

“Me neither.” he mused. “It was before Christmas I know that much.”

“Probably before Boston actually.” she mused.

“We should do it more often” he smiled, his thumb skating over her engagement ring “I like spending time with you like this.”

“Me too.” she smiled at him. “And don’t worry Sailor. Once Bean is here you’re taking me out for an evening of fine dining where I’m gonna eat my bodyweight in blue cheese and drink a swimming pool full of wine…or champagne…or maybe both.” He chuckled and nodded “Whatever you want honey.”

Their conversation turned to their house hunting, both agreeing that they really needed to step it up a notch. They hadn’t even made an appointment with a bank yet to find out what they biggest budget they had was, so that was first on the agenda, Frank saying he would call to make an apartment on Monday. And then when their starters arrived they switched to the biggest question of all at the moment, whether they were going to find out if Bean was pink or blue.

“I think I wanna know.” Fliss said, swallowing the last of her starter, giving Frank a smile

Frank looked at her, his head cocking to one side. “You wanna find out?”

Fliss smiled shyly and paused as the waiter came along to remove their now empty plates before she continued once he had left.  “I wasn’t sure…but…yeah, I think I am now. It struck me before in that shop, that once we know how much easier it will be, buying blue or pink stuff instead of yellows or greys…”

“I dunno, I quite like the yellow item we bought…” he quipped, taking a mouthful of his beer as he nodded to her dress. She grinned.

“Well, yeah, I do too…but you know full well what I mean.”

He chuckled “Yeah, I do.” he leaned forward a little, both arms resting on the table as he looked at her, “Ok, so that’s decided then…we find out?”

She nodded, holding his gaze for a moment and he blinked, a soft mile spreading across his face. “I can’t wait.” he admitted to her, almost bashfully and she smiled back.

“Me neither…” she whispered.

*****

“Frankie, that was such wonderful evening.” Fliss turned to look at him as she kicked off her sandals whilst he locked the hotel room door behind them. “Thank you.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it Sweetheart…” he said gently, pulling her to him as his hands wrapped around her back.

“It was really thoughtful” she said, as her hands slid up his chest. “You didn’t have to do it though you know, I mean as an apology, I’m not-“ “No no, it wasn’t that.” he shook his head, “I just wanted some time with you, that’s all. I do have my sentimental moments when I’m not being a complete jack ass.” he quipped and she looked at him, her face soft.

“You’re my jack ass…” she smiled as her arms looped around his neck.

“Always.” he returned her smile as he leaned down to kiss her.

“Can you help me out of this dress?” she whispered into his mouth, and fuck, he didn’t need asking twice.

Frank reached round to the zipper at the back and gently slid it down as Fliss moved back, allowing the lemon coloured fabric to pool at her feet. He followed the line of her body upwards, over her thighs, that neat little bump, up past her hips, her breasts before he finally met her eyes again. He looked at her for a second before his lips crashed to hers, noses bumping slightly as he flicked his tongue teasingly into her mouth, his hands cupping her ace as hers fisted in the back of his shirt.

In a quick movement, Frank reached down and hooked his hands round the back of her thighs, easily picking her up, bump and all. She giggled, wrapping her legs round his waist, her nose brushing against his as he carried her over to the bed, setting her down gently on it.  He shucked off his own shoes as he reached behind his head and grabbed a fist full of his shirt, yanking it over his head without even bothering with the buttons, before he dropped down on the bed, settling his hips in between her legs in the space she made for him as she ran her hands through his hair. He smiled softly at her before he pressed his lips back to hers, kissing her deeply, his large hands keeping him propped above her so as not to put any of his weight against that precious cargo she was carrying.

She pushed on his chest, sitting up slightly as she reached behind her to undo her bran and Frank leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on each shoulder as he slid the straps down over her arms, removing it completely. As she lay back against the bed, Frank shifted so he was led on his side by her, his mouth hungrily covering hers as his hand trailed up the outside of her thigh, to her hip, up the side of her body and then onto her breasts teasing gently. She groaned, rolling her head back on the pillow at the sensation, her hips bucking upwards as he shifted, hovering over her. He buried his face in the side of her neck working at the pulse spot, the little noises of pleasure she was making were music in his ear. Her hips began to move, rolling against nothing, groans falling from her lips at the sensation as he nipped slightly at her neck and then moved his mouth to her chest, taking her right nipple in. Her groans were growing louder now and Frank couldn’t take it anymore. He wanted to be in her, surrounded by her, feel her. Moving back to shed the rest of his clothes, he stood up, undoing his jeans and kicking them off, all the time his eyes on Fliss’ as she watched him, her gaze travelling down his body to where his cock now stood angry and red against his abs. He leaned down, hooking his fingers in the lace of Fliss’ panties, pulling them down over her legs before he settled on the bed once more, Fliss moving so she could straddle him. As she did so, his hands tangled in her hair, pulling her face down to kiss him as she reached down between them, taking him in her hand. He groaned but didn’t release her mouth as she adjusted position to take him in, slowly sliding down onto him. A filthy moan flew from her mouth which he swallowed with his kiss as she stayed pressed against him, and she began to move, rolling her hips forward. She was quick to find a rhythm and her mouth fell open against his lips and she let out a shaky moan before sitting up fully.

The sight of her on top, illuminated by soft light streaming in through the slight gap in the curtains was almost enough to tip him right over there and then. He wanted to touch her, so he did, bringing her hands up to run them up her sides until his hands cupped her breasts, thumbs running over her nipples as she let out another moan. As she picked up the pace his hands went to her hips, pulling her down onto him harder, thrusting upwards to meet her for every move she made. She continued to move, quickening, her eyes never leaving his.

“Frankie…”she groaned, as he tilted his hips up harder and he let out a groan himself, increasingly determined to get her there again before he lost it. As he felt the coil in his own belly tightening, his hand moved from her hip to stroke at that spot between her legs and that did it. He felt her tense up and tighten around him, crying out loudly and unbridled as she shook. The sight of her coming undone on top of him, her cheeks flushed, lips pink, mouth open in a now silent scream, would always be the single most exquisite thing Frank had ever seen, no matter how many times he got to see it. All of that, coupled with the force of her heat tightening even, more made him lose himself.

“Fuck, Lissy…” the curse fell from his lips as he thrust upwards, before he spilled himself inside her again, the wave of pleasure washing over him as the world fell silent and he could hear nothing but ringing in his ears. Fliss collapsed forward onto his chest, her tremors subsided, both of them panting as they came back down, turning back into the world. Frank held her close, his fingers running up and down her spine as she let out a soft “hum” of contentment and he sat up, wanting to see her face to face. Still cradling her close he pushed the hair that had fallen over her face back behind her ears and she reached up, running her hands through his, causing him to close his eyes at the sensation of her nails on his scalp.

“God, I love you.” he whispered, pulled her closer, his nose rubbing up against hers.

"I love you too.”

Frank moved so that she could roll off him and to the side, before he pulled the covers back, allowing them both to shuffle under before he turned off the lamp at the side of the bed. Fliss moved so that her head lay on his chest, her arm resting over his stomach and he placed a soft kiss to the side of her temple, his hand moving to softly card through her hair. For the first time in a week, Frank felt like things were completely back to where they should be.

***** They had a lazy morning in the hotel, making the most of the breakfast before they headed back to collect Mary. The drive home was relaxed, the pair of them singing along to whatever came on Frank’s Spotify play-list, Fliss snorting with laughter when the Spice Girls Wannabe hit her ears.

“Hey, it’s a classic.” Frank defended himself as she looked at him, shaking her head.

“Sure it is…” she laughed, cranking the volume up.

When they reached Verity and Bills, Thor came bounding up the drive to greet the truck, running after it and almost sending Fliss flying as he barrelled into her legs. Frank caught her, steadying her as he shot the dog an exasperated look. Whilst he wasn’t growling at Frank anymore, the dog was ridiculously clingy to Fliss, more so than usual and had clearly been unhappy at being away from her. They headed round to the pool area, where Mary was busy wrestling with Steve in the pool, swinging on his arm, trying to pull him under the water. She hardly spared them a second glance as they greeted her, until Verity called her out for a drink and a slice of lemon cake.

“Sit down, sit down!” she ushered Fliss and Frank to the outside table on the decking, where Frank moved a chair back for Fliss, dropping a kiss to her shoulder. Steve and Mary padded over and Mary wrapped herself in a towel whilst Steve moved over to give Fliss a hug, causing her to squeal as he was wet. Mary hopped onto Frank’s knee and gave his cheek a peck and then squished his cheeks together as she often did, making him jerk his head out of her reach before he blew a wet rasberry on her neck, causing her to shriek and pull away.

Bill appeared a short while later, smiling at them all as he took a seat at the table, an envelope in his hands. He paid it no attention though, simply setting it on the table. They talked for a good 10 minutes or so, Fliss telling them all about their hotel and meal before the conversation turned to chatter of house hunting and how they needeed to step it up a notch really if they wanted to have a place before Bean was born, at which point Verity and Bill shared a glance and Bill cleared his throat

“We wanted to talk to you about that.” Bill said, looking at Fliss.

“Ok…” Fliss frowned, glancing at Frank where he sat to her right. She turned back to her parents. “Is something wrong?”

“No, quite the opposite.” Verity smiled as she glanced at Bill. Both of them looked at Steve then who smiled as Mary looked around.

“Is this one of those adult conversations?” she rolled her eyes and Frank nudged her slightly. Bill chuckled.

“It is kiddo, but you can stay.” he said, before he took a deep breath and leaned forward a little “Ok, so you know I handed the business down to Steve when we left England.” “Yeah…” Fliss looked at him as Frank’s eyes flicked to Steve who was lounging back in the whicker chair, smiling softy.

“Well, when I did that it was valued at just over 2 million pounds” he said and Frank felt his eyebrows shoot up into his head. He knew that Bill and Verity were affluent, but he hadn’t appreciated just how much.

“I know all this.” Fliss frowned. “I’m not following…” “Well, the deal was that I took a million out of the pot straight away, for me and your mum to retire on.” Bill said, “That didn’t leave a great deal of cash left in the accounts,  just enough to keep the cash-flow straight, the rest was tied up in the assets. But the other part of the deal was that whilst I was giving it to Steve, half of it was yours and as soon as he was able to he had to give you your share of the remaining value.” Fliss felt her mouth drop open as she wheeled around to look at Frank. “What? I…” “I never told you any of this, because I didn’t want that bastard getting wind of it.” Bill shook his head. “And obviously, we gave you what we could to set up your business and everything when you moved here, but…” “Basically, Titch, the last year or so the profits have sky rocketed.” Steve said. “And, as a result..”

Bill slid the envelope he had brought towards Fliss and she reached out for it with a shaky hand. Opening it gently, she pulled out a cheque and glanced down at the amount. Just short of four hundred and fifty thousand dollars.

Fliss swallowed, speechless, as she handed the paper to Frank who took a deep breath, gulping as he saw the amount.

“Holy shit…” Mary mumbled as she too read it, but no one payed her the slightest bit of attention, as Fliss broke the stunned silence that had fallen over her and Frank.

“Dad, Mum, I…” she looked up at him, tears in her eyes, “I can’t…” “So, you don’t need to fanny around with a mortgage or a bank loan when you find a house.” Bill smiled at her. “You’ve got enough to buy outright.”

“Bill, Verity, this…this is too much.” Frank looked at them both in turn, the tears stinging his eyes.

“Nonsense.” Verity scoffed “It’s Fliss’ inheritance.”

“I’ll sign a pre-nup.” Frank stuttered suddenly, “Anything, I…”

Fliss frowned as did Bill, and she turned her eyes to him “Why would I want you to do that?”

“That’s your money…” he protested. “Yeah, and I’m sharing my life with you…I’m having your baby Frank.” she said gently “I don’t need a pre-nup. You intending on leaving me?” “No of course not…” “Well then.” she said, simply, as if that settled the matter. And in her eyes it did.

“You’ll also still retain your shares.” Steve said gently, “Which means you’ll get the dividends each year and if things keep going the way they are, you might want to consider buying a few more sharpish. They’ll be worth a lot if we land this contract.”

Fliss nodded, taking the information in before she stood up and headed over to her dad who rose from his chair.

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” she said, her tears falling as he pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her back.

“You’re my little girl.” Bill said, his voice choked “I’ll always see you right, you know this.”

She stepped back and turned to her mum as Frank shook Bill’s hand before the man pulled him into a hug.

“Just look after her.” he whispered in Frank’s ear. “I know I don’t need to say it but…”

“You have my word.” Frank pulled back and looked his future father-in-law in the eyes. “I’ll die before I let anything happen to her.”

“Does this mean we can get a house with a pool?” Mary piped up, from where she was now situated in Steve’s arms.

Frank looked at Fliss before they both grinned and he turned to Mary.

“Not sure.” he said “Don’t want you getting all spoilt now do we?”

“Fine…” she shrugged “I’ll just move in here. That’s ok isn’t it?”

“Of course.” Verity grinned “Although you do know if you do, its bed at 8 every night, no treats before dinner, no…” “Who are you trying to kid?” Mary scoffed “Frank says you’re both a pair of right soft touches.”

Frank groaned as Bill, Verity and Steve all sniggered and he shook his head at Mary who stuck her tongue out at him.

“You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?”

Mary simply shrugged and Fliss slid her arms round Frank’s waist and he pressed a kiss to her temple.

“So, house hunting starts tomorrow?” he asked, and she grinned nodding.

“You bet Sailor…”

“Ohhh we could buy a boat!” Mary said suddenly, and Frank paused.

“Actually, that would be kinda cool…”

“Yeah, I’ll buy you a remote control one to play with in the pool” Fliss grinned and Bill laughed as Mary let out a loud yell.

“See, Fliss want’s a pool…”

“Mary, for God’s sake…”

“Ok…Bean wants a pool” Mary grinned as Fliss looked up at Frank with a shrug and a smile.

“It would be kinda cool...” she said softly. 

Frank simply snorted and shook his head. 

[idanwyn-et-al]

Duets and Dastardly Deeds: A Harbor Herald Exclusive!

[The Palazzo Aldenard, Mist.]

Good day, lovely readers! It is daytime where you are, perhaps, yes? Or perhaps the stars have begun their slow scrawl across the darkened bowl of the heavens, the sun a memory to be gossiped about while Her Radiance is raising crops and crisping skins on the other side of our own star. Whatever light is creeping across your parquet floor, your larboard, your patch of forest, I hope to find you in good health and with a hankering to read about a most curious concert that took place at the Palazzo Aldenard’s Opera House a few days past.

This concert hall is well-known to many, but I confess, lovely readers, that it was this reporter’s first chance to visit the venerable venue for herself, and it did not disappoint. A crewmate of mine (ah yes, yours truly is a captain now, of her very own definitely-haunted ship; quite the tale of an unlikely inheritance, and utterly better-suited for another column entirely) and I took our seats, sharing uisghe and waiting for the show to begin. As this reporter is a long time fan of Savo’s (she is indirectly responsible for a prison sentence I served some years back, another story best shared over a plate of steak frites and a gallon of stout), I knew that her gnarled, underfed-despite-everyone’s-best-efforts paw brings a twist to every show, and inspires the audience to loosen up when confronted with the unexpected. Little did I know how much of a twist this show would wring itself into, like a wet rag squeezing water over still-smoldering embers! However, I am getting ahead of myself, lovelies. 

The evening began with a dueling duet; T’ahlia and D’ahlia! D’ahlia played classical piano with poise and elegance, fingers running over the keys nimbly. T’ahlia echoed and responded with her ceruleum guitar, sending reverbs into the rafters. Still, D’ahlia was dauntless, playing the act of straight man to the showy comedy of T’ahlia’s riffs. Both showcased skill and playfulness with ease, getting things off to a joyful start.

The duo was joined by Hani Dan’na, singing a song about lost relationships. Resigned, lovely lyrics left many an eye wet; surely, it was the profusion of springtime blossoms outside that caused such a thing. Surely, that.

Lionnellais Deveraux and Rythas Brynelle next took the stage, a pas de deux in lyrical form about looking at oneself in the looking glass and resolving to change. The two tall, lithe performers did, indeed, seem to be looking into a mirror as their eyes met and their melodic runs tumbled into harmonies. To this reporter, they seemed to encapsulate the desire to make today the first day of the rest of their lives---to use a quote oft-seen in cross-stitch on one’s grandmama’s wall---but were almost daring the other to be the first to change.

Aero, a new performer to this reporter and many others in the audience, was as forthright about being high on Shroud mushrooms as he was about body positivity; he performed entirely in the nude, and one was certainly larger than the other (pupils, I mean. Pupils!).  Savo provided riffs on her famed ten-stringed viol, and the pair brought levity to the stage. I do believe in a thing called love, even if it comes at the cost of Keepers of the Moon dragging you out into the woods and making you question all you’ve ever known. 

Zanin Briggs and Rythas continued in this vein with the next piece; it seems they, too, are reluctant-yet-indulgent caretakers of Savo and Fheyla. Family may make you question everything, dear readers, but if they lead you to great adventures, things like fleas, questionable manners, and spotty hygiene can be overlooked. 

A pair of mysterious Elezen women took the boards with a back-to-back set filled with as much fire as a bellyful of my late Papa’s famous uisghe. Injecting the room with a raw-hearted, toothy roar of lyrics meant to ignite the still-simmering resentment in Ishgard, these mysterious performers dressed to impress did just that! Yes, dear readers, although word out of those stony, snowcapped spires is that the Lord Commander has done his level best to close the gap between high and lowborn, it seems a thousand years of rigid social structures and war leave those still in the social depths wondering when their voices will really be heard. It was then when this reporter began to notice something of a theme throughout the night’s performances; unease, discontent, loss, building into...

FIRE! You read that right, faithful readers; a fire erupted backstage, and we were all summarily evacuated to the lawn for half a bell’s time. Take heart; the Palazzo’s staff were professional, efficient, and informative. I have now learned that if one must shout fire at a crowded theater, this is the theater in which to do so, lovelies. Once the blaze was contained, the show did indeed go on; and that, I believe, is my quota of cliched phrases for this article.

Once we had all filed back in---neatly and in single file, I assure you---Lionnellais and Rythas welcomed the audience back with a jaunty tune with the refrain “Under Censure”. This reporter must confess that the untimely fire combined with the lyrics that speak of restraints fraying under pressure had her wondering a great many things. Still, just as the show went on, so, too, must this article. 

T’ahlia returned to the stage with an acoustic guitar, and was joined by Hesper of Trinity. The pair sang a soulful duet about an “army of two” that would stand against all odds and defy the world. Your faithful reporter was very much lost in her own thoughts and suppositions, but was briefly brought back to attention by the songstress Sif, who joined T’ahlia for the next piece. This one spoke of T’ahlia’s conflicted feelings of yearning and betrayal directed at her mother, a woman of the Shroud who did her best for the young Miqo’te and yet left her wanting. The duo of Sif and T’ahlia singing call-and-response that melded into soulful, wistful harmonies drew the audience in and included us in such tender, bittersweet recollections.

As their last chords were still lingering like dark tea on the sides of the tongue, we were all drawn to our feet by an upbeat, glittering tune about calling on shinobi when in need! True to the legacy of those infamous assassins, the stage effects were superb; one might even believe that said shinobi were hiding in plain sight, deploying mudra and shadow-smoke to great effect amongst the waving glow wands of the enthused crowd. This reporter could not help but muse over how some of the other performers might, indeed, be inspired to hire a shinobi for their current troubles that simmered along the floorboards along with the occasional puff of singed scenery.

T’ahlia and Dane Escherra brought us all back to those melancholy undercurrents, with the latter offering soulful vocals recounting being a wartime prostitute. They fight like men, die like boys, and the women are expected to pretend it doesn’t affect them, offer themselves up as trophies. It was a simple yet poignant view into a world that many would rather pretend does not exist; this reporter, for one, was more interested in the stories of these women than the wars that raged around them.

Oh, dear readers, how I do eat up the ilms of column space on this one! The final two acts followed the evening’s emotional hills and vales, leaving us on a hill of humor. Zeraia Reynard crooned and Savo clawed tunes about male Seekers of the Sun, and...well, the lyrics are not entirely fit for print, but in the interest of public health (and allowing for poetic embellishment), this reporter must firmly suggest that all those who have enjoyed sexual relations with male Seekers of the Sun be tested for diseases at your local chirurgeon. E’rin Rae’s finale piece, in which she joined the dogpile (catpile) upon male Seekers, was a humorous lament about how they all seem to prefer the same sex, and how she has resigned herself to this fact. 

Though this sennight’s issue has been dedicated to my personal review of this revue, I must let you all in on a little secret; the fire that occurred backstage is quite suspicious, and this reporter will be writing another article or two as she investigates it. In the next sennight’s issue, please look forward to a collection of thoughts, statements, and observations by those that attended the show. In the meantime, I wish you all health and happiness, and would highly recommend the Palazzo Aldenard for its fine facility and superb entertainers.

Song and Scandal,

Idanwyn Lluanswys

Harbor Herald Food and Lifestyle Columnist

((tagging @palazzoaldenard​ , @savothesewercat​ , @rythasbrenelle​ , @fheylahaken​ , @whitherwanderer​ ! Please tag others, I am sleepy and forgetful. Thank you for the excellent show, and please stay tuned as Idanwyn does her best to investigate! I also enjoy going to concerts, restaurants, and other such fun social events to write articles, so message me here or on discord at #esper3592 if you’ve got something fun coming up!))

[softcoregamer]

DRAGON QUEST XI S: ECHOES OF AN ELUSIVE AGE - DEFINITIVE EDITION

I've never played a Dragon Quest game before, so all I had to go on with this game was the pretty looking graphics and charming character art by the Dragonball guy, which- combined with having a hankering for a JRPG, a genre I haven't played since probably the Digital Devil Saga games (minus an abandoned most-of-the-way-done playthrough of SMT3 and a partial of one of the Megadimension Neptunias) was enough to sell me on it. I'm having a tough time determining if it was worth it.

(spoilers)

The story starts off very weak. Your glowing hand marks you as the chosen one, you have to collect glowing orbs to defeat the dark lord. It's like the story of a generic videogame you'd see in the background of a movie. They do throw in a little novelty to keep you on your toes- you present yourself to the king and he throws you in the dungeon, you go back to your hometown and travel back in time for some reason- but I really never warmed to the setting. It's just a collection of cliches and cute gimmicks, like the town of people who speak in haikus, the town of people who speak in rhyming couplets (you're stuck with these people for the bulk of the exposition at the start of act 2, which is a nightmare) and the town of- ugh- Italians. There's no sense of these places being places. It's just a nice pleasant fairytale kingdom of the kind that's normally mentioned in Snow White or whatever as the place the handsome prince comes from, except here you spend dozens of hours trudging through it looking for glowing tree roots and orbs. The big problem in Gallopolis is that the sultan's son isn't brave enough for god's sake. Acts 2 and 3 pick things up, and there's some neat reveals- I like that the lil red star you've been seeing in the sky right from the start was the stain of the original hero's failure to slay the villain, literally hanging over the entire setting all this time. Also the annoying act 1 scene where you get handed the name of the villain and an orb quest in an exposition dump is retroactively improved by the fact that the exposition isn't quite correct. Act 3 reintroducing time travel and actually being thoughtful about it was welcome as well, but sadly that has the effect of making you redo story points you already did since, logically, you're back in time to where you haven't done them yet. Sometimes this comes across as getting a do-over to get a more positive outcome for something that previously ended more tragically, in keeping with the way time travel is explained in-universe as essentially reloading an earlier save (and, as revealed in the end, continuing in a separate save slot). The 8th party member's act 3 quest is a standout here. In reading discussion of the game I've seen people insist on referring to this character as 8, presumably to preserve the plot twist of his existence, so I guess I'll do it too. But more often than not, act 3 quests consist of just doing the same stuff as act 2 again, in a somewhat more curt manner. This sticks in the craw after so much of act 2 already consisted of just doing the same stuff as act 1 again. The party members aren't much better, for the most part. The first three people you meet all say "ah, you're the Luminary, I was sent to help you" and there isn't much to them beyond that for a long time. Sylvando has a lot of personality, which is probably partly why he's become the game's big meme character, but it gets grating and he is insanely trite. The Dark Lord takes over the world and purges the unclean, and Sylvando's overriding concern is that he wants people to laugh and smile more. It's like he takes advantage of the fact that I need him for his boat to get my goat by acting like a fucking teletubby. Things pick way up when you meet Rab, and the 8th party member is genuinely really good. Even the early-game party members end up having their moments (Erik's backstory was pretty fun) but the game really doesn't put its best foot forward with these characters. Not that it needs to; for the first few I was just glad to be getting some help in combat. The combat is excellent in this game, when it gets going. I played with the "draconian quest" tougher enemies mode on, and I turned it off right at the act 2 end boss. The difficulty curve flowed really well this way, with act 3 enemies not feeling noticeably less tough than "draconian" act 2 enemies. The abilities and spells you get are carefully balanced so that it's very difficult to put together a perfect 4-person party, you're always missing something. This means the fact that you can change your line-up midfight isn't just a nice quality of life feature, it's a potentially vital mechanic. They tread a fine line where sometimes needing to swap people out during the battle doesn't mean the characters themselves feel useless; everyone is capable of some extremely tough stuff. And on the other end of the scale, enemy damage is heavy enough that buffing your attack and using big-damage abilities vs healing or defending can be a properly difficult choice; a heavy hit or a big heal at the right time can turn the tide of an entire battle, as can your big hitter suddenly getting put to sleep or your healer getting knocked out. Again, this is all with the caveat that I had "draconian quest" on for the first 2/3 of the game, from what I've heard combat without it is insanely easy. My big gripe with the combat is that there's very little in the way of tooltips. What's this enemy's magic resistance? Does my Sap have a better chance of landing if I up my Magical Might, or does that just increase spell damage? Does Oomphle affect Quadraslash? If I increase my agility will it go up by enough that I can take my turn ahead of these enemies? Does agility even do that? Does using abilities and spells mean I go later in the turn order vs generic attacks and defending? You just have to guess at all this; the wiki has some info on enemy stats but I don't know where they're getting it from other than datamining. There's an entire bestiary with almost no useful information which is functionally just a model viewer for all 700+ enemies. The only way to know anything is to experiment, which I guess at least adds some purpose to combat when you've filled out the bestiary for an area but still have to grid encounters- which will be required at some point, because fighting is the only way you get xp and money. There is also too much RNG. Critical hits being rare and certain attacks having a chance to cause Confusion or whatever is fine (although I'd prefer for attacks which are labelled as having a chance to inflict status effects to actually inflict the status effect way more often than they do) but why the fuck does the resurrection spell have a 50% success rate? Under what possible circumstances would I be using that spell other than needing my dead teammate back right now? Same for all the abilities on the skill tree that say "doesn't connect very often, but when it does it can cause a critical hit" OK that "CAN" is telling me that this ability which doesn't often connect won't even necessarily crit if it does. Why would I choose this ability? To handicap myself? How is this going to help me defeat the Timewyrm? All that said, when the combat is good it's really good, and whenever I lose a fight I'm thinking "I can win that next time if I do XYZ". The 2D battles are much less fun because the pace is much slower and there are no cute animations to liven it up, but it's always satisfying when the "flash" of an enemy taking damage becomes the "flash" of them disappearing, and you know you have slayed yet another blob. Non-combat gameplay is a mixed bag. The early-game fun of running around looking for new enemies to fight and fill out the bestiary wears off hard once act 2 begins and everything is either a reskin or a glowing-eyes "vicious" version of something you've already fought, and many maps are fairly sparse with just the odd treasure chest and locked door to liven up your path to the next area. That said, there are also several areas and dungeons which make a minigame out of traversing them; the Eerie Eyrie and the Battleground were standouts for me. Especially the remixed version of Eerie Eyrie you go to later on, where you get a flying mount to ride around. Crafting is surprisingly involved, with a whole minigame around it and hundreds of recipes to find all over the place. In most cases you can just use money in lieu of ingredients, which means minimal farming is required to get a lot out of the system, and the recipes with ingredients that can't be bought feel special instead of bullshit. In terms of items and recipes there really is a deluge of content- there are recipe books all over the place, with new ones available even in the last couple of maps that open up in the entire game, and there's an undeniable cookie-clicker rush you get from getting better at crafting and taking something you could barely get to +1 all the way to +3. I play games like this as a magpie, accumulating items with nice pictures and effects that make me do a 😲 face, and DQ11 certainly delivers. This even extends to character advancement, with Hidden Goodies incentivizing picking skills you might not want otherwise, and entire new skill trees opening up as quest rewards.

Overall, DQ11 is a good combat system with loot and progression systems that are well-executed enough to feel rewarding after 100 hours, all wrapped up in a style and tone that is not up my alley at all. A good litmus test for how much you'd like the game is probably: watch this scene and if you think it's the most epic thing you've ever seen then Dragon Quest 11 is for you.

[roadtohell]

@mynamesdrstuff​ thank you ur brain is so big, i had like 10 moments of revelation while writing this

A Labour of Love- or, How to Write a Song That Makes Me Want to Lie Facedown On The Floor

Four decades separates the respective rises of singer-songwriters Hozier and Bruce Springsteen, nearly as large as the gap between the worlds in which their public images reside. According to popular myth, the former is the tall, near-ethereal Bog Man, half in this life and half in the next, who rose from a fae-inhabited woodland after 1000 years of slumber to find he was able only to mourn his lost love through song; the other is the Boss, a hardy yet compassionate working-class hero permanently streaked with the blood and sweat of a marathon shift, toiling endlessly alongside the heart-stopping, pants-dropping, hard-rocking, earth-quaking, booty-shaking, Viagra-taking*, love-making, legendary E Street Band. The domains of fen and factory may appear to be irreconcilable, but in reality the musicians have many things in common:

Broadly speaking, they both create wildly variable mixes of folk and rock, often with particularly strong Irish and African-American influences.

Their lyrics are poetic and commonly reflect on social issues with a progressive voice.

Songs about romantic relationships typically portray them as complex and difficult but remain respectful, sometimes near worshipful, of women.

Their characters yearn, long, pine and crave more often than not.

They both really like to use religious imagery.

They enjoy and return notable amounts of wlw love.

Representative of many of these are Hozier’s “Work Song” and Springsteen’s “Maria’s Bed”, two songs with close thematic parallels. Each is ostensibly told from the perspective of an exhausted labourer who dreams of returning to his lover. In a twist, however, “Work Song” is a melancholic love story, while the upbeat “Maria’s Bed” is a subtle tale of death; the opposing moods are complex reflections of these underlying narratives. These songs have Hozier and Springsteen skilfully intertwine the concepts of love, death, freedom and spirituality, creating two deeply moving portrayals of desire** that never fail to eviscerate the listener after 10pm.

Though the songs differ in overall lyrical structure, the similarities in narrative are evident from the first few lines:

Boys, workin' on empty / Is that the kinda way to face the burning heat? / I just think about my baby / I'm so full of love I could barely eat

Been on a barbed wire highway forty days and nights / I ain’t complaining, it’s my job and it suits me right / I got a sweet soul fever rushing round my head / I’m gonna sleep tonight in Maria’s bed

The audience can gather that each character works in a harsh environment where they are exposed to the elements. Their work is likely in manual labour, but the details are skimmed over because the narrators don’t particularly want to think about the details. Pushed to their limits, each instead copes by preoccupying himself with thoughts of his lover, though it makes him literally lovesick.

I’d never want once from the cherry tree / ‘Cause my baby’s sweet as can be / She gives me toothaches just from kissing me

She gives me candy-stick kisses ‘neath a wolf-dog moon / A sweet breath and she’ll take you, mister, to the upper room

The worker recalls his lover’s kisses as being vibrantly sweet, sweeter than nature. So, too, is her company- in contrast to the grim situation he is currently in, she is something to be savoured. Sugar cravings, an innate biological compulsion, come to mind; his hankering for her is likewise deep-seated and out of his control.

The reason for such devotion, the narrator reveals, is that she saved his life at a time when he had already resigned himself to death. He believes he was undeserving of such a deed; Hozier describes “three days on a drunken sin… she never asked me once about the wrong I did,” while Springsteen’s character recounts being “burned by angels, sold wings of lead / then I fell in the roses and sweet salvation of Maria’s bed”. In other words, his state of ruin was at least partially self-made, and her care seemed completely inexplicable. He eagerly returns her love, perhaps feeling that it’s the least he owes- but he still doesn’t quite understand where it came from.

True to both songwriters’ styles, these lines are direct allusions to the idea of redemption in Christianity: God sheltering a faithful person from the literally hellish consequences of their wrongdoing, through no merit of their own. However, the worker is notably dismissive of traditional doctrine:

My babe would never fret none / About what my hands and my body done / If the Lord don’t forgive me / I’d still have my baby and my babe would have me

I’ve been out in the desert, yeah, doing my time / Searching through the dust for fool’s gold, looking for a sign / Holy man says “hold on, brother, there’s a light up ahead” / Ain’t nothing like the light that shines on me in Maria’s bed

His faith rests not in God but on his lover; she is his religion now. Her act of grace already gave him a new, better life- he doesn’t need biblical promises when her love is tantamount to anything heaven might offer. This implication conveys a staggering depth of feeling, particularly to a religiously raised listener. Spirituality is, at its core, emotional; combined with the values and customs of religion, it is a force that can exert incredible influence over a person. The worker doesn’t reject spirituality itself- it’s an intrinsic part of him- but he has put all that power in the hands of the one he adores. It may make him vulnerable to her (that’s love!), but he is certain that she will give him the strength he needs.

Theological redemption also has close ties with death, as its benefits aren’t meant to be reaped on earth. Instead, the love, glory and freedom that are promised are relegated to the afterlife. Historically, the presumed ecstasy of achieving this gave death a sexual connotation; after all, if a lover could take the spiritual place of God, then perhaps sex could take the role of death as a gateway to paradise, far away from a life of pain. Work Song embraces this analogy, explicitly linking spiritual fulfilment to the pleasure of sexual intimacy:

When I was kissing on my baby / And she put her love down, soft and sweet / In the low lamplight, I was free / Heaven and hell were words to me

The equally suggestive Maria’s Bed allows the audience to draw similar conclusions, but it accomplishes this using a far less serious method: regular mentions of the titular bed, wink-wink-nudge-nudge. Yet this light-hearted sauciness is something of a misdirection. It’s easy to gloss over the song’s references to water, but they are strong hints that support an alternative reading: Maria is not a woman, but a river***. The story, from this perspective, then becomes much more sombre- the worker is a dying or suicidal man who wishes to have his body laid at the bottom of a river that provided for him in life, and whose real desire is for the peace he hopes to find there in death.

Got on my dead man’s suit and smiling skull ring / Lucky graveyard boots and a song to sing / I keep my heart in my work, my troubles in my head / And I keep my soul in Maria’s bed

This darker interpretation arguably makes more sense than the face-value love story, as it resolves some figures of speech that otherwise seem out of place. Even so, the more obvious reading is no less meaningful****; in fact, the coexistence of these narratives is what makes Maria’s Bed an almost perfect thematic inverse to Work Song.

When my time comes around / Lay me gently in the cold dark earth / No grave can hold my body down / I’ll crawl home to her

Hozier uses the finality of death to illustrate the strength of a man’s desire for love- his narrator embraces his own passing as he is certain not even the most permanent of barriers can keep him from his lover. Springsteen, through the personification of the river, uses the language of romance to demonstrate how fervently a man might desire death- his narrator embraces his demise because it offers a reprieve from life, just like a lover would.

All that said, no amount of lyrical analysis will reveal the clearest point of contrast the songs have: their music.

Work Song primarily draws from blues and folk music, both of which have roots in historical work songs used to coordinate physical tasks as well as boost morale. Reflecting this musical heritage, instrumentation is fairly simple, with the steady rhythm of claps and piano chords punctuating hard. It is slow and heartfelt, almost mournful; though there’s no mention of time frame, the audience has the sense that the worker still has a long way to go before he can return to his lover.  This notion comes largely from the song’s circular structure. By ending with the same music it opened with, its story is also implied to finish at its beginning: with the men hard at work in the “burning heat”, and no true relief in sight. This is furthered by having little development over the course of the song- though iterations of the chorus are more intense than the verses, the arrangements underlying both sections barely change. The worker, it seems, is never quite far enough from his reality of hard labour, and never close enough to home.

On the other hand, Maria’s Bed is relentlessly optimistic, driven by a strong forward momentum. Where most modern songs have their choruses as their most powerful feature, here the wordless refrain (“hey hey, la la la li li li li”) acts more like a transition between verses, keeping the story moving. The jaunty fiddles that fade out are quite different to the introductory guitar and organ, suggesting the worker’s situation has developed for the better. In addition, the orchestration builds continually, only briefly pulling back before the music culminates in an extended musical outro. Many of the instruments work in counterpoint, each additional layer contributing to an air of an unrestrained joy that is further spurred on by Springsteen’s high hums and whoops. The linear musical direction and overall impression of good cowboy fun results in the feeling that, unlike the singer of Work Song, the narrator is already on his way to his heart’s desire- though, in light of the lyrics, what this actually means is somewhat ambiguous. Are those final echoes him moving out of earshot… or his ghost ascending to the “upper room” of heaven?

We may not know for sure how either of these stories end, but we can feel the aching hope for something better. This longing is an emotional line that runs all the way through both Springsteen and Hozier’s work, though it never seems to get old. Combined with explorations of love, faith, life, death- that’s why we return to their music again and again; they are experts at playing on old motifs and universal themes in new and creative ways, their crafted melodies and narratives touching wild and industrial hearts alike.

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

* I am legally obligated to include all these adjectives.

** Maria’s Bed seems to be sadly obscure even among fans; the one and only online forum discussion I have seen about the song refers to it as “not that deep”. Having written this whole essay- if Springsteen himself said that to me, I’d laugh in his face.

*** A random internet comment I can’t find anymore backs me up on this. It even specified that it was about the Santa Maria River in California, as quoted “from Bruce”. Obviously an infallible source 😊

**** It’s important that “[drinking] the cool clear waters” can totally be the description of oral sex you thought it was.

[ebullientbun]

Don’t Be  A Deuce Bag

Starring: tennis!Jin x Reader Genre: mildest angst if any, fluff, friends-to-lovers!au Word Count: 3.5k Warnings: someone gets hit in the balls, slight swearing, lots of tennis jargon A/N: this is originally for the Sports!AU August prompt by @btsboulangerie, but I had a feeling that I won’t be able to finish it in time yeet

Summary: You and Jin are doubles partners, though you dream of being more than that. But doubles partners communicate, and Jin has been giving you the silent treatment. You need to get to the bottom of it. 

The general public would always see tennis as some sort of elite sport, a hobby that rich people enjoy  in their free time if they weren’t on a golf course. But they never consider the level of strategy, technique, and effort that goes into playing a match in competitive tennis, thinking that it’s just for players needlessly grunting as they hit the ball or dramatically falling into a split running towards a fast ball. But you found it to be more than that.

You found a home with the people with you on the tennis court. You’ve made your first friends in high school with these people, driving to and fro from away matches to all day tournaments. You’ve spent countless hours at dawn or late at night practicing drills with each other. 

And you’ve discovered your love to be on the court. You first joined the team not expecting much, already knowing that you’ll be accepted onto the team since they were in constant need of female members, but you genuinely created a unique bond with each and every single one of them. 

Not too long after your singles match, you plop down on the bleachers next to your best friend, Sooyoung. Snatching your fourth fruit snack packet from your tennis bag, you begin fueling yourself with sugar as you watch the other ongoing matches. You brighten, nudging Sooyoung on the shoulder. “Oh my god, look at Taehyung over there, third court”. 

She turns, squealing excitedly. “He’s wearing a headband! Ugh, he’s so hot.” She leans forward to read the scoreboard, squinting. “He’s losing against Jimin, though.”

You hum. “Somehow, being frustrated is low-key making him hotter.” You watch as he wipes his forehead with a towel before tossing it on the bench; you sigh longingly. “I’d let him eat my ass like a cupcake anytime.” Sooyoung giggles at your comment, playfully shoving you in embarrassment. 

“Can you not talk about our opponent like that? You’re rooting for the wrong team,” a voice sounds from behind you. 

Kim Seokjin. Your doubles partner since you’ve joined the team and made you fall in love with the game. Instead of going through the motions, you felt a combination of excitement and anxiety during every match with him because he’s made it something to build yourself for.

You whip your head around, glaring at doubles partner. “Mind your own business, Jin. It’s legal to thirst.”

He rolls his eyes, before paying his attention back to the match on the first court. 

Your relationship with Seokjin was nothing short of incessant bickering. You first got to know each other when you were filling up the team’s water jug as a newbie, and upon struggling to hold it up as it got heavier, he had come to the rescue to help out. Your coach saw the both of you as an opportunity for a mixed doubles team, since none of the other members wanted to be part of it and you both were getting along well.  You both gave it a shot - having a position from the coach is better than being benched.

He easily gets on your nerves. He’s a gentleman, yet has a hankering of complaining. When you aim a ball too far and it lands out, suddenly he’s a know it all and tries to correct you for it. But when he makes a mistake, suddenly it’s the wind’s fault! You have to admit, he did help you with your form when you struggled with your backhand stroke back then.

All of that is tolerable when you consider the amount of synergy the both of you have on the court together. While you’re known for dominating at the net, Seokjin was known for keeping long rallies at the baseline. Was he garbage at the net? Sure. But you’ve been mixed doubles partners for the past couple years and have figured out a routine that worked. Playing with a different partner never interested you when you both knew each other’s playing styles so well. 

That, and you had a small crush on him. Only a teeny one.

You offer him one of your fruit snacks, and he happily plucks one from the pouch. “Which court are we playing on soon?”

Seokjin nods towards the other section of courts, “Court 7, after Jeon’s finished playing.”

“We have a good advantage then, he’ll be too tired after the singles match to have enough energy for our match right after,” you comment. 

Seokjin scoffs, “As if. He’s a powerhouse; he’ll just chug a Gatorade and go back at it again.” 

“Who’s his partner again?”

“Yerim, I think.”

You groan. “No way, I hate that bitch! I just played her in singles and she slices every other ball.”

Seokjin hums pensively, “At least we have that advantage of how she plays.”

You nod, crumpling up your now empty fruit snack pouch and tossing it into the trash can. “Yeah, we’ll be fine.”

.             

Things were not fine. 

As Seokjin predicted, Jungkook was a monster and did not resist holding back slamming the ball towards you every time. It’s a dirty tactic to aim solely for the female opponent, but luckily for you and your partner, you were more fearless to his fastballs. 

What you did not expect was cheating. 

Your match is on the third set, both sides tiring out with a close score. Seokjin and you are in the lead 4-3. Currently, Jungkook is serving to Seokjin, while you are positioned near the net. Seokjin had been rallying cross-court with Jungkook for a while, but the angles were too wide for either of you or Yerim to poach from the net. With quick strategy, Seokjin abruptly rallies the ball straight, into a wide open area that Yerim, expecting another diagonal rally, fails to block. You figure it’s a clean win on the point, but Yerim holds up her pointer finger in the air.

“Out.”

...What?

Both you and Seokjin freeze. Mid high five too. You snap your head towards her. 

“...That was in the line.” You walk closer to her at the net. 

“No,” she argues, “it was close but it landed outside the double lines.” She crosses her arms and walks over to the area near where the ball landed and points with her racket at a spot out of bounds.

Oh, hell no. She didn’t even see where the ball landed, she isn’t even facing towards it. 

You gape in disbelief, turning towards Jungkook. “Are you sure?” 

Jungkook bites his lip, looking from you and Seokjin to his partner, before replying, “Yes.”

The audacity. You could feel the steam coming out of your ears. You are this close to childishly throwing a tantrum and asking for a referee, but you stop upon feeling a firm grasp on your shoulder.

“Whatever you’re thinking, don’t,” Seokjin mutters, glaring at them for good measure. “We are not going to stoop to their level if this is how they want to play.”

“This is the third time she’s called one of our ‘in’ balls ‘out’, and we’re just gonna sit here and let that happen? Your ball was obviously within the line,” you hiss. You want to smack that snooty look off her face.

Seokjin furrows his eyebrows, frustrated as well - most of the balls Yerim called were his. “Play fair and stay calm. We don’t want to make rash mistakes and slam the next few points into the net.”

You take in a deep inhale, before huffing. Offering your doubles partner a stiff high five, you get back into position for the next point.

Jungkook serves the ball to you, noticing how you rally back but don’t approach the net immediately as you usually would. He subtly starts closing towards the net, but you internally smirk - he was going to drop a short ball on your side. 

As expected, he slices the next rally directly down the middle of the court, Seokjin frantically trying to poach the ball but missing. But you’re ready.

“Mine!” You rush towards the net, and with all of the pent up anger inside of you, you slam a forehand ball straight at Jeon Jungkook’s crotch. 

Without enough time to react, Jungkook fails to block the fast ball and crumples to the ground. “Oh fuck!”

Yerim gasps, running to him and hollering for a time out. Jungkook, in all of his beautiful and wincing glory, lays in a fetal position in the middle of the court.

You turn your body away from them so they don’t see, but more importantly so Seokjin can see you. “For you, Jin,” you wink at him with a smug smile on your face. 

Seokjin, who had mild concern for the poor boy, stares at you in bewilderment. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” Then, he bursts into a chuckle and offers you a low fist bump. “That's my girl.” 

If you had known any better, you would think that his eyes were twinkling in the slightest bit. Your heart, in addition to the adrenaline, flip flops excitedly at the endearment. 

.

In the end, you both still lost.

It wasn’t too surprising, but you both still had hope that by hurting Jungkook to his friend downstairs, you would have an advantage by winning only two more games. But, no. It appears that it just fueled the rage monster that unleashed within Jeon Jungkook and you lost three games in a row. Nonetheless, you and Seokjin took it in stride, already accepting upon walking onto the court that a loss wouldn’t be too bad as long as both of you did your best. Seokjin seemed just fine when you both walked off the court after the match to report to your coach. 

.

However, now, Seokjin is a brat to you. 

It’s a regular practice day, and instead of doing warm up laps around the courts with you like he normally does, he elects to chat next to Irene instead. 

Ok, sure. Whatever. Not like you were obligated to warm up together, you suppose. You slow the pace of your lunges until Sooyoung catches up with you, falling into pace with her. 

Sooyoung, despite heaving from trying to pick up the pace with the rest of the team, cocks her head in your direction. “Oh? Why aren’t you with Seokjin?”

You shrug, sparing a glance in his direction before sighing. “I don’t know, maybe he had something to talk about with Irene.”

Sooyoung frowns, nudging you on the shoulder with her elbow. “Then don’t pout, it’s probably nothing.”

You’re about to respond when your coach blows his whistle, indicating to everyone to warm up with a partner for half court rallies. You turn and begin to walk towards Seokjin, but you pause once you see him completely ignore you and beeline straight for your team captain, Jung Hoseok.

Hoseok’s eyes widen in surprise when Seokjin approaches him, nodding carefully while briefly holding eye contact with you as Seokjin speaks with him.

“Uh,” You turn back around, grabbing Sooyoung by the wrist, “can you practice with me today?”

Sooyoung furrows her eyebrows, frowning further upon seeing your doubles partner head towards a court with Hoseok to practice. “Sure.”

As if that wasn’t weird enough, he was in a mood during the practice games as well. He didn’t even acknowledge you when you sought him out, only following you on the court as you played against your teammates. You tsk when he brushes past you to place his water bottle on the benches. 

If he wasn’t going to talk to you, you’re just going to act like nothing is happening. 

But that was becoming increasingly difficult. He wouldn’t talk strategy with you, much less offer you a high five between points, and it was messing up your flow in the game. You missed more of your serves than usual, even your second serves. Seokjin would look increasingly annoyed whenever you miss a ball, and you’re already hanging on a tight leash. 

Seokjin is getting ready to serve for the next game, and he calls your name before passing you an extra ball to hold. You try to decline, but he’s already thrown it your way. 

“Jin, can you just roll this ball to the corner?”

“Just keep it in your pockets like earlier?”

“In my pock- I don’t have pockets, Jin!” You yell back, throwing the ball back at him. “Female uniforms don’t have pockets.”

Seokjin squinted. “If you don’t have pockets, how are you holding the extra ball?”

You scoff, “We are not as blessed to have long pockets like you guys, so we stick it in our underwear!” You gleam upon seeing his face go from irritable to mortified. “That’s right, the tennis balls you’re touching? Probably has female sweat from being lodged between our hip and our underwear all the time. But guess what!” You don’t even give him time to respond. “I forgot to wear decent underwear, and unfortunately, a g-string does not hold the ball in place, so I’m having a bit of a hard time running around with a ball sliding down my shorts!”

Your teammate across the court clears his throat. “Uh… can we continue the game?” 

You hold a finger in the air, “Yeah, one sec.” You turn back to Seokjin, feeling more angry as you look at him. “And if we did have pockets, they wouldn’t even hold the ball properly. So don’t you dare complain to me about not wanting to hold the extra ball for you while you serve, you privileged asshole! I don’t know why you’re cranky today, but either talk to me about it or don’t take it out on me!”

You huff, turning back around and standing in position at the net, swallowing in awkwardness at your argument with your doubles partner. Regardless, your other teammates also slowly get back into position and the game continues with a tense atmosphere.

.

You catch Hoseok at the end of practice trying to lock the courts while juggling the box of tennis balls in his other arm. “Hey, Cap! Let me help.” You jog up to him, grabbing the box from him as he finishes locking up.

He scratches the back of his neck sheepishly, “Thanks. I could’ve set it down but for some reason I was making it harder on myself.”

“All good, see you tomorrow at practice!” You hand him back the box and prepare to head for the girls’ locker room when you feel a tug on your shoulder.

“Actually,” Hoseok starts, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about Seokjin.”

You bristle, “And what about him?”

Hoseok looks at you pointedly, “don’t give me that look. You know as my duty as team captain I have to keep you all in check, but I’ve been getting a couple of comments from some teammates that you’ve both been fighting a lot lately.” You want to interrupt but Hoseok stops you with a glare. “I know it’s none of my business to enter into people’s affairs, but this is making some of the members uncomfortable, hell, I’m uncomfortable because I don’t like practicing with Jin. That lobbying bastard.”

You chuckle, knowing how much people aren’t used to rallying with him like you’ve been for the past few years. 

Hoseok smiles, “Just talk it out with him. Please. You can probably catch him since he’s just gone to the locker room. I don’t want to have to seek you out again, but I will if I have to.”

You jokingly salute at him, making your way to the locker room again. This time in a bit of a hurry. “Aye aye, captain.”

.

You pace quickly up the stairs to the locker room, hoping that Seokjin hadn’t gone home already. Just as you reach the top, you catch him leaving the boys’ locker room at the end of the hall. “Jin! Wait up!” You perk up once he stops in his tracks, jogging faster towards him. “Hey,” you pant slightly, “can we talk?”

Seokjin quirks his mouth to the side, thinking pensively for a moment before nodding. 

You fall into step with Seokjin, trailing beside him as the both of you walk towards the exit. It was silent for the first few minutes, but those minutes were killing you. “Okay, I’m not gonna beat around the bush, why were you ignoring me today?”

Seokjin scoffs, unsurprised by your frankness. “I’m not ignoring you.”

“You’re not-oh don’t be a fucking liar now,” you hiss. “You didn’t do the warm-ups with me and you were being especially crabby during practice.”

“If anything, you’re the one that’s being crabby.” 

You gasp, “you have the nerve. You know what I’m talking about.”

Seokjin groans, readjusting the tennis bag strap on his shoulder. “Look, I can make buddies with other people on the team, too, y’know?” 

“This was different,” you whine. “What did I do wrong?”

Seokjin stops in place, forcing you to halt and stare at him. “Do you consider me as a friend?”

“Of course,” you reply immediately.

“But… only as a friend?”

Your heartbeat stops briefly. “Wh… what do you mean?”

Seokjin stands there, un-answering but intensely holding your gaze. You want to avert your eyes elsewhere, feeling too overwhelmed by his stare and the possible meanings behind his words. You nearly combust on the spot when he slowly raises his hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. 

You sputter, “D-Do you…?”

Seokjin smiles sadly, placing his hand back in his pocket. “I guess you could say I was jealous earlier.” Upon seeing you frown in confusion, he continues, “Before the other school left the other day, I saw Taehyung exchange numbers with you. And you… you seemed pretty into him. It was a bit frustrating to see.”

Your mouth was left gaping, opening and closing like a fish. He was jealous? So that meant, he likes you? Or does he not like your fraternizing with the enemy?

Seokjin sighs at your silence, turning to begin walking again. 

You’re stuck in place, trying to absorb this new information. But wait, he’s gone out the door. You haul ass to chase after him. 

“Wait!” You holler at him, even though he didn’t gain that much distance from him. “Stop!”

Seokjin groans loudly, “What do you want from me?” 

You catch up to him once again, tugging on the sleeve of his shirt. “You like me?”

Seokjin shakes his head, and you think you might cry on the spot for somehow misunderstanding him. “I can’t believe I have to confirm with you when it is so obvious.” He leans forward to flick you on the forehead. You whine, clasping sadly at your unnoticeable wound. “Yes, dummy. I like you, and I was so sure you felt the same way, but I guess I’m wrong.”

“EH??” You’re feeling a lot of emotions all over again, but on the bright side, you’re glad that the main one is happiness. 

Seokjin scratches the back of his head, unsure if your reaction to this new revelation is good or bad. “Well, Hoseok told me that maybe you just exchanged numbers as friends, so I chilled out.” He starts to fiddle with the zipper on his shirt. “But then I overheard you talking to Irene about him outside the locker rooms. I asked her earlier if you were like, serious with him or something. And she just laughed in my face.” He pouts at that.

You almost laugh, almost. “I do, though. Like you, I mean. I exchanged numbers just to do it, but I didn’t have any real feelings towards Taehyung. At least not like the ones I have for you…” It feels weird to say out loud, and you feel like your heart is pounding way too hard in your chest. You aren’t even looking at Seokjin at this point, but aimlessly staring at trees. 

You yelp as you’re harshly tugged forward, darting your eyes to the hands that grasped yours and then to the owner, who has a beaming smile on his face.

“Come on,” Seokjin chuckles, pulling you to the direction of his car in the parking lot. 

“Where are we going?”

“Our first date. I know you have nothing better to do.”

You almost kick him in the shin for that. Almost means you attempted, but his long legs maneuver too fast for you to keep up. Seokjin laughs boisterously, dodging your attacks.

Although fake-upset at him, you smile along with him, intertwining your fingers together.

[veinsandknuckles]

It's a bad life if you don't weaken, pt 5 (Tallahassee/Reader)

You had found a house. You’d found plenty of houses along the way, but this one looked especially promising with its two stories, a tall foundation that left the front door as the only entrance you’d need to guard, wide fields spreading out in every direction to lay bare anyone, dead or alive, who might try to sneak up on you. There were old tire marks in the soil running towards and away from the building, the latest set belonging to a car parked awkwardly against a wall with leaves and debris scattered on the roof - no one living was staying here.

Tallahassee tried to kick in the door and made a wonderful scene when it swung open without any effort, leaving him to land face first on the hallway carpet.

He looked so baffled and crestfallen when he got back to his feet that the three of you laughed at him even harder and he turned tail and ran on into the house until he found a door that hadn’t already been kicked in by some other survivor. You heard a crash, boots running across wooden floors, then another crash. Columbus and Little Rock entered after him and fanned out like a well practiced SWAT team to make sure Tallahassee’s display hadn’t awakened anything.

You carried in the bags, pushed the door back into its frame and secured it with the hallway cabinet and, gun at the ready, went to explore the next floor up. Those fools were making a lot of noise down there but you were sure by now that the house was empty. Thanks to their eager bad-ass antics, you had first choice of bedrooms.

Tallahassee came up the stairs once he’d gotten some of the smashing out of his system and he froze in the doorway to the master bedroom, his grin twisting into a mask of utter grief.

“No,” he breathed.

You were sprawled on the king-size bed, arms crossed behind your head, legs stretched out and luxuriating on the soft sheets. With a smile, you made the bed bounce and there wasn’t so much as a squeak of complaint from the springs. Three of you could have fit on the bed without brushing up against each other. “Oh yeah,” you purred. “This house was a great pick, Tallahassee - I can really see us making ourselves at home here.”

The other two finally caught on to what was happening and followed close behind. Little Rock elbowed Tallahassee aside and cursed at you. “Come on! I’m not sleeping on the floor again - Tallahassee, tell her.”

“Oh, wow,” came Columbus’ voice from somewhere down the hall, “this room is so nice! Hm, doilies.”

Little Rock bolted immediately and through the walls you could hear her flinging herself onto the bed in there and shouting “dibs!”

Tallahassee’s face was dark, and he glanced towards where your hand rested on your gun. “I could have you over my shoulder and out of here quicker’n you could get the safety off of that thing, missy.” He drew himself up with injured dignity and pressed a hand to his chest. “But I... am a gentleman. A gentleman with a sore neck and aching muscles and very long limbs.”

You raised your eyebrows and wondered if you could bring him back to the idea of lifting you up bodily. “Yes, that’s what we all call you behind your back. Gentleman.”

He shook his head. “You know, I give you kids everything I have and I get nothin’ but lip in return. I despair of your generation.”

Tallahassee did that a lot, drew attention to his own age and the gap between his and yours. He was welcome to fish for reassurance about his own all he wanted and you usually obliged, but lumping you in with the other two?  “Watch who you call a kid. Columbus makes me feel ancient by comparison.”

He looked at you oddly before he smiled. “Figure of speech, sweetheart.” Something made him pause, as if he was weighing up his options. Then he sighed with exaggerated melancholy. “Well... if you won’t take pity on me, I’d better find somewhere else to bunk up.” Tallahassee touched the brim of his hat to you and walked off with his duffel bag slung over his shoulder before you could gather up the nerve to point out the bed was wide enough to fit both of you. ----

In the end, there were enough bedrooms to go around and then some - this house had obviously belonged to a real old fashioned country family. No one wanted to speculate further than this in any real way, but Little Rock made fun of all the framed photographs she found and amused herself by throwing them out the window, trying to hit the roof of the old abandoned car. Maybe she was working through something.

The other survivor(s) hadn’t stayed here long enough to ruin much. Their footprints had stained some carpets and there were broken egg shells and empty packets of food clogging the kitchen sink, but all of that would have expired by now in any case and in the cabinets there were cans, spices and nonperishables galore. There was also a corpse in the sitting room, but it was the still sort, so you pulled on some long rubber gloves, grabbed the edges of the rug it was lying on and dragged it, half wrapped up like a perversely over-stuffed burrito, slowly out and down the front stairs.

There were a few offers of help, but you wanted to stay busy so you declined, found a bucket and some soap, opened all the windows wide and eventually with a lot of elbow grease and retching, got the worst of the stink and the goo out. Tallahassee kept himself busy and alone in the rest of the house doing something mysterious, Columbus and Little Rock split up to rest a while and came together in the kitchen to cook and after a good few hours of quiet, hard work you felt your stomach rumble as the smell of death was replaced by the (honestly speaking, only barely) preferable smell of food.

It was amazing how quickly the unacceptable became commonplace - if you couldn’t learn to build an appetite with maggots crawling on your hands, you would have starved a long time ago.

When it was all done, the four of you sat down exhausted on the porch to the first hot meal you’d had in ages. The table was covered by an old sheet, there were wild flowers in a jug of water, there were beers to drink and the already empty bottles held flickering candles that picked up some of the slack from the setting sun. Someone, perhaps all three of them, had obviously had a hankering for the domestic and right now it didn’t seem like the sort of thing that any of you wanted to mock.

Tallahassee had gone to work with hammer, nails and whatever wood he could find and had already boarded up most of the windows that could be reached on the first floor. Everything that could and should be done today had been done and there was as much stillness and safety now that there would ever be again. In short, this was exactly the time when at least one person would be gearing up for a breakdown. The silence around the table could be excused while everyone was still ravenous and busy shoving the weird combinations of pickles, spam, noodles and preserves into their mouths but it worried you when things slowed down and there was still no talking. Something had to be done.

“Anyone feel like they’re going nuts?”

Well, that made them sit up. Columbus coughed and Tallahassee froze, fork half way to his open mouth.

Little Rock sighed. “I mean, yeah. Obviously.”

“You ever gone proper camping, like strapped into a heavy rucksack?” You addressed the question to her since she’d made the mistake of replying first.

“Ew, no. I had better things to do than subject myself to ‘nature’.”

Tallahassee kicked her chair under the table and she jolted and gave him the finger.

“Well,” you pressed on. “My point is, when you take the pack off and sit down, that’s when you feel how tired you are. And it’s almost impossible to lift the thing back up again after.”

Silence descended again. No one looked like they disagreed with you or were in doubt of what you were getting at. After a moment, Tallahassee opened another bottle with his teeth, took a drink, belched and said, “that’s a fair point, princess, a good analogy.” There was no knowing whether he meant it or if he was being sarcastic.

“You’re saying we shouldn’t get comfortable here,” said Columbus. He hadn’t looked away from you since you started talking, which was rare for him.

“No... we’ve got plenty of supplies, this place looks safe enough and the propane tank is almost full. I think we need to rest. I’m just worried, if we’re not focusing on moving and surviving...”

“Well, my plan,” Tallahassee said and leaned back in his chair, “and you’re more’n welcome to join me, is to get absolutely, incoherently, pants-shittingly hammered. Ain’t nothing in this world can’t be solved by drinking.”

“Drinking what? Did you find liquor and just... hide it from the rest of us?”

He smiled and trailed his fingers lazily up and down the neck of his beer bottle, and you’d gotten completely off the subject but everyone was talking and ready to strangle Tallahassee, so for the moment at least the crisis was averted.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he drawled. “Bet you wish you’d given me the master bedroom now...”

“That’s such a great plan, Tallahassee,” said Little Rock, each word dripping with insincerity and with only lemonade in her glass. “And are you finally going to let me have some? I mean, I can find other ways to let off steam, if you think that’s better. I still say your hat could use some glitter... who knows what I’ll get up to while you’re passed out in a pool of your own vomit.”

Tallahassee drew himself up, puffed out his chest and held on tight to his hat. “I swear to God, you so much as touch this hat and I’ll show you what your own kidneys look like.”

“I’m practically 13! Give me a goddamn beer!”

“Actually, you’ve got almost another three months.” Columbus looked thoughtful. “Wow, I’d better start looking out for some toy stores...”

“Toy stores? Are you deaf? I’m a teenager.”

“Hah!” Tallahassee cackled. “Give me a break - you’re barely out of your diapers. Oughta get you some velcro shoes, I’m sick to death of watching you struggle with your laces.”

Little Rock turned her indignation back on Tallahassee and he welcomed it with open arms.

You’d never articulated this thought to yourself before, but he really did rile people up on purpose and you were beginning to see why. It might very well have started as a way to keep them at arm’s length, but he had another reason now - better they were angry at him than sad. Or numb. As the saying went: don’t mourn, organise against the idiot who hogs the booze and farts on your pillow ‘to remind you of home’. It wasn’t a very nice favour he was doing them but you couldn’t help feeling cheated that he never needled you the same way. It’d at least meant he was giving you some attention.

...Christ, you must be getting desperate indeed if that’s was the sort of attention you were willing to settle for.

“Tallahassee.” Columbus’ voice was soft but firm, and he glanced over at you. “Bring us your stash and pour Little Rock a very small drink.”

“Make me.”

“I don’t have to make you. You’re outnumbered. I favor a nice merlot, myself, but I will settle for whatever you’ve got.”

[themockingcrows]

Cult of the Tainted Rose

This fic is Not Safe For Work As Hell

cw: vaginal fingering, anal fingering, oral sex, anal sex, sex pollen, polyamory, Beta ot4, dubious consent, strap ons, pegging, vaginal sex

THIS FIC IS AVAILABLE ON MY AO3!

When Jade and Rose decide to combine a scientifically engineered rose specimen with the best of black magics to see what would happen, they wind up with more than they bargained for.

    “You don’t need to be gentle with it, this isn’t something that’s going to fall apart if you touch it! Promise!” Jade said with a hearty smile as Rose investigated the flower in front of her.

    It was gorgeous really, a supple white rose with subtle blue blush to it, deeper near the stem and softest at the tip. The thorns looked razor sharp and the petals soft as clouds, so Rose still hesitated before she reached out to stroke them. They were solid under her fingers, but just as soft as she’d imagined, leaving her to sigh gratefully when the petals didn’t break off into her hand like she feared they would somehow.

    “See? Told ya,” Jade said proudly, dusting soil off her hands and onto the edges of her jeans before she remembered the smock and rubbed there instead. “It’s my best specimen yet! I’m gonna crossbreed it with a lot of others soon to see what it can bring to the gene pool as far as resilience goes. So far not even bugs have been an issue!”

    “...And that’s why you wanted to run the experiment on this one,” Rose concluded as she poked the tip of a thorn cautiously, sucking on her finger right afterwards when it inevitably stung a droplet of blood from her.

    “Precisely. This is the best science can make so far,” Jade said, coming closer to the pot to stroke the flower like a pet, smile fond. “I wanted to see what the best magic can make with that.”

    “I’d hardly say mine is the best magic, especially compared to others,” Rose said with a smirk. “But I’ll take the compliment.”

    Jade leaned over and kissed Rose on the lips, transplanting some of her dark lipstick onto her own mouth before she pulled back. “You’d better take that compliment! Who else would I trust with one of my precious plants?”

    “I’m not responsible if this goes south and kills this sample,” Rose said with pursed lips as she thought. “It’s possible that the spell could sap everything out of it to fuel itself. ...You do have a spare right?”

    “Of course, I’ve got other samples from it, and I’ve already got more seedlings going in the trays,” Jade said, rubbing her mouth finally when she realized the texture felt different. Ignoring the dark smudge on her arm she gestured to the rest of the greenhouse. “We’re going to be doing this indoors, not out here, by the way. I don’t want the other babies to be affected if something goes wrong.”

    “Of course, of course,” Rose said, already going over in her mind what might work. Letting the magic do as it wished seemed to be the best option… though, with dark magics, that could be a bit risky to say the least. “And you just want to see what will happen anyway. There’s no set goal?”

    “Precisely. I just want to see what happens with the best science rose meets Rose’s magic! It’s like a rose squared in a way, just a lot cooler,” she said, smirking at her own joke when Rose herself rolled her eyes. Apparently John wasn’t the only one with a propensity for shitty jokes in that family tree, how could she keep forgetting.

    “Alright then. I think I know how to get this show on the road, shall we head inside?”

    Jade whooped excitedly before plucking up the carefully tended pot and leading the way out of the greenhouse and into the house. The living room seemed to be the best place for this to take place, being the larger room, and should anything go wrong the wooden floors would be fairly easy to clean. Hopefully. Dark magic was a bit hard to plan around sometimes, she just hoped it wasn’t an inky explosion of some kind, unless Jade was secretly hankering for black flooring all at once.

    The flower was placed front and center with prominence on the coffee table, but its proximity to the many other flowering plants in the living room gave Rose pause as she fished her wands out from her bag. “Remember that whole ‘what if the plant gets killed’ thing? What do I do if it goes after these instead?”

    “These can be replaced, even if I’d be a little sad,” Jade said. “They’re mostly garden variety things, the harder to replace things are in the greenhouse already. If these wither.. Well. It’ll free up pots for some NEW plants! It’s a win/win!”

    Rose shook her head but smiled fondly. This was just one of the reasons they all loved Jade so much. She was the only one of them that could keep things growing and alive, the one who could revive plants from the garbage and make them into prize winners in mere months. Her spice garden was unrivaled, and even her mint was carefully controlled. Everything she touched seemed to turn green and colorful with lush blossoms in no time at all… it was quite the power to witness over time, and it was hard to tell if it was the science, the natural green thumb, or the way she gave daily concerts and readings to all of the plants in her care that made them grow so well.

    Had to be the love.

    With her wands ready, Rose took a few steps back and pondered her target once more, trying to clear her thoughts to commune properly. What would the Old Ones do with a plant… It was kind of a thrilling prospect, the more she considered it. “You might want to step back,” Rose warned, “I’m not quite sure what’s going to happen. I’m going to just lash out at it and see what comes.”

    “Waaaay ahead of you,” Jade said, popping up from behind the sofa to give a thumbs up before ducking back down.

    Wetting her lips, Rose turned and grasped her wands more firmly before closing her eyes and breathing slowly in and out, clearing her mind. Listening… listening for the whispers of the old tongues she’d listened to so closely before for answers and guidance. They came to her eventually, cold and dark but comforting, soothing, a hand stroking down her back like a cat being pet as she returned to something that felt like home.

    The stroking didn’t stop there, though. Her mind wandered a bit, the sensitive patting feeling akin to touching the rose earlier. Thoughts intertwined and flickered before she could control it, yonic imagery of the flower overlapping with herself. Rose squared. Someone touching her as she’d touched the rose, touching her sensitive petals, petals that wouldn’t break if you got a little rough. The hand down her back felt like it flitted between her legs when she finally opened her eyes and cast the magic that had accumulated.

    Was it too soon? Too late? Hard to tell, but it felt good to cast this spell. Better than she’d anticipated it would feel to cast after so long of not just letting the magic do as it pleased. She felt powerful in ways she didn’t normally think possible, dangerous, beautiful beyond compare… and when she came to her senses, that all seemed to have been passed on to the flower. It’s soft blue hue looked electric now, stimulated and further bloomed than it had been before, larger. It glowed softly, as if a black light were shining over it from somewhere out of view, ghostly and unnatural yet sumptuously appealing. She wanted to touch it again, to stroke it, to see if it was still as soft as before. Without a second thought, Rose transferred her right hand’s wand to her left and reached the then empty hand out to stroke the petals ever so gently.

    The flower erupted with a soft puff of barely visible pollen the second she touched it, rising high into the air and spreading with the soothing scent of roses and fresh water. Jade popped up from behind the sofa not a moment later, wanting to see what had happened after the flash of light she’d seen go off like a flashbulb so close by.

    “Rose? Did it work? What’s… oh wow,” she said softly, jumping over the back of the sofa to come get a close look, adjusting her glasses. The smell of roses and fresh water was intense, but not unpleasant. It was like a perfume applied to perfectly washed skin, all encompassing and welcoming to partake of. “I’m going to need to take some samples to look at this under the microscope. Magic under a microscope! Can you imagine?” she said excitedly, looking upt to Rose to see her reaction.

    The reaction she caught was Rose lurching towards her to kiss her full on the mouth as if she were starved for it. Jade squeaked, startled, and it was just enough for Rose’s tongue to part her lips and gouge deep. Their breaths both grew ragged within moments, as one thing became abundantly clear: standing still was not an option. Permeated with the scent of roses, Jade reached up to grab Rose by the shirt before yanking her forwards and back, thudding down on the ground on her own back before rolling to pin the blonde down, waves of her long dark hair covering them both as they kissed like life would stop existing should they stop.

    It was an obvious next step to start shedding layers. The only thoughts in their minds were More, Now, Warm, Wet, and Sex. God, the sex. It seemed so important suddenly. The only important thing in the world was to have sex right then, right there, or surely the world would implode. Off went Rose’s shirt before she pulled back from the kiss and abandoned her wands to the side like common sticks to wrestle the larger girl off her and onto her back instead, hands fussing with the front of her jeans even as her hips rocked against the curve of Jade’s well muscled thighs to get a bit of friction underneath her skirt.

    They fought this way till the layers were all off and each was bare as a newborn, winding up face to face on their knees with their legs spread, each with a hand between the other’s thighs, rubbing at the wet slits they found with greedy fingers. Jade had to bend her back slightly to accomodate a kiss, taller than Rose by a good amount, and it made her breasts hang at such a nice level that Rose couldn’t help but break that kiss to feast instead. She teased a nipple with her tongue, with her teeth till it was hard, peppering Jade’s dark skin with her black lipstick in gaudy smudged lines as she went from one side to the other to suckle till she shivered and shook. The wetness on Rose’s fingers became more pronounced as she rubbed, finally urging her to slip a finger inside. When one proved to be insufficient, she placed two inside up to the middle knuckle, gasping when Jade’s larger fingers did the exact same thing without warning.

    The sounds were lewd and wet as they worked out a tempo, Rose’s hand going quicker when it was apparent that was what Jade wanted and liked most, Jade’s going slower when she noticed how hard Rose liked to grind on her palm when she got close to a certain spot inside of her. They shook, finding it hard to stay still, hard to stay in place. This couldn’t last, they needed to keep moving, needed to do more. Needed more.

    Rose was the one who broke position first, removing her fingers from Jade’s entrance and slipping them between her own dark lips while looking up at her with hazy eyes, tongue swirling till everything was clean to give an idea of what she wanted to do. Jade’s hand withdrawing, though hesitantly, at least seemed to be permission enough. Moving forward to put pressure on Jade’s shoulders, Rose pushed her backwards, back towards the couch till she got the picture and stood to go take a seat, shimmying herself to the edge as Rose crawled closer, a hungry demon in disguise ready to pray at the altar of sweet flesh before her.

    Black kiss marks started at Jade’s navel before peppering lower, barely there outlines as the residue finally disappeared over the top of her pubic hair, lower and lower still till her tongue traced the pink nub of clitoris and began to suckle mercilessly.

    It was intense, too much in fact, but Jade wasn’t about to tell her to stop. Instead, she arched her back and gasped, knees splaying wider reflexively as her toes curled, long legs awkwardly hovering in place before Rose reached up and clasped at either side of her thighs and pulled her close. Squeeze all you want, the touch said. Such a pretty pair of earmuffs should be worn with pride.

    With the teasing over, Rose went lower and traced her tongue over the outer edges of Jade’s labia, flatly lapping over the ridges of her inner lips with a groan to get another taste of what had been on her fingers moments earlier. Unable to help herself, she finally slipped her tongue inside and swirled it about, sampling all she pleased, slowing only when she glanced up to check the beautiful view of Jade’s back arched and her mouth open, white, uneven teeth on full display. The moans were delicious as she was, and Rose went back to her task with gusto, one hand slipping down between her own thighs to stroke and rub at herself needily.

    She needed… more. She needed a bit more for this to feel as good as possible. She’d kill for her toys from home, even if it was just the one with  the suction cup. The idea of impaling herself on something large while making Jade cry out and spasm like this was appealing enough that Rose moaned with want, twitching. She came, hard, and focused through the mind numbing effect just enough to keep edging Jade along towards her own release.

    More ambrosia for the greedy blonde, a thumb rubbing at Jade’s clitoris as she suckled and lapped away at her target, but… it wasn’t enough.

    More.

    Needed more.

    The thought was terribly urgent now, and though neither knew it, the same thoughts were running through each other’s minds, carried on the heavy scent of roses and fresh water and the smell of sex.

    More.

    Without a word, Jade stood up like a sleepwalker and wandered nude through her home, up to her bedroom, to rummage for some things while Rose took care of what needed to be done. The caster would be the one to cast this second net. Rose stood up and walked to where her purse lay, her own fluids running down her thighs as she straightened and bent once more, pulling out her phone.

    It’d take two calls.

    No…

    One call.

    One call, and that would be enough.

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

    Dave’s phone rang three times before he answered it. He was lounging on John’s couch at the moment, feet up on John himself as if he were a footstool while he played a video game. Badly, by Dave’s standards, but hey who was keeping track aside from him.

    “Sup,” he said, not even checking to see who was calling. Whoever it was had gotten his number correct enough to make the phone ring, so a conversation they would have whether they wanted one or not. He kind of missed the last spam call he got, it had been a good way to waste an hour, talking them into ever entwining circles.

    “Dave?”

    “Rose,” Dave said once he recognized the voice, less confirming who it was but more mimicking her speech pattern in the moment.

    “Dave… are you busy right now?”

    “Define busy, because if by Busy you mean hecklin’ Egbert while he repeatedly beefs it at Mario Kart, then yeah, I’m busy as fuck.”

    “ Shut up, I’m not doing that bad!” came John’s offended voice, reaching behind him with one arm to swat at Dave’s feet, wanting to make him uncomfortable. Talk shit, get hit.

    “Says the guy who’s catchin’ every goddamn banana peel and shell ever released in the game from the first day of release till now, are you even gettin’ time to drive straight or are you just holdin’ the thing for fun at this point.”

    “Ah, you’re at John’s, perfect,” she said. “We need both of you.”

    “Yeah? What for?” Dave asked, fending off John’s slaps with his feet on his chest as he’d finally had enough to abandon his meager chances at victory to deliver a playful onslaught of his own.

    “We need to feed the plants,” Rose said, before hanging up.

    Blinking, Dave held his phone up to look at it, tempted to dial back but not doing so. “...Well. That was fuckin’ creepy.”

    “What’d she say?” John asked, giving up his assault in favor of leaning heavily on Dave’s legs like a counterweight, letting himself be jiggled in place by the press of his feet.

    “That we were needed. That we need to feed the plants.”

    “Uh. And you said that was Rose, right? Was that Rose-Rose or spooky Rose?” John asked, slightly suspicious. They’d been summoned by stranger things before when she was communing or doing rituals, and some of the horror movie side effects had lasting precautionary measures to John’s psyche. Like trying to remember not to freak out if your friends pupils and irises disappear because startling sounds can cause the shrieks of the damned in response.

    “It sounded like normal Rose. Besides, she was just goin’ to hang at Jade’s today, right?” he asked, gently easing John closer to his body by letting his leg bend to his chest, carefully controlled movements making his muscles burn in a pleasant way. “No need for spooky Rose if she’s just chillin’ there.”

    “Mmm.. yeah I guess… But why would they need us to help feed plants? Doesn’t Jade usually have that on lockdown?”

    “Maybe she’s got some new range of babies that eat raw steak for lunch and need some extra hands that don’t mind gettin’ chewed on a bit to feed’em.”

    “I’d mind getting bit, fuck you!”

    “Aw, poor John, afraid of gettin’ nibbled on by plants with puppy teeth,” Dave crooned, pressing John bodily backwards again with a grunt till he got the picture and stood up on his own power. “C’mon, let’s boogie and see what’s up. I’m curious now.”

    The game chimed with the sound of other players victories, making John sigh and turn his system off. Not like he’d had a chance at that point anyway, but man it still sucked. “Okay, okay, let me just get my keys..,”

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

    Neither was sure what to expect when they went to Jade’s place. The lights were on, but low from the outside, and the air smelled strange. Pleasant, but strange, more flowery than usual. They assumed Jade must have gotten some new plants after all,  or something somewhere was in full bloom out of view, and knocked on the door.

    And again.

    And again.

    With no response, John tried the knob and found the door unlocked, letting himself in. “She won’t mind, especially if Rose called us over,” he reasoned.

    “Yeah I gue- Jesus H Fuckin’ Christ, can you smell that?” asked Dave, giving a soft hoot of disbelief, fanning in front of his face once they stepped inside. “It’s like the place got dipped into the flowery section of Bath’n Body Works.”

    “Yeah, hah. Maybe the smell’s from the plants that need… fed,” John trailed off as they closed the door and wandered inside.

    There were many things that the duo expected to see when they rounded the entryway corner and made it into the living room, but the scene before them was not one of them. Rose and Jade, both nude, were quite busy on the back of the sofa. Rose was bent over the back edge of it, bracing herself, legs spread into a wide stance as Jade fucked her senseless from behind with what looked like one of her larger strap ons. It made for a gorgeous picture really, Jade’s hair wild and unkempt, her hips working like clockwork, breasts bouncing from the force of impact, long legs bent to accommodate Rose’s shorter stature. One hand was pressing the back of her head down, long fingers clenched in her hair to keep her in place, with her free hand held her hip. A sharp slap rang out as she raised it and thwacked the side of Rose’s ass hard enough to leave another red outline of her hand. Beyond them, on the coffee table, sat the most gorgeous flower either of them had seen, and all around in the air the pollen was already starting to work.

    “Should... Should we leave? Are we interrupting?” John asked obliviously, red in the face and gesturing back towards the door with one baffled hand. Dave, beside him, was taking his phone out and snapping a picture to commemorate the moment. It wasn’t a selfie, but it’d join the others from other times they’d all fooled around nonetheless. What a nice album of memories.

    “Nice.”

    “Dave!”

    “What.”

    Groaning quietly, John looked back towards Jade and Rose, only to find them separating and focusing their attention on them. Rose was wobbly on her feet and thoroughly wrecked, but she still had a hungry look in her eyes that made John feel harder than he’d already been when she came closer. Jade, still wearing her good strap, smirked and made a beeline for Dave’s side. Maybe it was just the girls, maybe it was the pollen in the air, but it took little effort for Rose to lead John’s large frame closer to the couch and get his belt off and even less for Jade to grasp Dave beneath the arms and practically carry him over as well.

    Layers were shed with efficiency due to four pairs of hands helping. As the pollen took stronger effect and the scent of roses became overwhelming, Dave found himself tugging John down for a messy kiss between items being tossed this way and that, grunting when he felt Jade slip up behind him and yank his hair to tip his head back. She leaned and kissed him upside down instead, playfully pressing the tip of her dick against the crest of his ass as she pressed her breasts against his shoulders, free hand reaching down to grab him by the cock. A promise of things to come.

    Rose, meanwhile, had slipped behind John and was already working both hands around his dick, stirring it the rest of the way to life. John wasn’t able to stand still. More. Need. Want. Sex. Wet. Now. The same string of thoughts that had been rushing through Rose and Jade’s minds for the last hour and a half was trailing through John and Dave’s thoughts, the plant knowing damn well what it wanted. What all the plants in the living room, now infected, wanted. What Rose had wanted when she cast her spell. Almost frantically, John sat down on the couch and reached for Rose’s waist, lifting her up and setting her down on his lap, groaning when she didn’t waste a second, spreading her legs and sliding down around his cock like a tight fitting glove. Jade had really done a number on her from the feel of it, she was wetter than he’d ever seen her and already starting to bounce in place, hands resting on his shoulders.

    Jade, thankfully, had brought lube with her when she brought the strap downstairs, knowing the boys would need it once they arrived. She made use of it now, steady fingers teasing Dave’s ass open as she leaned him against the back of the sofa where Rose had been minutes before, opposite of where she was now. His hands sought hers on John’s shoulders, fingers lacing as he leaned forwards, trying to catch her lips as she moved, failing to do much more than catch her splotchily marked lips as they passed by. She slowed her rise and fall on John’s lap and rose up onto her knees to kiss him instead, prompting John to grasp her hips and start fucking upwards from below, letting her stay steadier save for fleeting bobs of her breasts and head.

    It was appreciated. At least until Jade finished her fingering and started to gently work the toy into place. It was a size Dave had taken before many times, the familiar toy roughly the size of John’s dick, but it’d been a while since they’d been this desperate for it. Impatient. Needy. Dave shifted his weight from side to side as Jade slowly worked in inch by inch, backing out enough to let the lube spread more before pushing inside further each time. Soon she’d bottomed out and leaned forwards to kiss up Dave’s back, biting the back of his neck ferally when she rocked her hips back and slammed them forwards the first time.

    Jade followed Dave’s moans like directions, angling their bodies this way and that till they found the perfect angle for his prostate, hammering at the internal ridge mercilessly as Rose had attacked her clit earlier. When his legs buckled and tried to give out suddenly, she hefted him back up and braced him in place, one hand stabilizing on the couch and the other gripping his pale hip hard enough it left the imprint of finger marks and soft ridges from the tips of her nails.

    Both blondes were a mess of moans, hair in their eyes, sweat on their brows as their lovers worked them over. ...Yet it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough when Rose forced herself lower as John came, clenching tightly around him as she finished  again. It wasn’t enough when Dave gasped and painted a few patches of the wooden floor white and panted for breath.

    It wasn’t enough, not for the plants. The plants wanted More. Wanted Now. Wanted Sex. Wanted Wet. Wanted Hard. John, Dave, Rose and Jade wanted More, Now, Sex, Wet, Hard.

    More.

    More.

    The pollen wasn’t satisfied.

    Rose peeled herself off John’s lap when Jade pulled out of Dave and let him walk on wobbly legs to the front of the couch, following him with the eyes of a predator as he took over Rose’s position like a changing of the guard, slipping down readily onto John’s still achingly hard cock, still plenty wet from his earlier release and Rose’s fluids. A few bounces was as far as he got before Jade was stopping him and pushing him forwards against John’s chest, trying to fit against him like a puzzle piece. The tip of the toy probed at him, demanding entrance, though he was unsure if it was even possible when something was already within him. Rose crouched behind Jade and helped to steady the cock as it repeatedly attempted to gain purchase, her other hand reaching up to knead at one of her full breasts before trailing touches down her lipstick marked torso and abdomen, the worked up sweat making for a nice texture when she scratched gently with her nails before dipping lower to finger her encouragingly.

    Jade and John traded positions a few times, one entering and pounding away before withdrawing and allowing the other into place, working him open more and more as he relaxed… before finally they were able to, gently, accomplish it. John hissed air when he felt Jade’s toy against his dick, the warm pressure around him almost too intense to handle. Rose had scootched aside and climbed up onto the couch, alternating between kissing John and Dave’s breathless mouths as Jade slowly began to move for the both of them, rubbing sensually against John’s cock every time she pushed inwards, rocking Dave further forwards onto John every time she pulled back. She fingered herself busily and groaned at the sight as Dave shook and shivered, dick already spilling against John’s stomach. The brunette wasn’t far behind, grunting as he came, Jade pulling out to discard the soiled toy and strap. Among the items she’d gathered was a washcloth, and she wasted no time in throwing it onto John’s lap the second it was empty, Dave rising as if in a trance to follow Rose’s lead to the floor.

    The blondes tussled for control of the situation, unsure of who was going where for a hot minute, before Dave finally got Rose on her side and sank his dick into her wetness, hefting one of her legs up to improve the angle till she cried out.

    John, still on the couch and feeling light headed, didn’t get much reprieve between the call of the flower and the beckoning crook of Jade’s finger from the other side of the flower. He washed himself off before rising to follow her call, sinking down to his knees before her when she settled back and parted strap marked legs before him, a goddess in her own right. Her tangled hair fell wildly around her shoulders now, framing her flushed face as she stretched and arched her back showily.

    Not able to resist, John lowered down to get a taste of her as Rose had earlier, nose deep in pubic hair and happy as a clam as he feasted, licking and suckling ways he knew she liked till she tugged his hair and pulled him up.

    Oral was good and fun, but after that long wearing the strap, she needed something substantial to work against to get off again.

    More.

    Now.

    The plants demanded everything they had to give and more.

    Dave and Rose continued to cry out as they writhed on the floor across from them, while John scooted up as Jade demanded and aligned their bodies, finding it easy to slip inside of her. Unlike when playing with the blondes, they were about the same size, making it easier to be a little rough with how they moved with one another. John stayed still for a moment to catch his breath before starting to roll his hips in place, trying to find the best angle he could. When it wasn’t quite feeling right, he pulled back briefly and lifted Jade’s legs, bending her in just such a way that her legs were hooked around his forearms at the knee, deepening the angle substantially and letting him sink in as deeply as possible with each thrust. Jade’s pleasured cry was a good enough indicator for him as he muffled her with a kiss, working his hips like a piston, rocking her against the wooden floor as he braced with his hands.

    The effects of the plant lasted well into the night before finally, blissfully, the magic link was broken and the rose wilted, the taken energy more than enough to fulfill the obligations of the cast spell and then some. So, too, did the rest of the plants in the living room wilt.

    Jade and Rose were a tangle on the floor, Rose with her face against Jade’s breasts and one hand flung out to the side as she panted shallowly. Dave and John were beside them, arms wrapped tight around each other as they panted dazedly.

    “...What… the fuck… was that…” Dave eventually got out when he could think. Well, when he could think of anything aside from the fact his balls must be raisins by now and how walking was going to be off the menu for the day. Maybe the entire weekend. Sorry boss, sick day, can’t walk. Why? Doesn’t matter, mind your business, can’t walk.

    “...I think I made a miscalculation with a spell,” Rose said, not lifting her head, words coming out slurred.

    “The plants’re dead,” Jade confirmed dazedly, squinting. Where had her glasses gone? When had they gone anywhere? Things were cloudy and some details hard to remember. She reached out to pat John on the hip comfortingly. “You alive?”

    “Barely,” he groaned. “Ugh. My head… At least it doesn’t smell like roses anymore.”

    “Yeah,” Rose chuckled.

    “...Now what,” Dave asked, looking up at the ceiling. Weirder things had happened before somewhere surely, best to just take these kinds of things in stride. At least it had happened with people who were already his partners instead of a group of strangers, right?

    “Wanna get pizza?” Jade asked. “I’m starving .”

    “Do I have to move or put on pants,” John asked. “I think my everything is broken.”

    “Rock paper scissors for who answers the door,” Rose suggested with a tired grunt, her own stomach suddenly realizing it was painfully in need of fuel.

    “You’re on,” said Dave. “Prepare to lose.”

    They supposed, all tangled up on the floor, sticky from several different sources and covered in sweat, that this would at least make a funny story someday. For now though, they took solace in one another for the experience, ate too much pizza, and eventually limped their way to the shower in pairs before retiring to Jade’s oversized bed for an impromptu sleepover. Their dreams were deep and blissful, their sleep regenerating, and their bond was stronger than ever before.

[canaryatlaw]

okay. today was fine but I’m kinda meh now, stupid stuff. I had my alarm set for 11 as we were going to record but I woke up some time shortly before that, I think like 10:50 or so. So I got changed and went downstairs to grab my breakfast before getting my stuff and getting ready to record. a few technical difficulties at first but we figured it out pretty quickly. This was the first episode where we had our new co-host joining us who will be taking over the third host spot for the hiatus episodes and the new seasons, as we had only had a temporary host in the spot for most of the season (and like, he was pretty great for the most part, but we really wanted it to be three women instead). it went pretty well, a good deal longer than our usual episodes (like an hour and a half) because since I wasn’t livetweeting I wrote my notes while watching the episode instead of after, so there were a lot more of them, but I think they were all really interesting topics and I’m looking forward to the season finale on Sunday. I know they’ve been saying that even though this wasn’t supposed to be the season finale it leaves off as a good cliffhanger, but I can’t help but be kinda disappointed that we don’t get to see what was supposed to be the end, because right now it feels like they’re building up to it but it’s not quite there yet. it’ll be interesting to see if we actually get to meet “Safiyah” who’s been talked about in hushed tones as if she were Voldemort all season, just kind of this looming threat to possibly show up at some point (in the episode I compared it to the white walkers in GoT, being this threat out there they know that exists but is taking a while to actually get there). so yeah, I was happy with that. once we were done there I went back downstairs and started getting set up for my baking adventures for the day. I had wanted to retry the cotton candy donuts I made the other day that had come out pretty well but I wasn’t totally satisfied with the glaze, but I also kinda had a hankering for cornbread, so I figured I’d start with the donuts and see what happens. making the actual donuts is pretty easy, so that part wasn’t tricky to deal with. while I was taking them in and out of the oven in batches (I only have one donut pan) I started making a recipe for some cornbread muffins. since the bowl from the electric mixer already had the donut batter in it I went to use a normal bowl, but didn’t realize that the way they had you cut the butter into little pieces and added them meant it really wouldn’t combine correctly without an electric mixer, so I had to switch that over to that and then try not to overmix it but still get most of the larger butter chunks out. I was concerned they were still too big, but I went with it anyway and had to play with the baking time a bit, because the recipe was actually for mini-muffins but didn’t give another baking time for full muffins, but they actually came out really good, so I was satisfied with those. I always think it’s funny when these recipes are like “honey cornbread” and then when you look at the recipe it’s like 2 tablespoons honey and a cup of sugar lol, but not everything was made to be healthy. I then had to do the donut glaze, which last time I had chocked up the issue to not using the electric mixer to get all the little pieces of powdered sugar out, but soon found out that would still be an issue, and what I really should’ve done was sift it before using it so there weren’t any little chunks left. ah well. it still came out better than last time, and the swirl food coloring affect worked a lot better this time, so I was happy with that. so once that was finished we ordered dinner, since it was my last night here I decided I wanted chinese food because you can’t really find the same chinese food they have in NY in Chicago, so we ate that for dinner and it was very enjoyable. After that I mostly planted myself on the couch for the rest of the evening, first watching some hgtv with my mom and then we ended up putting on the great british baking show which we’ve watched a good amount of before, but we found a season my mom hadn’t seen yet and watched the first 3 episodes, which was of course very entertaining. after the third episode mom went upstairs to get ready for bed, I stayed downstairs a bit longer before going upstairs and starting to pack everything up for my flight tomorrow. I am definitely excited to be going back because so much here was just so dreary, but part of me is also kind of sad to leave, and I feel guilty that I’m just leaving them all here to deal with things and for my siblings to take care of my mom without me being there, but I mean I’ll always be available by phone and I made it clear I definitely want to be a part of making any major decisions going forward from here, so I think that’ll be alright. but yeah, I rounded up my things and got them all packed, we’re gonna get bagels tomorrow morning so I can shove a bunch of them in my bag before I go lo. after that I showered and started getting ready for bed, and now I’m here. not too too late but still like 12:40 am, and I do have to get up at a somewhat early (or earlier at least) time so I think I will take this opportunity to bid you a lovely evening. Goodnight sweeties. Sleep tight.

[classlesstulip]

All I ask for is some fluff about Tiberius, I need more of this man being a big softy please.

Monday's are Chicken Days. It is Very Important that Ty ensures the chicken treats are refilled, otherwise the dogs will be mad.

(Yes, Ty has full conversations with his dogs. Doesn't every pet owner?)

"Alright, alright, I get it: YOU'RE HUNGRY. Just, lemme get to the damn kitchen!" Trying to walk around a pack of excited dogs, Tiberius nearly tripped as Mania's frantically wiggling backside nearly swept him off his feet. "FUCK! Hey! Do you want the chi-kan!? THEN COOL IT!" Rolling his eyes with a sigh as all five dogs started whining and whimpering at the word 'chicken', Ty eventually was able to thump his way into the kitchen. Dodging vigorously wagging tails, he made his way over to the coldchest. Opening it up revealed a most disappointing sight: NO CHICKEN.

"Ohhhh NOOOOO! We have no more chicken! What'r we gonna do, girls!? Your Papa has failed to keep the chicken box full!" He snickered as the dogs started barking and whining, a few of them slumping in disappointment, with Morphea just flat out collapsing onto her side with a groan.

Laughing at the weekly ritual, Ty reached into the coldchest and pulled out a few large roasting chickens, gizzards and all. "A-HA! Look, girls, we're saved! Papa can make you your boiled chicken treats! We're saved!"

Hopping over and around happily dancing dogs, he brought the three chickens over to his butchers block. Peeling off the silk sacks they come in, he let them rest for a few minutes as he got his supplies together. Filling up and placing three large stockpots on the stove, he set them to gently simmer before sharpening his cleaver and paring knives. By the time he had washed up properly, the girls were settled in their customary corner, wedged against each other in front of the pantry.

With a thick thump, Ty started quartering his chickens. Splitting the breast, he then jointed the thighs and wings. Pulling out the livers and giblets, he set them into a large bowl to fry up later, after he's got the meat boiling.

*whiinnnne*

"Yes, Morea, Papa is making the chicken." *THUMP!*

*whimper*

"No, Murcia, I will NOT be hand feeding you. Quit being so lazy!" *THUMP!*

Once the first chicken had been quartered, Ty turned up the heat on the stove. Peeling off the skin, he then dumped the chicken piece by piece into a pot. Once finished, he moved onto the next chicken.

Once all the chickens were quietly boiling away, a large cast iron skillet was brought out. Plopping a large pat of butter inside, he quickly fried up the chicken skins to be nice and crispy. Pulling them out, he then tumbled in the livers and giblets. Behind him, he could hear hard claws dancing and thick tails thumping as the dogs food cooked.

Little piggies!

Crunching on a piece of chicken skin, Ty placed a fine mesh strainer over a large bowl. Dumping the skillet out over it, he left the livers to cool as the rich juices drained out. He REALLY needs to save those juices; it will be important for several sauces and roux's he makes on the regular.

"A-woowoowooooo..."

"Mab? What have I told you about being a brat?" A loud *boof!*. "That's right. Don't be one. And just what were you doing?" Another, quieter *boof*. "That's what I thought."

Once the chicken offal had cooled, Ty divied it up into five equal portions. Plopping the bowls onto the dog mat near the back door, it was only a matter of seconds before snorts and licks filled the room as each dog dove into her food.

Finishing up his snack of skins, Ty then returned to his skillet. Adding more butter, he mixed it with a splash of wine and the drippings. Whisking it, he deglazed the skillet, mixing until everything was well combined and smooth.

Leaving his pan sauce to reduce a little bit, he checked on his chicken. Already, a fine layer of fat had started foaming. Skimming it off of one pot, he then quickly turned off the flame under his skillet and transfered the sauce into a glass jar to cool. Returning to his pots, his ears picked-up a VERY familiar sound:

*ring**ring**ring*

Looking over his shoulder, Ty's suspicions were confirmed; Murcia is food motivated, and was currently trying to lick her bowl out of existance, snorting as her muzzle pushed the thick clay dish across the floor.

"Murci! You piggy! Stop it!" Getting a derisive snort in return, Ty again rolled his eyes as the girls lazily settled down in their corner.

Finishing skimming off the chicken, he then fished out the finished quarters, knowing that by the time he's done shredding them, everything else will be done.

His timing, as always, was perfect: once the legs and wings were separated from their bones and shredded with two forks, the rest of the carcasses needed attention. Putting the clean bones into his 'stock sack' in the coldchest, he then got to shredding the rest of the meat.

Once he was finished, the girls had perked up a bit. Interest chuffs sounded out from furry faces, with Mania letting out a loud, excited, rolling *boof!*

"Hey!"

As she settled back down, Ty quickly finshed what little was left. Leaving the chicken out to cool before storing, he quickly set-up what he calls a 'No Doggie!' ward. He's learned the hard way that chicken is like a drug to Standing Hounds. He has lost uncounted chickens to the little heathens!

*****

"Darling, I'm home! Did you miss me!?" The door slamming behind him, Julian had just enough time to set his shopping bags down before he got greeted by the Furry Welcome Wagon. "Oh, whosa my good girls!? Are you my good girls!? Yes, yes you are!"

As each dog stood on her hind legs to leave kisses all over a blushing face, Julian could hear puttering in the kitchen. Gently shooing the girls aside, he quickly removed his shoes, hung up his coat and workbag, and brought the small bit of grocery shopping with him.

"Hey, Sweetheart. Had a hankering for chicken and corn chowder. You got home just in time."

Setting the bags down on the counter, Julian watched as Ty pulled out a baking tray full of butter rolls, breathing deep the warm, rich scent. "I'm not going to lie, that sounds wonderful!" Quickly putting away the odds and ends he had picked up, the last things to be stored were the weekly roasting chickens.

By the time he had finished, Ty had already served up two bowls of chowder over torn-up rolls. Ty must have used his famous pan sauce to make the roux; Julian swears that just a tablespoon of that liquid gold can turn any meal from 'good' to 'amazing'.

Mouth watering, Julian quickly washed up. Plopping down into his seat, he placed a napkin in his lap before scooping up his spoon. Nearly vibrating in anticipation, he dipped his spoon, scooped up some creamy chicken goodness, and leaned forward-

"MURCIA! What have I told you about begging at the table!?"

[cuthian]

Dancing with a Limp Chapter One

 Welcome to another instalment of this little series. After this one, there is only one more before the bigger piece. There are several timejumps in this fic, but they mostly occur in the second chapter.

I absolutely ADORE Peggy Carter, and I have been itching to bring her in for a while now :D This part in the series will also establish the lives of the rest of the Avengers, beyond Steve's PoV.

Thanks to Juulna for helping me with this :) I love ya, doll.

Much Love, Annaelle

The One Where They All Try to Deal

Dancing with a Limp

“You will have lost someone you can’t live without, and your heart will be badly broken, and the bad news is that you never completely get over the loss of your beloved. But this is also the good news. They live forever in your broken heart that doesn’t seal back up. And you come through. It’s like having a broken leg that never heals perfectly—that still hurts when the weather gets cold, but you learn to dance with the limp.” —Anne Lamott

ONE

November 1943 U.S. Army base camp, precise location undisclosed, France

Steve

“I thought you were a dream,” Bucky had whispered, confided, once they’d managed to secure their own tent after Azzano, after Steve had relearned how to kiss Bucky, how to touch him, how to love him with his new hands and new body—after Bucky had spent an appropriate amount of time doing the same to him. “I thought I was dying and God took pity on me, allowed me to dream of you one more time.”

Steve remembered he’d made a hurt little noise at that, that he’d tried to shuffle even closer to Bucky, and that he couldn’t fathom the idea of having to live without Bucky.

“We’re safe for now,” he’d whispered. “I’m never letting you go again. Ever. Promise.”

Bucky hadn’t said anything after that, but he’d held on just as tightly as Steve had.

——————

Washington D.C., USA October 10th, 2011

Peggy

Peggy Carter looked over the files Anthony had assembled for her and, for a moment, she felt every single one of her ninety years. She sat on young Nicholas Fury’s chair behind his—frankly ostentatious—desk, a series of classified documents spread out on the mahogany surface before her, each more damning than the previous. In the end, they proved, quite indisputably, that Nicholas Fury himself had signed off on isolating Steve—her wonderful, poor, poor Steve—as soon as they could, in order to ensure he would be “more amenable” to their request to join S.H.I.E.L.D.

Her blood boiled at the mere implication, and she had already ensured—through her various, wonderfully loyal contacts that remained from her days as Director—that heads would roll for this.

She understood that, in their line of business, questionable decisions had to be made, but this… Breaking an operative simply because he refused to join their organization was not the way Peggy Carter had done things, and it certainly wasn’t the way she had taught Alexander and Nicholas to run their organization after she’d retired.

She sighed.

Anthony was pacing behind her, muttering to himself about an issue he had run into earlier when hacking into S.H.I.E.L.D.’s files, and the constant trotting would annoy her if it were anyone else but Tony. She did adore the boy, her first godchild, and she knew he could never quite stay still.

“Anthony, darling,” she spoke up nonetheless, turning in her seat to look at him. “I think we have quite enough to nail him to the wall, so to speak. No need for such concern.”

Tony looked at her, wide-eyed and evidently caught off-guard before he shook his head. “There’s something else there, though,” he insisted, a near-manic gleam in his eyes. “JARVIS hasn’t gotten through the firewall yet, but with a little more time, I know we could—”

“Tony,” Peggy interrupted tiredly. He was quite brilliant, her darling godchild, but he tended to get carried away. “They’re a secret agency. I’m sure there are quite a few things still there.”

Tony frowned. “That’s a good point.”

Peggy simply shook her head and smiled, turning back to face the door just as it swung open.

“Ah,” she smiled blandly when Fury froze on the doorstep for a split-second before he stepped inside, letting the door swing shut as though he was accustomed to finding his former director and a wayward billionaire in his office. Of course, she mused, showing up unannounced in someone’s office did sound and awful lot like something Tony would do, so perhaps he was accustomed to it.

“Nicholas. Please,” she said calmly. “Have a seat.”

It’d been some time since she’d last conducted an interrogation, but she found she hadn’t quite lost her touch, and Nicholas—though much older than she remembered him—seemed rather unnerved.

Excellent.

She remembered an idealistic young man, fresh out of the army, willing to fight the injustices of the world with everything he had. He’d actually quite reminded her of Steve. Alexander had too, of course, but only insofar that their looks were almost eerily similar—Alexander, though he preferred to be seen as altruistic and kind, was nothing like Steve in personality.

With that in mind, she did find it quite difficult to imagine Nicholas, of all people, who had fought against injustice and manipulation within the system, signing off on what amounted to blatant emotional manipulation and outright abuse of a fellow veteran.

“Dir—Mrs. Carter… Mr. Stark,” the tall man said, obviously struggling not to show how thrown he was by their presence in his office. “I wasn’t told to expect you.”

She smiled. “That is because I did not have anyone tell you.” She raised an eyebrow and gestured towards the chairs before the desk, while she remained seated in what she presumed was Nick’s own chair. “Will you not sit? I think we have some things to discuss.” It was a rather cheap move, if she did say so herself—an easy bit to establish her dominance, but she had to admit it did work wonders.

Nicholas was, of course, far too experienced by now to blatantly acknowledge he was intimidated by her, but Peggy Carter had spent most of her life reading people who were exceptionally hard to read, and she could tell he knew why she was there.

She assumed he knew she wouldn’t let this kind of slight stand either.

She may be old, but Peggy Carter was not one to be trifled with at any age. She would not let anyone—not even the agency she had built from the ground up herself—mess with her family.

“Now,” she said when he’d—reluctantly, she observed—taken a seat. “I’m sure you have a perfectly reasonable explanation for this.” She shoved the files towards him, taking a perverse kind of pleasure in the way he scrambled to catch a few of the papers that fluttered off the desk.

She was wildly uncomfortable—living to the ripe old age of ninety had its downsides, after all, and creaky joints was one of them—and in a very poor mood, so it felt good to see Fury struggling to find his words as he looked over the papers with an increasingly inscrutable expression. “I do hope you have a satisfying explanation, Nicholas,” she added, raising an eyebrow. “That is, if you’d like to keep your job, and these papers out of the press.”

“Surely you understand,” Fury finally spoke, tense and lowly. “We have to make difficult decisions in our line of work. Captain Rogers is a tremendous asset, and—”

“He is a twenty-eight year old war veteran,” Peggy hissed. “He lost everything he held dear in the world, and he needed a support system. Genuine help, not isolation so he would be more “amenable” to what you wanted him to do.”

Fury simply raised an eyebrow at her outburst, tilting his head to the side lightly before he replied, calm and clearly measuring his words, “I assure you we did not make this decision lightly. Captain Rogers was in danger of becoming a loose cannon. Our best psychiatrists—”

“—should be fired,” Peggy practically bellowed. Fury looked taken aback, and she took a deep breath to calm herself, before settling back into her seat. “And they will be fired.” She glanced over her shoulder to where Tony stood, smiling lightly when he shot her a thumbs up. “In fact, they’re being escorted out of the building as we speak.”

“Mrs. Carter,” Fury spoke, voice tight and controlled. “With all due respect, ma’am, you no longer have that kind of authority.” There was a tiny little vein pulsing on his temple, and Peggy found herself quite amused that this man—this man, who only had power because she had insisted he take Alexander’s place when he joined the World Security Council—thought he could tell her what to do.

She would have thought people had learned to stop trying to tell her what to do when she founded S.H.I.E.L.D. in the wake of the S.S.R. trying to force her into a desk job after she and Daniel got married.

“I think you’ll find that I do,” she replied succulently. “And, unless you are hankering to be next, I suggest you think long and hard about making decisions like the one you made with Steve again.”

“Oh, snap,” Tony breathed behind her, and Peggy narrowly refrained from rolling her eyes.

While she appreciated the sentiment, it was hardly the time to comment on it.

She kept her gaze firmly locked on the dark-skinned man before her, trying to gauge his reaction to her words. Honestly, he had learned to control his expression in the decade since she had last met with him in person, but there were still miniscule tells that she had learned how to read over her decades of work in espionage.

Her words had clearly hit a nerve, though she was unsure whether he was angry or impressed.

It was, likely, a combination of both.

“Do we understand one another, Director Fury?” she finally spoke, when it became clear the other man was not inclined to speak up anytime soon. While she had originally planned for a much longer conversation, she had no desire to stick around in Washington any longer than she absolutely had to.

Steve was still in New York, with her other godchild and the rest of their ragtag group of friends, and she had waited quite long enough to see him—all of them, truly—again.

Perhaps if she had insisted… if she had not conceded when Becca had told her Steve wasn’t ready to see her yet—hadn’t quite come to terms with the idea of her being ninety yet…

She supposed there was really nothing for it now.

She was here now, and she had no intention of leaving any time soon[LP1] .

Fury eyed her speculatively before he nodded curtly. “We do, Mrs. Carter,” he said calmly, though she could see the silent anger behind his blank expression.

“Excellent.” She smiled pleasantly before she turned in her seat to look at her godson. “Anthony, darling, do be a dear and fire up the jet, yes? I think it is high time we return to New York.” Tony smirked and saluted—the little shit—before he helped her up—a thoughtful little shit—and hurried out of the room.

“It was a pleasure,” she said blandly, heading towards the door without another look at the man who’d tried to orchestrate a mental breakdown for her former almost-lover. “Oh,” she turned at the door and smiled the most insincere smile she could manage. “You might want to expect a visit from Timothy Dugan too. I hear he and the other Howlies were none too pleased either.”

She didn’t have to look back to know she’d caught him off guard.

Perfect.

Checkmate.

——————

Outside Salzburg, Austria, 1944

Steve

“You do realise,” Gabe had said casually, while he and Steve were pouring over the maps to locate their next target, “that we all know what you and Sarge get up to in your tent at night, right?”

Steve had stiffened, and he’d fought to control the unadulterated fear that shot through his veins at the mere idea of someone knowingabout him and Bucky. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he’d replied carefully, measuring each word painstakingly. “Only thing we get up to is strategy planning.”

Gabe had snorted, and if he weren’t so fucking terrified, Steve would have winced at his own dreadful excuse, but he was terrified. “Hey,” Gabe’d grabbed at Steve’s arm—none too gently—and Steve had realised he was panting, his breath coming fast and harsh, and his head had been spinning. “Cap. Steve. We don’t care. We don’t care. None of us care. We ain’t ratting you out.”

He’d focused his attention on Gabe’s dark eyes, grasping desperately at the sincerity he saw in them. “You don’t care?” he’d whispered. “That we’re—”

“You’re ours,” Gabe had replied fiercely, fingers digging into Steve’s biceps unforgivingly. “We’d give our lives for yours and you’d do the same for us. You got our backs. That’s all we care about.”

“Okay,” Steve had whispered, still dazed and a little afraid.

“Okay,” Gabe had nodded, turning back to the map, and the moment passed, almost like it had never happened to begin with.

——————

Avengers Tower, Manhattan, New York City, New York, USA October 10th, 2011

Peggy

Returning to New York was far less of a hassle with the convenient use of Anthony’s private jet, especially considering the brief stop they had to make to liberate Timothy from his awfully strict nursing home. She supposed she could understand the orderlies’ reluctance to let the elderly man wander around without proper medical care—he was, after all, a ninety-nine year old man—but it was rather tedious to have to convince everyone they were not going to get Timothy killed on a simple trip to New York.

“They like to pretend I’m made of glass,” Dum Dum grumbled to her as Anthony maneuvered his wheelchair onto the jet, setting him and Peggy up comfortably, side-by-side so they could chat while Tony flew them directly to the Avengers Tower. “I fought in goddamned World War II. I ain’t fragile.”

“Of course you’re not,” Peggy patted his hand consolingly.

It was, otherwise, a rather uneventful flight, and it gave her ample time to consider what to say to Steve when she saw him, although she was well aware that she would likely forget whatever ingenious speech she concocted the second she’d lay eyes on him.

It had always been like that.

Steve had had something about him that drew her in—a sincerity she missed in others who’d tried and failed to follow in his footsteps. Something that had broken her heart, in the end.

She had always known, of course, of his feelings for Sergeant Barnes.

A blind woman would have noticed the way Steve lit up for Barnes.

Yet there had been a faint trace of hope, lingering in her heart, a tiny flame fanned into enduring every time Steve shared a smile with her, every time his gaze lingered on her, and every time he blushed when she brazenly dared to flirt with him.

She didn’t think Steve hadn’t cared for her at all. There was, after all, quite some evidence to the contrary. However, there had been a war on, and the time they had spent together was limited and, as she looked back on it, filled with mostly shallow conversations. She had known only the things Steve had chosen to show her, and he had known only the barest facts she had chosen to share.

Perhaps the spark between them would not have survived peace time at all.

It was a question she would, sadly, never truly see answered, and though she had mourned Steve and what they could have been, she was forced to confront that her broken heart lay far beyond Steve’s death. It was, in essence, a broken heart that originated from Steve’s whispered, “I don’t know how to breathe without him, Peggy,” before the connection had been severed.

Even in death, it seemed, Bucky Barnes had a hold over Steve’s heart that no one could break.

She had not understood the ache he lived with after he watched Barnes fall. She could not have, not truly, not until she had lost Daniel, so shortly after they’d married. Not until she woke up beside Angie, realizing that her wife had fallen asleep and simply stopped breathing, only a few short years ago.

It felt quite impossible, both times, to remember how to breathe without their breath moving in tandem with her own, even though she had not spent nearly as long with Daniel as Steve had with Barnes, and even though she and Angie were never as incredibly close and dependent on each other as Steve and Barnes had been.

She’d spoken of it with Barnes, once. Only once.

It’d been after he’d taken a bullet to the upper thigh on a mission, while Steve was still pacing outside, shouting at whoever would listen that he wanted to be let in, that he wanted to see Bucky, to see that he was alive and well with his own two eyes.

“He loves you, you know?” Barnes had said casually, as though he weren’t pale and sweaty, weak as a newborn kitten after the blood loss. “If you wanted… you could have him.”

She’d been surprised, to say the least.

“Ah,” she’d sighed eventually, having weighed and measured her words for a long time before she found a way to speak them aloud, waiting until Barnes’ doctor had been pulled from the room to attempt to wrangle Steve into behaving before she spoke. “I could have him, I suppose, but I could never keep him. He has been yours, I think, for a very long time indeed.”

Barnes had looked surprised at that, and then wary, as she supposed was his right. It was, indeed, very dangerous knowledge to have, and to share out loud. “He don’t always know what’s good for him,” Barnes had finally slurred, his eyes heavy with exhaustion. “He’s a handful, but… ain’t no better feeling in the world than bein’ loved by Steve Rogers.”

Steve had burst in after that, looking rather frazzled and frightened and had honed in on Barnes like he didn’t even realise there was anyone else in the room, and Peggy had known then.

For Steve, there would never be anyone else in the room.

She imagined it was in fact very wonderful, even exhilarating beyond anything else in the world, to be truly loved by Steve Rogers—the man had never done anything in his life by halves, and she knew he would not love by halves either—but she did not think she would ever experience it.

When he was lost to them, Peggy mourned. Mourned what they might have been, mourned the man she could easily have fallen in love with, mourned the friend she had gotten to know quite well.

But she rejoiced, for surely wherever they were now, Steve and Barnes were together.

That, at least, provided a measure of comfort.

Unfortunately, it did very little for her presently.

Nervous energy, the likes of which she had not felt since either of her respective wedding days, curled in the pit of her stomach, filling her with the impossible urge to fidget. It was hardly proper behavior, but she found herself picking at her nails, twirling both of her wedding rings, and bouncing her leg the entire flight to the Tower.

Fortunately, they were awaited by Tony’s two lovely partners and Rebecca, who greeted her and Dum Dum with barely contained enthusiasm.

Peggy had, of course, met with the lovely Pepper and the dapper James before, but it had been quite some time since she had seen the both of them in person, let alone the three partners all together at once. Why, the last time she had seen them, the two men had hardly admitted their feelings for Pepper to each other, much less to the woman herself.

Rebecca—her sweet, darling, second godchild—was the most exuberantly enthusiastic to see her, though Peggy suspected it a mere byproduct of her relative youth compared to the others on the platform. It had also been much longer since she had seen Becca, because Tony made it a point to fly in to see her every few months, at least, and his Pepper Potts stopped by for tea every time she was in the U.K.

Still, she hugged them all, and took her time to greet them warmly, for she had missed them, and it was incredibly easy to divert her nervous attention to the trio before her.

“Uncle Gabe’s already here,” Becca informed her sagely. She gestured vaguely to the large door that led, as Peggy had been informed, to the common floor of the Tower, designed to be used by the entire team. Indeed, when she strained her eyes, she could see the vaguely blurred shape of a man sitting on the sofa by the glass wall.

“We’ve…” Pepper hesitated and exchanged a glance with Rebecca and James before she continued. “We’ve not told Steve you’d be here yet.” She held up her hand to fend off their protests before Peggy could even open her mouth, and she couldn’t help but smile—Tony had chosen well.

“We discussed it with his therapist at length,” she continued calmly. “While he’s doing better, his mental state is still incredibly fragile and unstable. We feared his anxiety would only be worse if he was left to await your arrival. Thor should be with him now.” Pepper glanced to Rebecca, who glanced down at her phone and nodded in agreement.

“Yeah,” Becca asserted. “He’s going to tell Steve you’re here to see him.”

“Is this Thor capable of handling Cap?” Dum Dum groused, wiggling in his wheelchair. “We all remember how stubborn he can be when he’s set his mind to something.”

Becca snorted, seemingly before she could stop herself, and crossed the landing pad to pat Dum Dum’s shoulder. “Yeah, don’t worry about that. Physically, he’s more than capable of taking Steve down, if need be, and he’s one of Steve’s closest friends in this century.”

It was a stark reminder of Steve’s unique situation, but it also warmed Peggy’s heart to see this group of people—so young, in so many ways, while also terribly experienced—care so deeply for her Steve.

“Well then,” she said after a brief, semi-comfortable silence. “Shall we?”

——————

Start from the beginning:

In Hell We Stand By You:

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8)

Never Feel Alone:

(1) (2)

Decisions: 

(1)

Or read it HERE on AO3 :D

Find the next chapter HERE on Tumblr :)

[spirit-of-the-void]

Ebony and Ivory (V x Reader Fanfic) Chapter 10

Author’s notes: Screeching I FAILED YOU ALL ITS PAST MIDNIGHT

Chapter 10

Upon re-entering the apartment, you were relieved to see both boys still sleeping.

And that Griffon had moved the poet to the bed. It occurred to you that someone changed the sheets at some point, because they were a different color and no longer stained with blood from his previous wound. He was now curled on his side, black haired draped over his face and pained expression lessened a bit. That made you considerably happier. As Nico and Lady took up spots on the couch, you stepped back up to the bed, carefully pulling the covers around the poet all the way up to his chin. You stared at him with a soft expression, wanting to kiss him again but knowing doing so in front of Lady and Nico was a very bad idea. You settled on a soft pat to his head, turning to look at Nero next.

You grabbed a nearby throw blanket from the couch, feeling Nico half focusing on you, and half on getting the bottle open. You tiptoed on the hardwood, gently laying the blanket on Nero’s broad shoulders. Luckily, he was just as deep a sleeper as V. He barely stirred, snores uninterrupted and steady. Jesus, how many energy drinks had he consumed over a short span? There was at least ten cans, which you knew definitely wasn’t healthy. A vague memory hit you, his actions somehow reminiscent of a past you, when you were human--you couldn’t remember the specifics, but you knew you were just like him when you were still  a teenager. Mind you, he was an adult and drinking the sugary, caffeine filled concoctions was probably bad. Still.

After assuring that both boys were covered, you moved back to the living room in enough time to see Nico popping the cork off the bottle. You contented yourself was sliding into an armchair, sitting cross-legged. The loud noise made you look at V, but the boy hadn’t stirred at all. Jesus, Griffin wasn’t lying. V was a heavy sleeper, and you were guessing Nero was less so, but his energy drink induced haze probably left him with a huge crash. Speaking of Griffon, the bird flew over to you and landed on the armchair. He seemed relieved to see you at least slightly more calm, cheeks tinted pink after a nice rest in the hot water. You could feel both girls watching with surprise as he settled himself around your shoulders, head pressed to your cheek.

“Look at you, Chicken!” Nico commented, looking thoroughly amused, “Didn’t take you for the snugglin’ type.”

Griffon let out a snort, shockingly not moving away despite her taunting words--worry must have been stronger than his pride at that moment. It made you feel warm.

“Laugh it up, miss artist,” He hissed, gold eyes staring coldly at her, “I ain’t movin’. I’m pretty damn comfortable.”

You smiled, patting his head softly. As you did, Shadow hopped down from the bed, coming over to sit on the floor in front of you and plop their head on your lap. Their support felt nice as always, warming your feet a bit as you gave a gentle pat.

“I don’t mind.” You reassured the girls, gingerly accepting a cup of whatever the fruity-looking alcohol was. You sniffed it experimentally, feeling a bit of wariness when it smell sweet and sugary. You couldn’t help but wonder what the alcohol content in it was, but Nico didn’t seem to care. She chugged down her glass, looking downright pleased with herself. You made sure to take a few bites of the food they had laid out on the table--sandwiches, probably from the fridge in Nico’s van.

Griffon sniffed the glass too, making a face of concern as he asked, “Uhhh you ladies sure this is a good idea?” He ruffled his feathers when Nico skewered him with a glare, adding hastily, “Not trying to spoil any fun, just wondering if giving the girlie here booze after a bad experience is a good idea.”

Griffon sounded like the only reasonable one in the room then, at least the only one that wasn’t unconscious. Had you been at least semi-reasonable at that moment, you would have agreed with him. But..you weren’t. The episode with the Void left you in a very bad state of mind, body hankering for some relief of any kind. You hadn’t gotten drunk in a long time, but you felt like you needed at that moment, just to help forget the pain and loneliness of that dark place. Throwing caution to the wind, you tossed back the whole glass, eliciting a laugh from Nico. She seemed pretty pleased, all things considered. Whatever the booze was was sweet, delicious...strong. The taste of alcohol was definitely present.

Lady let out an impressed sound, already on her second glass as well.

“Look at you go,” She hummed, propping her feet up on the coffee table, “You sure you’re old enough to drink?”

You could not handle your booze well, you knew that already. Another ghost of a memory came back, not from your time as a human. From one of your dimensional trips, you went drinking with them as well. Your body composition was the textbook definition of a lightweight. One cup in and it was already warming your stomach, the sensation of being buzzed going right to your head. You shook yourself a bit to try and ward it off, letting Nico pour you another cup. You probably should have eaten more before delving into the sauce, so to speak. But your brain already wasn’t at peak decision making, and it was just gonna get worse. Drinking was definitely breaking down a lot of the walls you had up, bringing out your honesty.

Which was bad. But you didn’t care.

“Mmmm,” You murmured softly, sipping more of the sweet liquid before you replied, “I’m probably older than everyone in this room combined.”

That made the two girls look at you again, Nico blinking in shock. If you hadn’t been so hazy already, you would have seen another look on her face. As if you had confirmed a thought of hers she already had.

“Really?” Lady asked, pulling her legs onto the couch and staring at you with curiosity, “How old are you?”

You had already finished that second glass, which was bad.

“Can’t remember,” You said softly, making sure to take a bite of food and whipping the cup to the side when Griffon tried to grab it from you. He seemed to have the good sense that you probably shouldn’t be drinking. Still you continued, unbeknownst to you that you were saying things that probably shouldn’t have been said, “I lost track a long time ago...the Void doesn’t...really have time…”

“The Void?” Lady blinked.

Griffon snapped his beak near the edge of the glass again, making you sigh lightly.

“You’re making bad choices, toots,” He said in your ear, nudging your face lightly as he sighed, “You sure you wanna be doing this? I already told you I can’t take more than one dumbass.”

You let out a low hum, feeling very strange now that alcohol was working into your system.

“Just make sure I don’t kiss V or something,” You said, voice just loud enough for the girls to hear, “Just promise you’ll stop me.”

Before Griffon could reply, Nico smirked, waving that bottle in her hand as she addressed you.

“Got the hots for the poet, Y/N?” She gave a low chuckle, tossing back some snacks and chewing lightly, “Didn’t think he was your type.”

Lady frowned, letting the mechanic pour her another glass, “Pump the brakes. Can we get back to that ‘Void’ comment?” She asked, eyes, still locked on you as you enjoyed the end of your second glass of wine--was it wine? You had no idea, “What is the Void?”

You gripped the glass, brain even more hazy as you completely ignored the sandwich sitting on the table. All good sense gone, it would seem. The feeling of zero restraint felt good, it definitely was helping make the pain go away. But...it was also magnifying it. You wouldn’t say you were the loud, obnoxious type while intoxicated. More so...soft. Alcohol made you honest, quiet, and helped take a lot of the walls away. Griffon was pretty anxious about your fight against sobriety, but you couldn’t really give a damn about that at the moment. Lady had asked you a question, right? You had drank just enough booze to answer her honestly. Way too honestly.

“The Void,” You murmured, eyes half closed as you swirled one last sip of pink liquid at the bottom of the glass, “Is the place I went to the first time I died.”

Both girls stopped dead in their actions, gaze lifting to stare at you in shock. Griffon paused too, a startled look in his eyes as your gaze drifted down, staring at Shadow’s head on your lap. You gently scratched their ears with your free hand, the sound of their purring very nice in your intoxicated state. You kind of wanted Nico to pour you more, which luckily she did when you set the glass down--she didn’t say anything, which would have made you anxious before you had started drinking.

Lady was the first person to speak. She gently reached out, laying a hand on your arm as you started drinking the third glass.

“Y/N?” She murmured, eyes filled with something akin to motherly concern, “You’ve died before?”

You nodded, meeting her gaze with a hazy one of your own.

“More than once,” Your words were only slightly slow, hand still firmly gripping the glass, “Can’t remember how many times.”

Nico let out a low sound of confusion, hopping off the couch so she could scoot over to you. She sat by your feet and Lady’s, bumping Shadow a bit as she crossed her legs.

“What do you mean you’ve died more than once?” She asked, eyes alight with fascination and worry as she looked up at you, “Is it some reincarnation bullshit?”

You shook your head, eyes still half closed as you swirled the glass again. Griffon let out a nervous trill, seeming ready to grab it at any moment in case you dropped it.

“No,” You mumbled, “A lot more complicated. The Deity sends me to these places and if I die I just get sent back. Minus...the first time I went there.”

You were making this a lot more confusing than it needed to be, it showed on their faces.

“Can you explain?” Nico asked, grasping her bottle of booze between her hands, “Y/N..what does all that mean?”

Loose Lips. You had loose lips.

You settled in the chair a bit, letting out a light “oof” when Shadow leapt up, determined to sit in your lap. The cat was very, very heavy, but you didn’t mind, letting them rest their head on your other shoulder. That was fine, you could drink around them. Shadow seemed able to sense you were off, gently licking your cheek until you gave a soft smile. You appreciated the sentiment, though in your hazy of intoxication it kind of made you sad, like you didn’t deserve it.

You settled on beginning your explanation, eyes still a bit blurry as you rested your chin on Shadow’s head.

“The Void,” You breathed, hiccuping softly as you continued, “Is a place where broken souls go to die.”

Your words made both girls pause, shock written on their faces again.

You continued, “When I was a human...life must’ve been bad,” You closed your eyes, feeling Shadow let out a low, cat-like sound, “Very bad. No heaven or hell for me, nope...the space in between spaces. A place where...tormented souls go. Too broken for reincarnation or the afterlife,” You took a sip of alcohol, eyes half opening again, “My Deity found me there, erased my memories but left the lingering...emotions, feelings. And now I...I serve him, serve his wills and wishes. No relative made a deal, that...was me.”

Both girls looked quiet, like they didn’t know what to say. Now that you were pouring everything out, you didn’t seem to know to stop. You didn’t like deceiving people, you didn’t like the half-truth bullshit you were forced into. What was the point of lying if these people would end up not caring anyway? You knew you were different, you always had been. You gripped the cup tighter, eyes drifting to the side as a sad smile tilted your lips. Things always had a way of falling apart, of reminding you that you didn’t belong--you were born once, your time to find your place was long gone. That world didn’t work, why should it now?

“It’s funny,” You mumbled, feeling Griffon’s slow breathes by your ear, “Gave up everything...just for one more chance at happiness. But no matter how much I break myself...it never changes anything. I just...move on, back to the Void each time...forgotten. I want to go home, but there’s...no home to go to. It’s a weird feeling.”

You had no sooner stopped speaking when you felt Lady’s arms wrap around you, half pulling you and Shadow out of the chair. You blinked in shock, Shadow letting out a low huff as you both were suddenly pressed to Lady’s chest. A tender embrace. You didn’t know how to react, if you should even move. You...hadn’t been hugged in so long, especially not like this--Lady felt like a mom, gently stroking your hair as she sat down on the arm of the chair to hold you. You felt your breath hitch, hand slipping with the glass. Griffon had been ready, he swooped down to catch it, setting it down on the coffee table with a light trill.

You wanted to cry. You wanted to cry. Your eyes teared up, breaths coming shallowly as you wrapped your hands around her waist. It felt nice, foreign. You spent so much time comforting others you couldn’t remember the last time someone went out of their way to comfort you.

Nico put a hand on your leg, giving you a rueful smile as tears started tracking down your face.

“Aww shit,” She tsked, letting out a light, emotional laugh as she scooted even closer, “Our girl here is a sad drunk. Shoulda known.”

Lady patted your head as you continued to sniffle, voice very firm as she said, “It’s okay. Everything is okay,” She wiped away some of your tears, eyes very soft as she said, “You ever need a place to call home, you come with me. I’m your family now. No fighting it.”

“Bullshit!” Nico huffed, crossing her arms while you blinked in shock, “Nero and I already got dibs on her...once he wakes up at least. Kyrie’s parent’s house has plenty of room.”

Lady let out a light sigh, “Can I at least visit?”

Nico chuckled, chugging wine straight from the bottle, “Sure, visit all you wanna. Like the weird, out of town aunt.”

Shadow, pressed between two sets of breasts, seemed pretty content. You were feeling strange, unable to process their words but...it made you warm, comfortable. That sense of loneliness diminished, leaving you feeling safe and contented in Lady’s embrace. The feeling of belonging was very hesitant, but blooming slowly over time--you didn’t want to get your hopes up, not after every time you were crushed before. But Lady seemed honest, and so did Nico. The idea of staying with them wasn’t a bad one...it was tender, nice. Like a dream, only in reality.

One you hoped was real.

Griffon let out a light huff, perched on the back of the couch now and eyeing you with that golden gaze.

“Told you guys it was a bad idea,” He huffed, ruffling out his feathers, “Now she’s cryin’. V’s gonna throw a fit when he wakes up and sees you got her plastered.”

“Mister goth can shove it,” Nico huffed, refilling your glass and handing it back to you, “We’re gonna get her drunk enough to bypass the sad phase.”

“That’s not how it works!” Griffon screeched.

Nico chuckled, flicking a pretzel at the flustered bird. He caught it in his beak, crunching with a light glare.

“Loosen up, feathers,” She chortled, looking a little pink around the edges now. She was clearly holding her liquor better than you, “Girl needs to have fun sometimes--maybe you should let her smooch the sleeping prince. Bet it would perk him right up.”

Griffon shook his head in annoyance, rolling his eyes back as he replied, “You ladies are such a bad influence. I promised Y/N I wouldn’t let her do that,” He looked at you--if a bird could smirk, that would be the expression he had, “As much as she wants to.”

You hiccuped again, wiping your eyes and pointing at him, “Zip it, bird.”

Lady let out a low hum, still resting on the arm of the chair, “You have a thing for the mysterious type, huh?”

Griffon huffed, settling on the table and tilting his head, “They’ve both been ogling each other, since fucking day one. I wanna pull my feathers out, they’re both so fucking stupid,” He let out a light groan, “Especially Shakespeare. Never seen him stumble over a lady before.”

You hiccuped, frowning at the frazzled demon.

“Stop talking about me like I’m not here,” You mumbled, leaning on Lady a bit, “And it's not...like that.”

Nico let out a low, amused hum, tipped the bottle back and gulping more down, “Doesn’t mean you don’t want it to be that way. Goth seems to care a whole lot about you, it was his idea to stay behind and wait. He was pretty fuckin’ stubborn.”

That made your face heat up, much to your embarrassment. You liked the idea of him caring too much.

“Aww,” Lady cooed, squeezing your cheeks, “What an honest reaction! It’s okay to admit when you like someone, Y/N.”

You let out a light huff, “So what if I do?” You hid behind Shadow a bit, tugging the cat further against you as you added, “He’s kind...I think he’s been through a lot, he needs someone who cares.”

Nico let out a sound of agreement, nodding her head vigorously, “Sure sure. Not sayin’ I don’t think it would be good for him, cause it would. He needs a good girl in  his life to shake him out of his shell.”

Lady nodded as well, sipping her drink as she added, “Just know if he hurts you, I’ll kill him.”

That made you laugh a bit, her sing-song tone making you smile. She sounded like the big sister you never had, and her protectiveness was definitely welcome. Both girls started chatting about the situation, the girl talk bringing back on a strange, nostalgic feel. You couldn’t remember the last time you hung out with some girls, talked, and drank. It felt so strange and normal, you couldn't really grasp onto the sensation. It felt...right, in a way. Despite your sad, crying from earlier you now felt a bit of energy settling in you, carefree now that the revelation was off your shoulders.

When you tuned back into the conversation, Lady and Nico were still discussing the sleeping poet.

“I’m just sayin’,” Nico huffed, tapping her nails on the table rhythmically, “Skinny guys can be packin’. Have you checked his feet?”

Lady smirked, leaning back on the armchair and replying, “Ask me nicely and I’ll go over and take one for the team.”

You giggled lightly, leaning a head on Lady’s shoulder as you murmured, “He has big hands, does that count?”

Griffon let out a staged gasp, narrowing his eyes on you.

“Thought you were jokin’ about that hand fetish, toots,” He clicked his tongue, sounding heavily skeptical of you, “First a feeding fetish, now this. You’re a nasty, naughty girl.”

You huffed, “I don’t have a feeding fetish. Just look at him, he needed to eat.”

Nico let out a light laugh, everyone looking over at the poor, unsuspecting poet. You were damn lucky he hadn’t woken up yet, still peacefully snoozing away with his head pressed to the pillow. Those hands were resting near his body, his fingers long, elegant. You had to admit, especially in that drunken haze, that you had a thing for his hands. The thought made you sigh, resisting the urge to fan your face. Maybe drinking wasn’t the best idea, you were getting kind of dizzy and...well, giddy. Past the phase of sad, still without boundaries it would seem. It was a good thing you asked Griffon to keep an eye on you, cause you could have definitely kissed the poet.

“Boy does need a sandwich,” Nico tsked, eyeing V’s skinny frame, “He also needs some pussy too.”

Lady choked on wine, coughing while you stared at the mechanic in astonishment, “Nico!”

Nico shrugged, leaning back against the couch with a single eyebrow wiggling up and down, “What? I speak the truth, boy needs a good lay. Way too stuck up his own ass.”

Lady, shockingly nodded at that, clearing her throat quietly after her coughing fit, “I have to second that. Though you’re a sweet girl, Y/N. Don’t want him using you for some passing sex.”

You snorted, “I highly doubt it’s the case. But I appreciate it.”

Nico chugged the remainder of her bottle of wine, swaying as she rose to her feet. She let out a disappointed sigh, cracking her knuckles after setting the glass bottle down on the table with a firm thud. Both you and Lady looked up at her when she did so, watching as she started walking toward the door. She was a little tipsy, stumbling a few times and catching herself on a wall with a light snicker. You smiled--you had never seen Nico in such a state before, the mechanic always seemed pretty focused on work and put together. It was fun, at least to you, to have a some time not spent working with all of them.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Griffon said, huffing lightly as he watched her struggle to open a simple doorknob.

Nico grinned, turning to wave at you and Lady.

“To get more booze.”

(V POV)

~ Few hours earlier~

You still hadn’t woken up from your sleep, which was heavily upsetting to the poet.

He was sitting beside you in his chair, occasionally watching your face to see if you stirred. It looked like you were heavily sleeping now, not starring with glassy black eyes anymore. Somewhere around the six hour mark, you had cleared of your symptoms, eyes closing and body relaxing onto the bed. Everyone took it as a good sign. But that was a couple hours ago, and now you were still asleep, more than likely regaining the energy you lost or repairing the damage the whole ordeal had caused. V made sure to stay by you for most of the time, only rising to stretch a few times or help Nico when she requested it. Now he was sitting again, listening to the two women quietly chat and occasionally watching Nero toss back a few energy drinks.

V had a lot on his mind. The events of the previous day had left him...hesitating, wondering what he should do. He valued your companionship, valued the closeness to you he had gained...but it put you in danger. You were willing to break yourself to protect him. You did break yourself. But he didn’t want that, wanted you safe from that kind of thing. Guilt had already been gnawing at him, but now even more was piled on. It wasn’t your fault, he blamed himself for not being strong enough. As always, his actions could have risked your life, it caused harm to your well-being. Maybe it would be best if he put some distance, just to keep you safe.

Nero walked over upon seeing V pondering, leaning against the wall nearby and holding a can of something that looked sugary and full of caffeine.

“What’s got those wheels turnin’?” He asked lightly, sliding his gaze over to you and giving you a once over, “She’s looking alright now, you should be happy.”

V let out a low hum, eyes half closed as he stared ahead and leaned on his cane. He didn’t know why, but talking to Nero felt...nice. Easy. The boy was very talkative, but he was alright with listening too as needed. His concern was nice, at least.

“It doesn’t change that my actions got her hurt,” He murmured, gripping the top of the cane and closing his eyes, “Perhaps it would be safer if she traveled with Nico.”

Nero visibly paused, can half raised to his mouth as he slid his eyes over to the poet. V wasn’t paying him a lot of attention, not noticing how Nero rose a slow brow. The white-haired boy clicked his tongue lightly, sliding past the poet to sit down on the bed right next to your sleeping form. V bit back a protest--you weren’t jostled a lot, and it definitely seems like you weren’t waking anyway. Eyes still closed, light colored lashes resting on those soft cheeks. V wanted to reach out and stroke your face, but it was highly inappropriate behavior, he knew that. But it felt so wrong not to try and do anything to comfort you after you  did everything for him.

“Hey, uh, V?” Nero said, putting a single hand on the goth’s shoulders, “How ‘bout I give you some much needed advice?”

V blinked, unsure of where the boy was going with his train of thought. Still, he replied, “Certainly.”

Nico gave a crooked smile, a bit of an exasperated look in his eyes.

“That is the dumbest idea,” He said slowly, carefully, but without heat, “That I have ever heard. And as a committed, happy man in a relationship with a wonderful woman, I’m gonna tell you why.”

V opened his mouth to reply, but not sure what to say to that.

Nero took it as an opportunity to continue, leaning back on the bed to look at you, “Take it from me, buddy. Leaving her behind would be literally the most hurtful thing you can do, and that’s so not cool,” He looked back at the poet, slate blue eyes serious for once as he met V’s gaze, “You made a mistake, sure, whatever. That’s fine. But don’t do something that’s gonna punish her just because you’re scared. You stand up, brush off the dirt, and you strive to do better. Cause I’m gonna tell you now, nothing that you say will ever convince her that it isn’t her fault, she’s gonna blame herself for your hurt pride, and that’s unfair.”

V looked away, hating how transparent he appeared in that moment. Was what he was thinking really that obvious? He’d like to hope not, but the way Nero was watching him made him think the kid was reading his exact thoughts. V griped the cane, gritting his teeth a bit as he looked down at the floor. Nero was right, he knew the boy’s words held the truth. You took on so many burdens, you went out of your way to help and do your best in every scenario. Distancing himself from you, especially after all that you had gone through on his behalf...he knew that it was wrong. Still, the thought of you getting hurt again was so unsettling.

Nero seemed to sense the poet battling with himself, letting out a slow breath.

“Y’know,” He said in a soft tone, taking on a far away look for a moment, “Kyrie was put in danger once, and the first time around I wasn’t able to protect her. She was put into a terrible situation and I wasn’t able to stop it,” He puffed out his cheeks with a breath of air, scratching the back of his head as he added, “But I never thought of leaving her because of my own weakness. I brushed off the dirt, I moved forward. I saved her, and I continue to strive to do better. For her.”

He slid his gaze back to the poet, giving him a light pat on the back and a crooked, encouraging smile.

“So cheer up,” He said simply, rising to his feet again, “Know I’ve got you back, and I know if anyone is gonna learn from his mistakes and move past them, its you.”

V met his gaze, staring for a brief moment as an understanding silence passed between the two. V gripped his cane tighter, letting out a slow breath from his lungs as he looked away.

“...Thank you, Nero.”

~Present time~

V awoke with the start, jerked out of sleep by the sound of something crashing to the floor.

His eyes whipped around, noticing right away that he was now on the bed instead of you. Panic hadn’t even had a chance to bloom before he saw you, curled up in the armchair on Lady’s lap. You were smiling and giggling, the sight balm on his wounded soul as he quickly sat up in place. Lady was giggling too, hell there was a lot of giggling going on in this room at that moment. Upon further inspection, several things continued to click in place--One, a couple empty bottles of wine littered the coffee table now. Two, you were very pink in the cheeks. Three, Nico was sitting cross legged on the floor, starting with a disgruntled expression and a broken vase sitting on the tile nearby. It looked like she had tossed a metal arm at some point and hit it. That was what woke the poet up.

Nero was awake now as well, sitting up at the dining table with a disgruntled expression, the indentation of his metal arm on his cheek and head--it also looked like someone had written “Dead Weight” on his forehead hastily with a pen. He was frowning at the scene, confusion in his eyes as he probably registered everything V had. Shadow was curled up on the couch, meeting the poet’s gaze with a low growl, alerting the other girls to look up at him.

V blinked, feeling a twinge of unease now that three female gazes were trained on him. The look in your eyes made his heart beat faster--you looked delighted to see him, though guessing by the empty bottle...alcohol was at play here. V didn’t know how to feel about that.

“Ahhh, shit,” Nico hiccuped, southern drawl slurred as she stared at V, “We woke up sleepin’ beauty.”

V felt his brow raise, coming to his feet with the use of his cane. He kept his eyes on you, taking a few steps down the stairs as he addressed the drunken group of females.

“When did she wake up?” He said in a displeased tone, plucking an empty bottle from the table and sniffing it, “Are you women drunk?”

“As a skunk,” Nico quipped cheerfully, raising another bottle that still had booze--it was pink, whatever it was, “She woke up like...an hour ago. Or two. Or three. Was it four?”

V let out a light sigh, rubbing a hand down his face. Things had escalated pretty quickly from the time he had slept to now. He looked around, frowning when he didn’t see his second familiar.

“Where is Griffon?” He asked, eyeing the plastered women warily.

“Over here…!” Griffon hissed. V turned, seeing him perched on top of the cabinets, squinting down with annoyed eyes. V rose a brow at him, tilting his head as he addressed the bird. Griffon shook out his feathers, letting out a sharp squawk before snapping, “And before you ask, I’m here because Nico kept wanting to pull out my feathers while drunk. Nowhere is safe, hide your keys, hide your kids, hide your genitals…!”

Nero yawned at the dinner table, standing up and rubbing his red cheek with a groan. He walked up to V’s side, an exasperated look as he glared at the mechanic on the floor.

“What the hell, Nico?” He asked, shaking his head lightly, “I leave you alone for a few hours and you get the girl shit-faced? What do you have to say for yourself?”

She shrugged, taking another sip of booze. Nero tried to snatch the bottle, but she was somehow faster.

“Back off, you dork ass loser,” She huffed, squinting at him and pointing a finger, “We’re having girl time…!”

You let out a low giggle at that, still firmly tucked against Lady’s chest. Lady seemed the least intoxicated of the three, or at least she was very low-key about it. V saw her smile, squeezing you against her with a light embrace, totally smitten. V scratched the back of his head--what the hell had he missed? You met his gaze again, eyes sparkling with mirth and obvious intoxication. V couldn’t help it, he gave a wry smile back, concern softening at the sight of you having an obvious good time. Though your eyes did look a little puffy, like you had been crying earlier--it was either that or just another sign of the alcohol.

“Oops,” You murmured, eyeing him and blinking a bit, “I think V is upset--are you upset?”

He thought your eyes started to tear up, making him blink in shock and confusion.

Nico let out a low noise of warning, trying to rise to her feet but stumbling all over herself. Nero caught her, letting out an exasperated sigh as Nico slurred, “Uh-oh, she’s goin’ sad again. You better shut that shit down, pretty boy.”

“Bed. Now.” Nero commanded before V could move, looking over at all the girls with an exasperated smile.

Nico huffed, “You can’t make me.”

“I’ll call Kyrie,” Nico replied, tugging her toward the door to her van, “She’ll make you.”

“That threat doesn’t work on me…!” She struggled, letting out a shriek of annoyance as she tried to reach for the arm on the floor, “I have to finish my repairs on Sweet Surrender…!”

“For fuck’s sake Nico, let it go,” Nero groaned, lifting her up by her waist and dragging her, “Why that arm of all of them?! Just stop strugglin’ and get your ass to bed!”

“I wouldn’t have to make that arm if you could find the clitoris, dumbass!” Nico’s voice faded with the closing of the door, their arguing cut short. V let out a light sigh, turning in enough time to see Lady pulling you to your feet. You were swaying a bit, wiping your eyes sleepily and easily losing your balance. Lady caught you when you started to fall, both of you giggling as you steadied. V was about to move forward, concern prickling in the back of his mind as he watched this happen. How does one go about handling intoxicated women? He couldn’t ever remember being in this situation before.

“Bed time, sweetie.” Lady hummed, eyeing V with an amused look as she suddenly pushed you in his direction. You squeaked as he suddenly caught you, your weight resting against his long form. What was Lady doing? V held you up with one hand, looking at the woman with a confused expression and heart hammering in his chest. You were warm against him, a far cry from what you had been while ill earlier. So very alive, healthy now. Your hair looked freshly cleaned, drying in waves over your shoulders. If V wasn’t mistaken, he caught the scent of mint and rosemary--it must have been the shampoo Nico uses.

“I’m going to bed,” Lady yawned, lying down on the couch with a small grin, “Make sure she gets to sleep, okay V?”

She left no room for argument--V definitely sensed shenanigans here.

Regardless, he clicked his tongue, wrapping an arm around you to help carry you to the bed. Griffon launched himself from the cabinets, latching onto your shoulders to help. You had your eyes half closed, blinking blearily and putting up no fight at all, the opposite of Nico. You also let out a light sigh, leaning your cheek against his chest, making the poet realize he was still without his vest-coat. The sensation of your lips brushing his skin made him feel like he had to clear his throat, gently setting you down on the bed.

“Are you alright?” He murmured, tilting your chin up gently to get a look at you, “You’re flushed. Absolutely wasted.”

You smiled lightly, closing your eyes and saying quietly, “I’m okay,” You then paused, face slowly switching to what he recognized as guilt as you let your gaze drift away, “I…I’m sorry.”

V’s lips parted, his expression softening a bit as he stared down at you, “Why are you apologizing?” He asked gently, cupping your jaw a bit to turn your gaze back to him.

Your eyes teared up, a sight that made his heart ache terribly.

“Everyone had to wait a day because of me,” You hiccuped lightly, words slightly slurred, “And I...I lied to you, earlier. I’m...sorry.”

V paused, breath catching as Nero’s earlier words echoed in his head. No matter what he said you were going to blame yourself. Clearly you were, the guilt was very obvious on your face while you were drunk. You looked like you were about to cry, eyes a little misty and a definite look of vulnerability on your face. V couldn’t remember a time when he had seen you like this, on the verge of tears and so sensitive. And soft. He could tell a few of your walls had been broken down, everything was different after the entire ordeal. Something about it made him want to draw you into his arms and hold you, cradle you to his chest and dry your tears. He could feel Griffon watching you both, unusually quiet from where he perched on the bed post. But...still.

V tilted your head back up, wiping some of the tears from your eyes with his thumbs. He pressed his lips to your forehead, just like did earlier. Your skin was warm, and soft. You sucked in a sharp breath, shoulders relaxing a bit and eyes closing gently. V thought he heard Griffon chuckle, but the bird looked away, humming lightly like he was minding his own business. He definitely wasn’t. Still, V tried to ignore him, pulling back from you softly so he could murmur in your ear.

“It was my error,” His voice was low, breathy, “Please don’t worry yourself--we all needed today, I think. And tomorrow is another day.”

You let out a low murmur, cheeks adorably pink as you replied to him, “O..Okay…”

V smiled softly, smoothing some of your hair away. He then turned, walking to the other side of the bed so he could lie down beside you--luckily this bed was big enough to accommodate you both easily. He stretched out his form, reaching out a hand to grasp your hand and tug lightly. He expected you to lay down further away from him, facing the opposite direction as you had that first night. But you, as always, were full of surprises.

You turned, eyes already half closed as you slid under the covers, directly facing him. You looked completely out of it, eyes a bit hazy as you laid your head down on the pillow..inches from his own. He blinked, breath catching lightly as his heart pounded in his chest. Somehow, being this close to you was...he couldn’t describe it.

You were still holding his hand, pressing it gently to the underside of your face as your eyes began to close, cradling it tenderly. V couldn’t stop himself, he stroked his thumb over your cheek. You looked so gentle, and peaceful. A far cry from the pain and fear earlier, it set his heart at ease. He wanted to say something to you, but he didn’t know what. He wanted to bridge the gap between you, but didn’t know how. He was at a loss, unable to shake the feeling of urgency his mind was telling him.

Griffon curled up on the bed beside his head, seeing his expression and letting out a low chortle. He leaned over, hissing in his ear, “Look at you, lover boy. Like a deer frozen in the headlights,” He nudged his back with a claw, adding in an encouraging whisper, “She’s had a rough day, lover boy. She was cryin’ earlier. She can use the support right now.” His tone had a meaningful edge, borderline a warning for the conflicted poet.

You had been crying? He desperately hated the fact that he hadn’t been awake to help you, but he couldn’t change the past. He could only change what happened now.

So he swallowed his fear, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer. You let out a light murmur of confusion, now right against him and blinking blearily. Your hands cradled between your bodies, pressed to his chest, both of his arms holding you. The embrace felt right, warm, and gentle. He rested his chin in your hair, inhaling the light scent of mint and rosemary as he counted your breaths. He thought he heard you let out a soft sound of relief, body relaxing against his and face nuzzling into your chest. You were smiling now, he could feel that, your gentle breathing brushing his skin with every passing second.

“Goodnight.” You mumbled softly, legs gently stretching against his.

V felt his heart calming, he knew you could hear it. He felt Shadow curl up behind you, then Griffon behind him--both seemed pretty content as well.

And for once in his life, so was he.

“Goodnight, little sparrow.”

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18136193/chapters/43165127

Like what you see? Consider buying me a coffee <3 : https://ko-fi.com/E1E7GCMU

Tagged: @silentwhispofhope @nightshadow4713 @just-call-me-no-name @slightlylunatic @efiicitia

[youngbloodbuzz]

For the DnD character asks: 7, 17, and 27! For both Andromeda and Venia!

gkjdslgnasd thank u god BLESS

7. What fictional character are they most like? Was this an intentional or accidental influence?

andromeda: she’s actually pretty original, mostly taking a few things from an oc idea i had for a scifi thing, but just adapted bit to a dnd fantasy setting. though if she had to remind me of another fictional character it’d prolly be like …o h my god she’s xena lmfao just with amnesia, no evil past, and with a love of reading 

venia: venia on the other hand was a blatant ripoff of morgana pendragon lmfao but then over time she evolved into her own, with her own specific kind of story, and then i realized later on that she accidentally became like a combination of morgana, daenerys targaryen, and aragorn lmao i love it though she’s a lot of fun and i’m super excited to play her

17. What’s their favorite food?

andromeda: you could say she’s still figuring it out, she ate absolute garbage and very little of it for like two years in the underdark so she has a small appetite but willing to try absolutely everything, though she has a penchant for some relaxing tea

venia: she’s a princess so like. she has Acquired Tastes for some real expensive shit, the kind of stuff grrm would go on for a paragraph describing in asoiaf, but i think she genuinely has a real hankering for blood sausage of all things

27. They’re at a tavern. They bump into a big burly angry drunk with a combative attitude. What happens?

andromeda: funny enough, outside of actual life-endangering combat, she actually tends to avoid physical conflicts. she for sure has a temper, more than i expected her to have, but she doesn’t see much purpose or reason to physically hurt someone outside of real combat. thought for a situation like that, if it just kept escalating and buddy won’t stop, she’d most likely just break his nose before tossing him outside l o l

venia: her charisma stats are gonna be bonkers, so she’d prolly try to dismiss them at first before actually threatening to burn their eyebrows off with a sweet smile while lighting her hands on fire lmao