#I had to go job centre and it started to rain

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet-Cute - Zoro's Story - 3

Source for pic

Trouble 3

Word Count: 4959

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Protective!Zoro; Soft!Zoro; Sexual Tension; Teasing; Flirting; Mature Audiences (I'll always tag the NSFW chapters); Modern Day AU; Reader is being stalked; Fear; Paranoia; Angst; Rom-Com Vibes; Mild Gore-like Descriptions; Blood; Dead Animals Mentioned; Reader in a terror-like state; Fluff; Romance; Banter; Manipulation; Miscommunication; Frustration; Reader is very clumsy;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Zoro are slowly returning to your easy friendship filled with banter and flirting and you actually begin to glimpse a future with the green-haired cop. But then you start to receive weird gifts. They quickly escalate to manipulative texts. And now you're stuck in a spiral of terror and there's no way to get help because the Stalker, whoever he is, is threatening something other than just your life.

Notes: I should have chapter 4 already finished... but it's not completed yet... I haven't written almost anything this week! I know with the hollidays it will be hectic around here, but I have a few days where the office is going to be closed, so maybe I can write a bit more! Fingers crossed! Until then, please enjoy the calmness before the storm!

Masterlist

“Morning, Bug.” Shanks fills a mug of coffee for you and sets it down on the table near your plate of bacon and eggs, beside a bouquet of wildflowers. 

“Morning, Dad. Thanks for the coffee, but aren't the flowers a bit too much? It's not my birthday…” You mumble between yawns. 

“They're not from me…” Shanks smirks and nods at a note that's tucked in with the silk ribbon. 

Brow rising, your fingers brush the petals of a deep crimson poppy before they catch the note between them. ‘Wild and beautiful, just like you.’

What? Who? 

Despite the lovely gesture, you can't shake the slightest feeling of unease, it tugs at your stomach, leaving you queasy and suspicious. 

“Who's it from?” Shanks tries to hide his curiosity but falls short when he reaches over your shoulder to glimpse the note. 

“I have no idea.”

“Come on! Not even the slightest hint?” You shake your head while your mind conjures up images of a slightly not-safe-for-work dream you had with a certain green-haired cop, and you blush unintentionally. 

Obviously. Shanks picks it up. 

“You and Zoro seemed pretty cosy when I arrived yesterday…”

“It's not from him… I think.” You deflect the implications, not wanting to read too much into it yourself. “He’s not the type for grand gestures.”

Shanks hums in agreement while placing his coffee cup in the sink. “I see what you mean.” But then he places his hand on your shoulder, forcing you to look at his unbearable smirk. “Though do not underestimate a man in love.”

“Dad!” You feel your ears getting hot as you get up suddenly, looking for a vase to set the flowers on. 

“I’m just saying.” He shrugs. 

“He’s not… we… we’re just friends! I just got back.” You fuss with the flowers until they’re all spread beautifully on the vase and then set them at the centre of the table.

Shanks pouts and stares at you through the flowers, across from you. “Friends.” He air quotes with two fingers. “I’ve been there, Bug.”

“Agh! You’re impossible, Dad.”

But he might also be right. Because if last night was any indication, you and Zoro might be crossing the ‘just friends’ barrier soon. 

And, honestly, there’s nothing wrong with that. 

-*-

Shanks tells you to put a hold on your job hunt because he’ll be gone for about three weeks to a month for a horse show on an island in the South Blue and he’ll need you to take care of the animals and manage the farm chores. 

So you spend the next week getting reacquainted with most of your father’s tasks in addition to the ones you had taken over ever since coming back. 

The gifts keep coming. 

Every morning there are chocolates, or flowers, or stuffed animals, little trinkets… The notes are rather simple, always evoking your beauty, but short and nondescript. You are no closer to knowing who they’re from now than you were on the first day you got them.

Shanks keeps hinting that it might be Zoro, but you doubt that very much. Besides the fact that he’s not one for romantic gestures, he would’ve said something about the gifts after six straight days.

And it’s not like you haven’t been chatting… not in person, since you’ve been busy at the farm and he’s been pulling double shifts to have the Saturday off again, but you text every day.

Short texts, to the point, much like Zoro is, but he always asks how you are and if you need anything. 

And knowing he’s trying to take care of you leaves a very warm feeling in your chest. Especially because your clumsiness almost brought you to the clinic twice just this week. You have to thank whichever deity is watching over you because, even though you hurt yourself, it’s never serious enough to send you to the hospital. 

“When are you leaving?” You ask Shanks while packing beverages, muffins and a cake you’ve baked for today’s chosen group activity. 

“Let’s see, today’s Saturday, Beckman says his helper will arrive Monday morning to keep in charge of his farm, so sometime Monday afternoon, Bug. Why? Missing your Daddy already?”

You are.

“No! I just want to make sure you carry all of your medicine and that you have Dr. Law’s emergency contact with you, in case you need it–”

“I’m not going to drag Law all the way to the South Blue just because–”

“I called him and he said you should call anytime, so you’re going to call if you need him!”

“Fine!”

“Fine!” Shanks has got to be the most stubborn man you’ve ever met. 

“Where are you going?” He hisses when you swat his hand away as he tries to steal a salty bacon muffin you’re storing in a container. Then you relent and let him have it.

“Just one, Dad! We’re going on a picnic in the park.” You say with a grin. “Nami organised it, of course. We’re going to spend the day hanging out, playing games, and socializing.” 

Shanks nods, never breaking your gaze, while trying to surreptitiously steal another muffin. This time you slap his hand with the lid of the container, and he yelps. His pout is quickly replaced by a smirk. “Is Officer Zoro going?”

You’re sure your nonchalant look can’t disguise the crimson blush tainting your cheeks, but you try to pay it no mind.  “Yes. And Luffy, and Usopp, Chopper, Sanji–”

“I was going to tell you to be careful, but I’m sure Officer Zoro is going to keep you safe from all harm.” Shanks taunts and you seethe, hands flying to your hips. 

“What are you, Dad, ten?” He guffaws as he successfully manages to distract you and steals another muffin before sprinting away from you and the kitchen.

“Be safe, Bug! Have fun!”

Seriously. How is this man a father?

-*-

Nami swings by your house with Vivi to pick you up for the picnic. You notice Robin’s absence in the car, and both girls giggle.

“Sabo’s picking Robin up. They’ll meet us there.” Vivi answers, and your mouth hangs open.

“Are they a thing?”

“Not yet, but it shouldn’t be long.” Nami laughs as she fixes her hair in the rearview mirror while waiting for the light to turn green. “Much like you and Zoro, I think.”

You choke on your own saliva, and it takes you a good minute to regain proper breathing functions, all while Nami and Vivi erupt into cackles and giggles. 

“We’re just friends!” You say after you’ve caught your breath.

“Sure, honey. We all believe that.” Vivi turns on the front seat to pat your knee in a condescending manner while you blush. 

“There’s so much heat coming off you two whenever you’re close that I don’t know how you still haven’t spontaneously combusted.” Nami quips, and you purse your lips. She’s not wrong there. “I mean, you’ve always sort of clicked, but now… daaaaamn!”

You sigh and bite your lip, trying to contain a giggle from erupting. “Who else is going to meet us there?” You ask, changing the subject and Nami shakes her head, knowing all too well what you’re doing, but not pressing on the matter. 

-*-

It’s a beautiful day for a picnic, and the park is the perfect setting for the beginning of a wonderful midday. There are rows and rows of trees, shade galore, small cobblestone pathways for long walks, and even a small creek providing a soft lull alongside the soft giggles of children. 

You and the girls are setting up rows of blankets on the grass, by the shade of the tall trees, when the group begins to arrive. You lift your head, hand sheltering your eyes from the sun, and scan the crowd. Luffy, Barto, Usopp, Kaya, and Chopper are approaching the treeline. They probably rode together.

A slight breeze dishevels your hair as your eyes linger behind, but there’s no green mane of hair in sight yet. An absent sigh leaves your lips before you spy Nami’s knowing smirk aimed your way.

She doesn’t say anything, but you blush anyway. Her unspoken words linger around you like a thick fog. You are eager to see Zoro. She knows it, you know it, hell, anyone who saw you two interact lately knows it. 

But you vow to retain some semblance of dignity and pretend to fuss over the blankets and small folding chairs. You’re so absorbed in your task that you don’t even see him approach.

“Hey there, Troublemaker, making trouble?”

The smile that graces your lips is instant and unstoppable. You turn slightly and bite your lower lip when your eyes meet his. Why does every shirt he wears seem so tight against his muscles?

“Hardly! I’m just setting up chairs!” But as you deliver the words, the chair you were opening snaps shut, almost catching your fingers, and you yelp. 

“You’re a menace.” His tone is both amused and resigned, almost as if he knew something of the kind would happen, was expecting it, even. 

“It attacked me!” You defend yourself weakly, a giggle bubbling up in your chest because he is right. You are a menace.

Zoro ends up helping you set the chairs, and you don’t even try to stop him. Both because you’re very likely to end up either hurting yourself or breaking a chair, and because he keeps brushing his shoulders and hands with yours, and the touch is welcomed. 

Robin and Sabo arrive with flushed cheeks - you can almost see Nami registering that fact for later probing - and soon after, Franky and Brook, two older men you still haven’t met but Luffy quickly introduces you to, saying they’re also part of the gang. 

You see Sanji already setting up food on the blankets, and he greets you warmly. “Hi, Sanji. You rode with Mosshead?”

“Oi?” Zoro snaps, and you ignore him.

“I did, Madame, and it was the most unpleasant ride of my life. Please remind me not to do it again.”

You giggle when Zoro’s brows knit together, his hands clenched into fists. “Tch, shitty cook, next time you ride with me, it will be in my patrol car and I’ll be dragging you straight to prison.”

Sanji starts to fume, his pursed lips crumpling the cigarette dangling from his lips, and you grimace. “Hey, hey, boys, it was just a joke!”

Nami sighs as they butt heads and continue arguing. “Never mind that.” She tells you. “Any chance they get to get up close and personal, they take it. They have a weird bromance thing going on.” She raises her hands defensively in the air. “I swear, for a moment there I thought they were going to be a thing, but Sanji loves women too much and Zoro is a man with a goal-oriented mind. Even if it’s someone he set his sights on a lifetime ago.”

Your brow raises at her as she smirks that all-knowing smirk. But she leaves it at that and stands in the middle of the boys, dragging Sanji by the scruff of his dress shirt, telling him the girls are hungry, which promptly sets him back to the task of setting up the food. 

“Shitty cook…” You hear Zoro mumble as he sets his hands in his pockets and kicks a blade of grass. It’s cute how flustered he gets. Then his eye sets on you and he frowns with a low grumble. “Oi, I didn’t forget you called me Mosshead.”

You set a hand on your heart, feigning repentance. “Oh, do forgive me, Mr. Mosshead. I forgot your title.”

“Trouble…” He lowers his tone in mock warning, and you smile, taking a step back, hands in a defensive stance. 

“Lord Moss, Knight–” Your antics are cut short by a piercing yelp when Zoro jumps and tries to catch you, but somehow, you swerve away from his grasp and start to run, an unbridled laugh filling your lungs. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I was just joking!”

“Repentance doesn’t dissolve the crime! Come here, Trouble!” He sprints, though you suspect he’s hardly even trying, and you cackle, running faster, the voices of the group fading into the distance. 

“You’ll have to catch me first!” Maybe you should’ve measured your words, because as soon as he hears the challenging tone in your voice, he sprints faster, and you barely have time to breathe before his arm wraps around your waist and he swirls you in the air, making you scream and laugh before he pulls your back against his chest.

Heart pounding against your ribs, cheeks flushed from running and breath catching in your throat, you feel your legs shaking when Zoro’s warm breath tickles your neck. “Gotcha.” He whispers, and you notice he’s not even out of breath while you look like you ran a marathon. 

The world dissolves into just this moment. The chirping of the birds and the rustling of the trees are nothing but background noise to the deafening pounding in your chest and the buzzing in your ears. 

Turning your head slightly to the side, you catch Zoro’s eye fixed on you, a wild smirk on his lips. “What now, officer? Are you going to arrest me?”

Damn. That was supposed to come out playfully, not sultrily. Right?

“Depends.” Did his voice get huskier? “Are you going to resist arrest, Trouble?”

You feel your throat bobbing up and down at all the wild fantasies running through your mind. The way he uses that nickname manages to send shivers down your spine and heat straight into your core. 

“Obviously.” You sound breathless, and it's a good thing you can blame that sorry state on the run, or you wouldn't know how to explain it. 

“Figures.” He chuckles low, and you feel it rumbling in his chest. Then, with a swift movement, he turns you, bends his knees, and hoists you up, slinging you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. 

“Wha–”

“Let's go.” Your flush deepens as you feel his strong hand against the back of your thighs, holding you in place. “The humiliation will teach you not to call me Mosshead.”

“Come on, Zo, I said I was sorry!” You whine, and he stiffens, his pace slowing for a beat, and you feel his shoulders shake slightly. Then he resumes his pace. 

“I like that.”

You stop pounding your fists against his back and raise your brow. “What? Me apologizing?”

He grunts and keeps walking, the blanket and your laughing friends nearly in sight. “That nickname. Way better than Mosshead.”

Oh! Zo! Another small blush creeps into your cheeks, but before you can reply, Nami whistles. “What you got there, Zoro?”

You hear your friends laughing and bury your face in your hands, feeling mortified. “Someone’s been naughty.” Zoro replies with a smirk and an edge of amusement in his tone. 

“Seriously?” You grumble, pushing against his back to try and wiggle out of his embrace, though it’s all for naught because he has an iron grip on your legs. 

“Well, either set her down so we can all eat or take her to naughty jail and punish her. Away from our sight, please.” 

“Nami!” You yell, exasperated, but Zoro merely chuckles, swerving right as if changing directions. 

“Naughty jail it is, then.”

“No, no!” You whimper. “I’m sorry!” Chopper stares at both of you, not sure if you’re being serious, so you try to take advantage of him and stretch your hand. “Help me, Chopper!”

He reaches his hand out before Nami swats it away. “Let them be, Chopper. They need some alone time.”

You seethe at Nami, a pout on your lips. “Traitor.”

Zoro lets out a low chuckle before settling you down at the edge of the blanket. “Learned your lesson, Troublemaker?”

You steady yourself, hands against his chest, and a permanent blush tattooed on your cheeks. “Damn you. I’m never calling you Mosshead again. You won.”

“I see you’re a fast learner.” His smirk is impossibly smug. “Zo’s fine, though.” Then he turns his back on you, opens the small cooler, and takes out a beer, cracking it open with one hand and chugging at it without another look back at you. 

And, damn it, if that doesn’t mess with your heart.

-*-

“Who wants another drink?” You ask and count the raised hands before getting up, heading towards the cooler to satiate your friends’ thirst. Zoro moves his hand before you reach it, and smooths the blanket before you can trip on its raised edge.

You smile at him, but he’s not even looking at you. His eye is shut, one arm behind his neck as he leans against the tree, though you know very well he’s attentive to everything. You pass the drinks around, then return to get your own.

“Watch your head.” Zoro mumbles, and you raise your brow but don’t heed his advice and, therefore, hit a low branch of the tree, releasing a string of curses while rubbing your forehead. “When are you going to start listening to me, Trouble?”

“When you stop sounding like a smug jerk.” You mouth, annoyed at his attentiveness and at how he seems to perceive danger before you even realise it’s there. He chuckles and you retrieve your drink, returning to your seat.

After a while of relaxing in the shade, Luffy drags everyone to a frisbee game. The boys are all down to play, but the girls just sit by a bench near the open space the boys chose to throw the frisbee and tackle each other. 

You sit on the back of the bench, a case of water bottles by your feet because you know the boys will be thirsty soon. Vivi sits on the grass in front of Nami’s legs, and Robin and Kaya are on the bench. 

After a small chit-chat about meaningless stuff, you decide to bring up something that’s been bothering you. “So I’ve been getting a lot of gifts lately…”

Four heads whip your way, and you sigh, already expecting that reaction and the bombardment of questions that follow. So you raise your hands, and they stop to let you continue. Though you decide to focus on the game in front of you instead of the way they’re all staring at you.

You especially focus on a very athletic green-haired man who constantly gazes up to where you are before focusing back on the game. 

“It’s flowers, chocolates, stuffed animals… It started last weekend, after the party at Luffy’s. They have notes, but nothing personal. No name, no nothing… I don’t know who they’re from, and I don’t even know if I should be flattered or freaked out by them.”

“How do they make you feel?” Robin asks, and you shrug, not quite knowing how to answer that question.

“The first ones made me feel good. I thought they were from– I thought I might know who they were from. But since he didn’t say anything about it, I doubt they're from him. So now they just feel weird…”

“Honey, we all know you’re talking about Zoro.” Nami says in a very condescending manner, and all the girls agree.

You sigh and bury your face in your hands. You’re so obvious it hurts. 

“Fine, yes. I thought they might’ve come from him, at first. But he’s not one for romantic gestures.”

“I wouldn’t say that, exactly.” Nami quipped back, a smirk tugging her lips as her eyes fell back on the game. Sure enough, Zoro’s eyes are back on the bench - on you, to be more specific. “I think it’s quite romantic the way he’s always checking to see if you’re safe. Keeping you away from trouble and making sure you don’t hurt yourself.”

A small blush creeps its way into your cheeks. It is quite romantic. “That’s just Zoro being Zoro. He’s a cop. He protects and serves.” You roll your eyes.

“Oh, I’m sure he would like to serve you.” Nami giggles and all the girls try to stifle their own laughs. “But you’re wrong about that. Sure, he’s always attentive to any kind of threats, but it’s different with you.”

“What do you mean?” You can’t stop the way your heart pounds maddeningly against your sternum. 

“She means that Zoro doesn’t usually go out of his way to keep people from tripping on stuff or from bumping their head. And with you, he’s always extra careful.” Robin finishes with a small smile. 

“Like the way he’s playing now, but keeps looking at you to see if you’re still in one piece. It’s like he’s expecting you to spontaneously combust or something.” Kaya adds with a giggle. 

“It’s very endearing.” Vivi finishes, and your blush deepens, so you bury your head back into your hands, stifling a loud groan. 

“But you’re still right.” Nami continues as if you’re not breaking down in front of them. “I don’t think he’s the one leaving the gifts…” She laughs suddenly. “But there’s one way to tell for sure.”

You raise your head from your hand cocoon to tell her to keep her mouth shut, but Zoro is already halfway to the bench and you squeak. “Nami…”

“Hey, Zoro!” She starts with a wave of her hand. You see Zoro raise his eyebrow at her, his long strides bringing him closer to the bench. 

Shit.

He’s sweaty all over. Fat droplets of perspiration drop from his temples to his perfect jawline and neck, and you gulp, feeling hot and bothered. So, it comes as no surprise that when he reaches his hand to grab a bottle between your legs, you lose your balance and fall back on the bench.

Yelping, you expect to hit the floor with a dry thud, air escaping your lungs and sharp pain blinding you. Instead, you feel a strong hand wrap around your forearm and tug hard, then your face being squished against a muscular, sweaty chest.

Zoro saved you from an ugly fall. Again.

“Seriously, Trouble? Why?” His voice is gravelly and rough, but with an edge of exasperation lacing it. “I’m starting to feel like I have to be with you 24/7 or you’re going to end up in the hospital.”

Your breath is still leaving your lips in ragged gasps because of the slight scare of facing an inevitable fall, and your face is still pressed against Zoro’s chest. You feel the girls’ gaze on both of you and Zoro seems completely unfazed by it, while saying you’re embarrassed would be the understatement of the year.

So you disentangle yourself from the predicament that is Zoro’s muscles and laugh it off, a hand scratching the back of your neck. “Ah, thank you. I got… distracted.”

“By what?” He asks while taking a sip of water.

“Well, Zoro,” Nami begins, and he shifts his focus to her, “we were discussing who could be her secret admirer, and then you showed up. Curious.”

“Secret admirer?” Zoro’s gaze falls back on you, his brow scrunched.

“Ah, no. It’s nothing like that. It’s just–”

“She’s been getting gifts. Flowers, chocolates, love declarations…” Why is Nami exaggerating? Is she trying to fish for information or make Zoro jealous? “You wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with it, would you?”

He drinks the water in three long gulps before answering, his scowl now permanently etched on his lips. “Do I look like the kind of guy who would do that?”

You look down and bite your lower lip. You knew it wasn’t him, but maybe, secretly, there was still a little part of you that hoped he could be showering you with that kind of attention. 

“Well, I just thought–” Nami begins, but she’s swiftly interrupted by Zoro, whose eyes can’t seem to leave your figure.

“When I want someone, I make it clear I’m interested. You’ll know.” He finishes drinking the water just as your eyes meet his, and the fire burning there scalds and melts. Was he telling you he’s interested? Was he saying he’s about to make a move?

With a smirk, he turns his back, grunts a gruff ‘try not to fall again, Trouble’, and gets back to the game, leaving you more confused than ever. 

“Did he–” Nami starts.

“Nobody says anything. We’re going to act like nothing happened.” You mumble before getting up and chugging down an entire bottle of water yourself to try and calm your nerves.

It doesn’t work.

-*-

The frisbee game makes everyone tired - and hungry - so, after all the bellies are filled again, the crew is relaxing in the blanket, enjoying the warmth of the late afternoon and the lulling sounds of the park. 

Chopper, Usopp, Luffy, and Barto are enjoying a card game. Franky seems interested, but he’s only overseeing and throwing advice that only seems to make Usopp lose the game. Robin has a book in her hands and Sabo’s head on her lap, his eyes closed with a blissful smile on his lips. 

You have serious doubts that she's paying attention to the book, especially since she seems to be stuck on the same page for over ten minutes, but you don’t say anything. Kaya is braiding Vivi’s hair and Nami is snapping photos of the crew, taking little candid shots with her cellphone. Brook is gracing everyone with a nice, mellow song on his violin - he's a wonderful musician - and Zoro seems to be sleeping peacefully, leaning against the tree.

Everything seems peaceful, quiet, and idyllic. 

But you can’t seem to shake the feeling of unease in the pit of your stomach. It’s like someone is watching you, but you can’t quite pinpoint who or where. It’s a prickling on your neck, something you’re already growing so used to that you start to think you should have this checked out by a doctor. 

With a heavy sigh, you stand up, stretching your arms to justify that action. “I’ll be back soon.” You say softly to Nami, who’s closer to you and she nods. Then, you look around before taking a step. The park is one big open space - with the exception of some trees here and there - except for the dense treeline behind you. 

So that’s where you’re headed. 

-*-

Zoro senses you getting up and opens his eye slowly, following you with his gaze and scowling when you don’t see the tree root sticking out and stumble a little before steadying your pace. 

You’re such a damn klutz.

And damn it, if he doesn’t want to be there to catch you and protect you from everything. 

His heart constricts slightly at the thought, and he sighs softly. He thought absence had made him forget how he felt about you. He even had some ‘relationships’ while you were away. Wait… can he really call something that never went past three months a real relationship? He never truly bonded with those women. Never truly cared.

No one ever made him feel the way you did.

The way you do.

But time and distance did nothing but make him pine harder for you. When Nami told him casually that you were returning, he almost didn’t believe her. You didn’t even come back for any of the holidays or to say ‘hi’, let alone come back for good after experiencing life in the big city. 

But you returned.

And then he thought he wouldn’t quite forgive you for having literally abandoned them. No text, no email, no letter, nothing. He would be salty, at least. Grumpy and upset, at most.

But he forgave you instantly. 

One look at your dishevelled form, chasing a goddamned tire with dirt all over your clothes and face, and he was a lovestruck teenager again. 

Fucking heart, what a useless organ. 

All those thoughts forgotten, he simply reached out. And you reached back, almost like no time had passed between you, and you could basically continue your story where you left off. 

And he was willing to try.

Though he didn’t want to rush too fast - damn Nami should just stop intruding and let you two figure things out yourselves. He’d get there. He almost kissed you already, so the feeling is mutual. 

He’s got time.

Sitting up, he watches as you peek behind trees, a cautious demeanour to your posture making him raise his brow. What the hell are you doing?

“Just go to her, dumbass.”

“Shut up, Witch. Mind your own business.”

Nami sticks her tongue out at him and snaps a picture of his grouchy face before turning her phone towards you and snapping another candid shot. 

“You look like a lost puppy in love. It’s cute, you know? The way you keep looking out for her.” Zoro feels his ears heat up and leans back again, trying to close his eye and return to a state of relaxation, but he can’t very well do that when you’re doing God-knows-what near the trees, looking creepily at everywhere and everything. “Just make sure you make your move soon… or maybe that secret admirer will one-up you and poof!” She makes an exploding gesture with her hand, and Zoro scowls at her. 

“You’re insufferable.” He quips before getting up and dusting his jeans.

“Word of the day? How smart of you, Zoro.” She giggles when Zoro passes by her and messes up her hair with his hand, earning an indignant gasp from the orange-haired girl. “I just went to the salon, you brute!”

Zoro smirks at her reaction and starts pacing towards you, Nami’s antics behind him. Well… all except one…

‘Make sure you make your move soon…’

Perhaps he should. He doesn’t want to lose you before even having the chance to have you.

Tag list: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @lycoriskalmia @daydreamer-in-training @iloveyoushanks

|Chapter 4|

[bullet-prooflove]

The Cult of Wellness: Colter Shaw x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @inlovewithcharmers @mckinleysbones @lou-bubbles @gatefleet

Companion piece to:

Stay (NSFW) - Colter can never ask for you to stay.

The Maybe Girl (NSFW) - Colter makes a mistake by revealing his feelings for you.

Snow - Colter makes a realisation when you end up staying the night in Nebraska.

The Restless One - Colter never sticks around in one place until now.

For six weeks Colter Shaw drops off the face of the earth. The only time anyone hears from him is the weekly call he has set up with Velma so she doesn’t get concerned and send someone looking for him. Even she doesn’t know what he’s up to, just that all jobs are suspended until further notice.

He spends that time outdoors with you, living off the land, bathing in the waterfalls and making love to the sound of the rain as it bounces off the roof of the airstream. This is the kind of future he has always envisioned for the two of you, but right now it’s one that he knows can never last.

You still haven’t told him what drove you here. He picks up hints, enough to conduct his own research and what he finds, it turns his stomach. There’s a wellness centre back in California that’s being investigated by the FBI, it’s had been run by influencer and sociopath Laura Delmore, who preaches that her remedies can cure the illnesses that modern medicine can’t.

The cult of wellness you’d called it, one night when you were cuddled up by the campfire underneath the blanket his mother had lovingly weaved.

The two of you aren’t adverse to natural remedies, you both grew up learning how to utilise the wilderness to cure one’s ailments. It’s the other stuff you’re opposed to, people who are losing their homes, cashing in their belongings for a placebo that is never going to work. Laura Delmore was building her fortune on pain and desperation and Colter thinks you tried to stop it.

He asks Bobby to dig into the files, send him a copy of everything he finds. It takes a couple of hours but he gets the notification on his phone in the late afternoon. You’re out on a trip to town, grabbing a few necessities, coffee, steaks and a couple of books from the local library, so he boots up his computer and starts to go through them.

There’s one name that sticks out and Colter realises why you fell off his radar six months ago. It had nothing to do with your commitment issues. It was because Delmore had killed your sister, the one you escaped the cult with.

Alongside peddling her placebos Delmore, treated mental health issues with ayahuasca, psilocybin and peyote, charging her clients a hefty fee for her tea ceremonies. Your sister Skye had always struggled in the aftermath of the cult and she thought this might be a way to ease her suffering. The ayahuasca ceremony was heralded as a cure for PTSD on social media, a way to escape your demons.

The thing about ayahuasca? It doesn’t react well with anti-depressants, especially not in large doses. It had caused a seizure and instead of calling an ambulance, they’d simply moved Skye to one of the meditations rooms so it wouldn’t upset the other guests at the retreat. When they’d returned hours later they found her cold and unresponsive.

Skye’s death, it broke you.

You’d decided to start your own investigation and that woman, she had seen you coming a mile away. She’d had her lawyers had put together a dossier of relatives in case of an impending lawsuit, she knew exactly who you were and what you did, and of course, she wanted to find out what you knew.

The dosing starts when she offers you a cup of tea in her office. He knows this because Denmore records the interaction, the same way she does with her tea ceremonies and her one to one sessions. Clients are encouraged to purge not only their bodies but their secrets and one can make a lot of money if you know the right buttons to push.

There are three recordings in total, one for each of the days they keep you there and every single one of them is fucking harrowing. The fact that someone has done this to you makes Colter want to commit a murder, an impulse he’s never felt throughout through the duration of his years on this earth.

The only reason they stop is because they accidently overdose you, seeing them carry your limp, unresponsive body out of that room, it devastates him because in that moment he knows just how close he came to losing you.

He manages to piece together the next couple of days from police and hospital reports. You were found in a dumpster by a homeless man, ten miles away from the centre, tossed away like trash. It’s clear to him that they had thought you were dead when they disposed of you. You were just a messy loose end that needed cleaning up.

When you wake up, the first thing you do is call a friend in the FBI and after that all manner of hell rains down on Laura Denmore and her ‘wellness retreat’. He has to stop reading then because he hears your car pulling up outside the Airstream.

He’s quiet as he helps you unpack the groceries, lost in his own thoughts. It’s a miracle to him that you’re even functioning right now, a testament to your strength, your resilience.

It’s after he gets out of the shower that you climb into his lap, you’re wearing that threadbare grey t-shirt of his, the one he keeps especially for you. His arms wrap around you, cradling you close as he buries his face in the curve of your throat.

“You know don’t you?” You whisper, your lips featherlight against his temple. “You know what they did to me.”

His grip on you tightens and you sigh sadly because the bubble you’ve been living in for the past six weeks is broken and it’s time to face reality again.

“They broke me Colter.” You confess into the air between you. “Every single horrible thing that has ever happened to me came flooding back and I don’t know how to heal from that. I can’t seem to figure out how to put myself back together.”

“I’ll help you.” He tells you resolutely, tilting his head up to meet your gaze. “You’re not alone, I’m right here with you.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[paperclips37]

Surprisingly got this finished!

Rating has changed.

------

Frank sourly reminded himself that he really should check the weather before going out for a run. Mel was always warning him. His hair plastered uncomfortably to his forehead. He was beginning to shiver worryingly as he wrangled a dripping wet dog back in from the deluge. Suddenly downpour had taken both by surprise. Abby had taken the kids to see her sister. A sister who was terrified of dogs. Or just wanted an excuse to annoy Frank. Rachel had a weird sense of humour. But Zeus was easy company. Droolly and chaotic but better than being alone.

‘Zeus. Come!’ Frank glared at the dog who was whining at him. The messier the weather the better for Zeus. He supposed naming him Zeus jinxed him. God of the sky and thunder. Should have named him Percy. The infernal adorable creature had slipped free and was now an entirely different shade of brown. Zeus could not resist a mud puddle. Or pit. Frank had tripped, released the leash and the dog had taken full advantage.

‘Jesus Christ.’ Eventually Zeus took pity on his part time owner/sitter, trotting over lead clamped in his mouth. Triumphant to Franks misery.

‘Oh you are so kind Zeus. Kinda afraid of getting pneumonia boy.’ Frank scooped up the lead and hurried back to his house. Zeus’s bounding spattering Frank with mud.

This was going to be a nightmare to clean.

He was correct on that count. Zeus loved the rain and mud. But a warm shower spray was the devil. His bathroom was covered in mud and paw prints. As was Frank. Zeus was hiding in Tanner’s bedroom. Dry and clean thank fuck. Frank was properly freezing, a hot shower was needed stat. He quickly stripped off.

A shower that felt like heaven, also benefit of halving his cleaning job. Hosing down the mud in the shower. Fresh and warm sweat pants a soothing delight after a cold afternoon.

Frank pottered around, Zeus bouncing around looking for his dinner. The lure of food enough to be forgiven for the injustice of the shower. He sat on the kitchen island watching Zeus devour his food. The wagging tail a soothing metronome of sorts. Towel drying his hair. He had to admit the regular exercise, was helping him out. Healthy habits and seemed to be lessening the pressure of his back pain.

Zeus padded over to the couch. Stared up at Frank’s blank face. Whined at the couch and curled up on the floor. Frank did his best to keep him off the couch. Dog and owner knew that the moment he left the room there would be one very content goldendoodle sprawled out in the centre of it. Once there Frank wouldn’t shoo him off. The dog was far too cute and far to aware of that fact.

He rolled his eyes, scrubbing at the back of his head with his towel. He hadn’t bothered putting a shirt back on. Bare feet. He stretched out gently. Post run comfort. An urgent knock echoed in the apartment. Zeus immediately started yapping and bolted to the front door. Frank sighed, slipping down and throwing the towel over his shoulder.

‘Zeus shush. We both know you are sprinting back to that couch the moment I open the door.’ Zeus just yapped louder. An apparent denial of the accusation. Sassy little fucker.

‘Mel!?’ The last person he’d expected to see at his door in the middle of a downpour. Her thick blonde hair was stuck to her face and she was shaking. Lips practically blue. Zeus jumped up for a demanding pets. Then vanished back to his stolen spot as Mel didn’t drop to the floor as usual. ‘Shit. Come in. Are you okay?’

‘M-my car broke down two blocks over. Tried texting but you didn’t answer.’ Frank instinctively patted himself down. Then realised he’d his phone to charge in his bedroom. The phone he had been procrastinating on replacing.

‘Sorry my phone is still switching to silent randomly. I’ll get you a towel. Do you want to hop in the shower?’ The question popped out against his better instincts. Yes she needed to warm up but the idea of her showering with him- in the same house. It was overload.

Something in the universe was out to torture him. Was it for the lying, the stealing, compromising patient care or antics in a past life? Why else would this be happening to him? Mel King was standing in his house, clothes plastered to her frame. A frame he was trying to not stare at. Glasses fogging and staring at him with that look he just couldn’t figure out on her face. Face bone white in the cold.

‘If you don’t m-mind.’

‘Of course. Can’t have my favourite resident coming down with a cold.’ He shouldn’t say that. But it was true. She was his favourite resident. Everyone knew it. They just didn’t talk about it. But it was worth it to see the tiny pleased look that passed over her face. Her cheeks turning pink. Frank tried to keep his voice steady. ‘I’ll leave out something you can throw on and I’ll dry your stuff. I have my own water logged clothes to dry.’

Mel would normally insist on air drying her things. Refusing to alter his bills to her benefit. He was not in the mood for a silly disagreement over a few bucks.

He tugged out his very best towels. Fluffy and huge. She took them with trembling hands. Her her hand jolted at his hand brushed against his. He wasn’t the only one affected. He just wasn’t sure if it was good or bad. She could just be overwhelmed, overstimulated. She may be awkward about his continued shirtlessness.

Frank could have directed her to the main bathroom: but it was still half covered in mud. And dripping wet. She probably won’t have minded too much given the mess was confined to one corner of the room. But for some reason he tried not to think about he led her to his ensuite. Telling himself she’d have more privacy in his room. Not hoping she might get curious and poke around. Mel would never, but Frank wouldn’t mind if she did.

Thank fuck he cleaned his room that morning.

Mel hovered awkwardly in the door frame. Frank was pulling out his smallest spare sweats and a couple of t-shirt options. Just in case something aggravated her. None of these had any tags. Well worn, soft as could be. He’d never be able to look at his garments the same way ever again.

‘Mel you are turning blue. Go shower. Use whatever you want. Tea?’ She nodded mutely and quickly vanished into the bathroom. He caught a glimpse of her cheeks flaring red. They were probably a matched set.

He had a few cozy socks that might fit so he dug those out and laid them nearly on his bed next to everything else.

He could hear her moving around and the sounds of clothes hitting the floor. Frank’s brain instantly flooded with images of Mel. Slowly stripping down, wet hair hiding her face as she bent down to take off her-

Get a fucking grip.

She is your friend.

He left as quickly as he could before he something really stupid like offer to join her-

The door was open just a crack. Steam rolled out through the gap. It’d be far too easy. The lightest of pushes would open it fully.

Out. He need to get out. Make that tea and try and wrangle some sort of control over his impulses. Pretend that Mel King wasn’t naked in his shower. That he wasn’t past half hard at the mere idea of it.

The thrum of hot water had him completely freaking out. He had to get himself together. That evil voice in his head was telling him to go see if she wanted company. As he leant against the island trying to control his brain, watching the kettle boil.

Zeus was lying on his back on the couch. Waiting on doting pets.

Sorry pupper, Frank was having a mental crisis first. However Zeus found his adoring audience. Scarpering over to pink cheeked and slightly damp Mel. His clothes swamped her. The bottoms rolled up several times, sinking low on her hips. Too low for his sanity. Combined with the t-shirt which was slipping off one bare shoulder.

Her still dripping clothes were bundled in her arms.

‘My dryer is over here. Everything okay?’ Frank kept his gaze studiously professional and not examining the contents of her arms. She followed quietly behind. His stuff was already in there. Minus the mud spattered joggers. Zeus whined trying to jump up on Mel. She giggled at the floofy monster.

Heel.’ Given his voice lacked any real authority Zeus ignored him. Mel knelt down on the floor as Frank turned on the machine. Petting and scratching the golden pup, laughing as he licked at her cheek.

‘Fine. I know where I stand.’ It almost like the dog stuck it’s tongue out at him. He was totally being punished. However as Mel turned her face up to him. Face stunningly happy he really couldn’t give a shit. His shirt gaped wider than he’d expected. A flash of pale skin and a constellation of dark freckles, a glimpse of dark pink.

Shit shit shit.

‘Tea?’ His voice sounded strangled even to his own ears. He offered her a steeping mug of spearmint tea. Becca had texted him Mel’s favourite brand and strict instructions. Frank tried to keep his eyes off her bare shoulder. But that seemed to be a loosing battle. He hadn’t made note of the freckles on her shoulder. Five.

‘Thank you. And thank you. For the shower. Sorry to just land in on you unexpectedly.’ Mel took the tea with a tiny smile. They padded over to the couch. Zeus bouncing ahead of them to claim his spot. Frank narrowed his eyes. Mutt wasn’t even trying to hide his antics.

‘Anytime.’ He waved off her thanks lightly. ‘Besides if my phone wasn’t a brick I would have known.’ The aroma of the tea was soothing. Mel curled up into the opposite side of the couch. Zeus draped his head on her lap. Happily accepting scratches behind his ear. His tailed whacking into Franks thigh.

‘Still it’s an inconvenience.’

‘You are never an inconvenience.’ She ducked behind her mug. Hiding that little smile she had when he was being an idiot. ‘What happened?’

‘I dropped off Becca at the centre for the week. I’d checked the forecast and did not want to get caught in the rain.’ It was official. Mel was way smarter than he was. ‘Unfortunately the car.... I didn’t like the idea of waiting for the tow truck by myself.’

‘I’m glad you felt comfortable enough to come here.’

‘No offence but my other option was waiting in a dead car.... with a leaky roof.’ Mel shrugged with an overly innocent look on her face. Frank pulled his very best fake offended expression.

‘Man do I feel loved.’

What was wrong with him? Was his prefrontal cortex just in the off positions when it came to Mel King? Frank tried to cut himself some slack. She was a beautiful woman. Sitting on his couch. Wearing nothing but his clothes. There was a whole set up here. He was a recovering addict; the fact that he was still maintaining a thread of self control was a marvel.

And he was still shirtless.

Mel hadn’t said anything. Frank was afraid if he went to grab something it would make a thing out of it. But he also didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable with his lack of clothing. Paralysed by now knowing what to do. Then he realised his phone was still on silent.

‘I need to grab my phone. Do you need anything? I was going to pick up something but I also got caught in that-’ He pointed out of the nearest window where a storm was properly raging. Mel shook her head with a small laugh. She’d no doubt set reminders on his phone if he let her. Which Frank definitely would. The Pitt was probably in sheer chaos. For once he was glad he had the weekend off. ‘And had to wrestle a mud covered mutt.’ He mocked glared at the now half asleep bundle of fur. Mel laughed again softly, her hand stroking along his back.

He stood up and tried to leave the room as casually as possible. No doubt his self consciousness leading to the feeling that Mel was watching his every move.

‘Feel free to turn on the TV.’ A hoodie half zipped up felt like a good compromise. He had a bit of cover but it wasn’t making a big deal out of it. He hoped. Abby had sent a photo of the kids dressed up like Wicked characters. He replied with a proud mud covered Zeus.

He flicked open doordash. Frank supposed he should feel a little bad about takeaway during a storm but he was starving and his attempts at cooking this week were depressing at best. Hazardous at worst. The theme song to Buffy filled the room.

‘Cool haven’t watched this in years.’ Frank handed over his phone wordlessly. Silently giving her the choice of places. Mel smiled brightly. He pretended that it wasn’t making this day worth it. He watched as her steady fingers danced over the screen of his phone. Then realising that was probably the creepiest thing he could be doing, he focused back on the TV. Giles lecturing the teenagers over something.

‘Becca hates this.’

‘Really? Thought she’d love it.’

‘She used to. But that episode where Joyce dies....?’ Mel froze staring blankly into nothing. One hand falling to her lap and clenching tightly. She was vanishing into something in her mind. Lost in past. A knot of concern tangled in his chest. Zeus whimpered and licked at her hand. Sensing the shift in Mel from cozy and safe, to lost in her past.

Good boy.

‘... I ahhh.... we found our Mom like that.’ Fuck. That was a horrifying image. He could see it. A much younger Mel and Becca walking in and seeing their Mom gone on the couch. Becca unsure what to do. Anxiety and pain driving her into a tailspin. Mel, a statue next to her. Processing the scene playing out and then taking control as best as anyone could.

Not falling apart until she was alone and everyone else safely hidden away.

‘That’s awful.’

‘Thanks.’ As used as he was to Mel’s ability to have him solidly on the back foot. This was new.

‘What?’

‘Most people say sorry. As though they had any part of it. She had an embolism. Better than the slow death that we were staring at. I guess.’ She shrugged, eyes still lost and dim. Mel had told him about her mom’s cancer diagnosis. Her medical team really inspiring her to go to medical school. He’d assumed that she’d passed in a hospital. Not alone and waiting for her girls to find her.

‘No one knows really what to do. I do remember that episode. Creepy how real it felt.’

‘No music.’

‘Oh yeah. It was unsettling.’

‘Too realistic. I can’t watch that one but the rest of it... It used to be our show..’ Mel pushed her glasses up her nose and tuck a damp lock of hair behind her ear. Zeus hopped up and pottered over to his overly large bed in the corner.

‘My Mom thinks that Buffy is sacrilegious. I prefer your Mom.’ Mel laughed slightly, brushing away at her cheeks. He reached out and left his hand close to her. Not quite touching her leg. But near enough so she knew he was just there.

‘Middle Eastern okay?’

‘As long as you order-’

‘Extra Baba Ganoush already in the basket.’ She passed the phone back and he quickly added in his usual order.

Because Zeus was now sleeping in his own bed. Dreaming of mud puddles and chaos. Mel clung onto one of the pillows to settle herself. The rain continued to hammer the windows. Frank watched briefly the rain streaks and droplets merging. Perfect chorus to fall asleep to.

Mel had even put on the original Buffy movie. Absolutely horrendous but so much fun to roll his eyes at. The pair of them bantering over the campy movie. Food arrived and the delivery guys irritation was erased by Mel’s effusive thanks. As well as the picture of her still in his clothes.

Frank was not a big guy but she was still swamped. He idly remembered that the dryer was probably done. But neither of them seemed inclined to fetch her clothes.

A cold wet something pressed into his cheek. Frank tried waving it off wanting to go back to sleep. Warm breath rushed over his face. The patter of rain. A dog’s panting hovered in his ear.

‘Zeus. Go back to bed.’ Frank frowned. Zeus was only allowed into his room post call. The dark brown eyes were right in front of him. The angles were off. And the TV was in his room?

Oh he was on the couch.

Not great for his back. But it wasn’t so bad. When did he get a weighted blanket? A warm presence was lying across his chest. Cosy and comfortable. Her skin soft and satiny-

Her skin?

Mel was directly on top of him. Sound asleep. His hand spread across her back. Apparently his sleep self had shoved up his t-shirt. A blessing and a curse. Her legs firmly bracketing one of his. Frank swallowed heavily. Feeling the pressure of her hand on his chest.

Fuck.

Apparently Mel had felt the shift in her pillow. She murmured something intelligible and started wriggling against him.

Fuck.

Her glasses looked like they were digging into her face painfully. Frank did his best to take them off without waking her up. Not until he managed to move them into a less suggestive position-

On the couch.

Of course he brain instantly autofilled in a bunch of suggestive positions. Mel straddling him. Yanking off his hoodie. Her eyes shinning darkly down at him. Or him all but throwing her to the ground...

Get that out of your mind NOW.

Unfortunately his body was not exactly responding in the same fashion. He could feel himself hardening against her. There was no way he was getting back to sleep now. Mel’s nails dug into his chest.

Fuck.

He managed to get her glasses onto the coffee table without dropping them. But they clattered loudly as his fine motor skills lessened. Who could blame him when Mel was on top of him. His clothes not much of a barrier to feeling her against him. Nails biting into his skin.

‘Hmm...’ She started moving again. Her hips rocking up against him. Nothing Frank could imagine or scream at himself could stop his physical reaction to her. Not when she was moving like that and letting out the most sinful sighs. Warmth swiftly raged into a fire. Burning upwards from the damping spot on his thigh.

‘Frank.’

He stared down at her. His hand still panning the expanse of her back. God she was so tiny against him. But that was definitely his name she moaned. His name. The old man name that sounded so fucking good when Mel King was moaning it. In her sleep.

He watched, breath caught in his throat as her head twisted up towards him. Her dark eyes fluttering opening slowly. There was a severe risk of hypoxia given how long he was holding his breath for. It took a far too quick a moment for Mel to put together the pieces of the situation they were currently in.

Frank couldn’t have stopped his eyes flicking down to her lips as they formed a silent ‘oh’. Even if he wanted to. Which he certainly didn’t. They were both adults. Physical reactions could be chalked up to hormones and stimuli. Reactions. But Frank knew his responses were fuelled by something deeper. But he’d let her take the lead.

They were friends. Colleagues. He liked to think of himself as her mentor. Frank had so much baggage. Recovery, the kids, Abby to name a few. Mel had her own struggles and responsibilities. She was young, had to many other less problematic options. 

Mel knew him. Understood him better than most people.

It had to be her choice.

She bit down on her lip. Thinking. Mel looked determined as she placed her hands on the couch, on either side of his head. Offering him a direct view down his tee as she raised herself up. Hovering directly over his face. Maybe daring him to look. Without her glasses; her eyes were even larger and more dazzling. Mel waited inspecting his face for something. For once he didn’t trying to mask how important she was. Didn’t trying to control his reactions to her.

Not that he was doing a great job given she was still pressed up against his hips. It was taking every ounce of restraint to not thrust up into her.

Her now dry hair, wavy and full seemed to block out everything around them.

Mel shifted, throwing the leg that had been between his legs to the other side of his hips. Fully surrounding him. An evil smirk passed across her lips, bottom lip slightly red and swollen from her biting down on it.

Oh fuck it that should be his job.

He let the hand that was still on her back tighten just enough to tug her a little. Enough to tell her his intentions but giving her enough room to duck out if she needed to.

She didn’t.

Some assumed (Shen. Frank had overheard him wonder to one of the radiographers one night shift) that Mel would be all gentleness and grace when in bed. Maybe even passive.

Frank had rolled his eyes at the time.

Nah. Mel threw herself into her passions. You could hear it in her voice when she spoke about her interests. The way she lit up when someone actually listened to her. When comfortable she was brave.

Tonight was no different.

Maybe classifying the kiss as brave sounded weird but that’s what it was.

And incredibly fucking hot. Teeth, tongue and lips. He was quick to follow through on biting down on her lip to see what reaction he’d get.

The most thrilling little gasp.

Noted.

She dragged a hand through his hair. He was well aware that his floppy hairstyle worked for many people. He could be vain too. But it felt very different when Mel fucking King was pulling his hair. Instinctively the hand was not still on her back grabbed her thigh. He couldn’t stop the smirk at her muffled utterance of fuck.

It was his turn to swear as she pulled back. Pupils blown wide. Hair tumbling over her shoulder in waves that he desperately wanted to pull, hard. Her smirk at him damned nearly finished him.

‘Mel-’

Her fist clenched around his half open hoodie and with far more strength than he’d expected she’d pulled him so he was sitting up. So now she was sitting on him, chests pressed together.

Whatever he was going to say promptly evaporated. Her eyebrow arched. The mischievous look in her eyes draining all blood to his dick.

‘Yes?’ She sounded so innocent so sweet. Said at the exactly moment she thrust down against him. Instinctively he bit down on her shoulder. Probably far too hard but the uncontrolled thrust and deep moan Mel let out said otherwise. She’d be bruised for sure. A baser part of his brain was delighted with the idea. His.

She yanked down the zipper of his hoodie way too hard. Possibly bending them. Spoke to the level of need. He really didn’t care. The loss of contact with her skin had him feeling cold. As coordinated in this moment as they were at work.

If Frank had had sense or reason left in his brain he might question how hot he found that fact. Luckily not so much in this moment.

The ripples of heat that flared through him as Mel started a far from professional exploration of his chest. Nails scratching down, pausing just shy of the top of his sweats. As though marking him as hers. He’d happily accept the branding.

As much as he was enjoying Mel being in charge. It was unfair that he was the least dressed party at this event. He threw the hoodie into a random corner of the room. Mel giggling into his shoulder as something crashed to the ground. He snuck both his hands under the well worn fabric of his t-shirt and paused. Waiting for her.

She pulled back and arched her back just a bit.

Mel King was going to be the death of him. Helping him get the shirt off over her head. No bra. Out of its braid her hair fluttered down to mid chest. Thick blonde waves that he brushed back behind her shoulders. She shivered at the touch. The flush of pink that was rapidly spreading down to her chest. He traces the blush with his finger tips. She whimpered, actually whimpered as he cupped her breast.

‘Fuck. You are beautiful.’ His voice had dropped. Taking a moment to just see her. Fight back the urge to trace the constellations of freckles with his teeth. Later.

Apparently his staring was only allowed for so long. With a noise that was either impatience or a whimper Mel all but slammed her lips back down at him. In a move he’d probably regret over the next few days he grabbed onto her ass. Her scrubs did her absolutely no fucking justice.

(Probably just as well because with this new information Frank would likely be unable to focus on anything other than that.)

(He was going to struggle for evermore. Totally worth it.)

Quickly and much more smoothing than he’d ever managed to be previously he got to his feet. Even though Mel murmured something about his back... She still wrapped her legs around him instinctively.

Fucking hell.

He was so close it was embarrassing.

‘Fuck my back.’ He muttered as he blindly directed them to his bedroom.

‘I’d rather you fuck me.’

This woman was going to be the death of him. It was unfair she was this sweet, competent (yes he had a thing for that sue him), sexy and hilarious?

Frank Langdon.

Cause of Death: Melissa King.

He wasn’t unopposed to such an epitaph. Figured it would be fitting as she ground down against him.

So completely unfair. Time to even the playing field a little bit. Frank kept his eyes locked on Mel’s increasingly dark ones. Lips tracing his hands previous path down her chest. He was right. Her skin was beyond soft. Her strong slender hands threaded into his hair. Nails scratching his scalp. Her lips ticked up as she felt his responding shudder. His lips closed around her right nipple. She pulled hard.

There was that delicious whimper again as he nipped at her with his teeth.

He felt a little hollow as one of her hands left his hair. But then her hand scratched down his torso. Flicking over his nipple. She dragged his head back up for another kiss. Then that strong delicate hand snaked under his sweats and wrapped around his dick.

‘Fuck.’ He hissed loudly.

‘Frank, please.’ Her hand twisted and rolled in a move that had to be fucking illegal. A sobering thought hit him.

‘Mel, shit, Mel I don’t have any condoms.’ Her head tilted watching his face contort. She didn’t stop moving her hand. She was going to be the end of him.

‘I have an IUD. If you’re okay with that. You get screened regularly right? I do.’

Sweet holy mother of fuck.

It took every inch of self control Frank had (one could argue he had little of that) to not cum right there and then.

‘Mel. Are you sure?’ Now it was his turn to whimper as she removed her hand.

‘Don’t I look sure?’ She did. She really really did. ‘I trust you.’ Frank rolled them both over onto the bed. He kissed her again, slower and deeper. Almost lazy. Letting the heat of the moment rolling over them again. Building a lasting slow heat. He was going to make her fall apart in ways she hadn’t with anyone else.

Call it male ego. Or his competitive streak. Didn’t matter.

She was rolling and rocking her hips against him, moaning and swearing as he moved his way down her body. He paused as he reached the waistband of his sweats. Staring up at her. Her chest was heaving but she looked confused.

‘Mel?’

‘You can just fuck me, why do you want to...’ Frank pulled back slightly.

‘Mel. Are you serious? As anyone ever gotten you off like this?’ Who in the hell had turned down the opportunity to worship Mel King? Idiots the lot of them.

‘No man anyway.’ She smirked as his eyes rounded in surprise. That was quite the way to tell him.

‘Well I think I need to even the score. As for wanting to.... Mel I have been dying to do this for longer than I should admit to.’ Her eyes widened at his confession. Darkening as watched him toy with the knot on his sweats. Mel had been haunting his dreams almost from the get go. 

He was sure there was some weird psych take on how much like enjoyed taking his own pants off Mel. Like she was marked or something.

She hadn’t been wearing underwear almost the entire time she had been in his apartment.

Frank took a second to process the thought and control his dick. He was not going to loose it before he got her off.

Mel half muttered something about not shaving. Seriously she was naked and glistening before him. He could not have given less of shit. In fact he took his time working his way up her legs.

She was absolutely drenched by the time he gently started to trace his fingers along her vulva. He waited again, giving her a moment to centre herself.

‘Oh god.’ Her voice sounded wrecked in the best possible way. ‘P-please.’ Who was he to say no to that plea. She was so responsive to his touch. Sweet, rich and tangy. If this was the last thing he’d ever tasted he’d die a happy man. Her hands digging and damn near pulling his hair out.

Jesus fucking Christ. He thrust against the bed instinctively. He was really going to have to focus to last the night.

One of his weaknesses. But then again the moan she let out as he flattened his tongue against her clit... Mel King might just be his weakness as well as his strength. Slowly and so carefully, giving her enough time to adjust he worked a finger into her.

She damn near screamed his name. He raised his eyebrows at her cheekily. One of her hands reaching down for him. He grabbed on to her continuing to fuck her with his other hand and his tongue. Frank made a vow to himself to try and earn this privilege every single fucking chance he got.

Her back arched beautifully of the bed as she moaned his name, trembling and shuddering. Mel King orgasming against his face was one of the most amazing things in the world.

There was also that very male satisfaction at being better than any other man she’d been with.

He was going to have to ask about the girlfriends. If she wanted to share.

He kissed and nipped his way back up her body again. Giving her enough time to settle back down to earth.

‘Hmm.’ He planted a wet kiss against her cheek and she laughed. Tugging him over for another one of those slow deep kisses that had her curling around him.

‘Frank.’ God his old man name sounded so fucking good in Mel’s deep breathing orgasmic glow.

‘Yeah?’

‘Take off your pants. Now.’

‘Yes Dr. King.’ Her flush deepened, her knees falling open. Another fact to note. She scooted a little closer watching him closely.

Oh she wasn’t wearing her glasses so she had to shift closer. Watching him through her lashes.

Fuck that was hot.

He stood up and quickly tossed his sweats into the corner. Mel scooted further, placing both her feet on the ground. Her eyes scanning every inch of his exposed body. One hand pressed against his tattoo and the other reached down.

‘Mel-’

‘You can pull my head back but don’t pull me forward.’ She ordered him quietly throwing her wild hair back behind her shoulders. A clear invitation.

Fuck.

It should be a crime for her to so innocently sweet as she wrapped her hand around his dick. Absolutely debased. Then she leaned forward and pressed her tongue against him.

‘Mel-’ His hand instantly diving into her hair. Dancing over her scalp but not directing her. Not that she needed any. She worked his up slowly, swirling her tongue in the most devious ways. Taking him much deeper than he’d ever have suspected. The moan against him, around him... Nearly brought him to his knee.

During the last heatwave Abbot had ordered an ice cream truck to the Pitt. He and Mel had sat on one of the nearby benches. He’d had a magnum. If Abbot was paying he’d quipped to Mel. Then stopped dead as he watched her licking at her classic ice cream. Her pink tongue catching a melted drop from her delicate wrist. 

It's exactly how she looked right now.

He was never going to be able to look at an ice cream the same way again. Or had to make sure there was somewhere private to drag her to.

‘Shit.’ He could feel the orgasm ramping up. He tapped her scalp twice giving her a signal before he pulled on her hair. The release of her mouth on him sounded absolutely obscene in the quiet of the room. He sank to his weakened knees and pulled her hair back.

So they both enjoyed hair pulling. Good. Her jaw which was already slackened by working around him, dripping with his precum and saliva fell open further.

‘The things you do to me.’ He groaned against her shapely neck. Biting down behind her ear. Leaving a bruise that she’d be able to hide but he had to.

She owned him body and soul. Only fair she feel some of that same thing.

‘Frank.’ She wailed against him.

Yeah any control had snapped. He climbed over hear as she pushed herself back on the bed. Trembling. Needing him.

‘Please.’

‘Anything you want Sweetheart.’ Her breath shook against his ear.

‘I want you.’

Fuck.

He was a lucky bastard. He kissed her again. Mel wrapped one arm around his shoulder. The other hand once again resting against his tattoo. Guess she liked it. Then she hooked her legs over his hips. Heels digging into his ass. Pleasure turned white hot as she pressed her even more drenched cunt up against him.

He knew an invite when he saw it. Felt it.

But he still stopped. Pulling back to look her full in the face. Letting her know she could say no anytime. He needed her like oxygen but he’d only follow her lead on this. Her brown eyes softened sweetly and she nodded.

‘Please.’

He pressed his forehead against her. Pressing of of his forearms on the bed next to her. The other hand skimming over her. Tweaking a nipple cheekily before guiding himself into her.

Slowly.

Slowly.

Mel was already panting so wantonly as he carefully thrust up into her. Inch by inch. She was so fucking tight. Fluttering and clenching around him perfectly.

He was not going to last long.

Shit.

‘Mel, god.’ He was barely aware of his babbling. He never really could shut up. ‘You feel so fucking good.’

‘Frank!’ He was doing everything in his power to take care of her. Not rush this. But Mel in her unique way simply wasn’t having it. Her lips bruised and swollen quirked upwards and then she moved. Her legs tightening and pulling him.

Suddenly in a moment he was fully seated inside her.

‘Oh.’

‘Mel. Jesus.’

‘I asked you to fuck me.’ How was she coherent enough for a full fucking sentence. She was so cheeky and smug beneath him. ‘Hard.’

His competitive streak burned hotly.

A challenge.

Fine. Mel King wanted a challenge. Well he was going to give her exactly what she asked for. Pulling back enough to get her right leg even higher he pulled back. Almost slipping out of her.

Then he slammed back into her. Her delighted shriek was better than anything he’d ever heard in the bedroom before.

It made sense. Mel sometimes needed out of her own head. For her mind to be shut out by the reactions of her nervous system. This was going to be hard, messy and far too fast. He snapped his hips back and forth repeatedly setting a brutal pace. Muttering absolutely obscenities in her ear. About how perfect she was around him. So tight. Reacting so perfectly.

Such a good girl taking him so hard.

Her second orgasm had her screaming his name. Her back barely in contact with the bed under here. As she rode it out, his own crashed down over him. Blinding white hot pleasure damn nearly causing him to pass out on top of her.

Slowly he drifted back to full awareness. His face pressed in against her boobs. God he was in heaven. He looked up to see her dozing lightly. Her cheeks still flush pink. It felt cold as he slipped his softening dick out of her. She murmured unhappily at the sensation. He unsteadily got to his feet, pausing to pressed a kiss to her lips. She smiled against him but didn’t open his eyes.

Luckily he had a number of small cotton soft towels in his bathroom. Damping one with warm water he sat down on the bed next to her.

‘Sweetheart?’ Mel didn’t open her eyes but did open her legs. Fuck this woman was going to kill him.

‘You okay?’ He reached up to brush some of her sweat dampened hair back off her face. Her long lashed flickered.

‘Nice dream. Don’t wanna wake up.’ He smirked. Then slowly and carefully gently started to clean her up. Her eyes opened and scanned the room blearily. Squinting at him. Taking in the mutual nakedness.

‘Not a dream.’ Her eyes blinked slowly at him. Watching as he took care of her. Wrapping the soiled towel in one of his scrub tops and throwing it into the laundry basket.

‘Well... I guess I’m your dream guy eh?’ He pressed soft kisses against her neck as she giggled. Such a sweet sound.

‘Pretty grateful for that piece of crap car of yours.’ Much to his disappointment she pulled back on his t-shirt but it was getting a little cold. Rain still belted down outside.

‘It’s not a piece of crap. It’s a classic.’ Mel sounded as haughty as he’d ever heard her. Undercut somehow by her laugh.

‘It was raining inside Mel.’

‘Water feature.’ Frank rolled his eyes at her innocent shrug. He looked around for his sweatpants. Mel scooped them up from the other side of the bed. Watching as he pulled them on. Looking as disappointed as he felt when she pulled on his t-shirt.

‘Do you mind if I take a shower- alone?’ He pouted at the idea but quickly fetched another towel for her. The sheets were soaked through. So best to change them while Mel was shower. She squinted at him, a light blush forming on her skin again. He followed her gaze.

Ahh more than a few scratch marks. Clear even in the late evening light.

‘Sorry about that.’ Mel didn’t really sound all that sorry.

‘No I like it.’ Her blush grew but she stepped forward to trace some of the marks. His shuddered under her touch.

‘Really?’

‘Couldn’t you tell?’ Her smile grew as he wrapped his arms around her. She started drawing patterns with her finger. They were both two tired for another round but god she had him hook line and sinker.

‘I liked it too.’ She was so small against him, head resting his chest. Murmuring something against his chest.

‘What?’ Mel’s blush somehow deepened, burrowing into his skin. ‘Mellllll.’ Unable to resist the urge to lower his hand to her ass. ‘You can tell me.’

‘I was thinking...’ He tilted her head to look him fully in the face. Her face glowing brightly. ‘Well... that people would...’ Frank at the fight the urge to laugh. She looked so cute when embarrassed.

‘If you happened to loose your shirt again they’d know.’

Oh.

Well that was the hottest thing she’d ever said.

‘Staking your claim eh?’ She lifted herself on her tiptoes, tossing her hair back over her shoulder. He could see the purple red bruise blooming behind her ear. She wasn’t the alone possessive one.

‘If you could keep your shirt on than I wouldn’t have to.’ She muttered against his lips. Frank moved her up against the wall, bunching his t-shirt up her back. Marvelling at how much of her skin he could cover with a single hand. Mel moaned as he yanked his t-shirt off again. He shoved a leg in between hers, immediately she groaned and ground down against his leg.

‘Jealous?’ He kept his voice low and deep. He’d noticed a long time ago that Mel reacted to his deeper register. Perhaps he’d used it at work every so often. When a patient got a little too flirty with her. A way of proving that only he’d get that reaction.

Yeah he was a jealous possessive fucker too.

‘Y-Yes.’ Mel shook beautifully as he bit down behind her ear again. 'I just want...' She whined as he moved his hand to cup her. He hummed against her waiting for her to try to finish her thought. 'People to- ahhh.' Once again she was soaking through his sweats. Amazing that this was happening to him now. 

'Know what? come on tell me.' Mel rocked hard against his hand, getting pressure exactly where she needed it. He smirked as she whined against him again. Mel threw her head back against the wall.

'That- that- you're- you're.' Frank hoisted her up further against the wall. Mel wrapped her legs around him again. 'MINE.' She screeched once again, coming so hard that she almost passed out.

'Property of Mel King. Sounds like a dream.'

[lokisprettygirl]

Rain to his Fire (Modern! Daemon Targaryen x Female Reader) (Non Canon 80s Au) (18+)

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1

Summary: In 1985, you were assigned as a custodian in the King's Landing Psychiatric inpatient and wellness center after your mother's passing. Your job was mundane and boring, but that was until a new patient arrived, a young man with a wild and eccentric personality, harbouring a secret that will change your life forever.

Warning: 18+, discussion of mental health (it's a fic based in a mental health facility), the fic would contain several mentions of several disorders like mpd, did etc, if something triggers you don't read, smoking.

“Room 393 needs cleaning up, new guy is coming” you heard your supervisor Mona so you sighed and quickly nodded. Working as a custodian in a mental health facility wasn't ever really a dream job for you but you didn't have any option at the moment. Your mother had worked all her life for the center and when she passed, as per her request beforehand, the job was immediately offered to you, and you had debts to pay so you couldn't really deny that offer.

At thirty you didn't really see your life heading towards anything better anyways and you didn't really despise working here. Helping people feel good at times. Your job wasn't limited to cleaning services, you would often get assigned to patients who needed a caregiver for physical and emotional needs.

King's landing psychiatric inpatient and wellness center was a six floor building at the outskirts of London, it was established in 1955 and your mother had started her job the same year, it's been thirty years now and two years since she had passed, she was living nearby because she was married and had a child, you on other hand didn't want to travel back n forth so you chose to live here itself as a permanent live in staff of the wellness center.

You were accustomed to seeing patients coming in for various disorders, most were delusional at worst or suffered from some sort of dysphoria. However, the patients at the King's Landing Wellness Center were not usually considered dangerous and you had never felt threatened by any one of them except a few women who lashed out at you and pushed you around last year. But with time, you had learned to provide them with the care and attention they needed instead of judging them for the outburst.

“Are you listening y/n?” You snapped back to reality as Mona called your name and gathered your cleaning cart to go fix room 393, there was this girl that had just gotten released from the facility, Tanya, she was a shy, quiet girl in her mid twenties with a debilitating case of multiple personality disorder.

You mostly kept to yourself at the facility as you didn't want to get involved or too overly attached with the patients.

The moment you took the mattress off to deep clean the bed, you discovered a piece of paper underneath. Curiosity got the better of you, and you decided to open it. Once you saw the writing on the paper, a feeling of unease coursed through your body, the words seemed almost ominous

“They are going to hurt me. I know, I'll never get out of here, if you find this please make sure to check up on me please”

You sighed before you folded the paper and placed it inside your apron quickly before it would get lost. What did she mean you wondered? The centre was under the supervision of three doctors. Doctor Vis was a man in his early forties and he was the most feared of all three because of his unorthodox methods of treatment but the other two doctors, Lisa and Darren seemed more approachable.

As you made your way out of room 393, you saw Doctor Vis standing in the hallway, having a conversation with another man. The other man stood with his back against the wall while Doctor Vis stood uncomfortably close to him, he was handcuffed so you assumed that he was being aggressive in his therapy session, as you walked past them you looked at the man briefly and normally you'd have looked away but this time you couldn't for some reason, he had a shiny silver hair that you had never really seen on a man before and it caught your eye immediately. The uniform he had on wasn't a surprise as it was a dress code for the patients, a white shirt and same coloured trousers.

His eyes met yours briefly and he smirked so you looked away immediately ,

“You didn't tell me you hired such beautiful chicks around here to be your servant-” Daemon had barely finished his sentence before Vis grabbed his collar to warn him. Vis looked as you walked past them and turned to make left into the hallway, disappearing out of their sight.

“Don't make this more difficult than it already is you moron”

Dr. Vis escorted Daemon into the room where he was immediately uncuffed. With the doctor now gone, Daemon let out an angry roar before throwing the chair into the room's window, shattering it into pieces.

“New guy is here” you mumbled as you reached the canteen. The rest of the staff members, including those from the pantry and cleaning services, were already gathered at the table. Shyla, who was the same age as you approached you. But in contrast to you, Shyla appeared to have a backup plan in mind after her tenure here.

“Oh god have you guys seen him, he's really hotttt in a really weird way”

You gulped as she said that, she always lived on the edge, it was unprofessional and unethical to talk about patients this way. Besides, he wasn't hot at all.

“Cut out with the heart eyes girl he must be a cuckoo to be here”

Another woman, Dina , intervened as she whispered very quietly, you didn't appreciate her language but then she wasn't wrong, sane people didn't come here.

“Hey y/n, new patient broke the window in 393, clean it up”

Mona suddenly entered the canteen so you sighed but then you were left feeling confused.

“How did he break it? Those windows are supposed to be unbreakable” you asked her curiously as the windows in the patient's room were specifically designed to withstand extreme conditions and were built to be unbreakable for security reasons.

“Don't question what's and how's, do your job girl” she glared at you so you picked up your cleaning cart again.

As you entered room 393, you spotted the new patient on the bed, seemingly engrossed in a book. Your brow furrowed as you took in the sight of the debris of shattered glass scattered around the room. Quickly, you grabbed a broom and began the cleaning process, starting from the corners to ensure that you picked up every last shard. As you swept, you couldn't help but feel puzzled as to how the window was broken in the first place,

“You shouldn't be doing such things, they are not afraid of sending violent patients to the lone ward” you mumbled so he looked up from his book and then glanced at you from top to bottom before he let out a snicker.

“Awnnn do you get paid to offer advice around here or cleaning is your only area of expertise?”

You glared at him as he said that but you remained calm, you couldn't raise your voice with patients even though you had been wanting to do it for a long while now.

“Sir im just-” you cringed internally as you addressed him as sir, it wasn't a norm but then you didn't really know his name yet. He had changed out of his uniform so you couldn't even read the name tag.

“Do your fucking job girl and get out”

You cut back on your words as he spoke rudely to you, perhaps he was admitted for extreme anger issues, whatever it was you just wanted to get out and not see him at least for a day.

You missed Tanya, she was a sweet girl, and you hadn't forgotten the note you had found under her bed this morning but then she wasn't exactly stable in her mind, people often scribbled down their most intrusive thoughts in their free time, and there was abundance of that around here. Besides you had bid her goodbye, she had hugged you warmly and she seemed happier for once.

During the lunch service you saw his smug face again as he sat down in the corner of the cafeteria, his eyes met with yours and he gave you a small smile but you didn't return it. Though you didn't want to take his words personally, he was dealing with something and that's why he was here.

“Mrs Rodriguez, are you finished with your food?” You asked the elderly lady so she snapped out of her thoughts and nodded but as you raised your hand forward to pick up her plate she grabbed your hand,

“Simon thinks i should eat less” she mumbled almost fearfully and your heart clenched for her, Simon was merely a figment of her imagination.

“Well he's wrong because you are eating as much as you should” she let go of your hand and smiled as you said that to her. When you reached around his table you noticed that he hadn't even touched his food,

“Are you going to eat sir? Your half an hour is almost over” you asked him so he chuckled. New patients in the center had strict rules and regulations to follow during the beginning of their treatment.

“Who should I be asking around here for a smoke?” He asked you and your brows furrowed.

“That's not allowed, i will help you with a nicotine patch if you're feeling restless -” he rolled his eyes as you said that.

“I don't need that shit” he grumbled under his breath so you looked at the time. Looking at him you couldn't really tell what actually was wrong with him, well besides the anger issues obviously, he seemed almost normal, almost self aware which really wasn't usual around this place.

“Please finish your food, dinner service is around 8 and a man of your size won't get any nutrition from the snacks we offer during tea time” you spoke a bit sternly and the corner of his mouth curved into a small smile.

“What's your name y/n?” He asked you so you looked at him baffled, he clearly read your name on the badge and he said it as well.

“I don't know your name either” you mumbled politely so he gave you a smile

“Daemon”

“Have an easy day Mr. Daemon, first few days are always difficult” you ultimately grabbed his plate as you left because he didn't seem to be in any mood to eat at the time.

Around evening as you finished your shift you made your way to your room at the fourth floor to take a shower and relax a bit. You took out the note you had found under Tanya's bed and placed it inside your cupboard safely, a part of you continued to feel uneasy about this thing, another was thinking about Daemon.

Why was he there? What had he done? You were not allowed to enquire about these things unless or until you were told the information by the authorities.

Daemon couldn't really sleep at night, how could he? He was locked up in here and was being treated as if he was crazy but he knew what he was and he wasn't delusional about it either. Even as sleep came for him he had a horrible nightmare that had him tossing and turning in his bed again so he woke up and stepped out of his room quietly as the room was starting to suffocate him. That's when he found the window at the end of the corridor and that was all he needed.

Around 2 at night, you were enjoying a peaceful moment to yourself on the terrace of the building, taking a break with a cigarette. As you were absorbed in your own thoughts, you heard a loud thud sound from behind you. Startled, you jumped and quickly turned around, only to find the new patient, Daemon, standing there. You couldn't believe how he had gotten there, he didn't have the key to the door and you clearly remembered locking it when you had gotten in. The terrace was strictly off-limits to patients for obvious reasons.

“What..are you doing here, you can't be here mister” you almost sounded frantic and kind of scared to be honest. And why didn't he have a shirt on? It was freaking cold out here. And why was he so freaking ripped?

“Hooking me up with a bloody nicotine patch when you got this sweet thing right here?” he asked you as he approached you so you took a few steps behind you until you had hit the ledge. You quickly threw the cigarette butt on the ground and crushed it under your flip flops before he could attempt to steal it from you.

“Now that's a waste of a good cigarette” he almost seemed offended with his brows furrowed and scowl on his face.

“Look, don't come near me alright?” You warned him so he crossed his arms and stepped closer to you despite your warning.

“I'm not going to harm you, I can, don't get me wrong.. but I won't”

Was that supposed to make you feel better?

“Please come with me, let me take you to your room .. please”

As he heard your gentle voice his teeth gritted together. “Please just listen to me ..it's only best for you” You brought your arm forward to grab his forearm but you flinched away as soon as you had touched his skin.

“Are you sick? You're burning like a furnace” You asked him worriedly so he scratched his scalp before he looked around and took a deep breath “And how did you get here?”

“I'm not sick, do I look sick to you?” He asked you so you shook your head but that was pointless, if he was a regular smoker, perhaps he was feeling the withdrawal.

“Just one puff, I'll be indebted to you forever darling, please, what do you want me to do beg? I can beg on my knees .You want that?..”

“Ohhh shut up for god's sake -” You cut him off mid sentence as he started to ramble but the stupid smirk on his face was still there. “I'll lose my job Daemon -”

“Nobody will know”

“I can't do it.. please understand please..”

He sighed and the pleading look on your face made him willing to listen to you ultimately.

How did he even come up here? You had come via the main entrance and it was locked from inside. As you escorted him back to his room, you mumbled a quick good night but he suddenly grabbed you by the shoulders and pushed you against the door, your heart was right into your mouth at the moment for several different reasons, you had been pushed over by several women at the facility but never a man, especially not a man like him who seemed so strong and so unstable. If worse comes to worse you knew you wouldn't be able to defend yourself.

“Daemon let go of me” you mumbled sternly but his hands were on your upper arms, holding you tightly still. He wasn't hurting you, not yet at least.

“Shhhhh shhh shhhh” as he whispered in your ear you were going to scream but nothing came out of your throat, not even a squeak, you feared that he was going to touch you inappropriately, if this wasn't inappropriate as it was, but then he placed his nose on the crook of your neck and took a sniff. Like a wild animal he sniffed you, literally.

One sniff, two sniff, and then one two three at once, you couldn't help but wonder why you weren't feeling as uncomfortable as you should have in a similar situation.

“What are you doing?” You asked him gently to not aggregate him so he looked you right in the eyes before he cupped your cheeks and stared at your lips, his nose rubbed slightly against yours before he closed his eyes, grunted a little and finally stepped away from you. His chest was heaving from breathlessness, same as yours as you both stared at each other for a moment. What the hell was that?

“Get out lady”

He mumbled so you immediately got the fuck out of there, you were looking behind every step of the way to see if he was following you but he wasn't. At the end of the corridor you stopped as suddenly, your feet came in contact with a piece of fabric on the floor, and when you bent down to investigate, you realized it was Daemon's shirt but it was completely shredded in several pieces - the same shirt he had worn this evening.

The realization left you feeling even more puzzled and disoriented. How had he managed to enter the terrace when it was locked from the outside. It seemed impossible. It was impossible. Or perhaps there was another way? Or maybe you were going crazy yourself? Now that was possible.

As your head hit your pillow you ran your fingers over your neck, right where he was sniffing, he seemed so...so primal in that moment, so animalistic, if that was the right choice of word. Did you atleast smell good? God you hoped so. Or not. He was a patient, you had to keep that in mind, he had issues.

The next morning while Daemon was away for his therapy session with the doctors you decided to clean up his room, he had left you feeling a bit unnerved last night with his strange behavior but you weren't really scared of him and then you wondered why you weren't scared of him after what he had done.

The iron bars on his window were the first thing you had noticed as you had entered the room. As you heard loud footsteps approaching the room you quickly collected your stuff to prepare to leave.

As Dr. Vis entered with Daemon he looked at you and spoke politely “Will you please step out ?” Vis asked you so you nodded immediately.

“Yes doctor, I'm almost done” you grabbed your cart and walked past them, your eyes met with Daemon and he seemed angry, but also really sad? His eyes were read and teary, such a contrast from his snarky demeanor yesterday.

As the door slammed shut, you found yourself in a state of morbid curiosity. So instead of minding your own business as you should have, you pressed your ear against the door instead, hoping to catch a glimpse of what was going on inside. Why did he look so sad?

“You had promised you wouldn't start with the absurdity right off the bat” Dr. Vis yelled at Daemon and that bothered you. Why was he yelling at a patient like this on his second day?

“Absurdity? You think me speaking of my true self is absurd?” Daemon asked the doctor and you didn't understand what was happening, what was he suffering from?

Dazed and confused as you reached the staff area Shyla walked around the table with a smirk on her face so you finally gave in.

“What?”

As you asked her she slammed her hands on the table in a dramatic manner.

“I found out why the new guy is here”

You weren't the one to gossip but you really wanted to know why Daemon was there? Why was he here? What was hurting him?

“How did you find out?” You asked her to seem disinterested as you didn't want to make your interest apparent.

“I have my source girl” she patted herself on shoulders so you crossed your arms together.

“Uhuh and what did your source tell you?”

“Well you're not ready for this-"

“Just spill it already” you chuckled as you spoke but the way she was stalling had only gotten you more curious.

“He thinks..now listen to this..he thinks he's a dragon” she mumbled excitedly so you stared at her all perplexed.

“What?”

“The new guy believes that he's a human dragon hybrid or something like that.. unbelievable right?”

Oh well!! That was a big problem huh.

👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

[waltzreprise]

first line of my fics!

Thanks @m00neroni for the tag! 💕

The day when wedding bells didn’t ring (but we found each other) — Wolfstar/ Ex Friends to Lovers / Muggle Au / Explicit / One Shot

"The first thing Remus thought when the taxi pulled up was that getting married in the middle of nowhere was the perfect start to a horror movie".

The night when calm won over nerves — Wolfstar/ Proposal / Muggle Au / One Shot

“This is the best birthday present I’ve ever received,” Sirius said as he looked out the window, watching the snowflakes falling onto the ground in Vienna.

Run into you — Wolfstar / Meet Cute / Muggle Au / One Shot

James always said that going for a run in the morning was the best thing you could do for your mental health.

Everyone adores you, I don't know why - or maybe I do — Wolfstar / Muggle AU / Meet Ugly / One Shot

Everyone said that Remus Lupin was a wonderful person.

Every day of our lives — Wolfstar / Fluff / One Shot

First times are always special, although not always because they are perfect, far from it.

Cheese, chorizo and apple juice: A last first date — Wolfstar /Fluff / One Shot

It had been raining all day and it didn't look like it was going to stop anytime soon.

Front row show, a marvelous wedding. Sincerely, an old classmate — Wolfstar / Muggle AU / Wedding / Explicit / One Shot

If you were at Hogwarts when Remus Lupin and Sirius Black started dating, you'd probably already seen enough PDA to last you a lifetime.

Every day, Sirius was a customer, and Remus was his favorite barista. — Wolfstar / Muggle AU / Coffee Ship AU / One Shot

Every day, when Remus was in his uniform, Sirius would come out of the shower puffing.

Crescent moon, Burning love — Wolfstar / Mature / One Shot

The full moon had a clear and heartbreaking effect on Remus Lupin.

Stop the world for one night — Wolfstar / Muggle Au / One Shot

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First prize for lazy mornings: Top 10 best moments in life — Wolfstar / Fluff / One Shot

In the top 10 of the best sensations in the world was to wake up without alarm, no noise, no tasks.

The Grand Gesture of Love — Wolfstar & Jily / One Shot

Remus was extremely shy, he didn't like people to pay much attention to him, but deep down, his heart longed to be the centre of someone's attention, especially one person, Sirius Black.

Loving you (and falling in love with you) — Wolfstar / Muggle AU / One Shot

To say that Sirius was desperate was an understatement.

Professor Lupin and Mr. Black against the Flu — Wolfstar / Muggle AU / One Shot

Remus knew perfectly well when he was about to catch a cold, he felt it and saw it coming, so when one night before going to bed he drank water and it felt like swallowing a piece of glass, he guesses what was coming.

Operation: No Money If They Don't Caught You With the Hands in the Honey — Wolfstar / Secret Relationship/ One Shot

The kisses went down his neck, fast and uncontrolled, his hands pushing aside the collar of his shirt to give more space to those lips that caressed his skin, those teeth that bit his flesh and that tongue that licked and sucked, making him gasp uncontrollably.

The night I told you I was coming back — Wolfstar / Muggle AU / Getting Back Together / One Shot

It was just after midnight and James was sitting on the couch when Sirius opened the door to his flat and walked in, leaving his motorcycle helmet in its place and his leather jacket on the coat rack.

Kisses and other things that couples do — Wolfstar / Muggle AU / One Shot

It was a winter afternoon, the cold and the rain made staying at home watching a movie or reading a book much more appealing than any other plan.

A little help for a grieving heart — Wolfstar / Grief + Fluff / One Shot

Lily set a cup of tea in front of Remus, who was staring out the window, causing him to startle.

Welcome, don't look at the kitchen — Wolfstar / Meeting The Parents / One Shot

Sirius was more than focused on his job, that is, making Remus writhe bent over the counter just from the movements of his tongue going in and out of him.

The animal instinct to love — Wolfstar - Moonfoot / One Shot

Sirius and Remus had started dating a week before the full moon, which might not have meant anything.

Keep bad dreams away from you, not love. — Wolfstar / Getting Back Together / One Shot

There was blood.

An unasked question for an answered one — Wolfstar / Yule Ball / One Shot

Remus knew that something like this was not going to work out for him, he knew it and he hadn't cared, so now he felt completely ridiculous.

A free space in the heart — Wolfstar / Canon Divergence - Everyone Lives / One Shot

Having children had never been an expectation for Sirius or Remus.

The love of the moon for its brightest star — Wolfstar / Soulmates AU / One Shot

Getting to the 7 year was always exciting, after all it was the last year of school before going out into the real world, which made the students the eldest, the most coveted status at seventeen years old.

On wheels and between the sheets, tell me that you love me — Wolfstar / Road Trip / Explicit / One Shot

Sirius was leaning against the door frame, his ankles crossed and his hands in the front pockets of his jeans, smiling mischievously and not bothering to hide it when his gaze slid to the opposite lips.

To the beat of a better future — Wolfstar / Royalty AU / Muggle AU / Period AU / One Shot

The music could be heard through the palace doors along with laughter and the sound of dancing shoes echoing across the floor.

The debacle of 95 and its fantastic happy ending — Wolfstar / Coming Out / One Shot

Sirius would call it the debacle of '75 and Remus... something he preferred not to think about.

About the talk between Sirius Black and Remus Lupin so many years after the First Wizarding War — Wolfstar / Lay low at Lupin's / One Shot

Remus's house was as warm as he was, but it was as cold as his soul had been for the last thirteen years.

Maybe nothing has worked before, because it was the opposite of us — Wolfstar / Hogsmade Date / One Shot

The prefects' bathroom used to be a quiet and peaceful place, it was rare to see more than a couple of people there taking a bath, but one autumn afternoon in '76...

If the moon punishes, a star can heal — Wolfstar / Hurt/Comfort / One Shot

He hadn't even fully regained consciousness when he noticed two things that made him wish he didn't have to wake up.

Little Red Riding Hood, the Big-But-Not-Bad Wolf, the Good Woodsman Prince and the Evil Granny — Wolfstar / Fairytale AU / One Shot

Once upon a time, there was a very large and dark mansion, where lived a family that was not larger, but darker.

A godfather's tricks, a teacher's treats — Wolfstar / Muggle AU / Hate Sex / Explicit / One Shot

Halloween was one of Sirius's favorite holidays since he was a teenager, but he had never loved it as much as when he started taking his godson trick-or-treating.

To be clear... It's not just a birthday present — Wolfstar / Sirius' Birthday / One Shot

November 3rd, 1978 was a Friday, so none of the Marauders had anything to do that weekend except celebrate Sirius Black's nineteenth birthday.

Jingle bells, Jingle bells rock, Mrs. Claus and the Grinch elope — Wolfstar / Christmas AU / One Shot

It all started on a Tuesday afternoon, just a week away from the end of the summer holidays and having to go back to university and the routine.

Rocking around Christmas Love — Wolfstar / Christmas AU / One Shot

Christmas had always been special for Remus Lupin.

Ask for help, you may get a good [redacted] — Wolfstar / Canon Divergence - Everyone Lives / Explicit / One Shot

The Harvest Moon had always mean problems.

New Year's Resolution: Re-start with a new year's kiss — Wolfstar / Canon Divergence - Raising Harry / One Shot

December 31, 1990.

Harry ran around the house like someone had thrown a tarantallegra at him, in his elf jumper and reindeer ears, singing and shouting as he tried to escape from his godfather, who was chasing him in a matching jumper and ears.

About the 5 times Lily and James talked in 6th Year and the one time when they didn't need to. — Jily & Wolfstar / 5+1 / Multichaptered

King Cross station, specifically the platform 9 and 3/4, was crowded.

Magic X Fashion presents: The most famous magic trousers of the 50s — Wolfstar / Canon Divergence - Everyone Lives / Explicit / One Shot

It had all been Alphard's fault.

[canirove]

Rice, Rice, baby | Chapter 15

Author's note: You don't want to miss this week's chapters 👀

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Masterlist

It's been three months. Three months, twelve days and twenty hours (yes, I've counted them) since I slapped Declan's face and told him I didn't want to see him again. But today that is over, because the national team is coming back to Tottenham training centre, and I'll have to face him again.

The phase of feeling like there is a hole in my chest and crying with everything is over. But am I ready to see him and those stupid blue eyes of his, to hear his loud laugh, and to smell his perfume everywhere around me? I am not. At all. 

But oh, well.  

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“What do you mean he isn't coming?”

“He picked up some kind of injury on the last game. Not sure what, tho, I don't understand those things” Olga says. “But he apparently is going back to Arsenal so he can rest.”

“Thank God” I sigh.

“You look so relieved, Liv” she laughs.

“Well, how would you feel if you were about to see again the guy you fell in love with and who broke your heart, and had to put on a smile on your face and make him coffee as if nothing had happened because otherwise you could be losing your job?”

“I don't think they would fire you for not smiling at him.”

“Yeah, but for dropping a boiling coffee on his precious feet…”

“Oh my God, Liv” she gasps. “I know he was a dick and I hate him for what he did to you. But would you do something like that?”

“Maybe” I shrug.

“Olivia!” she gasps again.

“I was kidding, it was just a joke. Relax.”

Though maybe I wasn't 100% kidding. Because I think this is the new phase I'm in. Violence. Rage. Wanting to hurt him as badly as he hurt me.

“I hope so” Olga says, giving me a worried look. 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Bloody hell” I curse when half the boxes of napkins I'm carrying end up on the floor.

“Let me help you” a voice says next to me.

“It's ok, don't… worry” I say, looking up at the owner of that voice and getting lost in the most beautiful blue eyes I've ever seen. Declan. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Uh?”

“Weren't you injured?”

“Yes.”

“Then?”

“They want to run some tests before I leave tomorrow.”

“Oh, good. The sooner the better. And I can do this myself, I don't need your help.”

“Liv, please…”

“No” I say, snatching one of the boxes from his hand and starting to walk away. 

“Liv, c'mon. I just want to talk.”

“And I already told you I don't want to talk to you ever again. Besides being a liar, are you also deaf now?”

“Liv…”

“Stop saying my name, Declan. You are gonna wear it off.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Yeah, sure” I snort. 

“I am, Olivia. If you'll let me explain myself…”

“I said no, Declan. And now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do” I say, turning around and walking into the cafeteria, taking big breaths to calm myself and not kick something or start crying again. Or both.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“See you tomorrow, Liv” Olga says before getting into her car.

“Bye” I smile back. 

It's already dark outside, the car park full of puddles from the rain. And I'm so busy trying to not step on one of them while also looking for my keys inside my bag, that I don't see the person standing next to my Mini until he talks to me.

“Hello, Liv.”

“Holy mother of Jesus!” I scream, my bag falling from my hands and ending on a puddle. “What the fuck are you doing here, Declan?”

“I want to talk with you” he says, picking up my bag.

“Again? Didn't I make myself clear earlier?”

“Yeah, but…”

“But you are stupid, I know. And now look, my best bag is ruined because of you” I say, snatching it from his hands just as I did with the napkins. It is soaking wet.

“At least your phone wasn't inside” he shrugs.

“What a relief, uh?” I say, walking around him and opening the car's door, throwing my bag inside.

“Liv, it'll be just a minute. Please let me…”

“No, Declan! I don't want to hear your excuses! I'm done with you! Why can't you understand it?”

“Because I… Liv…”

“Because I… Liv…” I repeat, making fun of him. “Don't you have somewhere else to be? Like texting that singer or one of those other girls you are sleeping with to let them know you will be free tomorrow?”

“Liv…”

“For the love of God, stop saying my name!” I say, lifting my arm to slap him like I did at his house. But like happened the second time, he grabs it before I can touch him.

“I probably deserved that” he says, closing the space between us.

“You definitely did, yes.”

“I was a dick.”

“You are a dick” I correct him, trying to stay focused on being mad at him. But it isn't easy. The way he is looking at me is making my heart beat too fast, my knees are already feeling like jelly as he keeps moving closer, and my skin is burning where his fingers are touching me.

“Liv…” he whispers, his free hand moving to my face, caressing my cheek.

“Stop saying my name, Declan.”

“I can't.”

“You…” He is too close. So close that I can smell his perfume everywhere around me, surrounding me, making me get lost on him. Fuck. Shit. No. “Declan…” I whisper.

And then, what I didn't want to happen, happens. 

At first he just brushes his lips against mine, something delicate, barely noticeable. But it is enough to send a wave of electricity through my whole body, making me shudder in his arms. And when he properly kisses me, I'm gone. My arms move on their own, wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer to me. Which only makes his kisses more intense, more desperate. We are kissing as if our lives depended on it, as if we needed each other to breathe. And that doesn't stop when I open my car's back door and we both get inside. When clothes start leaving our bodies, the little space turning us into a tangle of limbs, pushing us against the other as close as it is humanly possible, gasps, moans and other unholy noises leaving our mouths. 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Liv, this just came for you” Alex says, leaving a big package on the table where Olga and I are having lunch.

“Who is sending me something here?” I ask with a confused look.

“I don't know” he shrugs, sitting down next to us.

“Open it, Liv!” Olga says. 

“Ok” I say, doing as she's asked.

“Oh… my God. Did you buy yourself a designer bag?” she says when she sees the box.

“I didn't, no.”

“Then who sent this?”

“I… I don't know” I say, slowly opening it.

“Liv! That's the bag you've been wanting for ages! How many times have we gone to Harrods just to stare at it?” 

“Too many” I chuckle.

“Does it say who has sent it?” Alex asks.

“There is a note, yes” I say, taking it and reading it while Olga marvels at the bag.

“You once told me that you were in love with this bag, that you would go to Harrods with your friends and stare at it wishing it was yours. Well, guess what. Now it is. Hope it makes up for the one I ruined the other night. -DR ”

“And?” Alex asks again. “Who sent it?”

“Kennedy.”

“Madders’ wife got you a designer bag?”

“She says she got invited to do some free shopping, was able to choose whatever she wanted, remembered that I was feeling a bit down, and…” I shrug.

“They gifted her a designer bag?” Olga gasps, totally buying my lie.

“They gave her a budget and it was the same amount of money as the bag.”

“Wow. The life of a wag” she laughs. “I want friends like that too. This is so nice…”

“It is” I smile. 

“Olga, we need you” one of our coworkers says.

“Coming” she sighs. “Will you let me try it on later?”

“Of course.”

“Urgh, you are the best, Liv” she says, giving me a hug before leaving.

“Kennedy's last name is Rice now?” Alex says.

“Uh?”

“You may fool Olga, but not me. I know he sent you that bag. Are you back together? Did you forgive him?”

“No and no.”

“Then?”

“Then what, Alex?”

“Then why did he buy you that bag?”

“Because it is over. It is like a goodbye gift.”

“A goodbye gift?” he laughs.

“Yes. Now if you'll excuse me” I say, getting up and taking the bag and the package with me.

Even though Declan and I haven't talked again since what happened in my car, we both know what it meant: it was a goodbye. One that hurts and that neither of us wanted if we only think about what we were feeling that night, but that was the right thing to do.

[cheerycherrycandy-resurrected]

What if we kissed in the Maize Maze?

Ok so I wanted to start posting my Soulmates AU for Raindrop month, but writing for my Medieval one is going waay better than planned and it's confusing me to have 2 separate backstories in my head at once, so while I still have *checks calendar* 5 DAYS, here's a little stand-alone ficlet!

What if we kissed in the Maize Maze? A Midwest Emo Ghouls AU ficlet

Rating: T Content: fluff, literally that's it just fluff Words: 615

Lots of love to @alwaysjustmina for organizing this month again this year, I love any excuse to write about our soggy boys!! 🌦️🖤

hello @revengeghoulette, here is your summons as promised!! 🫡

Read below, or on AO3!

Haymaking season was coming to an end, and Swiss, Mountain and all the ghouls who pitched in to help were looking forward to a well-deserved break. To celebrate the end of the season, Swiss had built a maze out of hay bales for the children and kits of the town, as well as some of the more enthusiastic adults.

The whole community had come together to put on a party at the ghouls' farm. Mountain and his colleagues from the hardware store had built fairground games, Dew had dragged the church's speakers down on a trailer and was playing records Mist had brought from her shop. Aurora's cafe had a small pop-up, and Cirrus had brought a vat of apple cider, both alcoholic and non-alcoholic, for the younger guests. Cumulus was in her element, her little face-painting stall attracting such a sizeable queue that Sunshine had jumped in to help out. Phantom was taking his new role as Youth Pastor – and more recently Sunday School teacher – very seriously, replacing her in supervising a very intense game of tag. While Mountain minded the hay maze, Swiss was giving rides on the haycart he had hitched to the back of his tractor, driving the children and kits up and down the field in the warm afternoon sunshine.

After closing time, once the families had gone home, the ghouls had the place to themselves without getting in the way of the fun of the younger members of the community. Rain and Dew were the last ones left inside the maze. Aurora and Mist had quickly disappeared somewhere together, Sunny, Cirrus and Cumulus were deep into their mission of finishing off the cider now that their responsibilities were over, the three of them covered in rainbow paint and body glitter.

Dewdrop and Rain walked hand in hand through the maze, quietly drinking in each other’s company in the balmy evening air. Making it to the centre of the maze they sat down on a bale, surrounded by golden walls on all sides as the amber glow of sunset spread across the sky. Dew leaned his head on Rain’s shoulder, utterly content in the moment.

“It’s beautiful.” Rain commented, as they watched the play of colours around them. “Just like you.”

Dew turned his face to bury it in Rain’s neck, bashful.

“You are, and I’m so proud of you, taking over from Aeth like you did. You’re doing such a great job, love! Look at how the town and harvest are flourishing. I’m honoured to call you my husband.”

Never one to take compliments well, Dew redirected Rain’s affections by capturing his lips in a searing kiss. The pair lost themselves in each other, the cooling temperatures went unnoticed past the warmth of their bodies, the slight prickliness of the hay nothing compared to the soft slide of their lips.

By the time they came up for air, Dew having squirmed his way into Rain’s lap, the sky was glowing a deep russet colour. From outside the maze, they could hear the sounds of the others packing up to leave.

“Alright lovebirds, time to come out or I’ll send the dogs in!” they heard Swiss call. The pair only giggled, Rain placing feather-light kisses across Dew’s cheekbones while he blushed the colour of the sky.

“You don’t have a dog!” Dew hollered back as he struggled to hold in his giggles.

“Hi Dewy.” deadpanned Mountain.

Eventually, Dew and Rain managed to find their way out of the maze, neither wanting to be found and carried out by the giant earth ghoul.

“Nice straw hat, Rain.” smirked Swiss, “although normally you weave it into itself, not directly into your hair!”

[veirasurana]

Wrote a late birthday drabble for my amazing friend @kurczakmarty

It is a sequel to this drabble I wrote years ago: https://www.tumblr.com/veirasurana/154498772016/x-mas-exchange-gift-for-shirrill-below-the-cut

Hope you like it! :)

She wondered if flowers in her hair was a little too on the nose.

She was the herbalist after all. This town was as small as a town could be. There really was only one of anything-- one blacksmith, one barkeep, one tailor. She wondered if the blacksmith wore heavy duty gloves on dates, just so everyone would know that yes, this is the blacksmith obsessing over a menu and looking like a nug stuck in a barrel.

Maybe that was just her though.

Alea didn’t even know why this place had a menu at all. Small town, no real opportunity for large numbers of patrons. They served soup. And lamb. That was about it.

She wondered if he would show. He had been rather taken aback by the whole thing. Even if he had flirted and joked about dates the entire time she’d known him... she wondered in horror if it had all been talk and he didn’t actually want to go on a date with her.

Anxiety spiked and she felt her hands start to sweat. It felt like a million eyes were on her, asking why she was even here. Wondering why she was wearing blue flowers in her hair, and why were her eyes so yellow? Weird, weird, weird wei-

“I did not know that the chowder would be so fascinating.”

She nearly fell out of her chair. There he was, her favourite Crow. Sitting across from her, an amused smirk colouring his eyes that, ironically, had lovely crow’s feet. She exhaled shakily. “I didn’t even hear you!”

He laughed. “All part of the job. I hope you have not been waiting too long.”

“N-no, not at all,” Alea lied. Or maybe not. Was thirty minutes a long time?

He leaned on a casual hand, staring at her blatantly. “You look beautiful, by the way.”

“Not too much?” she stammered, nervously plucking at a flower.

“Not at all.” He looked up. “Those flowers are especially gorgeous. They remind me of an Antivan flower I see in the wilds quite often.”

She suddenly felt so much more confident. “Oh, what are they called? I know a few Antivan flowers, but not a lot.”

His face blanked a little. “Er, couldn’t really say for sure. I’m afraid I don’t pay too much attention to flowers, unless, of course, they are poisonous.”

She took out a journal. “Hm, they look a little like these forget-me-not’s?” She flipped through a few pages. “Maybe your flower is a dropmore? They are blue with a white centre.”

He snapped his fingers. “That is it!”

“They are difficult to cultivate,” she continued, engrossed in her knowledge. “They often die prematurely.”

He shrugged. “Well, so do people. I would know.”

She covered up her giggle with a hand.

They ordered their food-- two orders of soup and lamb, respectively-- talking about very normal, day to day things. Such as the paralyzing effects of certain herbs and what they thought was the prettiest deadliest plant in the world.

After a few bites, she eyed him over. “You are feeling alright then? How is your pain?”

He posed, open armed. “Right as rain, thanks to you.”

He was lying. Those injuries wouldn’t heal that quickly. “Well, stop by the shop before you leave anyway. I’d like to do one more round of healing and whip up some poultices for you to take on your trip back home.”

“Your concern is touching, however, I promise I will be fine. I shall not intrude upon you further.”

Alea shook her head. “You are not intruding! I told you, I want to help.”

The Crow smiled, but it was not a happy smile. It was a mask of many things, things she couldn’t truly know for certain. Her imagination ran wild with what she thought being a Crow would be like, knowing she probably hadn’t a clue. He felt so close and confident. Skilled at the social cues that eluded her so easily. But at the same time...sometimes he felt completely empty.

They finished their meal with nothing further said about it. She hoped she hadn’t ruined the night entirely.

He offered his arm. Ah, it wasn’t over yet.

“Where to next,” she asked, hugging his arm lightly.

“There is a beautiful canopy out in your forest, perfect to watch the stars,” he replied, almost dreamily.

She nodded and smiled. “ I know of it.”

“Oh?” he teased, “I thought you never left your shop.”

She pushed him playfully. “I go there to gather herbs!”

“Alone?”

“Well, yes.”

“Then let me show you how fun it could be with another.”

The sun began to set as they trudged through uneven dirt, the path far more familiar to her then him. She showed him shortcuts well hidden by the brush, pointed out dangers to avoid, such as favourite places the bears liked to sleep.

The canvas of trees muted the world, a welcome respite from the voices of the town. Alea got along with the townsfolk well enough, in that she hadn’t been hunted or accused of being an apostate just yet. Still, the noise was deafening at times. This was the only place to go to get away from it all. She’d gotten very familiar with these trees over time.

Then they reached it-- an opening of the blanket of leaves. Far enough away from the lights of town to get a spectacular view of the stars. They twinkled brighter as the sun finally slept.

They found a nice spot to lay on their backs, mesmerized by the deep blue and black sight of the night sky. They didn’t speak for a long time, just drank in the wonder a view like this could muster.

“It’s breathtaking...” Alea whispered, almost to herself.

“I couldn’t agree more,” he replied. She turned to him, and saw that he wasn’t looking at the sky, but her.

Her pulse rose as he leaned in. She wasn’t sure why she was compelled to cover his mouth with a few fingers. Then, she knew. “I don’t kiss people whose names I don’t know.”

He chuckled, as if he heard that before. He took her hand gently. “That would be a foolish thing to know.”

“Why, because it would put me in danger?” She shook her head. “It’s an easier secret to keep than being a mage.”

He made a face that said “fair.” But he still turned away, staring back up at the sky. Then quiet, once more. If that was as far as it would go, then that was that. She would be sad, never knowing him. She wanted to be close to someone who had a secret that was just as heavy as hers,who had just as much to lose as her. There was a safety in that. But if he wouldn’t, or couldn’t, be vulnerable with her, it would be a terrible thing to force it.

She smiled sadly, loneliness creeping into-

“Zevran,” he said suddenly. “That is my name.”

Her mouth gaped as she turned to him. He wouldn’t meet her eyes. Something told her he was blushing, as she couldn’t see it in the dark.

She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

Thank you, Zevran.

[queer-crip-grows]

Right-to-buy council houses without specifically only releasing housing that already had a replacement built was of the most notable ways of the *many* that Thatcher et al screwed the UK.

I’d love to have a law put in place that landlords either have to sign contracts to provide housing under council house-type contracts with rent controls to people on housing benefit etc, or sell to the local council at compulsory purchase prices.

Same for all the houses not being lived in - use to house people under contractual controls, or have to sell to the council housing central fund.

Personally I’d start converting all the office units that are no longer needed because so many people are working remotely now into housing too.

Same for the huge city centre shops - I’m not sure if the pattern repeats elsewhere, but I live near Glasgow and the city centre has basically died since Covid. No one is renting the huge retail stores and the place is full of unhoused folk, which is a fucking scandal. So convert them into housing; let the buildings see use, and let those folks get off the streets. Pets and kids specifically allowed too - get families out of one-room shelters and into proper homes of their own.

I’ve heard that there would be issues putting in water infrastructure, but given the place is literally crumbling already and usage in so many areas is so low that having workers digging up the streets to install water lines wouldn’t cause enormous disruption, the time to do this is *now*. Build rainwater catchment and purification systems on roofs too - we get so much rain in the UK it’s kind of ridiculous not to use it! Some of that could go directly to drip irrigation in gardens, but plenty could go right into the houses/flats too. And of course this would provide tons of jobs in construction, architecture, planning etc etc.

Install gardens and green spaces around the place while you are doing this - offer some at low rent, or to buy cheaply, to market gardeners, but specifically put spaces in for communal gardens with the idea of offering allotments and encouraging people to grow their own food.

Put solar panels on every roof and integrate spaces for smaller wind turbines amongst the houses too. Huge storage batteries in basements to make the new blocks as low-footprint and self-sufficient as possible power-wise.

It would be a *fantastic* opportunity to create genuinely accessible housing - office buildings and shops already have lifts and wide corridors ideal for wheelchairs and other mobility devices, so keep that in the design when creating housing. There is a hidden epidemic of houselessness amongst disabled people and older folk with mobility needs, so create low-rent council housing that specifically fits those needs there.

It would regenerate the areas - all the smaller shopfronts not suitable for housing conversion would fill up with people offering the things people in residential neighbourhoods need, with a guaranteed payer base. People on low incomes *use* all of their incomes on necessities, so small businesses selling those necessities will do well. Offer small businesses low rents to provide those necessities. Any that don’t fill up, offer to charities and use for council staff offering the aid and advice people transitioning into housing actually *need*.

Carers are generally low-paid - so this would be an opportunity to offer them cheap housing close to a huge client base in the new accessible housing. No need for low-paid, mostly-female workers to dash constantly between clients in cars. They could walk to work and walk in between clients, who would also no longer be trapped in inaccessible homes, so people who are not actually bedbound would hopefully be less housebound.

Put rooms in the blocks for communal and co-op activities to reduce isolation - with the lifts and wide corridors, even people who are functionally housebound are likely to be able to make it to a room in their own building, and even quite young children could get to those places safely on their own if their parents are working. Wraparound childcare, paid and informal, near where folks actually live.

City centre areas that are now largely dead other than unhoused people, with limited and decreasing zero economic activity taking place and a decreasing incentive for businesses to set up there rather than in out-of-town retail parks people need to drive to, would become vibrant communities with every incentive for businesses to set up there, particularly for the small businesses that still employ the majority of people.

It wouldn’t take a lot to extend this model to transform those out-of-town business parks that are currently largely empty either; nothing says the businesses that are still there would need to move, and they would have a huge new pool of potential employees living within easily walkable distance, though there would need to be oversight to make sure places like Amazon didn’t attempt to buy them up and turn them into company housing. There would need to be a little more investment to provide green transport links like electric buses and trains so that it would be easier for small businesses to move in to provide services, but given the tax income that would result and the reduction in pollution the investment would probably pay itself back within a decade or so.

[flo55i]

michael goes with daniel to the hospital 1.5k of Daniel&Michael for the platonic friend fix

“I want you to go with them, Michael.”

It wasn’t a question; Christian was already pulling at Michael’s headset and taking it from his neck, pushing him towards the car idling at the edge of the garage. 

“But Blake can…there are others more suited, surely.” Michael had trailed off. 

The level of emotion outlined in Christian’s severe frown surprised him into giving up whatever he was going to come up with to get out of it. He looked at the concrete floor instead, at the rain still pooling along pit lane, like he was intruding on a private moment. Maybe then he would have been able to swallow the lump in his own throat. 

Daniel was fine, he reminded himself.   

“I want you to keep me informed. Help him keep it together, that sort of thing.” The hand on his shoulder, guiding him out of the back of the garage had felt like a noose instead. 

By the time they are in the back of a car together, the choked feeling has migrated to his chest as Michael can’t work out what is appropriate to say at a time like this. What will be the first thing he and Daniel have said to each other in probably months. 

“How are you feeling then?” Is the generic phrase that he goes with. The last thing he needs is Daniel yelling at him again, accusing him of being unfeeling.

Cold-hearted wanker is the word he actually thinks was used last time. 

“Like I probably should have hit the McLaren instead.” Daniel snorts, and although he’s got his head leaning back against the headrest, Michael knows him well enough to tell that he’s smiling. Even if it’s in sarcasm. 

“I mean, it all happened so fast. I doubt anyone would have blamed you if you did.” Michael tries to assure any lingering guilt. 

“I’ll keep that in time for next time I crash out then, shall I?” 

It’s biting and Michael doesn’t give him the satisfaction of a reply. Eyes on the front, he concentrates on the two doctors who sit up in the driver’s and passenger seats of the SUV—one from the medical centre, the other from RedBull— who are arguing in German about the best way to leave the track. Cameras and fans crowd the vehicle making it hard to see anything out the windows and when Michael turns back, Daniel has his head tilted once more to the ceiling, eyes closed, conversation apparently over. 

He’s not asleep though. The broken arm is strapped carefully tight to his chest but his thigh is jiggling, teeth gritted, yet he still tries to breathe deep through them. It makes a little wheezing sound that has Michael pursing his lips. He wonders how much—if any— pain medication he’d been given so far. 

Not caring about offending Daniel’s delicate sensibilities, or how to approach the stalemate between them, Michael reaches for Daniel’s good wrist to check his pulse. The stupid idiot can rant and rave for all he cares, it’s his job to help.

(He needs to make sure Daniel’s ok.) 

The pulse is consistent enough, considering. Michael checks his pupils too— almost fully dilated, which means he’s running on adrenaline only. 

“Why didn’t you let them give you anything for the pain, you moron? Now is not the time to start playing the martyr.” Michael scolds. Whilst Daniel may have been too tired to protest his manhandling, Daniel bares the censure less gracefully. 

“This isn’t that kind of trip, mate.” And Michael knows the last word tacked on to the end is meant to be mocking. Hurtful. He tries not to let how much show on his face. 

“I know you don’t think I like, have any”, Daniel continues, apparently not done with settling the score, “But somebody’s gotta have at least some sort of control when they’re deciding the future of my career up there.” 

Tilting his head, he motions towards the two doctors out front, who haven’t spoken a word to Daniel about how he’s doing or what to expect since they barked at him to keep his arm above his heart as soon as the door was closed.

But instead of pity, the reminder of RedBull and their exacting levels of control over Daniel’s life has Michael angry. 

“What happened to, it’s nice to finally be with family? People who really care about me?” Michael throws back the words Daniel has been spouting to every tabloid ever since his return to the sport. 

It’s petty but Michael doesn’t care. It had felt like all their years of friendship being thrown back in his face. Still does. Serves the selfish fucker right to feel a bit of that back. 

But Daniel’s not playing that game with him anymore it seems. 

“Got me there!” He jokes. But his head is bowed, smile mocking somehow in its complacency. Michael thinks it might be regret. 

“You were always telling me I never did have the best instincts, right?”

It’s probably the most of an apology he’s ever going to get. And combined with the struggling, broken look Michael swore after last year he never wanted to see on Daniel’s face again, his first instinct is to fix. To make it better like he always has. 

It’s on the tip of his tongue to tell him of Horner’s concerned frown as he’d pushed Michael into the awaiting car to be with him, to help him. But he can’t help but selfishly think of his own feelings still burning away inside of him. 

How Daniel ought to know what it felt like for him as his heart had leapt right out of his chest the second he’d hit the wall. What it felt like for him when Daniel cut him out of his life like that because he dared to offer a different perspective on his life decisions like any good friend would. 

Michael berates himself immediately and wonders when it became a competition between them. An us versus them kinda deal. Him or RedBull. 

Wonders if he was this much of an asshole all along. 

Daniel had asked, he’d answered. No. No, he did not think it a good idea to go back to RedBull. But Daniel had taken it with all the grace and comprehension of an elephant. Accused him of being non supportive when he was only trying to be anything but. Just like he’s trying— failing— to do at the moment. 

Sighing out loud, Michael lets the opportunity to say I told you so go. Lets it all go. Because it’s not about him. Or them. Then or now. 

“Look.” He starts. “They love you so fucking much I have no doubt that they’ve already lined up an IV full of stroopwafles for you. The best money can buy.” 

“Is that so?” Daniel says, practically preening under the attention of the admission. Michael just sees how fragile he looks.

Even when you take away the bandages, the sling, even the bags of exhaustion under his eyes, he knows that cocky bravado is just a front for all Daniel’s insecurities and the things he won’t say. How he’s hanging on Michael’s words to believe him. 

The car comes to a stop. They’re at the hospital now. Michael feels Daniel tense up beside him. He  scoots closer, as if to hide Daniel from the hoards of fans tapping at the glass. He knows they only mean well but they are still demanding time and attention from him now, phones at the ready and already pointing in their faces like weapons. 

Michael moves again to make sure their knees are touching. Smiles when it’s enough to still Daniel’s own. 

“Yeah.” He swallows. “Yeah I do. This is your show, man.” 

“And what if I said I wanted to steal a wheelchair before they start thinking about cutting me open and harvesting me for parts to give to the junior program?” 

Michael looks to where the doctors are already out of the car, shaking hands with someone from the hospital emergency department to greet them in a white coat—obviously another doctor. Someone pretty important with the way three nurses follow in his wake. 

All for a broken arm, Michael scoffs. 

This level of scrutiny, of care, should hardly surprise him. RedBull have invested way too much money into Daniel and his body for them to give up the chance of losing it and the skills it’s cultivated now. He’s not gonna tell Daniel that though. 

From the tone Daniel had used— half-softening the blow from his own depleted expectations, half cautious— Michael is aware Daniel is checking if he’s as committed as he says he is. If he can be trusted with the truth of how scared about this all he actually is. 

Michael knows what to say this time. 

“Then I’ll get you a scalpel to fight back with. Whatever it takes.”  

And he means it. Especially later, as he’s standing back in the paddock, listening to Daniel’s order of events. He’s scowling at Marko for constantly interrupting to find out exactly when Daniel will be back to full function again. 

Daniel plays it up. The grin on his face and the erratic movement of his one, good arm says he’s thoroughly enjoying the way he’s keeping him in suspense. Helmut’s eyebrow seems to climb higher and higher the more Daniel ignores him, continuing his story about when they were plastering his arm. At how lost in translation the word mummy had got and the extra concussion tests they made him do because of it. 

To the side, amongst Daniel’s laughter, Christian slaps Michael on the back and says, “Everything turned out as well as it should then.” 

“Yeah.” Michael agrees softly, leaving it at that. 

Of course he could tell Christian about the way he had to bribe Daniel to get into the cat scan machine— just in case— giving him a running commentary on the topography of his brain like a David Attenborough video to keep him still and calm in the enclosed space. 

Or about the fact that Michael had to fill out all the forms presented to them because he apparently knows more about Daniel’s medical needs and history than he even did. Or their doctor. 

Or even how he ended up calling Daniel’s parents for him to tell them he was fine— not even a concussion, Grace. Not a screw any looser than what it was, I promise— because no one at RedBull apparently had yet. 

But he suspects Christian already knows all this. 

That’s why he sent him, after all. 

Knowing he needs to get back to the garage, to Yuki and his actual job, Michael gives Christian a single, appreciative nod. Giving respect where respect is due to the only other person he trusts here to do what’s best for Daniel and not just a driver for RedBull. 

Coming up behind them, he gives Daniel a conspiratory wink as he interrupts the conversation, “Just so you know, I do happen to own a scalpel.” 

Helmut looks confused. Michael doesn’t care. Simply enjoys the sound of Daniel’s laughter, the way he dares him to whip it out right there in front of their bosses. 

Daniel is fine. 

[douglas-rain]

Top Five Douglas Rain Recommendations From Yours Truly

You want to see more of Douglas Rain, but you're not sure where to start? Well, do I have the thing for you! As the internet's most preeminent Douglas Rain expert (except for Gerry Flahive I guess, but he's kind of slow at answering emails and more focused on other stuff these days. If he wants to reclaim the title, he can meet me in the parking lot <3), I've made you a handy little list of some of my personal favourite performances by DR that I think you should see and/or hear!

And by 'little' I mean 'I got way too into this, so it's pretty long now'. I put it under a cut; you're welcome.

In the interest of fairness, I've chosen one performance from each of his fields of work (namely: ON STAGE, RADIO WORK, DOCUMENTARY NARRATION, TELEVISION and FILM). Please know, however, that I can give reviews of basically everything in the masterpost, so if you're interested in hearing about any of them, feel free to shoot me an ask!

Without further ado, let's get into it...

-

ON STAGE: Henry V (1966)

Okay, this one's teeeechnically a TV movie, but it's adapted from Stratford's staged production, so I'm counting it. It's also a rare treat in that we get to see DR in colour! (Everybody say THANK YOU to David Rain, his son, for bullying the Festival into restoring this production and adding it to their online catalogue. I owe him my life.)

This is one of Shakespeare's histories, part of the Henriad (aka the collection of plays about the accomplishments of various English kings). Henry V, the main guy in this one, is actually the crowned version of Prince Hal from both parts of Henry IV, a role that DR had played previously at Stratford, so this is a fun bit of character continuity for him! The play centres around the king's invasion of France, with a lot of ruminating on hope and despair and duty and bravery. Harry - as he is affectionately referred to on occasion - is really going through it, and DR portrays him with such emotional intensity. He's proud, he's fierce, he's clever, he's a BITCH and I like him SO MUCH.

The book has been edited down slightly to fit into a two hour runtime for television, but beyond a few... very funny jumpcuts, it's not really noticeable at all. And while the sets are kept mostly simple, the costumes are gorgeous. I went in not expecting much (a mistake I keep making when approaching Shakespeare plays, for some reason lol), and was thoroughly entertained the whole way through!

It also contains the transcendentally funny line, "Tennis balls, my liege!" because Shakespeare was the most hysterical motherfucker on planet Earth. It makes sense in context, I promise.

Can be found on Stratfest@Home, the online streaming service of the Stratford Festival (there's a 7-day free trial period if you sign up). You may also check my masterpost of performances for a possible alternative, but shhh.

-

RADIO WORK: Fifth Business (1980)

I love this one; it's literally so fucking funny. This radio play is a dramatisation of the 1970 novel of the same name by Robertson Davies. Fifth Business recounts the life story of Dunstable "Dunstan" Ramsay, from his boyhood in an idyllic (on the surface only) Canadian village to his experiences in the First World War, his career as a teacher and all the loves and complications he runs into, and the formative experiences peppering his life where he's never quite the main character. He is instead 'fifth business' - neither hero nor villain, but still integral to resolving the play's plot. Ramsay is clever, sarcastic and a goddamn weirdo who's obsessed with saints for non-religious reasons. He dodged a snowball as a kid and the consequences of that haunt him throughout the entire book.

The radio drama features a whole cast of actors, including of course DR as the protagonist (who also narrates everything btw), doing an absolutely delightful job. Fellow Stratford actress Martha Henry, who also happened to be his wife at the time, is in it too!

The entire drama is delightful, honestly. I liveblogged my experience listening to it for the first time, and man there is some wild shit happening in this novel. The entire thing is about three and a half hours, but it really doesn't feel that long.

Can be found (in eight parts) on YouTube or on Archive.org. (Or in a junkbox on a sidewalk in Toronto. I'm still baffled by that.)

-

DOCUMENTARY NARRATION: Universe (1960)

A classic. Documentaries make up a sizeable chunk of the masterpost (thanks to the NFB website and archive channels on YouTube), so there were more options in this category than in any of the others. But I decided to go with this particular gem of a documentary.

It's about - who would have guessed - the universe, featuring the most advanced scientific knowledge of planets and stars at the time. The special effects are also quite impressive - if you move around Space Odyssey circles, you may have heard that the visuals of this documentary were a major inspiration for 2001. Also, DR's narration in Universe is what brought him to Stanley Kubrick's attention. You can probably guess how that ended. (Gerry Flahive has some articles about the whole thing if you don't.)

Anyway, Universe is a beautiful and meditative look at our galaxy and the many things it contains, and DR's narration is absolutely lovely. It clocks in at just under half an hour, so not that big of a time commitment either.

Can be found on YouTube or on the NFB website.

-

TELEVISION: William Lyon Mackenzie: A Friend To His Country (1961)

It's so hard to find old Canadian TV shows anywhere online and I'm forever bitter about it. Our options here are incredibly limited as a result, so you're just going to have to accept that I'm recommending you a historical short film from 1961, alright? This is as difficult for me as it is for you.

Unsurprisingly, this movie is about William Lyon Mackenzie, who was... *checks Wikipedia* "a Scottish Canadian-American journalist and politician." Yes, DR is doing a Scottish accent in this role. Yes, I adore it. I know very little about Canadian history, so I can't exactly speak to the film's accuracy, but I found it charming and DR is doing a very good job. Most of the half hour runtime is spent on Mackenzie's various political struggles (some sort of failed revolution, I gather, followed by exile in the United States and some jailtime) and him trying to protect his family. His wife is played by Canadian actress Kate Reid in this movie, which I personally find very funny for... reasons. IYKYK.

Can be found on YouTube or on the NFB website.

-

FILM: OEDIPUS REX (1957)

I'm sort of cheating again, but the only other options in this category that I have access to are the two Space Odyssey movies, and they seemed like too basic of a choice. So have some more drama instead! This is also a filmed version of one of Stratford's plays, but released in theatres this time.

Oedipus Rex is a breezy 87 minutes and adapts the English translation by Yeats of the classic Greek tragedy by Sophocles, with a little added prologue to set the scene. It was directed by Tyrone Guthrie, who you might remember as the Big Man from The Stratford Adventure. Or from the fact that he was a pretty famous theatre guy. If you need a refresher on your Greek myths: Oedipus was the guy who was prophesised to kill his father and marry his mother. He got done dirty by Freud somewhere down the line.

DR plays the role of the Messenger, a minor part who recounts some of the most famous plot points of the tragedy of Oedipus, which they couldn't show onscreen/onstage. Granted, he's only in this one for like five minutes, but he really rocks up to crash the party wearing the coolest outfit in the entire show. And yes, everyone in this production is wearing Greek theatre masks, so you can't see his face. You get to hear his voice though - and watch his captivating body language!

Can be found on YouTube. Or you can probably buy it on DVD if you really want to; idk, I'm not the boss of you. (I've also clipped his scene if you really, really don't want to watch the whole play. I get it's a big ask. Really beautiful production though, seriously!)

[theretirementstory]

Not long now until the BIG day…… I think I am starting to get excited 😜, now that really is a big surprise to me.

It’s been a busy week, it was the last two sessions of radiotherapy and I had my final consultation with the radiotherapy doctor. I said I was going to gradually re-introduce “forbidden” foods and did I……… well I had been dreaming of chicken fajitas and I had those on Wednesday so I guess not 😂.

The weather hasn’t been too good, lots of rain and mist with a smattering of sunshine thrown in. I never heard back from the roofer so I guess I will just have to be patient and wait for the dry weather to arrive when he will come and fix the problem.

I encountered a problem with my Orange TV Box, I was ready to watch the third episode of “Vera” on Sunday evening, however when it came on it didn’t switch to English language as usual. I rang Orange on Monday to try to get it sorted and at one point I thought we had solved it but no. The lady rang me back on Tuesday and we agreed there must be a problem with the box. I was told to take the box back to an Orange shop. Now we don’t have one in town and the nearest is 100 km round trip 🙄 anyway I went on Wednesday in the pouring rain. It’s years since I had been in the centre of Chaumont and I was surprised by the number of shops that were there. I got the new box and in the afternoon decided to set it up. Imagine my surprise when, set up, I had no sound or vision. I made a call again to Orange and after speaking to a man twice (without the problem being solved) I rang again and got a lady who did a lot of tests at her end and got it all sorted, even the problem with getting programmes in the original version. How pleased I am but very sad that I missed Vera in English.

Pauline and I decided to go to the cinema on Thursday night, to see Napoleon. The start time was 8:15 and it ran for 2.5 hours so I was going to have a really late night. We both enjoyed it very much and after picking up the flyer decided there was another film we would like to see. “La Tresse” (The Braid) so we are going on Monday evening, start time that night is 9pm!

I went to the cinema again on Friday evening (alone) the flyer said the movie was on at 18:30 and ran for 1h 27m so I would be home after 8pm. The film was in original version and looking at the actors I should have realised not in English, it was in Japanese 😂😂 with French subtitles. I stayed because the title was “Perfect Days” and the soundtrack included Perfect Day by Lou Reed with the talented Mick Ronson on piano, songs by The Animals (can you guess which song?) and Nina Simone to name but a few. I sang along (not loudly) but obviously loud enough that the lady two rows in front said to me at the end “English songs, for you to sing”. I wasn’t too concerned about being heard, there were only 4 of us watching the movie. Any thoughts of getting home just after 8pm were dashed as I checked my watch at 8:15 and the film was still in “full flow”. It was 9pm when I finally got home so it was straight to bed for me!

This week “The Ex-Graduate” has been unwell and couldn’t go into work for two days. It sounds as if she had ‘flu symptoms. On Friday she had an interview for a “real” job in her chosen profession. She messaged to say the interview was rotten, she was so nervous and didn’t know what she had rambled on about. Then later messaged to say she had been offered the job! Wow, good on you girl. I was so excited I couldn’t type my congratulations so rang her instead. How wonderful 🥳🥳.

“The Trainee Solicitor” has had another busy week and also a busy weekend. He is catching up with pals before Xmas, was at his work Christmas “do” last night and has usual weekend activities like good shopping to get sorted 😳.

The person formerly known as “The Daddy” now to be known as “The Photographer” due to his activities at Scarborough Athletic FC and also advertisements for clothes firms, restaurants etc. He also has had a busy weekend, my gorgeous grandchildren are with him and it was a Saturday off work so it meant he spent longer with the children. He went to his work Christmas “do” last night but reckoned on being home by 9pm (even with an hours drive). Blimey, not the work Christmas do I remember, where it involved all night, quite a few beverages and good food. Apparently the children are now being taken to the cinema to see a recorded panto. Funnily enough, I was looking at my legs this morning and remembering back to when I played the Prince in Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs wearing my principle boy outfit, exposing a lot of leg, I think I have those shapely legs back again (my thoughts entirely) 😂😂.

Anie came to see me on Wednesday evening bearing Christmas gifts. She was thrilled with the Christmas cactus and when I handed over two other presents she exclaimed it was too much. How much is too much I ask myself, she has been an absolute wonder while I have been ill as have lots of other friends. She was leaving to stay with her son on Thursday, he would then take her to CDG airport for her flight on Friday. So she will be there now, with her family and granddaughter, Blanche.

Monique didn’t get to see me this week either as she had to go to physio for her sciatica. She is going to come down on Monday afternoon, I just hope her plant is ok and will last through Christmas and New Year.

I have just had a message from a lady who attended the knitting group before Covid. She has extended an open invitation to me, to visit her at home. How very kind. I guess I will be stuffing dates, making mince pies and peppermint creams to take with me.

I can’t see there being much knitting done between now and Christmas Day.

I took a watch to the jewellers in town yesterday for a new battery. While I was there I spotted a rather beautiful ruby necklace. Now my grandmother’s engagement ring has a beautiful red stone in and I am going to take the ring to see how close the colour is to the stone on the necklace and I may well buy the necklace. It has been made by the jeweller so I reckon it will be a “one off”. Of course I will have to try the necklace to make sure it has a long enough chain etc but with all the weight I have lost this year I think my neck size has reduced too.

Now to the music part of the blog, I thought a quick look at the Christmas number 1’s in the UK might be a good place to look but goodness me, I couldn’t really pick a good one out of them. So instead let me pick two songs from an artist who’s music I have loved since the sixties. The first is from 1970 and the second from 1976 the songs are by Diana Ross and the first is “Reach out and Touch” and the second is “Love Hangover” as I have said previously it’s not just the lyrics but the music that appeals to me on a lot of my choice of records.

The photos this week were taken in Chaumont (in the pouring rain).

[anthonysstupiddailyblog]

Anthony's Stupid Daily Blog (1168): Tue 10th Jun 2025

I left Lucy downstairs with the front door open this morning so that she could go in the front garden after her breakfast while I was in the shower. When I came down to check on her not only had she done a shit in the kitchen but she’d walked in it as well. She must be doing it on purpose because there’s an entire kitchen floor that hasn’t got shit on it she’s free to walk on but she always seems to trod in the one piece that’s got her own excrement on it. She treads in her shit the way Peppa Pig jumps in muddy puddles and she must be doing it as a way of acting out her frustration at not getting walked as often as she wants. I get where she’s coming from but IT’S RAINING ALL THE TIME! I’m not in charge of the weather. Michael Fish is! 

I went to the town to hopefully snag a pair of trainers I saw in TK Maxx the other day. Thankfully they were still there and they feel even better than the pair I had to leave at Tough Mudder due to them being caked in mud. Also my old pair were plain grey whereas these new trainers are  bright blue, orange and green which I imagine will make me run faster (I’m basing this on absolutely nothing) and I’ll be able to give people epileptic fits just by going for a run. Not all people of course mainly just the epileptic ones. I picked up a pair of sunglasses too to replace the ones I left at Tough Mudder. I realised too late that I'd forgotten to put the glasses in my bag in the check in and there wasn't enough time to go and put them in there too as the race was starting so I left them under the crowd barrier but when I went back they had been stolen. Luckily I remembered to rub my balls and arse all over them before I left so whoever did steal them probably has the worst case of pinkeye in human history.

Later on I went with my sister and Dad to watch Luna play football at the leisure centre where me and my mates used to go swimming. Luna did a good job during the warm up where the kids had to move the ball around a series of cones and then back to the starting position again. However she still barely pays attention when the coaches are trying to give her advice and keeps climbing on the goal instead, this tells me that she probably doesn't really want to be there. She did okay during the game but weirdly she keeps putting her hand up to request the ball instead of shouting for it or moving closer to it. She also seems a bit nervous when it comes to tackling but hopefully she'll get better as she persists. In recent weeks Luna's been upset because at the end of the game the coaches normally give out these little cards with stars on them to the players they think did something notable during the game and normally she never gets given one but today she did. It was nice seeing her play for the first time but I think what she needs is some one on one coaching to help her get the basics down because she doesn't quite know how to get stuck in with all the other players.

[papercherries]

My life continues to get more interesting or less interesting. Generally recently my days have been riddled with stress and depression due to the threat of being evicted and looking for a job.

On the rare occasion that I leave the house I usually get drunk and hang out with friends. This is where the more interesting stuff happens. Though, mind you I used to be an alcoholic so it feels nice to finally be able to drink and have fun but not do it because I'm depressed.

Thrice this week i have been drunk. Monday, I went to a concert and was very prepared for a quiet night. I met a guy there who I got along well with and we hung out till about 2am when he went home. I was quite drunk at this point but still within the range of being somewhat functional. I then made the grave mistake of walking into an off license and that's where I saw it. A beautiful glowing green bottle, rarer in this city than my previous one. I had missed it. Twas dangerous stuff but I was drunk enough to ignore said danger. I obviously bought it. Drank it as I walked through the centre of the city to try get home. Then submitted and got an uber. But, I do not like cars. I get very easily carsick and the extra alcohol I picked up is notorious for upsetting your stomach. So I was freezing up in the uber. Just trying to focus on staying alive. Round the corner of my house I finally decided to give up and told the driver that here would be ok. I then threw up in someone's front garden. I felt awful about it but I know nobody would know and it would wash away in the rain cause I hadn't eaten at all. I got home, had lost my headphones somewhere along the way and called my friend. To which I then had a very risque conversation with them which was definitely driven by my deep drunkeness. Apparently they enjoyed it though.

However, the day after. I had planned to go out with my friend to another concert. It was a really cool funk/punk brass band and I wanted to go. But I was dying, so hungover. So I did what any sane person would do. I ordered food, had a shower, had a coffee, drank plenty of water and then started drinking. Now the best cure for a hangover is more alcohol but where do you stop? If you regulate the right amount throughout the day you can feel weird and strange but not completely awful. Then u can stop drinking and have a minor 2 hour hangover instead of a 3 day bed rot. However this is extremely unhealthy and besides the point of the story. Me and my friend went to this concert, it was fun. Not much to note of this night to be honest. Besides being too friendly with my friend, after we had decided it was a bad idea for us to be this friendly. We also realised this a second time and continued on our way. I was quite drunk by the end of the night and usually I'd get the bus back and I'd be swell. But my friend decided that I should sleep on his floor which was fine by me but then he offered me a joint. I was already a little high but generally it's a bad idea for me to get crossfaded on alcohol. I ended up throwing up on his bathroom floor. Luckily it was a wet room. Felt awful and apologised profusely but then left the next morning.

Now Friday rolls around. My friend has been asking for us to go to this big emo night in our city and I had wanted to go before so I went. The situation was odd though, because she had got guest list from this guy she'd met at a different emo night a couple weeks ago. I thought it was suspicious. I still do. He weirds me out. There's nothing wrong with him and he was civil with me. I don't know, he was 29 and my friend is 19, they're both consenting adults but the other people he was with seemed like he did this frequently.

Anyway, It was fine, the usual happened. I got drunk, danced, got drunk, smoked far too many cigarettes. Anyway, my friends have to leave because one of them isn't feeling very well but I stay. I trust they could get home safe and I kept in contact with them the whole way. I had made a couple friends there that I had met at a different emo night. They remembered me a little too well which shouldve weirded me out a bit more but I'd like to think I'm quite recognisable, plus I was wearing my trademark. They even remembered the t shirt I was wearing last time. Anyway turns out this was flirting and I was just oblivious, plus the two people I was hanging out with were a couple who I assumed was in a monogamous relationship. It was 2 women and I remember one of them saying "I remember thinking about you a lot after the first night we met because I was thinking "maybe I am attracted to men"" I then let her know I'm enby and she was relieved which I found quite funny. But yeah, night goes on. I ended up hanging out with them for the rest of the night. And at some point I must've realised I was being flirted with or maybe they said something that was so straightforward that even my autistic brain could figure it out. And we ended up being rather friendly and such. Nothing serious but definitely friendly. So now I am kind of a third of this relationship which I'm not even sure what that means. They kept touching my hair, which is fine, I like my hair being touched. It's actually one of my favourite things but it was a lot. I eventually told them that they were doing it wrong and had to show them how to properly do it. I think people see my outfit and they think I'm like a puppy. I do have the fluffiest dirty blonde hair and I wear a red bandana. You might as well call me lassie.

Needed to write down what's been happening this week because I wasn't quite sure how to process it. I've been feeling like shit but these events make things interesting at least.

[thedoctorandhis]

You woke to the sound of thunder and rain hammering against the roof of your apartment. The bustle of Auckland City streets below created a symphony of distant car horns and rushing footsteps. It had taken some getting used to, winter in July and hot summer days on Christmas, but after nearly six years in New Zealand, it felt like a second home.

This morning, you woke with a start, your heart pounding from yet another nightmare. Clocks ticking backward and a fire engulfing your mind's eye. All you could hear was your mother's voice telling you to come home. The memory clung to you, unsettling and vivid. These dreams had been recurring for weeks, leaving you with an uneasy feeling that something was terribly wrong.

Turning over, you looked at the clock. 6:30 AM and still pitch black outside. It was too early, yet the city was already alive with activity. Cars honked, and people rushed about, seemingly unfazed by the early hour. Did they even go to sleep last night?

You slipped out of bed, wincing as your toes touched the cold floor. It felt like ice against your skin, a stark contrast to the burning sensation in your nightmare. Shivering, you wrapped a blanket around yourself, trying to shake off the lingering unease.

You padded to the kitchen, the tiles cold underfoot, and began your morning routine. The kettle whistled as you prepared a cup of tea, hoping the warmth would chase away the chill in your bones. You glanced around your small apartment, its cozy furnishings a far cry from the warmth of home. Homesickness washed over you, a familiar ache.

As you sipped your tea, a wave of dizziness hit you. You gripped the counter for support, your vision swimming. The sensation passed quickly, but it left you unsettled. You had never felt quite right since the nightmares began. There was a tightness in your chest, a hint of heartburn that refused to go away. It was as if something inside you was trying to tell you something, but you couldn't quite grasp what.

You tried to brush it off and focused on getting ready for work. You dressed quickly, choosing comfortable clothes to combat the cold. The mirror reflected a tired face, shadows under your eyes hinting at the restless nights. With a sigh, you grabbed your bag and headed out the door.

Your job at the travel centre was a far cry from what you had envisioned for yourself. Day in and day out, you helped people plan their holidays and adventures. Sometimes you would get swept up in the fantasy, imagining yourself on the islands in Greece or climbing a mountain in Machu Picchu. But as you sat there listening to your regular customer, Mr. James, talking about his fifth vacation for the year, your mind wandered back to those dreams.

You felt the burning of the flames on your skin, heard the clock ticking, and just like she was right behind you, your mother's voice whispered in your ear, "Honey, come home." You replied automatically, "Coming, Mum."

Mr. James looked confused. "Excuse me?"

You snapped back to reality. "Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. James. I haven't had anything to eat today. Low blood sugar probably, don't ya just hate that?" you say Quickly changing the subject "I'm more than happy to organise this for you. I have all of your details. Give me a few days to put together an itinerary, and I'll get back to you."

you ushered Mr. James out the door, knowing you had no intention of getting him those travel documents. You had a few plans of your own to make.

[thaylepo]

Trees and shrubs are really complicated compared to perrenials and a more costly investment. The garden centre I worked for that I liked the most had an automatic 1-year warrantee on all trees and shrubs, if it died before the end of next summer it was a full refund or replacement.

I'll also add to look more closely at the specific climate conditions of your region compared to what the new tree needs to establish itself, and definitely get advice from your garden centre tree nerds! For example, where I live our summers are very hot and dry, often with heat waves that could cook a new sapling to a crisp in its infancy. Our soil is nutritionally poor below the couple feet of topsoil that's usually spread over building development till, it's all clay and sand/gravel. Our winters are equalky dry and drop to below 40, with very little snowfall for ground insulation. We also get extremely strong winds from the west that I've seen pull out and topple mature landscaping trees right from the root cluster. These winds are famous for having shifted whole buildings off their foundations over the years. It's not uncommon to see trees growing all bent over in areas with natural growth.

So when planting a new tree in these conditions, I'd need to think about all these things:

Finding the right a spot for it, where it gets enough sun but is sheltered somewhat from direct west wind. I'd want to use a stake, maybe even a couple, for the first year after planting to help it grow straight, but no longer than that or it won't establish strong enough roots to hold itself in the ground against the wind.

Is the TREE happy with that spot? So many people plant the tree they want in the spot they want it, and get frusterated when the two don't agree and their hydrangea burns up against a hot west-facing wall, or their water-loving pussy-willow won't thrive up on the dry top of a drainage slope, or their double flowering plum won't flower at all because it's in a spot that gets only 3 hours of partial sunlight a day and flowering trees need sunlight. Even a hardy native tree isn't going to thrive when planted in a spot that doesn't suit it.

Definitely the slow-drip watering every week, and continuing into a heat wave if we get one. You need to monitor how dry the soil gets and how quickly to space your waterings properly, instead of going by how miserable the tree looks. More people killed their new trees by overwatering during the heatwave than underwatering when I worked that job, because the leaves were still crisping up in 105 degrees no matter how much they watered.

Tree planting fertilizer and/or a mycellium establisher meant for trees the first year for sure, and then spring fertilizing every year after especially for fruiting and flowering trees. Even if your soil is really good, unlike ours, flowers and fruit cost the tree valuable energy and a lil boost in spring really helps. Because it's so dry here and we don't always get the spring rain we need before summer, I'll often a couple slow-waterings two weeks apart when my fruit trees start to flower, and maybe again when the fruit (if it's not already raining enough). It REALLY helps even with mature trees! Just be super careful about overwatering.

Pay mind to specific tree needs, like pruning seasons and overwinter care. Newly planted evergreens like spruce and juniper need to be locked in at the end of fall, which means slow-watering that freezes in the ground overnight to insulate the roots in a nice protective iceball for the winter. This insulation keeps them a few degrees warmer than the rest of the soil, which is frozen with a lot of cold air trapped in it. You often have to do this for several years after planting them to avoid winter-kill, where whole sections of the evergreen turn brown and die by next spring. Cedar, which is notoriously miserable to grow here, really needs this every year for the rest of its life. Some deciduous trees may be zoned for your winter but are prone to above-ground tissue-freeze or frost damage and need to be wrapped in burlap once they've lost their leaves. Banking your trees in mulch and even snow if you get enough can help insulate.

Lastly, what do you want from your tree? To look nice? To shade a spot for you? To blick your neighbour's yard for privacy? To grow fruit? Some tree are zone-hardy here but will not meet these requirements in the conditions here. Apricot trees will grow just fine and survive our winter, but they flower too early in the spring to avoid frost and will never bear fruit because their blossoms are destroyed. Some beautiful spreading shade trees grow thinner and stragglier here because of poorer water and soil. We have a very short growing season, so privacy hedges can take years to actually become.... you know, privacy hedges. And no matter what you do, no matter how hard you try, a pine/spruce tree here is always going to kill the grass around it. It just will. It's a fact of life. Accept it, and ring it with a nice rock garden. You'll both be happier lol

Congratulations on mastering gardening! I would like to ask if you know how to plan a tree in your yard and then not kill it?

Ahahahah boy I wish I'd mastered gardening. Technically I'm not even a Master Gardener yet--I have to do the volunteer hours. I'm an intern currently. My husband is enjoying calling me an unpaid intern, which is true, but the joke is that Master Gardener is a volunteer position anyway, so ain't nobody getting paid. But thank you for the congrats; I'm pretty happy. I really like our local MG program.

I also don't know how to plant a tree and not kill it. I have killed three so far this year alone. However! I do know many ways to kill a tree, so you can not do those.

Probably the biggest mistake is not watering them. Newly planted trees are larger than a tree that naturally grew in a spot would be, and have greater water requirements than rainfall usually provides. You need to water them--very slowly, so the ground absorbs the water and it doesn't just run off--at least once a week pretty much for the entire first year until winter dormancy.

Here, at least, the next biggest problem is that you need to protect them from deer. I put rings of wire fencing around mine, supported with t stakes. This will also make the tree less vulnerable to mechanical damage like with a weedeater or mower. Any cuts are entry points for disease, same as on a person.

Next, use a fertilizer. Just pick a tree fertilizer and follow the directions.

Uhhh...what are some other basics? Oh! Better to plant a smaller tree than a larger one. The larger the sapling, the more likely that the root growth has been restricted, and a smaller tree may well suffer less transplantation shock and make up the difference with faster growth--plus it'll cost less.

Oh, and DON'T do those mulch volcanoes. Mulch is great, but don't put it directly against the tree trunk. That makes a great environment for insects and fungi that could damage the tree. Put a couple inches of mulch in a ring *around* the tree, but not against it. Mulch donuts, not volcanoes.

I guess the last tree I killed this year was probably because of low winter temperatures. It was a hardy pomegranate which was theoretically good to go in this temperature zone, but I planted it in fall, so it had very little time to establish itself or save up resources for dormancy, and then we had an exceptionally harsh winter. Sometimes, you just have losses you couldn't reasonably predict or prevent, but if I had filled that tree's protective cage with a light mulch like tree leaves or corn husks, it's possible that I could have provided enough insulation to get it through the winter. It does highlight the importance of only planting varieties that are suited to your climate, though. Do your research. Generally, don't buy those fruit trees at the grocery store--go somewhere reputable. Online if you don't have something good locally.

The husband very correctly wants me to point out that choosing the right tree for the right spot goes well beyond what your USDA growing zone is. It also includes things like is this a soggy spot? Is this a protected south facing slope? Is this partially shaded at any point in the day (bad for many trees, necessary for some)? and so on. A tree is a long-term commitment, as well as a kinda expensive one, so you really wanna do your research.

Of the other two trees I killed this year, one was deer damage and one was probably a disease, because it was doing fine and then one day it just all wilted simultaneously. I don't know. Sucks. It was a black cherry in its third year of growth.