#I was very excited to play a game with proper accents in it but what is the is???

[aspiringhorrorauthor]

What the fuck is this shit? I’m on a computer playing a computer game?! Let me play ffs!!

[sadroundface]

10022 (excerpt)

franko and his first OMC!

“Hungry,” Justin says, pulling back and looking pleased.  He wipes his lips with the back of his hand.  Christine doesn’t like sloppy kisses.  “Man, I thought you English blokes were all repressed and Protestant, but you’ve got some passion in there.”  

“What,” Frank says, trying to compose himself a little, “So I’m your first Protestant?”

“Yeah, it’s New York City, please.  I’m all about the Jewish boys and the guilty Catholics.  That former altar boy thing!  I’ve never been with the Church of England.  Who’s paying before we get the fuck out of here?”

“I—I will.”  Frank wants Justin to like him.  He wants to be liked.  And luckily he’d thought ahead and withdrawn quite a lot of cash from the ATM earlier.  No need to whip out the Amex that says “Frank Lampard” on it.  He felt like he was playing enough games with fate tonight as it was.  

Justin stares at Frank’s wallet.  “You didn’t know personal training could pay so much,” Frank said.

“Yeah, I sure the fuck didn’t.” 

“You probably couldn’t make it work.  I think it’s the accent.”

Justin squints.  “Something about you doesn’t add up, you know” he says.  “But it’s fucking hot.  I like a mystery.”  He gropes at Frank through his pants and Frank feels like he’ll pass out.  Nothing has ever felt this good in his life.  It’s not Christine, not Elen, not some girl he’s drowning his whole lifetime of sorrows in at a club.  It’s a man’s hand…

They leave the club with their arms linked together, looking like a couple, surely, like the two men Frank had seen going in earlier.  Could dreams be real?  As a kid he’d always dreamed of being a professional footballer.  Dreams could be real. 

Justin pulls them toward a taxi as Frank watches the sidewalk for black patches of ice.  He looks up to notice that the driver has a Man Utd crest hanging from the rearview mirror.  And the panic is back.  

“No!” He tugs Justin’s arm in the other direction.

“You’re changing your mind?  C’mon, we’ve barely gotten to have fun.”

“No, I’m not changing my mind.  I’d just rather take an Uber.  They’re more comfortable.”

“Jeez.”  Justin sighs and pulls out his phone.  “I’ll get us one, then.  You really want the royal treatment, huh?”

“Of course.”

“There’s gonna be surge pricing. It’s Saturday night and it’s freezing, no one’s taking the subway.”

“I’ll pay you back.”  Frank squeezes his hand.  He feels brave enough to do this because he has gloves on. 

Justin grumbles.  “Put in your address, Sir James.”  Frank does.

“It says it’ll be here in three minutes,” he says.  “That’s not bad.”

I guess now I get to look at you in proper lighting,” Justin says.  The streetlamps are very bright on this block of 6th Avenue.  Even the darkest corners of the closed shop entrances glow a strange orange tonight.    He’s about Frank’s height but considerably skinnier, and his hand feels strong as it grips Frank’s chin.  “Damn.  Your eyes are something else.”

“I’ve been told.”

“Yeah, I’m sure the guys all say it.”

“Uhhh…”. He thinks I’ve been with lots of men?  It’s an exciting thought, but reassuring as well—he’s been doing it correctly tonight, somehow.   

“You kind of give cutie and daddy at once.  I’ve never seen that before…Tonight’s gonna be fun.”

“Yeah,” Frank whispers.  The alcohol is hitting him all at once.  He’s supposed to be taking good care of himself as the 36 year-old playing with a bunch of young lads.  Not drinking too much and staying out too late and hopefully—likely—getting fucked by a strange man who he’ll hopefully likely never see again.

“You top?”

Frank’s mouth hangs open, the bitter wind making his lips feel dry instantly.  Oh, this is getting too real.  What should he say?  He hasn’t got the slightest idea.  But what does he want to say?  “N—“

Justin’s eyes light up.  “No fucking way.  A tank like you’s a bottom?  No switching?  Good boy.”  The Uber is pulling up and he smacks Frank on the ass hard, his thick wool coat barely dulling the feeling.  Oh, so he’s a good boy.  Good boy good boy good boy.  He’s supposed to be a good boy.  Would Jamie ever call him that?  Would he say it and make it sound fucking filthy like this man just has on this windy, dirty street?

Their driver has the radio on and it’s playing the same song they’d just heard in the club.  “Justin?” the driver confirms as they shut the doors, and he turns right at the corner to make his way crosstown.  

“This song’s everywhere,” Justin says.  “Baby, I'm faded, all I wanna do is take you downtown…”

“Mmmm” Frank says.  He leans his head on Justin’s shoulder and smiles.  What had he been so nervous about, really?  This hadn’t been so hard.  The way Dad and his friends had always acted like there was something visibly wrong with him, and this was what it was…I guess that worked in my favor tonight, Dad.

“Baby, I’m wasted, all I wanna do is drive home to you…Close your eyes, Sir James.”

So Frank does, and he feels lips kiss each eyelid and then slide down onto his mouth.  The kiss is different than it had been at the bar.  That was exploratory, he guesses.  But this one has a purpose.  He opens his mouth wider for tongue.  The car hits a pothole and their teeth clatter together.

He lets the alcohol bring his real self out of hiding.  “Can’t wait for you to fuck me.”  He can pretend the flush spreading across his cheeks after saying something like this is also from the alcohol. 

“Shhhh, not so loud, be classy,” Justin says, but then he murmurs.  “Me too.  We’re going to have so much fun tonight, won’t we?”

Their driver stops suddenly and leans on the horn.  “Fucking dick,” he yells in an accent Frank can’t place.  The car is suddenly very cold.  “Hey, the street is empty, why are you driving like a fucking crackhead?”  A voice yells something back at them.  “Yeah, fuck you too!”

“Excuse me, could you close the window?”  Justin asks.  Frank’s eyes are still closed, and he giggles as he reaches between Justin’s legs to grope at him.  His gloves are still on.  He loves it here.  He fucking loves it here!  Anything can happen and things are happening.

The song is fading out, though the beat behind it continues.  “Jesus, welcome to our charming city,” Justin grumbles.  Someone on the radio starts talking over the beat.  This is 103.5 KTU, nonstop commercial-free for the next hour.  Twenty-two degrees outside and just getting colder, can you believe it, New York?  We’re bringing the party to you.  Stay indoors, stay safe, and keep the party going. This is Solomun’s remix of Late Night.

Frank peers out the window.  “We’re almost home.”  He shifts under Justin.  They’re both hard—oh God oh God—against each other.  

“Midtown East?   Kind of soulless.”

“I like it.”

“Weird.  Guess I’ll just have to fuck the soul into you.”

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Love Cuts Deep

Chapter 2- Together We Stay

Bucky Barnes x (f)reader Series Rewrite (Civil War, Infinity War/Endgame, TFATWS) 

Summary: After learning that you’re on a national watchlist from the exposure of Hydra, and seeking the only other person who’s lived a life like you have. Now you and Bucky adjust to being around one another in Romania.

Warning: big fluff, SMUT, more fluff i promised

Masterlist

5 weeks.

That’s how long it’s been since you’ve been allowed to stay with Bucky in his little one bedroom apartment in Bucharest, Romania. Fortunately for you, he’s kind enough to let you take the shit excuse for a bed while he claims the hardwood floor on the opposite side of the room, just about every single night. That’s just how its been, through true at it is, either one of you could handle sleeping on stone, but this bed is admittedly nicer, and you’ve got someplace to stay for the time being.

And Bucky.

He’s a quiet type for sure, keeps to himself, only really speaks when spoken to or when asking if you want something from the marketplace. But you’ve begun to witness first hand how he’s kind, funny in his own right, and respectful of your space and body within the time that you’ve had the chance to really know him. Which is more then most could say while you’ve been on the run in the past, from authorities and the Winter Soldier alike. 

Most days the two of you wander the various streets of this large pleasant bustling city, watching for any signs of danger or an odd person out of place as you go about your day. Other times the two of you would go hiking to the outskirts of Bucharest where no one could be of a bother, there, the two of you would spar each other for hours. Gotta keep alert, he’d always say. 

When he did speak.

But the nights when the city was sleepy with brightly beaming stars blanketing overhead, now those became your absolute favorite. You and your new found companion would spend those hours playing cards against one another, lasting deep into the wee hours of the morning when the sun was just barely rising into the sky.

Although as of late, Bucky has begun to speak more and more to you, even just yesterday when you shit talked some cheap vendor who was being very persistent as he wanted you to buy his ugly scarves, Bucky cracked a smile. Maybe even stifled a laugh. If you weren’t so invested in messing with the annoying little man, you would have seen the way Bucky’s eyes trailed adoringly over your mischievous face.

Maybe you would have seen how the corners of his eyes crinkled with amusement as you flipped the guy off and practically swaggered away like the coolest person he’s ever met. Too bad you didn’t, but you would have loved to have seen it. Even for just a moment.

That’s what it’s been like recently between the two of you, small fleeting glances here and there, friendly nudges when you’re walking out in the park, and more time spent laying side by side with one another after an excessively intense workout session. Granted you’re sprawled out in the dirt and grass, sweaty and appearing like you just ran through a dust storm, but next to Bucky, things feel pleasantly different.

It’s strange, you can’t remember the last time you’ve actually felt comfortable around anyone since your mother, but that was a very long time ago. And she’s dead, and you’re not.

Unlocking the apartment door, you quickly turn the faded golden knob and walk into the dull sunlit room. The windows are covered in thin faded newspapers for the dying sunlight to struggle through, as this appears to be the only real source of efficient lightning since all lights are currently turned off. Though you can see well enough due to your body’s enhanced vision, small perks of the serums mutation that made you.

It’s almost 7pm on this cool breezy evening as you walk into Bucky’s apartment, shutting the door just as swiftly; letting your black cotton trench coat slip gracefully from off of your shoulders, you kick your boots off next before walking over to the kitchen and setting the coat on the back of the old wooden chair.

A tired sigh escapes from your parted lips as a sudden smirk begins to break out upon your sleepy face, “James.” You muse with a genuine smile as you turn to face your mattress for a bed, and the man sitting on it, “Nice to be greeted when I come back.”

He hands you an apologetic look before swiftly rising to his feet, “Just making sure you’re paying attention.” He quips with the flash of a grin, “You passed.”

“Alright smartass I brought you a sub from that little coffee place.” His cheeks dust pink as you hand him the sandwich from out of your bag, God he loves your accent, Bucky hands you a pursed lipped grin as you wink, “Just how you like it, old wet lettuce, a chunk of rat, and a moldy bun. Your favorite.”

He lets out a breathy snort as you practically swagger over to the fridge, opening it up to grab two beers before finding yourself a chair right across from him. “Here.” He quickly accepts your thoughtfully brewed offer of friendship, “Drink up Barnes it’s a new day tomorrow and we’re still kicking.”

He watches as you laugh before popping open the glass and taking a hearty chug, a small yet joyous grin pulling at the corner of your lips after you set it down again.

“To another day.” States Bucky before doing just the same.

Soon enough the two of you find yourselves seated comfortably on opposite sides of the old mattress with cards in each of your hands. A solid look of determination and fake suspicion on either of your faces as you stare each other down.

“Got any fives?” Asks Bucky with a raised brow as you simply roll your eyes, then biting your lip while you watch as he tucks a stray tuff of dark hair behind his ear.

“Fuck you.” Slips from your mouth as he bursts with the sweet sounds of laughter, his cards fall from his hands as you throw yours at his stupidly attractive yet winning face. Dammit you could have won.

“I can’t help that you’re a sore loser Y/N, I’m just that good.” Brags Bucky as you throw him a deadly glare.

“Whatever. It’s nearly 4am I’m off my game tonight.” You retort, shrugging as a yawn approaches right on cue.

Bucky glances at the wall clock before looking back at you, an tinge of disappointment lacing his soft voice, “Right. I’ll just head over to my spot then...”

Rolling your eyes yet again, you gently slap his folded thigh before he can attempt at leaving, “Awh come on Buck, you’re back has got to be shit by now. Let me sleep there tonight okay, it’s only fair.”

“Y/N I’m fine, seriously.” Admits Bucky kindly as he shows the flash of a smile, “Don’t worry about me. I’m good.”

Your teeth press firmly against your bottom lip as you think of how to thwart his stubborn mind, soon you look down to pick up some cards, “No, we gotta take turns. And don’t say “I’m good” because if you go over there I will have no choice but to fight you.” Words wrapped in sarcasm, you lay it on him, yet your face appears to flash with something different. 

“Fight me? You’d fight me for the shitty hard wooden floor?” Asks Bucky in bewilderment as you simply nod, agreeing to your last stated truth.

“See! You even admit it’s shitty.” You exclaim with a humored laugh while shaking the cards in his beautiful face. Y/N don’t you dare think about it, stop flirting idiot.

“Well...yeah.” Mutters Bucky as you both suddenly sit in an awkward silence, nothing heard except for the wind as it rattles against the old windowpane. You both are breathing a tad more heavily from the teasing argument a couple seconds ago, but now, some unseen yet intrusively felt emotion shifts the air. Is this what you think it is, or does your underlying feelings for him just like fucking with your better intuition.

Something is afoot, however your mind still doubts it. God he can be so hard to read sometimes.

Bucky’s blue irises flicker from you, to the floor-like-bed across the room and then back to you again, conflict clear in the way that his face shifts apprehensively, suddenly he moves to stand, “Wait.” You command with urgency, causing the man to stop dead in his tracks, curious eyes on you in a second.

Letting out a nervous breath, you decide to make sure he gets some proper rest for once, “Just sleep on the goddamn bed.” You deadpan as his face keeps unusually stoic, his body as still as a statue before without so much as a warning does he swiftly lean over and immediately crash his lips to yours.

Within seconds the cards are left for tomorrows cleanup as they flutter to the hard ground, completely forgotten as he presses a metal hand onto the bed for some stability while his lips move sweetly against your own, his flesh one positioned comfortably against your left jaw and partial cheek.

The shock you feel quickly gets shoved to the back of your mind as your hands immediately begin there exploration as they sift through his long dark hair. He tastes impeccably more delicious then you could have ever even imagined, not that you fantasized about tasting the Winter Soldier or anything, though maybe it popped into your mind as a harmless curiosity. Now however, you’re pleasantly satisfied to find out by the way his soft plush lips dance across your own; it’s enough to send your heart fluttering into a thousand excited butterflies, more like an avalanche for Bucky.

All too soon does be abruptly pull away to seat himself next to you while you begrudgingly retract your hands from exploring him further. His eyes quickly find the floor in embarrassment as you smile adoringly at him, “Sorry that was...”

“Fucking hot?” You muse as his flustered face immediately snaps over to yours, hope clear in his shimmering gaze and a tad bit of puzzlement. Guess he didn’t expect his little move of bravery to produce such an apparent positive reaction.

“Uh, well...that’s uh, good..” He mumbles while rubbing the back of his neck, eyeing shifting across the bare mattress before they slowly glance up to find yours once more. This time he hands you a shy nervous smile,”...can I kiss you again?” Wonders Bucky with the sweetest puppy dog eyes you have ever seen in your entire life.

Smirking mischievously, you gently caress the side of his cheek while he happily leans into it, “Bucky Barnes....you can do a lot more then just kiss me.” And with that said does your sweet man press his lips against yours, admittedly more hungry then the first.

He kisses you with such vigor and passion this time, becoming more bolder by the second as he gently tugs at the bottom of your shirt. Smiling against him, you quickly break from his charm to give him your approval, “Shirt comes off if yours does first.” You tease as he plants a chaste kiss to your cheek, then jaw.

Rolling his eyes while continuing to plant love marks around your neck, you take that as a positive sign to reach over and hastily remove his top, he then wastes no time in carefully slipping yours off as well, taking a second longer to unclasp your bra and fling it to the side. Problems for finding later. After the introductions are had, you both immediately take a long heavy moment to trail your eyes over every curve and blemish of each other’s body. You’ve never done this with him before, never even witnessed him without a shirt on, God is he ever more divine then you could have ever even imagined.

Trailing your eyes over ever muscle and crevice in the dull shadowed lighting of the room, your heart begins to sink with sadness and anger while you study the scarring on his left shoulder, the area between where metal meets flesh. Bucky watches as you frown before he takes your left hand in his, eyes softening while he holds it gently, “They hurt you like they hurt me.” He whispers.

Your eyes quickly flicker over to see his shadowed face, and the dark hair that frames it so perfectly, “They hurt everyone.” You whisper back as he brings your wrist up to his mouth, a second later be places the softest of kisses against your weathered skin, right where your tattoo is. The one you’ve had since you were eleven, the one Hydra gave you.

“Did they do this too?” He wonders, already knowing your answer as you slowly nod in silent reply; the black inked marking shows 00X13 as it sits horizontally against your wrist from where those bastards essentially branded you.

Frowning deeply at the black ink on your wrist, you take a slow breath as Bucky watches your every move, “I’ve tried to cut it off of me a couple times long ago.....but they did this to me before the second serum altered my body so that I could heal faster. I guess my body registers it as part of the skin now, but I’ve grown to live with it. It’s a reminder of my past and survival, I cannot stay angry with the dead forever.” You mutter thoughtfully, referencing to the former doctors and scientists who did this to you, understanding that those people are all dead now or incredibly old.

Bucky bows his head, dark hair tickling your hand and wrist as he holds it close to his stubbled face, brows furrowing you wonder what internal turmoil he may be processing, soon he rises his stormy ocean of blue to find your gaze, “I hate them. All of them.” He grumbles lowly, the icy dark storm clouding over in hidden rage that flashes within his eyes.

Not wanting to darken the blessed moment a second more, you push a piece of hair out of his eyes before placing a gentle kiss against his lips, pulling away he slightly follows, “It doesn’t matter now. We’re two lonely souls together in this fucked up world and I want you to make love to me.” A small grin replaces the once bitter frown as he leans in closer.

“Then I will.” Answers Bucky, his voice as soft and velvety as the most precious flowers, he soon moves forward to gently push you on to your back, stealing another kiss along the way while he hovers over your heated body.

His form is much broader then your own as he pins your vessel to the bed, hands drag lazily through his increasingly messy hair as you slowly part your legs for him to rest his clothed nether regions against your own equally as kept queen jewels. Now he lays flush against your clothed bodies, fitting perfectly like two golden pieces of a Kings prized puzzle.

The growing friction of his hardening member against your sensitive nerves is enough to make you growl in frustration from lack of satisfying contact. Tugging his head back from your lips, you smirk as he pouts, “I’m enjoying this Buck, I really am, but our pants gotta go.” He promptly breaks out into a knowing grin.

“I was thinking the exact same thing.” Muses Bucky in agreement as he leans back to give you some space for safely kicking off your pants and undies as he fumbles with his own from the spot next to your left. Naked and shining in all your magnificent glory, you watch in amusement as he struggles to shove down his jeans before a small giggle escapes your lips when he frustratingly throws them across the floor.

Knees guarding your hidden treasure below, you smirk while resting your arms against the bed, eyes flashing in entertained contentment as they glance up at him, “I’m not going anywhere, Buck.” You quip as he shakes his head in embarrassment.

“Yeah. Well...” He’s quickly interrupted as you pull him back down against your naked form, “oh, hi.” Whispers Bucky as his face keeps mere inches from your own, pieces of black hair tickling the sides of your face.

“Hi.” You mutter back with a shy smile before raising a brow and glancing downward for a brief moment, “Care to take those off?” You ask in referral to his underwear that’s still keeping it all in, his poor manhood that looks just about ready to rip through his boxers any second now.

Glancing down as well, he quickly smiles as a dust of pink coats his stubbled cheeks, “oh, right......just a moment.” His body leaves yours once again to kneel on the mattress as he almost trips out of them, you stare on in anticipated excitement as he swiftly pulls down his undies to reveal a very hard member indeed. He was packing this whole time!

Cheeks flushing pink once more, he gives you a shy nervous grin before placing his hands on either side of your closed legs. With pleading eyes of dashing cobalt, they flash a stormy sky of hunger and lust. Bucky draws his lips closer to your knee before suddenly placing a gentle kiss against your naked skin. “Is this okay?” He asks cautiously incase you might have changed your mind about everything, still completely uncertain if this is all some cruel dream and he’s about to wake up at any moment.

Parting your legs on your own accord, you smile fondly at him, “Of course. Now come here.” You beckon with a confident nod of your head, openly inviting him to join you now in the most intimate of ways.

Heeding to your pleasing command, the super soldier hovers over your naked body once again as you part your legs even wider for his wanting hardness that just barley brushes past your inner upper thigh, so close to your entrance. You could just about melt into a puddle of goo.

Your breaths are more heavy now as you both anticipate the sweet moment to come; both flesh and metal arm fall to either side of your face as his lips ghost over yours, breath hot against your smiling face, “I haven’t done this in awhile, I’ll admit. Sorry if I don’t do grea...”

Kissing him roughly, you shut him up real quick, “It’s fine. No judgment here, I promise.” You add honestly with another sweet kiss as you feel downward for his hardened cock, finding it rather quickly he hums in surprised delight as you grasp it before leading him to your slick entrance.

Once close enough to get there on his own will, do you smirk up at him with a face more valuable then all the diamonds in the whole entire world; your hands grasp either side of his biceps, as he studies your nodding face, “I’m ready.” And with that does his tip touch your fiery skin, slowly he pushes into you with a pleasurable groan escaping from his parted lips. 

Immediately do you gasp in surprise at his fullness graciously stretching your walls, “Did I hurt you?!” Worries your new lover as you wrap your legs around his hips before sending him a confident wink and a kiss for good measure.

“Nothing can hurt me.” You confirm with another heated kiss to his lips, soon you begin grinding into him the best you can manage as he starts moving pleasantly against your core. His strong hips pushing you back into the mattress in the absolutely best way possible.

Bucky soon finds an effective pace and with that begins thrusting into you harder now as he gains more and more confidence with your wanting body of pure flame and desire; only the delicious sounds of skin on skin contact making itself present in the tiny apartment, besides your labored breaths of intense love making.

Your mind is nothing but foggy mush as he pushes himself deeper and deeper into your slick entrance with each beautifully graceful stroke of his godlike hips. Soft moans and muffled grunts continue to leave his throat as he pumps in and out of you over and over again. Ugh, you could just about die happy.

Causing you to whimper in pleasure as the tiny growing coil inside you gets tighter and tighter with every new thrust to your center walls. His hard cock twitches against your sensitive nerves as his own orgasm begins reaching its inevitable climax, he’s so fucking close.

With a couple more powerful thrusts does he finally succumb to your glorious body and cum hard inside you, his voice gravely and deeply enthralling as he moans in pleasure of the golden release. Feeling his member twitch angrily from within is enough to send you over the edge with ecstasy, causing your walls to clench instinctively against his dexterously slick cock. Fuck he feels good.

More whimpers and moans fall helplessly off of your tongue as your fingers trail pink fiery lines across his glowing skin, he’s without a doubt just as sweaty as you are by this point, and all the more beautiful.

Kissing your lips hungrily, Bucky pounds relentlessly harder into you now as the two of you silently decide to continue on for a swiftly approaching round two. In no time he has the both of you cumming even harder and messier then the first, with moans and groans of plenty reverberating off the aged old walls of his tiny apartment.

Leaving your body a shaking and sweaty mess as he thrusts a couple last pumps into you for good measure, pink swollen lips not once leaving yours until at long last does he gently pull out for the first time in what seems like hours. Though you definitely weren’t complaining, both of you have a plethora of stamina to spare, though you did wear him out.

Falling into an exhausted heap of Bucky next to you on the messy bed, his chest quickly rises and falls with heavy breaths as your does the same. For a few long moments do the two of you keep silent, just the sounds of your heavy breathing the only thing of any significance in the darkly room lit room.

After giving yourself a couple minutes to cool down, Bucky blissfully chuckles, causing you to turn your head towards his beaming face as he stares up at the ceiling, “Something funny Barnes?” You muse in that gloriously prominent accent of yours that drives him wild. He turns his sweat covered head over to you, pieces of long hair sticking to the sides of his handsomely beaming face.

“Are we dead? This feels like a dream and I’m going to wake up alone any second now.” Mutters Bucky, eyes blinking in hopes this is real and true as life itself.

Laughing, you move from your back to lay flush against his left side while watching your every move, kissing his chest you hum, “Well, you’d have a real mess in the morning.”

Bucky immediately scrunches his nose up in slight disgust as you sling an arm over his bare chest, “Thank you for that image Y/N.” He retorts with a short burst of air leaving from his nostrils, indicating he did indeed find it rather amusing.

Kissing his cheek you shrug, “It’s not like your load isn’t still....in places, it’s sex Buck. It’s messy and beautiful and I’m glad I could do this with you. Seriously, I thought we’d never get here.”

Bucky’s face appears rather thoughtful for a long moment before he finally speaks, “I didn’t think you liked me like that.”

“What!?” You exclaim in bewilderment, causing him to snicker as you continue with your explanation, “Was I not obvious enough with the stolen glances and whatever else I could get away with? I was trying actually if you wanted to know....in my own way, but still.”

“I did try to kill you once.” Confirms Bucky as you lay comfortably against his metal arm, head resting on his upper chest while his eyes flicker back up to the ceiling.

Scoffing, you flick a piece of his hair, “I didn’t take it personally.”

Thinking for a moment, he finally looks down at you, “I’m glad you didn’t. And I’m glad that you found me.” Whispers your lover as he reveals the most dashing smile you’ve ever seen, while his flesh arm gently caresses down your shoulder in a blissfully comforting manner.

“Me too.” You add, pressing another soft kiss to his lips as you trail a finger down his side, “Now let’s take a shower......and probably change the sheets.”

“We don’t have sheets.”

——

An annoying ray of golden sunlight shines brightly in your closed eyelids from a small tear in the middle of the window newspaper, as your senses slowly come back to the world. You squint before taking a deep breath and shifting your gaze to make a full circle of the room, since you do happen to be facing away from the wall.

Your eyes trail over to Bucky’s usual spot only to reveal absolutely nothing, your heart suddenly jumps in your chest as the pleasurable memories of last night come flooding into your head once again, and some of the leftover smells, you can thank those fucking scientist for that. 

That’s right, you think, you slept with Bucky, and he’s literally snoozing away right behind you.

Smiling into the morning sun, you quietly sit up before turning your head to look down at Bucky, his hair is an absolute adorable mess as it lays across his face in various dark strands. He’s currently shirtless with the exception of some sweatpants and the thin blanket he owns that’s positioned across his torso.

You’re clothed as well, deciding it best to be dressed and comfy after the heated shower session you two shared; oh to be back in that moment for another minute longer, how nice that would be.

Slipping away from your daydreaming of Bucky, your heart skips a beat as he stirs, soon enough does his beautiful blues open up to the world. Finding your adoring gaze, he rests a hand on your folded leg, “Mornin’ Y/N.” Mutters Bucky in that raspy early morning voice of his, the actual greeting sounding more like a toddler learning to speak for the fist time then anything truly coherent. Or like a drunken man.

Rubbing a hand through his dark locks, you smile lovingly down at his stubbly morning face as he closes his eyes yet again, showing pure bliss while your fingers run through his scalp. “Touch starved much?” You quip as he opens his eyes and yawns like that of a sleepy old bear, metal arm flashing a quick stray beam of light when he shifts.

“Maybe.” Teases Bucky as he silently beckons for you to lay down with him, heeding to this hopeful inquisition, you scoot yourself onto your side and graciously welcome as his flesh arm reaches over your torso to pull you in closer.

Noses mere inches from one another, you raise a brow as he stares lovingly into your eyes, “Cozy?”

Gently kissing your lips in reply, he pulls back to reveal a positive lazy grin, “I think so.” Jests Bucky as he pushes you onto your back so that he can sling an arm over your rib cage, essentially pinning you to the bed with no real intention of letting you go any time soon.

The both of you stay like that for a good couple of minutes, just enjoying each other’s company in the late morning sun before he finally decides to speak, “Was last night....uh, good?” Wonders Bucky in nervous apprehension as his head rests comfortably against yours.

Giving him a light peck, you grin, “The best I’ve ever had.” And you mean every single word.

He gently squeezes your side in reply before muttering, “You were great too.”

Lightly chuckling, your eyes squint as you smile brightly at him, “Well that’s good to know. Glad I hadn’t lost my incredible seduction skills.”

“Yeah, I was thoroughly seduced.” Quips Bucky as you snicker.

-

Tagged: @minigranger @bibliophilewednesday @holyhumorliteraturelight @diegos-butt​

[theartofdreaming1]

As usual, my thoughts regarding this week’s prompts and random thoughts on chapters 25-27 are below the cut.

heart

The imagery that really caught my attention this time was Peeta pointing out the changes in the moon to Katniss: The only indication of the passage of time lies in the heavens, the subtle shift of the moon. So Peeta begins pointing it out to me, insisting I acknowledge its progress and sometimes, for just a moment I feel a flicker of hope before the agony of the night engulfs me again. - So for one, we see another example of Peeta focusing on the small details in life (which I’ve previously hypothesized to being an important element in his recovery from his hijacking) as well as Peeta being the one to give Katniss hope, even if it’s just for a brief moment. Also, it’s a nice parallel to Katniss looking at the moon and desperately wishing for it to be “her moon” back in chapter 23. As a nocturnal person, I also love watching the moon from my living room window🌙

mind

Hmmh, I don’t think that Katniss and Peeta’s win was predetermined - although I do believe that by introducing the romantic angle, they significantly improved their odds. A Career winning the Games is not really that special and exciting, since it happens so often (although Careers generally satisfy that excitement for violence/blood/gore, that plenty of Capitol people seem to share). As a volunteer from District 12, who achieved an extremely good training score and proved herself to be very capable in the arena already, Katniss definitely had an edge by playing into the classic underdog story, which offered another exciting “narrative” for the Capitolites to follow - that, coupled (heh) with the romance angle Peeta introduced? Katniss (and Peeta) definitely had the entertainment (and excitement through novelty) factor on their side. Ironically, Cato’s chances of winning were not as good as he expected, precisely because he was playing it by the book.

soul

Poor Peeta (and Katniss), it hurts that their relationship was in such a rocky place by the end of the book. Especially those weeks right after the end of Book 1, when there were still cameras around District 12 and they had to pretend while hurting must have sucked big time🥺

Chapter 25

Ugh, the muttations are just so unsettling... *shudder*

Honestly, I’m just so impressed by Peeta’s presence of mind to draw that X on Cato’s hand, after he had just most of his calf ripped off, only to be grabbed and put in a headlock by Cato! He and Katniss work insanely well under pressure

God, Cato’s death is just so gruesome and awful... In the end, his “gift” from the Feast doesn’t help him win at all, but instead ends up prolonging his suffering a cruel amount... I wonder if in general these “gifts” come with a string attached (aside from the expected danger of trying to get them, I mean) - because the Gamemakers also intend for Katniss’s “gift” (medicine for Peeta) to force an even more cruel outcome on her - saving him from blood poisoning only to be forced into killing him herself... 🤔

I’m not sure if this is exactly medical protocol, but I’m terrified that if he drifts off he’ll never wake again. “Are you cold?” he asks. He unzips his jacket and I press against him as he fastens it around me. - Katniss is terrified of the idea of Peeta dying; at the same time, Peeta worries about her freezing - I can’t with these two 😩

Peeta begins to doze off now, and each time he does, I find myself yelling his name louder and louder because if he goes and dies on me now, I know I’ll go completely insane. He’s fighting it, probably more for me than for him - Katniss can’t lose any more people she cares about 😢; on a different note, Peeta fighting his unconsciousness “probably more for [Katniss] than for him” points out one of the crucial elements Katniss brings into Peeta’s life - she is that someone for whom he will fight - including for his own life and well-being - even when it feels easier to give up... Having that person in your life that keeps you going can make all the difference - if Katniss hadn’t had Prim and promised her “to really, really try” to win (and later also made Rue the same promise), I’m not sure she would have made it this far; it’s the thought of Prim anxiously watching her after Rue’s death, that forces Katniss to keep going, to not give in to despair after that particular traumatic event - Peeta, on the other hand, didn’t really have that kind of person in his life, as he will point out on the beach in CF (and Katniss acknowledges herself that the only person who will be devasted if Peeta dies is her)... that is not to say that neither Katniss nor Peeta aren’t fighters on their own - but it helps to have someone that inspires you to not give up

the adrenaline pumping through my body would never allow me to follow him, so I can’t let him go. I just can’t. - We’ll see the mirrored version of this by the end of Mockinjay 

Pity, not vengeance, sends my arrow flying into [Cato’s] skull. - Another act of rebellion, technically (sure, this can be spun as Katniss killing Cato so she and Peeta may win - before Peeta dies from blood loss - but we know better - Katniss’s motivation was compassion for her supposed enemy)

We inch down to the tail of the horn and fall to the ground. If the stiffness in my limbs is this bad, how can Peeta even move? - Peeta is tough as nails, yo!

Before I am even aware of my actions, my bow is loaded with the arrow pointed straight at his heart [...] I drop my weapons and take a step back, my face burning in what can only be shame. “No,” he says. “Do it.” [...] “I can’t,” I say, “I won’t.” - In spite of her initial reflex, Katniss chooses Peeta/ chooses not to kill him; it’s a recurring theme in their relationship (despite her wariness of others, she chooses to open up to Peeta eventually; although she vowed to never marry and have children, she’ll choose to have a family with Peeta); also, my psychology-brain just noticed how this moment illustrates how harmful thoughts/impulses don’t have to determine your actions and are not an indicator of who you are - it’s about what you choose to do

“You’re not leaving me here alone,” I say. Because if he dies, I’ll never go home, not really. I’ll spend the rest of my life in this areny trying to think my way out. - Again, makes me think of MJ; also, I think that from this point onwards, Katniss and Peeta are officially linked together forever; the bond they forged during this traumatic experience will connect them to each other until the day they die

“On the count of three?” Peeta leans down and kisses me once, very gently. “The count of three,” he says. - My heart😭

Chapter 26

... while our muscles are immobile, nothing is preventing the blood from draining out of Peeta’s leg. Sure enough, the minute the door closes behind us and the current stops, he slumps to the floor unconscious  [...] Through the glass, I see the doctors working feverishly on Peeta, their brows creased in concentration [...] I’m not sure, but I think his heart stops twice. - Peeta was in such a bad shape by the end of the Games; I’m still kinda salty that the movie really glossed over this fact :/

... they’re taking Peeta but leaving me behind the door. I start hurling myself against the glass, shrieking and I think I just catch a glimpse of pink hair - it must be Effie, it has to be Effie coming to my rescue - when the needle jabs me from behind. - Oh geez, in Catching Fire Katniss will also get sedated in a hovercraft because she’s upset about being separated from Peeta 😢 (also, Katniss thinking that Effie is coming to her rescue 😭)

While she [Lavinia, the avox] adjusts my pillows, I risk one question. I say it out loud, as clearly as my rusty voice will allow, so nothing will seem secretive. “Did Peeta make it?” She gives me a nod, and as she slips a spoon into my hand, I feel the pressure of friendship. - Katniss is so considerate of Lavinia’s situation, and Lavinia’s giving her a gesture of comfort and support; they’ve never been able to have a proper conversation (Katniss doesn’t even know Lavinia’s name), but still they managed to build up such a bond - compassion certainly is a strong thing to behold 😭 (and this whole scene is just through and through about compassion, with Katniss asking how Peeta is doing!)

Home! Prim and my mother! Gale! Even the thought of Prim’s scruffy old cat makes me smile. Soon I will be home! - Katniss is so excited to see her home and her loved ones again

I want to get out of this bed. To see Peeta and Cinna - Aww, the two people she grew closest to over the course of the past weeks (Haymitch will be added to that list in just a smidge)

Or do I hear a man’s voice yelling? Not in the Capitol accent, but in the rougher cadences of home. And I can’t help having a vague, comforting feeling that someone is looking out for me. - Thank God for Haymitch! 

And behind one of them [doors] must be Peeta. Now that I’m conscious and moving, I’m growing more and more anxious about him [...] “Peeta!” I call out, since there’s no one to ask - Katniss is sick with worry over Peeta; romantic feelings or not, she cares so fricking much for him by now!

I run for them [Effie, Haymitch, and Cinna] and surprise even myself when I launch into Haymitch’s arms first. When he whispers in my ear, “Nice job, sweetheart,” it doesn’t sound sarcastic. - These reunion scenes are so intense and heartwarming! And then Katniss asks about Portia and Peeta because their presence would make this scene complete 

when I asks for seconds, I’m refused. “No, no, no. They don’t want it all coming back up on the stage,” says Octavia, but she secretly slips me an extra roll under the table to let me know she’s on my side - It’s moments like these that help humanize Katniss’s prep team - they might be shallow, they might be completely oblivious and ignorant, but they aren’t that bad [of course, the prep team chattering about their mundane lives while talking about the event that ended with the deaths of 22 children shortly after, leaves a bad taste in our mouths]

I immediately notice the padding over my breasts, adding curves that hunger has stolen from my body. My hands go to my chest and I frown. “I know,” says Cinna before I can object. “But the Gamemakers wanted to alter you surgically. Haymitch had a huge fight with them over it. This was the compromise.” - God, the idea that the Gamemakers wanted to give a boob job to an unconscious, malnourished 16-year-old girl makes me sick 🤢 (Also, what’s the flipping deal about boobs?! As a pretty flat-chested gal, I’ve always been annoyed that there are barely any bras my cup size that are not push-up ones; I’m not self-conscious about it, so stop making me pretend that I’m bustier than I actually am!)

“I thought it’d be something more... sophisticated-looking,” I say. “I thought Peeta would like this better,” he [Cinna] answers carefully. Peeta? No, it’s not about Peeta. It’s about the Capitol and the Gamemakers and the audience. Although I do not yet understand Cinna’s design, it’s a reminder the Games are not quite finished. - Ugh, that sinking feeling when Katniss and the reader realize that the Games are still not over... Sidenote: Peeta flirted up a storm with grimy, bloodied Katniss and complimented her when she wore Cinna’s first, absolutely badass costume (”You should wear flames more often”)... Katniss’s girlish outfit  has nothing to do with Peeta and she knows it... Cinna could have dressed Katniss up in a trash bag and Peeta would have been smitten - although a trash bag by Cinna would probably still look pretty good ;)

“How about a hug for luck?” Okay, that’s an odd request from Haymitch but, after all we are victors. Maybe a hug for luck is in order. - Aww, Katniss actually wouldn’t have minded giving Haymitch a hug just because - sadly, this is about survival tips instead :/

But what was it Haymitch said when I asked it he had told Peeta the situation? That he had to pretend to be desperately in love? “Don’t have to. He’s already there.” Already thinking ahead of me in the Games again and well aware of the danger we’re in? Or... already desperately in love? I don’t know. I haven’t even begun to separate out my feelings about Peeta. It’s too complicated. - Poor Katniss... she didn’t have the time and peace of mind to sort out her feelings regarding Peeta before they all got tied up and muddled with her need for survival. Now she’ll be having an even harder time trying to untangle that mess :(

Chapter 27

Then there’s Peeta just a few yards away. He looks so clean and healthy and beautiful, I can hardly recognize him. But his smile is the same whether in mud or in the Capitol and when I see it, I take about three steps and fling myself into his arms [...] He rights himself and we just cling to each other while the audience goes insane. He’s kissing me and all the time I’m thinking, Do you know? Do you know how much danger we’re in? After about ten minutes of this, Caesar Flickerman taps on his choulder to continue the show, and Peeta just pushes him aside without even glancing at him. - Man, their reunion here always gets me - it would be so fricking good if Katniss didn’t have to worry about their potential doom 😒😔 - she barely has time to just be happy to see Peeta alive and well before slipping back into survival mode while Peeta is just genuinely thrilled to have her in his arms, completely unaware of the pressure and immediate danger Katniss experiences in this moment... It hurts so bad

I’m with Katniss - How did the previous victors endure rewatching those horrible moments from the Games?! I guess because they had to, but oof... I think I’d just completely shut down, blocking out the footage shown, ugh

But I do notice they omit the part where I covered her [Rue] in flowers. Right. Because even that smacks of rebellion. - In such a callous and cruel place as Panem, any act of compassion can be regarded as rebellion, it’s crazy. In a place filled with apathy, hedonism, greed, and cruelty, the most radical things you can exhibit are love, kindness, and respect!

A wave of gratitude to the filmmakers sweeps over me when they end not with the announcement of our victory, but with me pounding on the glass door of the hovercraft, screaming Peeta’s name as they try to revive him. In terms of survival, it’s my best moment all night. - Again, another instance where Katniss’s genuine feelings/reactions to Peeta are get muddled with her need for survival

The one thing I never do is let go of Peeta’s hand. - irrevocably linked with each other

Despite Haymitch’s running interference, I’m determined to see Peeta privately. - Katniss just wants to have an honest and open talk with Peeta 😢 (I get where Haymitch is coming from, and maybe in this instance it’s the right call, but we’ll see a similar situation in the beginning of CF when Haymitch advises Katniss not to tell Peeta about President Snow’s visit and that time, it doesn’t go so well...)

Then Peeta’s there looking handsome in red and white - for someone who isn’t sure whether she’s into him or not, Katniss sure mentions how good Peeta’s looking a lot 😏

“Well, there’s just this and we go home. Then he can’t watch us all the time,” says Peeta. - 👀👀 Peeta is so thirsty here; reminds me of when he pulled Katniss close to him in the cave before they set out to hunt... He clearly believes she’s also “already there” regarding their relationship; he’s never this “suggestive” (can’t think of a better word right now) with her once she lets him know that she doesn’t really know how she feels about him - I feel a sort of shiver run through me and there’s no time to analyze why - Katniss totally isn’t averse to what Peeta’s suggesting here, either (though there’s probably also a healthy amount of fear mixed in with the thrill of being wanted - letting people in can be terrifying)

I can feel Peeta press his forehead into my temple and he asks, “So now that you’ve got me, what are you going to do with me?” I turn in to him. “Put you somewhere you can’t get hurt.” And when he kisses me, people in the room actually sigh. - It’s me; I’m people 🙋🏼‍♀️ (also, the “turn in to him”?!?!! it just suggests such a closeness, I can’t-)

Katniss burying her face in Peeta’s shirt when she’s afraid she might cry learning that he lost his leg 🥺 (how awful it must be to be constantly on display while you’re dealing with your private feelings, ugh)

“... The moment when you pulled out those berries. What was going on in your mind... hm?” [...] It seems to call for a big, dramatic speech, but all I get out is one almost inaudible sentences. “I don’t know, I just... couldn’t bear the thought of... being without him.” - It might not be a super eloquent way to put what she was supposed to say, but this way, Katniss is being perfectly honest (and frankly, if she’d had the chance to properly process her feelings, she would have been able to voice this sentiment with less hesitation)

I go back to my room to collect a few things and find there’s nothing to take but the mockingjay pin Madge gave me. Someone returned it to my room after the Games. - For one, Katniss didn’t think of that pin (again), but also - was the pin returned to her simply because it’s standard procedure or did someone (like Plutarch, for example) arrange for Katniss to get the pin back, to keep her connection to this symbol going?

I stare in the mirror as I try to remember who I am and who I am not. - Poor Katniss! She’s been through so much, experienced so many traumatic events in short succession recently (aside from the trauma she already had), already had problems defining her identity beyond sheer survival, and now the Capitol also keeps pushing an identity onto her and a romantic relationship, when she hadn’t even had the chance to figure out how she felt about that yet

“... Haymitch has been coaching me through the last few days. So I didn’t make it worse,” I say. “Coaching you? But not me,” says Peeta. “He knew you were smart enough to get it right,” I say. “I didn’t know there was anything to get right,” says Peeta. - Oh boy. It’s always so painful to see Peeta realize that he’s been completely out of the loop; again, we’ll see how Katniss and Haymitch adopt a similar strategy in the beginning of CF: banking on Peeta’s good social skills and eloquence and keeping him in the dark. In a way, it’s a sort of compliment they pay to Peeta for being good with people, but, by not telling him, they are also using him for their purpose (which is motivated by caring for and wanting to protect Peeta, but still). Peeta is right to be upset about it - he has always been very clear about not wanting to be used as a piece in anyone’s games, really. And, as we will see later in CF, they are way more effective as a team when they are open and honest with each other.

“It was all for the Games,” Peeta says. “How you acted.” “Not all of it,” I say, tightly holding on to my flowers. “Then how much? No, forget that. I guess the real question is what’s going to be left when we get home?” he says. “I don’t know. The closer we get to District Twelve, the more confused I get,” I say. He waits, for further explanation, but none’s forthcoming. “Well, let me know when you work it out,” he says, and the pain in his voice is palpable. - It’s just so goddamn painful😢 They’ve both been done so dirty by that forced star-crossed lovers of Distrct 12 routine. (Sidenote: I appreciate that Peeta actually gives Katniss the chance to explain herself here - still, it’s too much to deal with on the spot so I can understand why Katniss ended up dropping the ball, even though it’s frustrating to read.)

That it’s not good loving me because I’m never going to get married anyway and he’d just end up hating me later instead of sooner. That if I do have feelings for him, it doesn’t matter because I’ll never be able to afford the kind of love that leads to a family, to children. And how can he? How can he after what we’ve just been through? - Oh Katniss, you certainly are skipping a couple of steps here; I’m pretty sure there are some options in between dating and being married with kids you could look into. Also, she’s just assuming that this is what Peeta wants, but she doesn’t know that at all - As someone who also has this stupid habit of imagining how whole conversations could possibly transpire and then resigning myself to the hypothetical outcome of said imagined conversation instead of actually having them: Don’t do that. ‘Never assume - it makes an ASS out of U and ME.’ 

I see Peeta extend his hand. I look at him, unsure. “One more time? For the audience?” he says. His voice isn’ t angry. It’s hollow, which is worse. Already the boy with the bread is slipping away from me. I take his hand, holding it tightly, preparing for the cameras, and dreading the moment when I will finally have to let go. - Ma babies! They are both so hurt and both just want to be with each other 😭 But they’ll need some time apart, to figure things out before they can do that.

[stylezxsilvermoon]

berryhill (chapter one)

A/N; their ages start VERY young in the story, it's starts off in elementary school, it will slowly progress throughout the story

tag(s) 9yo! Harry, 9yo!Louis, elementary!AU, Larry!AU

Harry and Louis are relatively the same age in this fanfiction hope you enjoy :)

Louis

The first day of grade 3, a fresh new start, the first 2 years went well, I hope this year follows that pattern.

I walked into the designated classroom, and I am greeted with students congregating around the entrance, a tall, blonde-haired woman I see as I look above, that must be the teacher.

I look over to Niall gazing at all the fresh-faced students. "You excited Ni? I heard Mrs. Valery is nice, hopefully she lets us fool around and play footie yeah?"

"I agree Lou, grade three is already so exciting, best year yet!"

Niall and I fist bump as new students pile into the room, one boy seeming to glow from the crowd. "Who's he?" I ask

"Dunno, big shot from out of town I suppose. " 

"He's- interesting." I stutter over my words, I squint my face at my mistake, where did that come from?

The golden boy, as I makeshift nickname him sees my eyes wander in his direction as his brown curls pop up from the crowd.

" 'Ello 'm harry." His accent thick in his words, who is this guy?

" 'Ello, haven't seen you around before, y'new?" I ask as he nods to me, moving his curls to frame his face, as my mouth forms in the shape of an 'O' at his simple gesture.

"That I am, just moved a couple days ago, so far Headtha Valley seems like a nice town."  Harry says quietly as I look down to my hands.

"I agree, my name is Louis, nice to meet you, Harry." I wave to him as he waves back, he seems awfully quiet, I think.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

"Good morning kids! Today we're going to start a get to know you game, turn to someone you don't know and start a conversation, begin." The teacher says as each of us quickly find someone to turn to, signaling me to find someone to begin conversation with as well

I quickly turn to Harry since we haven't officially got to know each other, I ponder at his features his pink lips contradict his green eyes, strange. I find my mind enticed by them as I can't find the will to turn away, I'm captivated by him, I wonder why, all of a sudden.

"So, Harry, what's your favorite sport?" I ask

"I like to play footie." He replies

"Well Harry, I love footie! If you love footie as much as I do, we'll get along real well."

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Lunch rolls around and I already see Harry getting popular with the "cool kids" meanwhile I, watch the drama unfold from a safe distance.

"Kids today, stealing each other's hairbrushes." I say sipping on my juice box 

"Louis, we're kids too ya know." Niall says

"I know, they're just different, especially Harry, not in a bad way, just different." I replied, what is it about today, I've had more questions in the last minute then I've ever had in my whole life!

"Well maybe you'll be able to figure it out tommo, you can't learn anything staring at them being bonkers." Zayn suggested 

"Hey Harry! Play footie with us at recess?!" I shouted, he turned around instantly and walked towards us.

"Sure, although I'm proper rubbish at it." Harry laughed 

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

So far Harry's skills are proving absolutely phenomenal, it's Harry and Liam against me and Niall, it's a tight game.

I look over to my left to see Zayn doodling on his sketch pad, typical.

I try to focus on avoiding Harry's long legs from the goal and avoiding Liam's focus on the ball to try to score a goal.

C'mon Louis get your head in the game 

"Oi! Harry put those long legs to good use!" I shouted before I scored the winning goal.

"Victory!" I screamed 

☆☆☆☆☆☆

"Hey Lou, you played really well, although you technically cheated." Harry said 

"Cheated? Alls fair in love and war." I winked

"Wait- what?" Harry laughed 

"You lost, I won, simple as that." I sassed 

"I'll have to play you again sometime to break your winning streak." Harry said 

"Sure, Harry... meet here next recess?"

"Sure Louis, you know you and me, we could be great friends?"

"I agree, friend."

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Harry

I never would have thought today I'd find a boy like Louis, and find my way around the school, but as simple as that, it happened.

I don't know why, but from the beginning, I felt this strong bond between Louis and I, like we were met to be friends, even if this is only the first day of grade 3, as long as Louis is here, I'll be alright.

As my thoughts circled around my head, I realized this was silent reading time, silly brain, read, not think about Louis.

I looked across from me to see Louis cross-eyed smiling, I had to stifle a giggle to keep it from erupting loudly.

"Lou, you're gonna make me laugh!" I hushed

"That's the point, H." Louis retorted 

Today really is great for me, I made a new friend, and I'm having one of the best days of my life, what a day, I never want it to end.

☆☆☆☆☆☆

Louis

As predicted, the end of the school day had ended, but I feel like, me and Harry, had just begun, it's a strange feeling.

As I helped Niall put on his puffy coat, I thought about the bond that I simply formed with one curly haired boy, that easily! I hope it stays this way forever.

I slipped on my backpack after zipping my coat as I looked over to Harry, being chased by a squirrel, by the looks of it, he looks very afraid, poor squirrel.

"AHHHH!" Harry screamed as the squirrel chased him faster than his long legs could run. 

"Get away little squirrel! Back to your friends! Harry's mine!" I shouted as the squirrel scurried away

"Thanks Lou." Harry breathed relieved and gripped onto my shoulder

"No problem, H, you're really afraid of squirrels huh?" I teased

"It was going to touch me, Lou! It was out for blood!" Harry exclaimed 

"That squirrel looked like it was having the time of its life." I smirked 

"Well, I- whatever." Harry laughed 

I looked to my left to see Zayn pointing at something, two squirrels seemingly about to start a fight.

"Look they're gonna have sexy time!" Zayn shouted 

"Now now, Zayn, let's not get carried away here." Mrs. Valery said 

After a few moments the bus came, signaling it was time to go home, Harry and I boarded different buses home, as I went to board the bus he halted me.

"Wait! Lou!" Harry said tackling me in a hug

"I promise I'll be back tomorrow H, promise."

"Pinky promise?" Harry asked

I linked my pinky with his before I smiled and said, "Promise."

[reddiamondgamer]

A Wrightworth Fic

(First proper Wrightworth fic that won't be just a one off drabble!)

A03 Next

_________________

If Phoenix had known getting hit by a car would speed up the reunion he'd been planning for months, he would've done it sooner. He was lucky that he hadn’t actually been hurt all that badly, only suffering a few scrapes and bruises, but it was enough to worry both his friends, Larry and Miles, who he’d been keeping in contact with ever since he left and finally met again.

Larry still somehow looked the same as he remembered, with the exception of the currently scraggly beard thing growing from his chin. His hair still resembled an angry cockatoo, his eyes still somehow glowed with the same happiness they always had, and his voice was still mildly shrieky when he got excited. Phoenix supposed it was good that no matter what happened in the world, Larry was still Larry, it was like a universal constant.

Miles, on the other hand, was most definitely not the same as he remembered. Yes, he still seemed to struggle a lot with emotions and was irritated by certain things the same way he was, but he’d grown, a lot more than he was expecting. He was dressed in a flashy mauve suit with a weird neck ruffle and a blue and gold waistcoat thing, if he remembered correctly. He wasn’t sure of any of the proper names of any of the fancy things Miles wore now, but he was sure that he’d become really really attractive, having to remind himself that he had a girlfriend.

“I don’t think he’s all here right now, man.” Larry spoke, pulling Phoenix out of his thoughts and startling him slightly. Right, Larry and Miles had been trying to make sure he didn’t have a concussion after getting hit.

“Uh, what were you guys saying?” Phoenix asked with a sheepish smile, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“We were saying, Wright, that we should take you to the hospital to make sure you have not lost your mind completely. Now, tell me if you are capable of remembering the basics, such as your name.” Miles explained and whoa, did he have a bit of an accent now? He must’ve picked it up while they were apart, noting that it definitely sounded like it was from Europe or something.

“You shouldn’t really tell someone their name then ask if they remember their name.” Phoenix argued, letting out a small laugh.

Miles’s eyes suddenly had a confident glint to them as he waggled his finger, winked, then blew out air, something clearly clicking in his mind. His actions shocked Phoenix and his cheeks felt slightly warmer for some reason, having never expected to see Miles do that.

“Ah, but I didn’t mention your first name, Wright, my request is still valid.”

“Phoenix, my name is Phoenix Wright and you, Miles Edgeworth, have too much confidence over something so technical.” He responded with what was meant to be a sigh, but turned into a laugh as he got up off the ground where he’d been sitting the whole time. He felt a slight dampness over the back of his pants thanks to the dewy grass, finally taking in his surroundings properly.

He was in a small field beside a busy road, right next to his college. There was a bit of trash crushed over the curb and a small dandelion blooming out of a broken cup, making him smile a bit. He took a picture of the sight so he’d remember to draw something similar later.

“Nicky’s back up and running! Now we can continue our fun day with Edgy!” Larry announced, his slight shriek to his voice making him and Miles both cringe.

“I must ask that you refrain from referring to me as “Edgy”, I have an actual name as you should know.”

“He’s got a point, Larry,” Phoenix started, watching as Larry’s face fell before continuing with, “let’s just have an awesome day with Miley.”

Larry’s face lit up once again while Miles made an expression that was somewhere between disgusted and shocked, bringing out a laugh from Phoenix. He grabbed Miles's hand, not noticing the faint blush that spread over Miles’s cheeks after or the way a golden string glowed around their joined hands as he led Miles to the place they’d decided to go first.

“What happened to the person that hit me? I didn’t see them or the car when I woke up.”

“I have,” Miles paused for some reason, like he was trying to figure something out in his head, “an acquaintance that is a detective, he is adequate at coming to my aid.”

"You've got a detective friend that's good at helping you out?" Phoenix held back his laughter, knowing Miles didn't like admitting some things so easily.

He watched as Miles grumbled and looked away, finally letting out a snort while Larry cackled. He felt a smile stretch across his face, his friends always making him feel like the world was perfect. He couldn’t think of a better way to spend his day, giving Miles’s hand a firm squeeze.

The walk to the arcade wasn’t very long, but it definitely had Larry breathless and ready to abandon the whole trip even though it’d been his idea. The cockatoo-haired man was dramatically laying on the concrete in front of the arcade building, which was called Patrick Cipant’s Arcade. Taking a closer look at the papers hung on the door, Phoenix could see that the arcade was hiring extra help for an upcoming gaming event that he knew he’d never understand, remembering that Larry, despite how he acted, was better with technology than him.

“Go on without me, I can’t make it!” Larry whined, his face red and shiny somehow. It wasn’t even that hot today since it was the middle of spring, there was even still a slight wind chill.

“Butz-” Miles started, but was interrupted by the snickering of a few passing children.

“Larry, get up, you’re literally five feet from the entrance.” Phoenix pointed at the door with an unamused expression.

Miles looked annoyed, but Phoenix could tell he wasn’t completely annoyed, noticing a small sparkle of amusement in his eyes, which Phoenix noted he had a marker in the exact same pretty shade of grey.

Phoenix froze when he realized he’d basically just called Mile’s pretty, shaking his head to get rid of that thought. He knew it wasn’t normal to think of a friend like that and he had a girlfriend that he thought was beautiful.

Apparently, Miles had noticed how he froze, feeling him pull his hand out of his grip and move it to his shoulder with a small squeeze following.

“Wright, are you also dreadfully exhausted and lacking any energy just like Butz here?”

“Uh, no, just had a really stupid train of thought, don’t worry about it.”

Phoenix looked at Miles then quickly tore his eyes away, wanting to just get rid of any and all thoughts about his best friend. He pushed Mile’s hand off his shoulder and headed inside the arcade, thinking he could distract himself by playing that new zombie VR game Larry had been raving about. He mentally swore that he wouldn’t let anything else come up from these weird thoughts and feelings, happy with where he was now in life.

Next

[myth-carver]

Brief thoughts on c3e1 and the new folks........

Overall: Eh, it was okay. CR has a winning formula with their style of actual play, they're almost always a joy to watch onscreen and that was no different last night, but I came away feeling more like I was watching a oneshot or another ep of ExU rather than the new Critical Role campaign proper. Not super into the new cast and very disappointed that literally half the table is reused people we've seen before -- I enjoyed ExU's cast but that was sold as a separate thing and seeing them here is jarring, especially absent the rest of the Crown Keepers. Between reused characters, all the new permanent changes to the format, not even being 100% certain who in this cast is going to stay or later go at this point... It just kinda feels weird :/ But I'm excited for the Marquet setting and it took me a really long time to warm up to the c2 cast too, and it's early days yet. So I'm willing to have my mind changed, and fortunately for me, I'm more a fan of the cast themselves than any particular characters they've played anyhow. Taking a wait and see approach overall.

Imogen: She seems sweet, I love her character design, I'm very partial to purple hair lmao. Other than that I don't find her that interesting so far but Laura is a good RPer so she'll probably be fun to watch. Maybe she'll be able to join Orym in stewarding the group's brain cell lol.

Laudna: Marisha's doing an accent??????? She sounds amazing and I love the performance. Laudna certainly has a lot of intriguing stuff going on, I enjoy a character with mysteries to dig into. She doesn't inspire me fannishly but I'll look forward to finding out what her deal is. I'm ngl I'm super disappointed that all three of our girls this time are really femme though.

Ashton: Kintsugi earth genasi is an absolutely inspired concept that I hope Taliesin patted himself on the back for a lot because he Earned It. That said, aggressive punk with anger/authority issues is a trope I find super super annoying and he's already rubbing me the wrong way constantly :/ I hate that I'm just not into the only human-adjacent nonbinary character on the main cast, it really sucks. It's also driving me crazy how much the colors of his costume intensely do not match his green and purple and gold body even slightly lmao, it's really unpleasant to look at.

FCG: This is now an FCG hate blog, lol not really but holy shit I hate this character so much, Mr. Riegel I'm literally already tired of your joke character after less than 1 episode idk how I'm going to endure a whole campaign of them. Liam why would you do this to us 😩 a lot of people seem to love them a lot so lmao I'm anticipating for me this is going to be a Caduceus situation where my resentment of the character increases due to never being able to get away from posts about him. I don't want any more robots on my fantasy show, if I wanted robots I'd go watch an actual play of a sci-fi tabletop game instead...

Orym: Best boy from ExU returns, which is cool since I super wanted to know more about him in ExU, but wow does it suck they decided to actively make ExU a worse show by not going into half the cast's backgrounds and leaving it literally an incomplete story to accommodate bringing these cast members into c3. If that was the whole purpose of ExU why not just announce that instead of being coy like this??? The way ExU ended left a really bad taste in my mouth and honestly dampened my interest in seeing more of these characters. That said though, my love for Orym at least somewhat remains and Liam is usually the cast member whose character taste matches my own the most, I look forward to seeing where he takes Orym in the future. Also, if our speculation about his OOC origins during ExU turn out correct, cool to have the first gay male character on the main cast.

Dorian: Other best boy from ExU and a surprise appearance by Robbie! All three of the ExU folks I thought meshed with the CR style amazingly and it's fun to get to see him again. Very curious what dirt FCG apparently seems to have on him. And I wonder when we finally get to learn his real name... 👀

Fearne: I overall don't like Ashley's RP, which I know is ironic because I love Yasha so much lmao. But I feel like Fearne is, of everyone Ashley's played on stream, the character that seems to most match with her personal style and comes most naturally to her, it's fun to see her RP with such confidence. She's really good at invoking the fey vibe, both the sweetness and comedy and the undertone of menace. That said, Fearne's general behavior hammers my secondhand embarrassment squick absolutely like crazy lmao and it's going to be rough to have to watch that for an extended period, I find her frequently almost painful to watch tbh. I'm excited that a fey in the main cast means we'll be seeing Feywild stuff though!!! Maybe even my eladrin warlock's old patron Lady Elmenore 👀

Bertrand: Sorry man I didn't care about you in the oneshots and I still don't lmao, too obnoxious for me. It heavily seems like he's here as a guest though -- I just hope this doesn't herald something weird like Travis finishing his appearance and then bowing out of the cast, please bring a second character when you're done being an NPC Travis don't go away :(

[demoneyesanddamagedsouls]

Sparring Partners

Chapter Two: Preparation

A/N: Thank you guys so much for the love on the first Chapter of this fic, I hope you enjoy this one just as much. I’m aiming to post a new chapter each week, not sure yet how many chapters this’ll have yet. Feedback and comments as always are so welcome, I’d love to hear your thoughts, and if you’d like to be tagged for the upcoming chapters just let me know! xxx

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x F! Reader

I have also just created a playlist for ya’ll to listen to while reading. I hope it gets you even more invested! ✨COCKY COWBOY PLAYLIST✨

Summary: You and Agent Whiskey are long time rivals. As Statesman agents you both have been put up for the same promotion and this mission is your final chance to prove yourself. Have you got what it takes?

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Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Slight Language, mentions of food and canon-typical violence

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CHAPTER TWO: Preparation

You both leave the conference room minds reeling from all the information that was just given to you.

As one of the younger agents at Statesman, being chosen as a potential candidate for Champ’s position was a real honour. It showed that Champ really thought highly of you and your skills. After 8 years of working as an agent, going on your fair share of dangerous and difficult missions, taking a bullet more than once, and now training the new recruits with Tequila, you knew you had worked your ass off to get where you were.  However, even with all this experience it paled in comparison to some of the more senior agents, some with 10 or more years under their belt. Hell, the person you were up against had been on the job for about 15 years, making a name for himself as one of the most fearsome agents that Statesman had to offer. You knew for a fact that Whiskey had been hoping for this position eventually, it had been something he mentioned to other agents that you heard in passing. At the top of his game and at the height of his career you realised, this cowboy was going to be one hell of a challenge to go up against.

Whiskey mulled over this new mission and Champ’s offer over and over in his mind. He wasn’t particularly surprised that Champ had propositioned him as a potential candidate for this position, he was one of the most senior agents at Statesman. Probably the closest in age to Champ and with the extensive experience he had it seemed rather obvious, but Vodka? You were still so young, in your mid 20’s the world was yet to break your spirit. Mind you, you had that bossy tone down packed. He chuckled to himself. He was hesitant to admit but you had a certain leadership quality that you didn’t see in most of the agents here. Most were contented to follow orders and carry out missions as asked, but you always had your own way of doing things, always taking the initiative. He supposed you had a fresh and young perspective that Champ must see as endearing. He however, found your constant need to take charge rather infuriating. You always seemed to think you knew best and even if you were correct, more often than not he was resigned to admit, it was still frustrating as you always seemed determined to show him up. He knew you were going to be a challenge, so determined to prove yourself, and a damned good agent to boot. Fuck this is going to be harder than he thought.

Both of you walking in the same direction out of the room, neither of you realising the other is turning to walk in the opposite direction. Both too caught up in your own thoughts you collide into each other your head smacking into Whiskeys chest. Quickly recoiling from the unintentional contact your rub your forehead with the palm of your hand. “Dammit Whiskey, watch where you’re going for Christ’s sake.”

“Well jeez Vodka how am I supposed to avoid you and that ego inflated head of yours?” He scoffed, eyeing you up and down.

You scowled at him, “You think I have a big ego? Have you looked in the mirror lately Whiskey? You and that cocky ass grin of yours have got a lot of nerve talking about my ego.” Rolling your eyes, you swiftly turn and storm away from the narcissistic cowboy.

“If you liked my smile so much you should have just said so… sunshine.” He calls back to you as you walk away. You could practically hear the smirk in that smooth as silk southern accent.

What an absolute dick. He knew exactly what he was doing when he spoke to you like that. It infuriated you. The way his southern drawl echoed in your ears, his words dripping like honey, they way he called you those stupid little pet names. Everything about Whiskey drove you up the wall, he always knew just how to get under your skin. “Fuckkkk…” You growled to yourself as you stormed into your office your heeled boots clicking angrily through the hall. Why does he always have to be so intensely irritating? You needed to get that stupid fucking smirk out of your head and get prepared for your new op. Slamming the door shut and sitting down, you start reclining in your office chair taking a deep breath and relaxing. Whiskey’s scent had lingered on your clothes creating a cloud around you after you had slammed into his chest. Inhaling the smell of cinnamon and sandalwood, a soft oaky smell, your breathing began to slow and calm. You would never tell him but that was one thing you did unfortunately enjoy about Whiskey. He always smelt good. Why did he always have to smell so damn good? Shaking your head to clear your mind of any remaining thoughts of Whiskey you leaned towards your desk and opened your laptop. This was going to be a long night…

***

Pushing the door closed with your heeled foot, you stepped into your apartment and sighed. You were exhausted. Checking your watch, you realised it was now 10 minutes past midnight. Swiftly moving to the bedroom, you flopped onto your bed groaning as you flipped yourself over and pulled off your boots, quickly changing into your pyjamas. Finally laying back down in bed you stared up at the ceiling running over the research you’d done over the course of the afternoon and evening, and the plan you had organised for tomorrow. You had spent the afternoon working, collecting copious amounts of information on CleanPlanet and the history of their company. It seemed that they were attempting to pass as an almost ‘mom and pop’ style family-owned business “Dedicated to the bettering of the planet and all the people who inhabited it.” What a load of rubbish. You had uncovered multiple articles from smaller news publications questioning the companies credibility, some families of recently passed away individuals even coming forward and accusing the company of foul play in the deaths of their relatives. CleanPlanet was owned and run by Howard Jacoby and his wife Constance, two very well-off socialites and academics who were every bit as snobby as they appeared in pictures. At least you wouldn’t be dealing with them directly thank goodness you hated dealing with high society types, that would be Whiskey’s issue.

There was a particular video that had caught your eye whilst combing through their internet presence, a TedTalk style video starring the one and only Howard Jacoby. He was speaking about how the planet was struggling with things like overpopulation and pollution, a speech which sounded eerily similar to Professor Arnold’s work, the man who had assisted Richmond Valentine and encouraged his plot to wipe out most of the planet. You shuddered at the thought. Either way you and Whiskey would get to the bottom of this. If the company and its owners were planning on anything like what Valentine had tried to execute then you needed to figure it out quickly. Deciding you’d brief Whiskey in the morning about your hunch, you set your alarm and curled up in your soft cotton sheets. Looking out your bedroom window at the twinkling of the city lights, your head sinking slowly into your pillow. You drift off into a restless sleep, anxious of what tomorrow would bring.

***

You arrived at Statesman the next morning rubbing your eyes. Your sleep had been restless, anxiety of the coming days keeping you from a comfortable evening. Pushing the door to your office open you hear a chipper voice behind you. “Well mornin’ Vodka. You ready for the op today?” You turned to see Whiskey standing in your office door frame, leaning his broad shoulder against it with a large smile plastered across his face.

Rolling your eyes at his unnecessarily wide grin, “And what’s gotten you in such a fabulous mood this morning?” You say with an exasperated sigh as you drop into your office chair with a small thud. As soon as the words fall out of your mouth his smile somehow grows larger as he pulls out the arm that was behind his back forward as he saunters into the room. Holding a large paper bag, which as soon as you spot the smell hits your nostrils. Fresh pancakes. You look at him with sudden excitement and surprise, your mood instantly lifted and the last feeling of tiredness leaving your body as you inhale deeply.

“I thought I’d bring us some breakfast to get us in the right headspace for today. I also thought we should probably trade what we found out yesterday during our research to make sure we’re both on the same page…”

“Oh, so this is a bribery breakfast huh?” You questioned as you drag your eyes away from the mouth-watering food on the desk in front of you, finally taking a proper look at Whiskey for the first time this morning. The first thing you notice is that he is not currently donning his regular black Stetson, a rather big change from his usual cowboy appearance. Instead, he was showing off his thick, brushed back hair, his wireframe Statesman issued glasses resting on his strong nose, obscuring his dark brown eyes. He was wearing a gorgeous grey checkered suit with a white dress shirt underneath, a casual yet striking look on his glowing tan complexion. It was a very nice change for the cowboy. He cleans up well, you thought. Your gaze flicks up and you notice Whiskey’s cocky grin once again. He must have thought you were eyeing him up, not that you weren’t but you weren’t about to let him know that. You roll your eyes at him trying to keep his knowing smile at bay. “So, what are you after then Whiskey?”

“Well sunshine, since you always seem to know everything, I thought I’d get your run down on things this morning before we both head out to our separate ops today.”

“Ahhhh there it is, the usual candour I’m used to from you cowboy. I was worried when you showed up this morning with a kind gesture that I wouldn’t be enjoying any of that snarky wit I have become so accustomed to.” You look down at your computer and notepad, focusing on the research notes you had made last night in somewhat of a delirious, fever dream state. “Alright let me have a look…” you trailed off.

Whiskey sits down across from you at your desk pulling the steaming pancakes out of the paper parcel you had brought this morning. Setting up the two meals Whiskey observes you, wearing a pair of simple black high waisted work pants tapering at your waist, a simple white blouse tucked into them, the buttons undone just low enough to show off your neck and the top of your chest. He darts his eyes back up to your face, so you don’t catch him staring, nose scrunched up in concentration under your matching Statesman glasses as you palm through your somewhat excessive amount of research notes. He lets out a light breath of amusement seeing you like this, confused but copiously prepared, it was a nice change of pace from your usual so certain self.

Looking back up from your notes as you find what you were looking for you see the small meal containers opened on the desk, filled with pancakes with a small pot of maple syrup on the side. Turning your focus back to Whiskey you begin to go through what information you’d gathered that you thought was pertinent to the both of you. You ran through the notes you had made, both of you working your way through breakfast, Whiskey chiming in occasionally with a mhmm and a nod here and there. “One thing that kept bugging me last night was that Ted Talk type video of Howard Jacoby… talking about the human race being a plague on the planet that needed to be cured so the earth could thrive again…”  you trial off as a look of concern crosses your face, “It was really eerie and reminded me a lot of that professor that assisted Richmond Valentine in his attempt to have the world turn on each other.”

“Well, it seems I missed that video, that sounds mighty concerning…” Whiskey trails off, leaning his elbow on the side of your desk slowly pushing his glasses back up to the bridge of his nose. “Wonder what their testing at those new hospital facilities of theirs then…” He turns to look at you, the same worry sparkling in his eyes.

“My hunch is that they must be testing something similar to what Valentine did, something that can affect extensive groups of people on a large scale. Something that would be easy to distribute and spread, but obviously more related to the medical profession because of the labs…”

“Maybe some sort of virus or infection?” He chimes in.

“Seems more than likely… I guess we’ll find out more today. Speaking of…” You glance down at your watch realising it was almost 8:30am. Still so early for your tired demeanour, but almost time for you to both be heading off. Ginger had organised a cover story for you last night and sent in for a ‘staff transfer’ so that you could get into the CleanPlanet facilities and gain access to the hospital quickly. You needed to get to the bottom of this puzzling situation fast, especially as it seemed to be becoming more concerning by the minute. “I think its time for us to head off.”

“Seems it is.” Whiskey nods and swiftly packs the remnants of breakfast back into the paper bag, throwing it into the bin beside your desk.

“So, you know what my, rather detailed I might add, plan is but you have yet to share how you plan on approaching this op.” A slight leer in your voice, aiming to provoke him. “Care to share… cowboy?”

“If you must know, Vodka,” he drawls, the civilised tone from earlier gone in a heartbeat as the two of you pick up your bags and make your way down the hallway to the elevator. “I will be posing as a one of multiple wealthy investors eager to take a tour of CleanPlanet’s new business acquisitions. A high society gentleman looking to expand my portfolio into areas I have true passion for you could say. As it so happens, it seems that Howard Jacoby is searching for some people who share his vision and have a healthy wallet.” His voice dripping in sarcasm, for this type of persona was so unlike himself. A charmer by nature his honeyed voice had made many a lady fall victim to a one-night stand, but a high society man he was not. Whiskey cleaned up well, but he was certainly a working-class gentleman with a love for simple living.

“Well, your certainly dressed the part.” You say as you eye up Whiskey admitting to yourself that he was pulling of the sleek look. You shake your head clearing your mind of the potential minute attraction forming, focusing once more on where you were going. Stepping into the elevator and tapping the basement level button, you continued. “You definitely look like a pretentious asshole.” You say, chuckling to yourself as the elevator started to move.

Suddenly Whiskey was directly in front of you looking you up and down. “Don’t pretend you haven’t been eyein’ me up little lady.” He says, voice velvety smooth. Pinned down by his gaze you suddenly feel cornered, claustrophobic in the small metal space. You feel your face begin to heat up with an incriminating red tint, uncertain whether it was from anger or something more primal, you quickly sidestep his imposing figure. The elevator dings and you swiftly exit the elevator, “You wish cowboy.” You respond, a quick exhale escaping your mouth as you calm your racing heartrate. Why was he trying to rile you up before such an important op? Why does he have to be such a cocky arse? Eyeing him up? He’s got to be kidding. He’s the absolute last person on the planet that you could ever be attracted to. He does nothing but irritate you. He may be attractive, you begrudgingly admit, but you certainly were NOT attracted to him.

You hear him chuckle behind you, “Did I touch a nerve there sunshine?” he drawls behind you as you both head towards the garage where Ginger would be waiting. Rolling your eyes in anger to yourself, you choose to ignore him. Responding would only make him continue.

Pushing the doors open to the garage you see Ginger talking to one of the mechanics. As she hears the doors swinging, she turns to you quirking her eyebrow, seeing you seething with annoyance. “Everything alright here agents?” She says, confusion evident in her tone.

“Fine Ginger,” your voice comes out strained attempting to mask your irritation, “So what have you got set up for us for the next few days?”

“For you Vodka I’ve organised this ID card so you will have access to the basic areas of the hospitals but there are higher clearance areas which I wasn’t able to duplicate. You’ll have to figure that out when it comes to it.” She hands you a small ID badge attached to a clip which you then hook onto the belt loop on your pants. “I’ve also got small earpieces for the two of you to keep in communication while inside the facilities. They’re undetectable but very effective so try not to scream while wearing them if you can.” She passes you both the tiny in ear tech piece.

“Thanks Ging.”

“Now for you Whiskey,” She pulls out a small wallet and a set of car keys, “Here’s a new wallet with your cover identity and some cash to show off of course.”

He chuckles to himself pulling out his new drivers’ licence, “Introducing Duke Silver!” He smiles and bows towards you and Ginger. You roll your eyes again, scoffing at his ridiculousness.

“And… If I can finish, Duke.” Ginger continues giving Whiskey an exaggerated frustrated look, “Here is your new automobile.” Handing him the keys she gestures to a car sitting behind her. A brilliant turquoise blue Shelby Cobra 427 with white racing stripes down the middle.

“Alright… Now that’s what I’m talking about!” Whiskey dashes over like an excited child to admire his new personas gorgeous ride.

As Whiskey admires his new toy you turn to Ginger, “What do I have the luxury of driving to ‘work’ then Ginger?”

Passing you the keys she gestures to the car behind Whiskey’s, a slightly beat-up silver Toyota Corolla. “Sorry hon, you unfortunately need to blend in as a semi-broke medical student.”

You sigh, clutching the keys in your hand. “Thanks Ging.” Walking over you pass Whiskey, still ogling his own ride, making your way to the new car you’d be enjoying for the next few days. A far cry from your own beautiful red Mustang you sighed once more. The two of you hop into your cars and adjust the inside to what you need, throwing your bags into the back seat. You look over at Whiskey and slump into your seat, incredibly jealous. “That looks like one fun car to drive…” you mutter to yourself, green with envy. “Lucky bastard.”

Whiskey revs his engine excitedly, “Thanks darlin!” He shouts to Ginger over the loud purr. Turning to you he winks, bringing your irritation back with full force. “Have fun at ‘work’ then sunshine. Talk to you later!” His voice ringing out across the concrete as he drives off, the garage doors opening as he takes off out of the facility.

“I guess I’m off too then, see you later Ginger!” You smile at her as you close your door, taking off after Whiskey ready to face whatever the day would bring.

*******************************************************************************************

Permanent Tags:

@hrk-fic-recs  @misslexilouwho  

[sillyrabbit81]

Her Heavy Cross

Summary: Three years after tragedy hits, Lana she decides to start dating again. She meets Will through a dating app and they begin an online romance. After months of constant requests, Lana relents and agrees to meet and go on an irl date with Will. But is Will who he says he is? Lana is quickly pulled into an intense relationship forcing her to confront her tragic past. Will Lana face it or will she close her heart forever?

Pairing: OMC x OFC

Word Count: approx 2.3k

Warnings: swearing, recreational drinking

Authors Note: The story started as a Henry Cavill fanfiction but I changed it to be an original character, but shades of Henry are still there. Hope you enjoy the story and thanks for reading.

Part 2

Part 1

"It's a cruel, cruel world to face on your own,

A heavy cross to carry along..."

Heavy Cross - The Gossip

He's not coming. I took a deep breath in. I knew this would happen. Why did I believe for a second that he was going to show up? He was only 5 mins late, and he could just be parking his car. I was sure he said he was getting an Uber.

No, he was late, it's the first date, and he seemed like the kind of guy who is 10 minutes early for everything. His watch could be slow, and he thinks he is on time. Except everybody has a smartphone, so everyone knows the correct time.

Why wouldn't he message to say he was late? He had messaged me to say he would call late last week. If you're the type of guy who messages someone when you're going to call them 10 minutes late, surely you'd message if you were late to actually meet them.

Damn him. He's the one who pushed for a date. After nearly three months of chatting online, texting, calling, he finally wore me down. Then he doesn't show up? Dick move.

I looked around the pub again, hoping to see him come in. The pub was dark but not unpleasant. It wasn't very crowded for a Friday night. It was the kind of place you dropped into, have a few quiet ones, and head out somewhere else.

I was the only person sitting at the bar. The bar runners smelled faintly of stale beer, earthy and sweet. I breathed the smell in, letting it soothe my nerves.

Three 20-something women were sitting at a table. A group of four guys were sitting at another not far away. Each group kept eying the other off, the girls exploding into giggles when the guys looked at them. I rolled my eyes, willing the guys to get off their arses and talk to them.

I looked over to two guys in their 40s drinking wine. They seemed so in love sitting there playing with each other's hands. I could see them playing footsie with each other under the table. One of them caught my eye. Sprung. I smiled briefly and looked away.

I jumped as the shrill ring of the pokie machines spilled out of the gaming room. I needed to calm down. I took a drink from my vodka. I wanted a cigarette.

I rechecked my outfit. I shouldn't have worn a white skirt. I don't know what I was thinking. Looking down, I noticed a bit of my bra was visible. I pulled my baby blue singlet up. I should have worn jeans and a t-shirt. Wasn't dressing like this false advertising?

The shirt felt tight. I sat up straight and checked for fat rolls. Then I slouched and checked again. Nope, not a good look. I ran my hand over my hair, checking to make sure it's still neat. It didn't feel frizzy. I put a stray curl behind my ear.

I looked at my phone again. No messages. Maybe...

"Hello, excuse me," a voice from the stool next to me said. I flinched. That was Will's silvery voice. I smiled, relief easing over me.

Turning around, my smile faltered. That's not Will.

The man sitting next to me was living proof God had favourites. He had dark curly hair, a bit long on the top but short on the sides. He had blue, almost green eyes framed by thick, dark eyelashes. Coarse stubble covered but didn't hide his strong jaw and dimpled chin. He was an Adonis. A Hellenic God brought to life.

I wanted to run a finger along his jaw, feeling his skin and prickly hair. I shivered.

"Sorry, I just saw your phone cover, and I wondered if you could help me? I'm sure I've seen that symbol before. What's it's from?"

Simultaneously, my jaw dropped, and I tried to swallow. I made a strangled noise from my throat and started to cough. I grabbed at my drink and took a huge gulp, regretting it instantly as the vodka and bitter soda caught me off guard. I managed not to spit it out, barely.

The Adonis patted me on the back as I choked. "Are you ok?" he asked.

He wasn't from around here, English like Will. But Will doesn't look like this guy. The Adonis was looking at me, his eyebrows coming together. Oh yeah, he asked me something.

"Uh," I cleared my throat. "Ah, it's the Allomantic table of elements from Mistborn," I explained.

He smiled. I giggled. I. Fucking. Giggled. I felt the heat in my cheeks.

Still smiling, Adonis raised an eyebrow. "That's where I know it from. They are great books. Have you read other Brandon Sanderson?"

He was built like a rugby player. His shoulders were broad, and he had thick thighs. I could see the definition of his muscles through his dark denim jeans. He was wearing a light grey knitted jumper. It was so light and thin that it clung to his chest and tufts of dark hair poked out the top. He had pushed his sleeves up, exposing his forearms which were, like every part of him it seemed, toned and defined. Everything about this guy screamed masculinity.

He was very likely out of my league. Although he looked around his late 30s, guys who look like him are after 22-year-olds, not girls who were 30 last birthday. Yeah, that was it. He isn't hitting on you; he was actually curious. This realisation was what I needed to stop being a dribbling mess and return to a normal state of being.

"Yeah, I have a bit. I'm really enjoying The Way of the Kings." I felt my shoulders relax. I hadn't realised I was clenched up.

"Yeah, I've read that too. It's great. My name is Liam, by the way."

"Lana," I replied and stuck out my hand. He took my hand and shook it firmly. His hand swallowed mine.

"Pleased to meet you, Lana," Liam said in an almost formal way. He was still holding my hand. I felt the return of the Dribbling Mess. His hand was so warm. My stomach reminded me of a book I  read as a kid, 'there was an old lady who swallowed a spider, that wiggled and jiggled and tickled inside her.'

"Yeah, you too," I managed. I tried to take as much of my Australian accent out of the reply as possible. He sounded so posh, and I sounded like a bogan.

He smiled again, or did he smirk? He let go of my hand. I was barely able to stop myself from putting my hand to my cheek to feel the warmth still there. I smiled back at him and turned back to the bar. My hand went to my cheek.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

I looked back at Liam to make sure I had heard right. Yes, he was looking at me expectantly, his finger pointed to my drink. "What are you drinking?"

"Vodka, soda and fresh lime." It was my usual drink, and I said it instinctively. I could say the order even when I'm three sheets to the wind.

Liam signalled the bartender and ordered. I took the time to calm myself. I counted to 5, breathing deeply through my nose and out through my mouth. It worked, and my muddled thoughts cleared.

I had forgotten Will. I supposed it's not a good look for a random guy to buy you a drink when you're supposed to be on a first date. But then, Will wasn't here. I checked my phone, no messages or emails. Nothing.

Liam got himself a beer, grabbed my drink and stood up. "Would you like to go to the beer garden? It's a nice night out, and I'm really enjoying this Sydney weather."

"I uh... I'm waiting for someone."

Liam sat back down. "Surely they can find you outside when they get here. It's not that big a place."

"Yeah. I guess, but..." I was interrupted by the group of women I had seen earlier. They were bouncing as they stood, eyes flashing and huge grins on their faces.

One of them asked, "sorry, excuse me, are you, Liam Cross?"

Liam looked at me. His eyes clouded for a moment, and then an awkward smile was plastered to his face. He looked back at the women. "Yes, I am. Would you like a picture?"

Excited squeals and jumping came from the women, but I zoned out. Liam Cross. What the fuck? I stared at him. How the hell did I not recognise him? I've watched nearly everything he has done since he started acting.

I never really thought much of him playing superheroes or spies. Then I saw his last movie where he played a magic enhanced warrior, and he entered my fantasies. A strong, rough, capable man of action with a heart and moral code, what wasn't to love?

My God, it really was him. Liam Fucking Cross.

Liam cleared this throat, and I snapped back to reality.

"You're really him," I said.

"Sorry?" Liam cocked his head to one side.

"You're really Liam Cross."

"Oh yeah. I am." Liam grinned.

"I'm sorry I didn't recognise you. I don't know. I guess it didn't even enter my head, even when you said your name."

"And here I was thinking you were playing it cool," Liam said.

I scoffed, and before I could stop myself, I said, "yeah, nah, nothing about me was cool from the moment I laid eyes on you." I wanted to die.

Liam laughed, a proper belly laugh, and his shoulders seemed to bounce up and down. "Well, alright then, you weren't playing it cool. But it's ok. I don't need to be recognised by everyone I meet."

"Yeah, but I should have recognised you. I've seen heaps of your work." Just stop talking, Lana!

Liam waved his hand. "Don't worry about it. Where were we before we were interrupted? Beer garden, you and me."

I nodded. I grabbed my bag, and Liam took our drinks. "After you," he said, gesturing and inclining his head.

As I walked outside, I could feel my skin heat up. It was a warm March night and only slightly humid. A cool breeze was coming in from the harbour. We were close enough to smell the salt in the air.

"Where did you want to sit?" I asked. Only one bloke was having a cigarette outside, so plenty of tables to choose from.

Liam looked around and indicated to the tables down the back. "Down there, I'm less likely to be noticed there."

"That must suck."

"Yes and no. I like that people like my work and want to tell me and meet me. It feels good. It's just that sometimes, like now, I'd like some private time."

We sat down, Liam with his back to the pub. I sat opposite him.

"If you want some private time, why go to a pub?" I said. I covered my mouth. "Sorry, it's not my business," I added.

"Direct, aren't you?" Liam's lips twitched. "I am also here to meet with someone."

"Oh shit, Will." I rechecked my phone. "30 minutes late." I sighed, "I think I got stood up."

"Really? He must be an idiot." My eyes widened. Liam's lip twitched again. Was he laughing at me? "How long have you been dating?"

"This was supposed to be our first date. We met online, been chatting for a few months." My voice was quiet.

Will isn't coming. The realisation hit me, and I felt like I'd had a brick hit my chest. I turned away from Liam. If I was going to cry, I wasn't going to cry in front of him. I'm an ugly crier.

"Oh, Sweetheart, I'm sorry." Sweetheart? It must be an English thing because Will calls me that too. "Have you called him?"

I shook my head. I didn't entirely trust myself to speak yet.

"Why don't you?" Liam asked. "If he has a flimsy excuse for not coming tonight, then at least you'll know where he stands, and you can stop worry about it."

I took a few deep breaths. "I guess you're right." I got my phone out of my bag and stood up, "Give me a minute?"

Liam nodded. Twitchy lips again. What's with that?

I walked a couple of metres away and called Will. I started to pace, glancing at the back of Liam's head every few steps. Liam's phone began to ring. After a few rings, Will picked up.

"Hello Lana, how are you?" He sounded nonchalant. Did I get the day wrong then? No, I was sure I had it right. I had checked his message so many times.

"I'm ok. I am waiting for you at the pub." I paused and looked at Liam. He was on the phone too. "Did I get the day wrong?"

"No, you didn't. I'm here." I let out a breath I didn't realise I was holding.

"That's great. Did you just arrive? Can you see me?" I looked around. I couldn't see him. I looked back at Liam. He was still on the phone but had turned in his chair and was looking at me.

"I can see you. You can see me too," Will said. I turned around in a circle. I still couldn't see him.

"I'm sorry, I can't see you at all."

"I'll come to you then," Will said.

Liam got up out of his chair and walked towards me. Liam was close now, and he stopped. Liam hung up the phone, and the call with Will went dead.

My heart thundered in my chest. I could hear the blood rushing through my body with each tremendous beat. The ground seemed unstable, and I wobbled. This isn't happening. It can't be happening.

Liam bent to my ear, his breath tickling my neck. His lips brushed my skin as he whispered in a low voice, "I'm right here, Sweetheart."

Part 2

[stewblog]

BLACK WIDOW

It shouldn’t have taken this long to happen, but now that it’s finally arrived Black Widow was (almost) everything it needed to be. 

Admittedly, it’s a little difficult not to harbor at least a small amount of animosity toward Marvel Studios regarding the first (and almost certainly only) solo outing for Natasha Romanoff (Scarlett Johansson). Black Widow should have, at minimum, replaced the release of Captain Marvel in 2019, if not arrived years earlier. One of the founding members of the Marvel Cinematic Universe’s version of The Avengers deserved a more prominent placement in the canon thus far. But, none of that is really the fault of this particular film or the people directly responsible for making it, but I felt it necessary to specify that upfront. 

Given that Natasha has already (spoilers for a three-year-old film, I guess) died, it made me wonder what the point of giving her a solo film would even be at this juncture of the MCU. Making it a prequel, though technically necessary, sounded even less interesting. That said, once this thing hits home video you can quite easily slip it in right after Captain America: Civil War where it belongs and nearly all of the release timing issues will simply melt away. 

So how does it fare when you’re watching it right now in the theater (or on Disney+ Premiere Access)? I was honestly a bit surprised at how much I enjoyed it and at how well it holds itself up as a standalone adventure, albeit with some notable flaws. 

After a brief prologue in 1990s Ohio where it shows Natasha and her little sister Yelena were raised by a pair of Russian sleeper agents, we pick things up right after the events of Captain America: Civil War. Natasha is on the run having betrayed her commitment to the Sokovia Accords (the pact which outlaws all superhero activity not explicitly sanctioned by the United Nations). She heads out into the middle of nowhere and does her best to lay low (she’s a big fan of the James Bond movie Moonraker, it turns out). But it’s not long before trouble comes calling. 

Natasha wasn’t the only child groomed to be part of the Widow program. Yelena (Florence Pugh) grew up to become quite the adept secret agent as well, only she’s discovered the hard way that her generation of Widows have all been genetically brainwashed after being unexpectedly dosed with a vaccine that reverses the mental locks put into place. Now on the run herself, Yelena attempts to reunite with Natasha in an attempt to free their Widow sisters and take down the so-called Red Room program. 

The ensuing film moves at an appropriate breakneck pace with all the motorcycles, car chases, fist fights, shootouts,derring do and clandestine political intrigue that one would expect to find in any given movie starring the likes of Jason Bourne. And like Jason Bourne’s escapades, this becomes a very personal mission for Natasha and Yelena as they seek to enact vengeance upon the organization and people who so callously disregard the humanity of the women they reprogram and exploit. 

There’s a pleasing physicality at play throughout the action and mayhem of Black Widow. Granted, that’s almost by necessity given that all but one major character lacks anything resembling traditional super powers, so the action takes on a more grounded feel than what we typically get from a Marvel movie where robotic suits of armor, demigods and mystical arts have become de rigueur, bordering on passe’. It doesn’t (or perhaps can’t) measure up to the type of action and stunts offered up by the likes of, say, the recent Mission: Impossible films but it’s still satisfying and engaging on its own terms. 

That said, what makes this more than just The Bourne Imitation, though, is the focus and attention on the ersatz family that ends up being the heart of the film. Natasha and Yelena are initially abandoned by Alexei (David Harbour) and Milena (Rachel Weisz), only to once again be thrust together decades later. This culminates in a wonderful scene at a dinner table where everyone slips back into their domestic roles both knowingly and not. There is both conflict and affection flowing back and forth, and not always equally. But the chemistry and writing at play turns this scene and, as a group, these characters and this scene into something that rarely rears its head within the Marvel Cinematic Universe. 

Harbour has sort of cemented his career playing lovable schlubs and that’s played to maximum effect (and affect) here as he charismatically lumbers his way through each scene as the Soviety Union’s own Communism-loving Captain America knock-off The Red Guardian. Alexei’s blowhard nature is quite often played up for comedic effect (even during fight scenes) but Harbour still manages to allow an endearing sincerity to shine through, especially when he’s interacting with his “daughters.” 

Weisz, sadly, is given very little to do though she makes the most of it. It’s Pugh and Johansson who, rightly, carry the weight of the entire proceeding. Their interactions feel human, fully informed and realized thanks to years of resentment, hardship and all that comes with being a hyper-trained super spy. Pugh and Johansson carry it naturally and with ease. Johansson deserved to have this film much sooner, but I will at least admit that having it this late in the game does at least allow for Johansson to draw from a deeper slate of the character’s history and experience, lending additional weight to the proceedings. Pugh also is a superb actor in her own right and at the risk of spoilers, let’s just say that I can’t wait to see where she takes Yelena further down the road. 

If there’s a significant flaw to Black Widow it’s that the story’s central villain leaves a lot to be desired, and not just by the fairly high standards Marvel Studios has set with its canon of villains. I realize that not every film can have a Loki or Killmonger or Hela-caliber villain, and certainly more than a few MCU films have faltered when it comes to the bad guy in charge. But so much of Black Widow’s thematic weight comes from watching these women reclaim their lives from the men who stole them. Natasha has an engaging encounter with Dreykov (Ray Winstone), the man behind the Red Room, but there’s too little meat there, too little actualized history for it to mean much. It doesn’t help that Winstone’s performance is wildly, distractingly uneven as he wavers constantly between a cartoonish persona and delivering actual menace. To say nothing of his hilariously inconsistent accent. 

Despite this, Black Widow largely succeeds at providing a proper sendoff both for the character and for Johansson via an exciting outing that’s got heart and laughs to spare. 

[nalgenewhore]

Slipping Through My Fingers - Four

masterlist - ao3 - last chapter - next chapter

warnings: none

The bell finally rang on a glorious Friday afternoon and Elide corralled all her students, herding them into the cubby room. 

Kohana, as always, was one of the first students ready, standing next to the door silently as his proclaimed ‘bestest friend ever’ stood next to him, excitedly chattering about her weekend plans. 

Esther Corsario-Beausoleil was an adorable little girl, with sea green eyes and a cloud of coily, flaming red locks, the child to Elide’s favourite parents - Ilias, Ansel, and Rolfe. Elide had known Ansel forever and knew that they proclaimed it to be a cruel and unjust punishment to stick their kid with three last names. Ilias had gotten the pick of her first name as a consolation. Unlike one of her fathers and Kohana, she hardly ever stopped talking, but it seemed as though Kohana’s presence had a calming effect on her. 

Esther was currently explaining to Kohana that her last name, translated into the common tongue, meant ‘pirate-beautiful sun’. Esther had the cutest accent, her pronunciation of her last names immaculate. 

That had him excited as he hurriedly told her that his last name meant ‘god of the sea-saviour of the earth’. They looked very pleased with themselves and Esther managed to stop hopping around to show him how her shoes lit up. 

“Ok, friends, is everybody ready?” Elide asked, standing at the front of the line. They all nodded and took each other’s hands like she’d taught them before she led them outside. It was beautiful again today and Elide couldn’t wait to go over to Nesryn and Lysandra’s place tonight, her week - while she loved it and it had gone as smoothly as possible - had been hectic and she was ready to relax with her closest friends. 

Elide said hello to the parents and nannies, pulling some of them to the side to discuss minor issues they’d had. Somehow, she’d managed to make it through the week without a single wet pants situation and Elide thanked whatever deity had ensured that small victory for her. 

“Elide! Elide!” Elide turned, to see Esther pointing across the asphalt area to her mother, who was climbing out of a sleek red Cadillac. “C’est Maman!” 

Elide chuckled as Ansel strolled up, wearing a pair of skin tight black jeans, a black top and a burgundy leather jacket, her eyes hidden behind a pair of cat-eye sunglasses. She tossed her glossy locks over her shoulder and opened her arms, letting her daughter race towards her and launch herself into her arms. “Bon après-midi, my petite. On fait bien, oui?” Esther nodded and began to babble as Ansel propped her up on her hip and walked to Elide. “Elide, my saviour!” Oh, how Elide loved that sultry accent.

“Hey, Ansel. Esther was a joy, yet again. We made some art today, but it won’t be dry until Monday.” 

Ansel nodded and turned to Kohana, who was now standing alone, the last kid, as he waited for his dad. There was a crease between his brows as he watched with those light eyes of his. “Hi, Ko-Ko. How we doing?” 

He turned to Ansel and waved, “Hi-hi. ‘m waiting for até.” He fell silent again, wringing his hands until something crossed over his face and he was off before Elide could stop him, running as fast as his little legs would take him. Kohana didn’t get too far before Lorcan was scooping him up. 

Lorcan was smiling widely as he easily put Kohana on his shoulders and walked over to Elide and Ansel. Kohana looked pleased, his little hands holding onto Lorcan’s hair as he sat on his perch. “Hey, Ansel, Esther.” Esther waved at him vigorously and swung her legs out, trying to get her shoes to light up again. “Elide.” 

“Lorcan.” Ansel looked back and forth between them with narrowed eyes after she pushed her sunglasses up into her wine-coloured hair. Elide still couldn’t tell if it was natural or not - even after all these years - but with Esther’s red strands, she couldn’t be sure. “Kohana was a perfect student this week. I’m very impressed with his ability to tie his own shoes. He’s got the best bunny ears in the game.” She winked at Kohana, who giggled and clapped his little hands before leaning over his father’s head. 

“I tied my shoes all the days, até.” 

“Good job, Ko. You ready to go?” 

“Yep! Got say bye-bye to Essie!” Kohana sat up straight and stretched out his arm, waving bye to Esther. “Bye-bye, Essie!” 

Esther beamed and waved goodbye to him as well, “Au revoir, Ko-Ko!” 

The adults chuckled at the cuteness and all said their farewells as Lorcan strolled off. Ansel swivelled to Elide, a brow raised, “What the fuck was that?” 

“Maman! Mauvais mot,” Esther chastised her mother, frowning as she crossed her arms. 

“Just like your Aba, huh? Always tell me what to do,” Ansel teased her daughter in reference to Ilias. Elide had known Ansel when they were both in university, around the time that she met her now husbands, and Elide knew that Rolfe and Ansel were the troublemakers of the relationship. “But seriously, what was that?” 

Elide rolled her eyes, “You’re still coming tonight, right? I’ll tell you then.” 

Ansel pouted and sighed dramatically, “Oh, I suppose I can wait that long.” They laughed and soon enough, were departing as Elide headed back to her classroom. 

She puttered around, tidying up and putting the little chairs up before gathering her things. It didn’t take more than fifteen minutes and she was off, after closing the blinds and turning off the lights, heading home for the weekend. 

It was nice out again today, but Elide had still brought her car, a cute, vintage, baby-blue painted Volkswagen Bug. She rolled down the windows as she drove home, happy with the success of her first week. 

Granted, she could’ve done without the realization that she’d had a one-night stand with one of her student’s fathers, but she’d take what she could get. 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

“Dad, where we going?” 

“We’re going to Ro’s house, kiddo.” 

“Can I bring Tigger?” 

Lorcan looked down at his son, his eyes wide as he pouted. “Sorry, Ko, you know Tigger stays at home.” 

Kohana sulked, crossing his arms tightly. “Wanna bring Tigger.” He frowned deeply, a fierce glare pointed at Lorcan as he picked the child up and locked their front door behind him, walking to the truck. Every first Friday of the month, the guys would all meet up and play poker somewhere. The level of the stakes varied, but never exceeded an ostentatious amount. 

As a bribe, Lorcan stopped at a fast food place and bought his son chicken nuggets on his way to Rowan’s, smiling in the rearview as Kohana happily munched on his dinner and kicked his legs out. Soon enough, they pulled up in front of Rowan’s townhouse and hopped out of the truck. 

Kohana raced to the door and pressed incessantly on Rowan’s doorbell until the silver-haired man yanked the door open, assuming it was Lorcan doing it to annoy him. Upon seeing Kohana, he grinned and picked the little one up, tickling his sides until he was squirming away. “No! No more!” 

“Boyo just devoured ten chicken nuggets, don’t blame me when he barfs on you,” Lorcan said dryly, laughing as Rowan made a nervous face and put Kohana down. He pushed past Rowan’s legs and raced into the house, roaring his arrival. 

“So how’s the teacher?” 

Lorcan groaned, “Fen told you?” 

“Literally the second after you told him.” 

“Fucking Marama,” Lorcan muttered, putting down Kohana’s backpack of toys and books. 

“Someone say my name?” Fenrys yelled as he popped out from behind the corner and Lorcan shouted. 

“Hellas below, man, can you not? I hate it when you do that.” Fenrys cackled and Lorcan wondered how on earth did he convince Nehemia to marry him. They all walked into the kitchen and sat at the table, with Kohana as their dealer. 

They didn’t fuck around after their greetings and got right into the game. At some point, Connall had fished out the old visor with DEALER stamped across it and plopped it on Kohana’s head. 

The five-year old took his job very seriously, his brows furrowed as he carefully passed out the correct amount of cards. “Juice, please.” 

After he’d gotten his juice box, the game was back on. Fenrys looked at Lorcan and wiggled his brows in a way that Lorcan did not like. “So, Man-Man,” Kohana looked up from the chips he was carefully stacking, sitting atop a pile of books so that he could see the entire table. “How’s school going? You like your teacher?” 

“Fenrys-” 

“Teacher is nice. Like her. She read stories and paint and draw and play outside with us. Did you know I gots a bestest friend, Fenny?” 

“What? I thought I was your bestest friend, Ko!” Fenrys exclaimed, holding a hand to his heart like he was wounded. “What’s your bestest friend like?” 

“Very loud. Essie talks a lot,” Kohana said, moving on to the blue chips. “She gots shoes that light up too.” 

“She seems like a nice friend,” Vaughan said, smiling fondly at his nephew. “Do you have light up shoes, Fenny?” Fenrys, mindful of the child sitting in full view, stuck his tongue out at Vaughan, making Kohana giggle. 

“Essie has two daddies and one mommy.” 

Lorcan elaborated, “She’s Corsario’s kid.” 

“Oh dang really?” Connall asked, his brows lifting. “Ay, didn’t he marry Ilias and Ansel?” 

“Yeah, they were in that prenatal class with us,” Lorcan said, focusing on his cards. 

“That is a brave man.” 

“What’dya mean?” 

“Marrying Rolfe and Ansel? I’m surprised he hasn’t had a heart attack yet.” 

They all chuckled and soon enough, the game recommenced, at the behest of the dealer. 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

“I got to say, El, Esther’s so happy she gets to call you by your first name.” Ansel rolled her eyes, “She had the most ridiculous daycare leader ever who made the kids learn the ‘proper’ way to address adults.” 

“They’re kids! Some of them haven’t even turned five yet, for fuck’s sake. If all we’re doing is learning our numbers and ABCs, then they definitely do not have to ‘address’ me like that. Certainly not if I’m teaching them to treat others how they want to be treated,” Elide said, helping Lysandra in the kitchen by washing a head of lettuce.

Ansel nodded her agreement and a wicked gleam entered her eyes as Elide started tearing up the green leaves. “So… how much more drunk do you have to be to spill that hot drama you’ve been sitting pretty on, with your cute lil ass?”  

Elide groaned and flicked Ansel’s nose, “Dude… can you be chill? For once?” 

“Spill? Spill what?” Aelin asked, popping into the kitchen. 

“Oh, am I finally going to figure out why you were being so weird on Saturday?” That was Nehemia, walking into the kitchen with Nesryn. Lysandra was already there, cutting something up for whatever dinner they were having. 

Elide groaned in defeat and hit her head on the countertop. “I slept with my student’s dad.” 

“What?” 

She lifted her head and pinched the bridge of her nose, “The guy from Friday night is the father of one of my students.” 

They gawked at her, utterly silent until Ansel gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. “Mon dieu, it’s Lorcan, right? Am I right?” 

“Mm-hmm. Yup.” 

Aelin, Ansel, and Nehemia cackled as Lysandra gave her a sympathetic look and hugged her. “I’m sorry, honey. That doesn’t sound fun.” 

Elide pouted and whined, “It’s so bad! I thought he was stalking me or something when he showed up!” A thought crossed her mind and she swore, “Anneith below, it’s gonna be so awkward at parent-teacher conferences!” 

“How?” 

“Well, I think he’s divorced and they have joint custody? Anyway, we’ve barely said more than two sentences to each other and I can’t even look him in the eye. The mother is going to have to be brain-dead-” 

Ansel sucked in a breath, all the humour in her face disappearing. “El… can I talk to you quickly?” 

They all exchanged weird looks as Elide slipped off her stool and followed Ansel to the backyard. The red-haired woman was pacing, biting her thumbnail. “Ans, what is it?” 

“Kohana’s mom died four years ago. She got sick and they didn’t find anything wrong until it was too late.” 

“Oh my gods. Are you serious?” 

Ansel nodded, her eyes conflicted. “Yeah. I figured you knew already. She and Lorcan had been together for years, highschool sweethearts.” 

Elide felt her heart drop and she couldn’t find the words to process anything. She knew what it was like to lose her parents at a young age and suddenly it all made sense. Kohana’s wariness to make friends outside of Esther, waiting anxiously for his dad to show up at pickup, lingering by Lorcan at dropoff. “Poor Kohana. Poor Lorcan. Shit.” 

Ansel winced and nodded, “I wouldn’t mention it to him until he brings it up. Losing her like that… no one should have to live through that. Especially with a kid.” 

Elide nodded, her mind reeling. Somehow, this mess became even messier. She wasn’t sure how it had done that. 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

Fenrys was having a no-blinking contest with Kohana when his phone buzzed. The five-year old smirked, the little shit had the audacity to smirk at him, his gaze piercing and wide open. “Do you needs a break?” 

Man, fuck him and his stupid grammar, Fenrys said to himself as he nodded and Kohana blinked, taking a bite of his mini Babybel. His hands were barely big enough to hold it in one. The golden-haired man had never wanted to throttle anyone more. 

He stepped away from the table and took out his phone, smiling at the image of his wife that lit up the screen. He accepted the call, “Hey, Mi. What’s up?” 

“Hi, babe, um… did Lorcan tell you that…?”

“Oh, Ko’s teacher? Yeah, he told me.” He paused, checking that everyone was busy doing something. “What about it?” 

Nehemia breathed out slowly, “She’s Aelin’s sister. Elide.” 

“Oh fuck.” 

A little voice gasped from behind him and Fenrys turned, seeing Kohana clap his hands over his ears. Bless that kid and his innocence. “Mi, I gotta go. Let’s talk more at home, ok?” 

“Ok. Love you, Fen.” 

“Love you too.” 

Kohana’s eyes were wide and he whispered, “You said a bad word, Fenny.” 

Fenrys stuffed his phone back into his pocket and quickly lifted Kohana up, carrying him to the kitchen. “I know, Man-Man. But guess what?” 

“What?” 

“If you keep it a secret and don’t tell your daddy, I’ll give you ice cream. Deal?” 

Kohana’s vehement nod was answer enough for Fenrys.

+*+*+*+*+*+*

an: Até means father in Lakota :) and it’s gonna be a lil slow for now, ok? but don’t worry, the drama is coming 👀

@mythicaitt @tinywolfofeyllwe @schmlip-scribble @the-regal-warrior @westofmoon @empire-of-wildfire @rhysands-highlady @city-of-fae @shyvioletcat @alifletcher2012 @tangledraysofsunshine @ttakeitbacknoww @tswaney17 @ourbooksuniverse @flora-and-fae @thesirenwashere @queenofxhearts @maastrash @mynewdreamwasyou @cursebreaker29 @superspiritfestival @empress-ofbloodshed @queen-of-glass @sleeping-and-books @beccasophia95 @exersize-me-i-dare-u @thewayshedreamed @hizqueen4life @ifinallygavein @bat-wing-rhys @awkward-avocado-s @b00kworm​

[janeyseymour]

Secret Santa

My wonderful friend Ay had an idea to do a white elephant with this bunch? I don’t really understand white elephant, so I changed it a bit, and uh... this was born. I hope you enjoy!

Every year since being reincarnated, the queens did a secret santa gift exchange. This year, they added the entire diner crew. Fluff ensues.

Christmas was coming, and as usual, Jane was in the Christmas spirit as much as anybody else.

“Every year, we do a secret santa exchange between the queens and I know for a fact the others wouldn’t mind if you and your family joined in on the fun!” the queen explained to her waitress friend.

“It honestly might be better that way,” Aragon let out a laugh. “We all end up finding out who our secret santa is before we exchange gifts anyway.”

“We’d love to do that!”

“Sounds great! So, we normally draw names, well... tonight. And then, on Christmas Eve we usually exchange gifts. Although, I’m sure we could do another night if you would rather celebrate Christmas Eve with just Lulu and Jim. You’re more than welcome to hang out with us that day too though! And oh, Becky, Dawn and Ogie will surely be around too right? Maybe even Cal? We’d be more than happy to have you all. Although, again, it really wouldn’t be offensive to us if-”

“Jane, you’re rambling.”

“Oh, dammit. Sorry,” the silver queen apologized.

“There’s really nothing to apologize for. We’d love to celebrate Christmas Eve with you, and I’m sure everyone would love to participate in the secret santa exchange!”

The group of thirteen gathered at the diner one night, ready to pick names out of a hat.

“Okay, the rule is, if you pick yourself, you have to redraw. We don’t need another situation like last year,” Jane laughed, giving a pointed look at the fourth queen. The previous year, Anna had picked herself and bought herself a new car- one she crashed and totalled approximately a week later.

“Oh god, don’t remind me Seymour,” the red queen groaned in embarrassment.

“Who’s first?” When no one made a move, the blonde looked towards the youngest one there. “Well Lu?”

The girl in pigtails stuck her hand in the bowl with all of the names and picked. Thankfully, she was excelling in her reading and knew how to read each and every person’s name there. She opened it up, not letting anybody see who she had, and grinned.

“You didn’t get yourself, right love?”

“Nope! I got the perfect person!” Jane. She had gotten her Aunt Janey.

The group continued to pick until everyone had someone. Nobody had gotten themselves, and everybody had kept it a secret.

“So the other rule is it has to fit in a plastic bag from the diner. That way, when everyone brings their presents over, it isn’t given away who had who based on the bag everyone carries in. “And yes, we learned this from previous years.”

Cathy laughed, fondly remembering the time she had figured out who had who based on the bags they all carried in and who ended up with the gift bags before they had even started opening presents.

“And one final thing, keep the name of the person you have in your hand. That’s the tag we use so we can’t identify others by their writing.” Kat let out a laugh, remembering she knew in previous years who her secret santa was based on handwriting alone.

And so, there they were on Christmas Eve, having eaten more than they had on Thanksgiving and laughing more than they ever had.

“Lu, are you excited for Santa to come?” Anne bounced the little one in her lap.

“I am! I hope Santa brings you guys everything you want too!” The girl beamed, always thinking of others. “Can we start our secret santa present thingy so I can go to bed so Santa can come?”

“I think that’s a great idea miss Lu!” Jenna beamed at her daughter. It was becoming a hassle to get her daughter to go to bed these days, so her wanting to go to bed was a welcomed change.

“So, how do you guys run this thing?” Becky looked towards Jane for guidance.

“Well, we usually all sit on the floor in a circle,” Jane began and gestured for everyone to move before continuing. “And since we all put our bags under the tree, why don’t we just all pass the bags out? Lulu can start since she’s the youngest, and then whoever her secret santa is can go next and so on. Who wants to play Santa this year?”

“Me!” Lulu’s hand shot up, and she was out of the second queen’s lap in an instant.

The little one had passed out everyone’s presents, and

“Go ahead little Lu,” Anne beamed, hoping that her younger friend would like her gift.

The girl opened her present with no hesitation, her mouth agape once she saw what was in the bag: a new apron with all of the queens’ assigned colors in stripes with the addition of a purple stripe. “Woah! This is amazing! Thank you secret santa! I love it!”

“Who do you think gave you the gift?” Jim questioned.

“I don’t know, but whoever did, thank you!” Lulu exclaimed, already having put the apron on proudly.

“Hun, the point of the game is to guess who gave you the gift,” Becky told her gently.

“Oh!” the girl laughed, a bit confused but happy to go along with the game. “I think... Lina!”

“Wasn’t me mija,” the first queen shrugged. “Guess again?”

“Aunt Janey?”

“Good guess love, but it wasn’t me either. One more guess,” the silver queen laughed.

“Annie?”

“Bingo!” The green queen exclaimed. Lulu immediately launched herself at the woman with space buns.

“Oh my gosh Annie, thank you so much! I love it!”

“I’m glad you like it! I worked pretty hard on it!” Nobody but Jane knew the truth in that statement. The second queen had caved and asked- no. begged- Jane to teach her how to sew in order to make this present.

“I love it! It has all of your colors from the show! But, what’s this purple here for?”

“Well, I figured, you might like to have your own color!”

(Lulu would claim her favorite color was purple for the rest of her life.)

“Okay Annie, it's your turn to open your present!”

“Wheels for my heelies? Bro! This could be anyone!”

“Look a little closer,” Becky stifled a laugh.

“What? Wait, turtles? This could only be from Dawn!”

“You caught me,” the waitress with glasses blushed.

(The silly queen would always make sure to put these wheels in when Dawn was around.)

“A new turtle pin!” Dawn grinned and happily attached it to her shirt. “Thank you to uh,” the waitress glanced at it and remembered all of the queens’ respected colors. “Catherine!”

“I think it’s safe to say everyone here has earned the right to call me Catalina, or even Lina,” the first wife said genuinely.

“Thank you Lina.” Dawn smiled at the nickname.

(That pin became her second favorite- right under the turtle pin that Ogie gave her as a wedding present.)

“These are beautiful.” The golden queen admired the beautiful earrings that she had received.

“Any guesses?”

“Jane?”

“It wasn’t me, and I really don’t know who it’s from,” the blonde said earnestly.

“Cathy?”

“Not from me.”

“Jenna?” The head waitress shook her head no.

“What the-”

“It’s from me,” the usually gruff cook said shyly as he raised his hand quietly.

“Thank you Cal.” Catherine went about taking her Christmas earrings out and putting her new ones in. “They’re beautiful.”

“I hope you like them.”

(Catherine wore them to a press junket. Cal noticed and smiled to himself. He was glad she liked them enough to wear on a red carpet. When the gold queen was asked about the beautiful earrings, she was happy to tell the world a close friend named Cal gave them to her.)

“A new apron? And a new spatula?” Cal looked confused. In reality, this could be from anyone. “Jenna?” the brunette made a ‘no’ gesture. “Jim?”

“Nope.”

“Look a little closer at the spatula,” Cathy spoke up. “ Tis an ill cook that cannot lick his own fingers” was engraved into it.

“Shakespeare?” Cal looked a bit bewildered.

“It means that if a cook can’t bear to eat his own food, he isn’t a very good cook, and we all know you’re one of the best around,” Cathy explained, a tint of red shading her face. “And I’ve noticed that your apron is stapled to keep it together. Figured you might like a new one.”

“I- Thanks Cath.” The man smiled one of the most genuine smiles any of his coworkers had ever seen. Jenna would be sure to tell Cathy how much that present had meant to him, because the lord knew that Cal wasn’t very good at expressing his feelings.

(It didn’t go unnoticed that the spatula was used exactly once before it hung in a shadowbox that the cook would touch for good luck every time he walked into the diner for the rest of his time working.)

“Bookmarks? This could quite literally be from anyone,” the writer laughed. “Who do I have left to choose from?” She surveyed the room before noticing that a certain mother wouldn’t look her in the eye. “Jenna?”

“Yeah?”

“How did you know I needed new bookmarks?” She truly thought that only her fellow queens would pick up on the fact that she was using strange objects as bookmarks.

“I’ve seen the way you’ll use anything as a bookmark, but I’ve never seen you use a proper bookmark,” Jenna explained. “For crying out loud, I saw you use a soda can tab the other day.”

“I-” the sixth queen was truly stunned. And then, she got a closer look at the bookmarks. They were beautiful- all different shades of blue, but each had delicate details and accents with her fellow queens colors. “These are beautiful. Thank you.”

(She would go on to use these bookmarks for the rest of her days, alternating between the different bookmarks.)

“A new pie dish!” the baker exclaimed with glee. “Oh how wonderful! Thank you!”

“Who’s it from?” Jim questioned.

“It’s from-,” Jenna eyed up the pie dish for a long while before catching that on the side in small and crisp writing it read, “ all i wanna do is bake... all i do is sing... all i do is bake and sing” “-Thank you Kat.”

“You’re welcome,” the pink haired queen tried to say it casually. “Hope you like it.”

“I love it. And I love the reference to the musical.”

(Whenever she brought over pie to the queens from that day forward, she made sure to bake it in the pie dish that the fifth queen had gifted her.)

“A book on American history...?” Katherine grinned, knowing exactly who gave it to her. “Thank you Ogie.”

“I thought since you liked British history so much, you might like to read up on American history now that you live in the states,” Ogie offered. “If you don’t like it though, I can surely think of something else to get you.”

“That won’t be necessary. I love it. Thank you.”

(Kat would stay up late into the night reading about the fascinating history of the country she now resided in. Cathy would find her asleep the next morning with the book in her lap before leaving the room. She returned with the bookmark matched with her friend’s color and bookmark the page for her, but not before attaching a sticky note that read, “ I expect this to be returned to me when you wake up.” When Ogie was playing Paul Revere the next time, the fifth queen was in the front row watching her friend reenact her new favorite part of history.)

“Wow! This is beautiful! Almost an exact replica of the one the Paul Revere wears in my reenactments! Thank you!”

“Well, who do you think got it for you hun?” Dawn also admired the new coat her husband had just been given.

“I- I- I, Cleves?” he guessed. Surely, this was a rather expensive gift, and everyone knew that the red queen had money to spare.

“Nope, wasn’t me.”

“Becky?”

“You wish. I’m not going to encourage your-”

“That’s enough Becky. My daughter is in the room,” Jenna scolded her boisterous friend.

“She won’t encourage his what, Mama?” the little girl in the room stared up at her mother with wide eyes.

“Nothing to worry about hun. Just some adult stuff.” The baker hoped that would be enough. It seemed to work- the girl was back to asking Ogie who he thought gave him the coat.

“Jim?”

“I thought you might like to have it the next time you go on for Revere. That other guy’s coat is huge on you.”

“Thank you Jim!” The elf-man lunged to hug his friend.

“This tie is stunning Jane,” the lanky doctor said confidently.

“How’d you know it was me?” The silver queen was shocked. She didn’t think it was that obvious who she had. She certainly didn’t slip up and tell Jenna either.

“It’s silver.”

“Oh.” In all honesty, the blonde didn’t even realize she had bought a tie in the color that she had been assigned all those years ago. She was just drawn to it.

“Thank you.”

(Jim wore the tie to the second opening night for SiX on broadway many years later. Jane cried when she recognized the tie.)

“Aren’t you going to open your gift?” Cleves asked the third queen expectantly.

“Oh, I guess I just got so... wrapped up in watching everyone else open their gifts!” The punniest queen grinned.

“Just for that, you lose your turn. You go last,” Cleves retorted as she went to open her present.

“Well, I only know one woman who would buy me a designer athletic bag. Thank you Becky!” the red queen acknowledged the rowdy waitress.

“Yeah, yeah. Not a problem. I figured you might like to carry your things in it instead of that small little bag you have.”

“Thank you.”

(Anna of Cleves would use that bag until it ripped, and then she retired it so that she could keep it forever. Becky would be happy to buy her another bag when she needed it.)

“Cleves!” Becky gasped.

“What?”

“These shoes!”

“I’ve seen the shoes you guys wear while you’re waitressing. I read up on these shoes a lot. They’re supposedly really comfortable and they’re stunning. All leather.”

(Becky was more than happy to throw away the ratty pair of shoes she had been wearing since Jenna started working at Joe’s Diner all those years ago and replace them with the shoes Cleves had bought her. And when a new pair showed up at her house a few years later with a note that read: bitchin’ kicks! , well, Becky let out a full-on belly laugh.)

And that left Jane to open her present.

“Well, go on, open it hun,” Jenna encouraged her friend.

Jane was expecting some sort of artwork from the little girl who was no doubt her secret santa. What she wasn’t expecting was a handmade mug with the little girl’s thumbprints in the shape of a heart- under it reading “ Best Aunt”. At the sight of it, the blonde’s eyes welled with tears.

“Thank you Lulu,” she choked out.

“What is it?” Anne asked, curious as to what could elicit such a reaction from her costar.

“It’s a best aunt mug,” Jane whispered.

“Hey, I thought that was me! You little rascal!” both Anna and Becky exclaimed at the same time.

“D-do you like it Aunt Janey?” Lulu stood from her spot in her mother’s lap and resituated herself in the third queen’s, hugging her.

“I absolutely love it, and I love you. It’s perfect. Thank you so much honey.”

(Jane would never use another mug again, nor did she let anyone else in the house use it. It was her mug, and no one dared to touch it.)

After the gift exchange was over, the group settled in to watch a movie, more than happy to spend all of the time in the world together. The youngest member of the group hadn’t strayed from her surrogate aunt’s side, more than happy to snuggle into the warmth that the older woman radiated. It wasn’t long before she was snoring quietly in the arms of her favorite queen.

“You’re all more than welcome to stay the night if you want,” Catherine offered knowing how tired the bunch had become.

“As much as we’d love to,” Jim began before Jenna interrupted.

“It might be easier to have her just sleep here instead of trying to get her into the car and then into bed without her waking up.”

“That’s a fair point. But, all of the gifts are at our house babe.”

“Hey, it’s not a big deal if you guys stay, and it’s not a big deal if you don’t stay. We all know you’re all gonna end up here again in the morning anyway, so it’s totally up to you.” Anne waved a dismissive hand.

“We wouldn't want to impose,” Dawn muffled a yawn.

“We’ve got more than enough room between the living room and the basement, but it’s up to you,” Cathy mumbled, half asleep against Catherine.

“If you guys don’t mind,” Jenna smiled. The six queens all quickly reminded her that it was their idea. “Okay, so Santa’s presents are still at my house, so we’re gonna have to-”

“I’ll go with Jim and get it all together for you, don’t worry Jenna,” Ogie offered.

“I’ll go with them. They need a man to get this job done.” Cal stood and grabbed his coat, the other two men following suit.

“Alright girls, head to bed, Jenna and I can stay up for the boys.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Becky grumbled, picking herself up and heading towards the basement, pulling a half-asleep Dawn with her.

“Goodnight Janey,” the queens all stood and kissed the mother figure of the house on the cheek before retreating to their rooms.

“I better take Lu down-”

“You guys can stay in my room. I’m sure Annie won’t mind a bedmate for the night.”

“I can’t take your room from you.”

“You can. I insist. Lu isn’t going to sleep on one of the couches!”

“But it’s your room.”

“Okay, I do have that pullout in my room. I can sleep on there, and the three of you can have my bed.”

“I’m not taking your bed from you!”

“Well Lu surely isn’t sleeping on that pullout! Not the night before Santa’s coming!”

“Lu can stay with you then. Jim and I will take the couch.”

“But, you’re going to wake up sore.”

“So would you if you slept on it.”

“But you’re my guests.”

“We’re hardly guests at this point.”

“You don’t live here.”

“We might as well.”

“Just take my offer.”

“You’re sleeping in your own bed Seymour. Lu can stay with you, and Jim and I can take the pullout. That’s final,” the brunette turned on her mom voice.

“Damn Hunterson. No need to pull out the mom voice on me!”

“There is a need!”

“Okay, okay!” Jane laughed putting her hands up in mock surrender. “I suppose you win this round. Let’s get her to bed before the Santas arrive.”

The men arrived a while later, promising the two women who had stayed up that they could take care of setting out all the presents.

“Dawn and Becky are downstairs. There’s more than enough room for all of you to stay down there comfortably,” Jane informed them.

“Jane’s been kind enough to share her room with us for the night,” Jenna told her husband. “Lu’s gonna stay with her and we’re gonna stay on the pull-out. Hope that’s alright.”

Jim nodded before instructing the other men on where to put Lulu’s presents.

Although the two women had been told they were more than welcome to go to bed once Jim, Ogie, and Cal arrived back, they stayed and watched them diligently. Satisfied with the display that had the queens’ presents to each other (because of course they all got each other presents on top of their secret santa exchange) as well as the additional presents from the diner gang, everyone set out to bed.

Christmas Day had arrived, and at exactly 5:03 am, Jane Seymour was woken by a small child poking her cheek incessantly.

“Aunt Janey!” she whispered. “It’s Christmas. Do you think Santa came? Do you think Santa knowed I stayed here instead of at my own house?”

“Lu, it’s 5 in the morning. I don’t know if Santa came yet. Why don’t we give him a couple more hours to make sure he knows you’re here and not home?”

“This is like my home!” the little one whisper-shouted, melting the blonde’s heart.

“That’s so sweet of you to say hun. Why don’t we go back to sleep for a little bit though? It’s very early, and you know how your girls like their sleep.”

“Hmm,” Lulu thought this over for a second. “I guess you’re right. Good night Aunt Janey. Merry Christmas, and love you.”

“I love you too little Lu,” the blonde sighed as her surrogate niece snuggled into her side for a few more hours.

Opening presents was about as chaotic as anyone could guess in the house with thirteen people in it. After presents were done, Cal set out to make breakfast for everyone, muttering that if he couldn’t do that, what kind of cook would he be? It didn’t go unnoticed by the writer that he used his new spatula and apron as opposed to one of the spatulas in the queens’ house, the first and only time he ever used the kitchen tool.

“Hey Jenna?” Jane called from her place on the couch. The baker looked over at her friend inquisitively. “I have one more present for you.”

“What? You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Well, maybe it’s not for you, per se. It’s for the little one inside of you.” The third queen stood and walked towards the Christmas tree before almost magically producing one last present from under it.

Jenna opened the present with care and glanced at it before bursting into tears.

A simple onesie that said “ Heart of Gold, Green, Silver, Red, Pink, and Blue” .

“We thought it might be nice to give you for the new baby. We already love him or her so much.”

(When Olivia Pomatter arrived in the world, it was the first onesie the Hunterson-Pomatter duo put their new daughter in. Jane cried.)

[mamashitty]

I don't want to sleep in case you have to call

My fic for @jackzimmermannturns30! It has been a bit since I last wrote some Zimbits, so I feel a little rusty. Hope y’all enjoy it! 

Fic: I don't want to sleep in case you have to call Relationship: Eric “Bitty” Bittle/Jack Zimmermann Rating: General Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Summary: Jack had had sleepovers growing up. He had pointed that out to Shitty when his friend suggested this one. He had billeted with families in the past and he had lived in a frat house with Shitty for years! But Shitty had pointed out that living with other families, and then living in the hockey haus did not count.

“Brah, you are supposed to wear masks like this during a sleepover!” Shitty explained as he slathered more goo on his face, mustache and all. Jack tried to prevent the grin that was slowly crossing his face as he took in the sight of his friend, a friend whose face was now completely covered in goo, and failed miserably. Shitty held the container that held the goo out towards Jack, and from what Jack could tell from beneath all that green gunk, there was a pout and puppy dog eyes aimed at him.

“Fine! Okay! But, remember this sleepover is for my birthday, Shits. Don’t I get any say in what we do?” Jack asked, reaching for the container that held the gunk. Shitty gently smacked his hand away.

“Allow me to do the honors, beautiful birthday boy. And yes, you do get some say. But you have never had a proper fucking sleepover before. We are going to do this right. Pillow fight included,” Shitty explained, and then he began to slather green stuff on Jack’s face, and it was cool to the touch and smelled better than it looked.

Jack had had sleepovers growing up. He had pointed that out to Shitty when his friend suggested this one. He had billeted with families in the past and he had lived in a frat house with Shitty for years! But Shitty had pointed out that living with other families, and then living in the hockey haus did not count.

Jack also had to admit that he had missed sleeping with Shitty in the room nearest him. He missed waking up to find a hungover and mostly naked Shitty spooning him. They had both graduated back in May, and Jack had not fought too hard when Shitty suggested the sleepover. It would be a small thing. Just Shitty, Lardo, and one of Lardo’s new friends. Jack could do this.

You only turn 25 once, right?

“How long do we keep this stuff on for, Shitty?” Jack asked once Shitty finished and sat back.

“Like twenty or so minutes, brah,” Shitty said, and he wandered into Jack’s kitchen to set the timer on the oven.

Jack had been about to say something when his door opened and in walked Lardo, juggling what looked like a box of art supplies. Following closely behind her was a blonde man in the shortest pair of red shorts that Jack had ever seen. He quickly tore his gaze away from the man’s thighs, hoping no one noticed. Lardo was busy with her box of art supplies and calling for Shitty. The man with the shorts, Jack now noticed had a few pie containers in his hands.

“Lardo! Bitty!” Shitty exclaimed as he bounded out of the kitchen and instantly helped Lardo with her burden. Jack, realizing he ought to do something, moved to help the blonde man.

“Oh! You must be the birthday boy,” the man said as Jack took a pie from him. His voice was sweet like honey with a southern accent.

Suddenly, Jack was grateful for the green goo on his face. It definitely helped hide the red that blossomed on his cheeks.

“Euh, yeah. I’m Jack,” Jack introduced himself and awkwardly stuck a hand out.

“Eric, but most people call me Bitty.” He said, taking his hand. Jack felt some callouses as they shook hands.

“Bitty bakes the best fucking pies in the universe, Jack.” Shitty gushed.

“Oh,” Jack said, feeling dumbstruck.

---

It was midnight and Jack’s phone vibrated on his bedside table. He found himself grinning as he reached over to grab his phone. He knew who it was before he even looked at his phone.

Bitty: Happy birthday, Jack! :) :)

Jack: Thanks, Bits.

Bitty: I’m really bummed that I can’t make it tomorrow :(

Jack: It’s okay. You can miss one sleepover. Shitty won’t cry too hard about it.

Bitty: But you only turn thirty once! And our friendship only turns five once.

Jack: I know, and we will make it up. You can’t miss this opportunity, Bittle. Speaking of which, you should get to bed.

Jack: Put away whatever pie you are baking and get some sleep.

Bitty: I just wanted to be the first to wish you a happy birthday!

Bitty: And my pie is almost done.

Jack: You were the first.

Jack: Promise me you will get to sleep soon?

Bitty: I promise.

Jack: Goodnight, bud.

Bitty: Night! :)

If Jack reread that brief exchange of messages a few times, with a smile on his face, it really meant nothing. Over the past five years, Bitty had become one of Jack’s best friends. Only rivaled by Shitty and Lardo. Sure, he was disappointed that Bitty had to miss the sleepover tomorrow night but he knew they could celebrate together another day. Opportunities like the one Bitty had tomorrow did not come by very often.

Jack’s heart ached a little at missing his friend, but he was used to that ache when it came to Bittle.

With a sigh, he set his phone back down on the table, and then closed his eyes to get some sleep.

----

Jack’s face, clean of green goo, was now being pummelled with pillows from all sides. Shitty had suggested they start the pillow fight in Jack’s room, preferably on his bed, but Jack had put his foot down. Instead, they were in his living room, anything that could be broken had been safely placed out of pillow-thwapping distance.

Except for Jack’s face. That apparently was fair game.

Shitty had shed most of his clothes save for his boxers by this point. Everyone else was in pajamas and Jack really tried not to notice the shorts to Eric’s pajamas. Noticing that was what had led to his being hit by three different pillows at the same time.

He broke away from the fray and managed to whap Shitty upside the head.

“PENALTY SHOT!” Shitty shouted and Jack hoped his neighbors would not complain about the noise level.

“You just hit me in the head!” Jack pointed out.

“Yeah, well--...” but whatever Shitty was about to say was cut short by the sound of music playing loudly from Bitty’s phone. Bitty let out an excited little squeak, and dropped his pillow before scampering to pick up his phone.

“It is John, let me take this.” His cheeks were flushed and Jack wondered if it was from the exertion of the pillow fight or the man calling him. He watched as Eric walked down the hall towards the guest room.

“Who is John?” Jack asked just as Lardo hit him in the back of the head with a pillow.

“His boyfriend. They are long-distance,” Lardo explained, and then she was squealing as Shitty tackled her onto the couch.

“PENALTY!” She shouted while Jack tried to ignore the feeling of disappointment in his gut over Eric having a boyfriend.

---

“I can’t move,” Shitty groaned as he threw himself bodily onto Jack and the couch. Jack grunted but made no effort to shove the mustachioed man off of him. He missed Shitty cuddles. Adulthood was a strange beast. Hockey season always kept Jack busy and even in the off-season he had a lot going on with events and staying in shape. Shitty was busy and being a lawyer meant he had no real off-season.

“Aw, my heart.” Lardo had her phone out and Jack knew she was snapping a picture. “Bitty will love this.”

“I miss Bitty,” Shitty said, hugging Jack even tighter.

“Didn’t you just see him the other day?” Jack teased, even though he himself missed Bitty too.

Ever since his twenty-fifth birthday, it had become a thing for Bitty, Lardo, and Shitty to sleepover at Jack’s apartment on his birthday night. They would eat too much food, have pillow fights, try new facial masks, and fall asleep to bad horror movies. They always made time for it, and Jack really was disappointed that Bitty had had the out of town gig. But, they had managed to do this four years in a row without anyone missing, it was a good record, especially for busy adults. They could start afresh next year.

Jack disentangled himself from Shitty’s embrace to make room for Lardo, but she surprised him by plopping down on the chair nearest the couch. She raised an eyebrow at him.

“I get Shits cuddles all the time. Enjoy,” she said, with a shrug.

“Jaaaaaack come back to me,” Shitty whined, and Jack rolled his eyes before settling back into a more comfortable position with his best friend. Lardo had the remote and she began flipping through the channels.

“Have you heard from Bitty yet?” Jack asked as he lazily began to play with Shitty’s hair. He was pretty sure that he heard a purr come from his friend. He also idly wondered what product Shitty was using in his hair these days. It felt nice.

“Nothing,” Lardo and Shits said at the same time.

“You both are getting too insync with one another,” Jack pointed out with a laugh.  

He tried not to worry too much about no one hearing from Eric most of the evening. He was probably exhausted after his day at work. He was just used to receiving more text messages from him. It was part of their routine. Eric sending him messages when he should be working, and Jack chirping him about it. He could feel that familiar ache in his heart when he thought of his friend.

Jack had always had something of a crush on the blonde from the first moment he saw him. Sometimes, Jack felt like the feelings he had for Eric were returned. But, they were a bit like ships passing in the night. One of them always seemed to have a partner. Jack had been single for over a year by this point, his last breakup happening just before his twenty-ninth birthday and Eric had been single for about six or so months. And Jack… well, he felt like their chirping these days was borderline more flirting than anything else.

And some large part of him had been hoping that he would be on this couch with Bitty tonight instead of Shitty, no offense. But, alas, it was not meant to be this year and Jack knew he had to get his head out of his ass. And focus on enjoying the time he had with Lardo and Shits. It was still special and maybe confessing his feelings towards Eric would be better done on a different day.

Lardo had finally settled on a movie and it was not long before Jack heard Shitty snoring.

----

It was quiet. Lardo and Shitty had fallen asleep curled up around each other on the couch. Jack had looked over at Eric, and through some silent agreement, they both stood up and went out to Jack’s balcony. The humidity from the day had died down some, and it was not so stifling hot out. Eric was seated on a chair across from Jack, nursing a cold glass of water.

“How did you meet Lardo?” Jack asked, his voice sounding almost too loud in the quiet air.

“We met at my job, actually. I work at the bakery near Samwell. I go to Samwell,” Eric said, looking a little shy all of a sudden. “I actually tried out for your hockey team, but didn’t make it. I was not sure how I was going to pay for Samwell because out of state tuition is expensive, but Mama, Coach, and Moomaw surprised me and scraped together what money they could. Loans are helping out of course, and my job…”

Eric continued to talk and Jack found himself wondering how nice it might have been if Eric had been on the hockey team. He looked like he might be speedy on the ice. He also looked like he kept in shape still, and Jack wondered about his workout routine for a moment. Wondered too about his diet given the fact he worked at a bakery and seemed to enjoy baking pies on his free time as well (and his pie really had been the fucking best in the universe).

“It’s a bummer you didn’t make the team,” Jack blurted out once Eric had finished talking.

Even in the dark Jack thought he could make out a flush on Eric’s cheeks, or maybe he was just reading embarrassment in the other man’s body language.

“Oh well, aren’t you sweet?  No, it is probably for the best that I didn’t make it. I’ve seen some of your games, and Lord do you boys hit hard. I’m not the greatest with contact.” Eric said, waving his hand. “But, I did find a rec league, so I do get some ice time still.”

A rec league?  Then maybe there was still a chance that Jack could see Eric playing hockey after all.

“Tell me about your team?” Jack asked, and Eric looked at him.

“Are you sure? It might get boring for you.”

“No, tell me. Please?” Jack said, and he found himself attempting to give puppy dog eyes like Shitty had done on him earlier. Eric laughed, and it sounded like music to Jack’s ears. He had to remind himself not to get so gone on the other man. He had to remember the name John was attached to a real person and that person was attached to Eric.

Eric filled the silent night with stories of his hockey team, and his co-workers from the bakery. Jack surprised himself by readily filling in any gaps in Eric’s talking with stories of his own. He could not remember the last time feeling so comfortable when meeting a new person. He enjoyed the way their conversation flowed, and how yes, silences did happen but they never felt uncomfortable. Jack never felt like the silences were just because he could not figure out how to talk. Words came to him easily, even though he did prefer it when Eric was doing the talking.

He surprised himself even further by asking Eric for his number.

It sounded like the boy would need help with French in the upcoming semester and it would have been rude of Jack to not offer his help.

---

Jack could not sleep. As was tradition, Lardo and Shitty had fallen asleep during the movie. Jack had disentangled himself from Shitty’s grip. He had then found a couple of spare blankets to cover his friends up. He left the television volume down low and made his way towards the kitchen. The stove clock read that it was a quarter to midnight. His birthday was almost over. Jack reached for his phone and frowned when he saw no messages from Bitty.

It was unusual for Bitty to go this long without texting. Jack had just opened up their messages when he heard his door opening. He did not feel panicked, though his heart had begun to race, he felt excited. His feet carried him towards the entryway.

And there was Bitty, trying to close the door as quietly as possible.

“Bits,” Jack said, quietly. Though he really doubted their friends would wake up even if he had spoken louder. His lips quirked into an amused smile when he saw Bitty jump. Startled, most likely, from the sound of his voice.

“Lord, Jack! You scared me. You need a damn bell. You move too quiet for a lug your size.” There was a softness to Eric’s voice, and his face, as he spoke.

Silence lapsed between the two of them as they just stared at each other for a few seconds and then Jack found himself breaking it.

“What are you doing here?”

“Well, I finished earlier than I thought I would, so I decided to head here to see if I could make it to the sleepover. Seems like I missed all the action though,” but Bitty did not sound too upset at finding Shitty and Lardo asleep.

“I am glad you made it,” Jack said, softly. Then he reached for Eric’s hand, and Eric took it. He led Eric through the living room and out to the balcony. It was not the first time that they had held hands like this. It was not often they did, but sometimes, leading one another through crowds of people, it made sense to hold hands. Not that there was a crowd of people in his living room or anything, but Eric had not seemed to mind.

“This is just like the night we first met,” Eric said, once they were outside.

“Everyone asleep but us two, eh?”

“Out on the balcony,” Eric said, and he looked distracted. Like he had something on his mind. Jack noticed they had not let go of each other’s hands yet, and he gave Eric’s hand a gentle squeeze.

“What’s wrong, bud?”

“Trying to build up the courage to do something,” Bitty said, looking up at Jack but not quite making eye contact.

“Do what?” Jack asked. He wondered if he asked too quietly because Bitty said nothing, just continued to look at Jack.

“Happy Birthday, Jack. You’re my best friend in the world.” And then Bitty was closing the distance between them and Jack found himself moving without really thinking. Call it an instinct or something. They seemed to meet about halfway, and then they were kissing. Soft and sweet. Jack’s eyes fluttered close.

Then Eric was pulling away much too quickly and Jack found himself following those lips with a pout.

“Been wanting to do that for some time now,” Bitty said, with a breathy laugh. He was smiling, though. Looking happier than Jack had seen him in awhile.

Jack had a smile on his own face, he could feel it. He could also still feel the ghost of that first sweet kiss.

“I’ve been wanting to do that since I first saw you,” Jack admitted. “You had on really short shorts.”

“Jack!” Bitty looked shocked, “did you really?”

“I did,” Jack said, nodding his head to emphasize the point. Then he gently tugged Eric against him for another kiss. This one a bit longer. When they broke apart from each other, they did not pull away too far.

“Boy am I glad you wanted me kissing you,” Bitty said, laughing again.

“Want to head inside before Shitty and Lardo wake up?” Jack asked, not that he minded kissing Bitty on the balcony. His bedroom seemed more comfortable though, and they would have a door to close that was not all glass. They could talk and kiss some more.

“Too late,” Bitty said, with a tiny groan as he pointed over Jack’s shoulder. Jack turned around to see Shitty and Lardo with their faces pressed against the glass of the door. Shitty was giving them thumbs up and cheering now that he had their attention. Lardo gave a thumbs up too, before she began to drag Shitty away from the window.

“Let’s give Lardo five minutes to get Shitty into bed and then we’ll go inside,” Jack suggested.

“Sounds like a plan, and I think I know what we can do for those five minutes.”

Bitty then crowded into Jack’s space and Jack had no complaints about that as they kissed once more.

[captainjimothycarter]

Steve & Peggy are close childhood friends that reunite in college incidentally. They briefly recognize each other when they happen to walk by each other on the way to class, but can’t stop to catch up, and they have to find each other later.

Steve & Peggy are close childhood friends that reunite in college incidentally. They briefly recognize each other when they happen to walk by each other on the way to class, but can’t stop to catch up, and they have to find each other later.

 Oh, this is just so soft. I am so sorry, it’s so long.

--

“Are you an idiot or something?”

The posh, British tone makes steve look up from where he’s doing a pretty good impression of an Ostrich, his face coated in red dirt and blood. She could see tracks in his skin from where his tears had ran.

“No,” he grumbled, pushing himself to sit up and spitting blood out of his mouth. “Dunno why you’re asking me that. Who are you?”

“Someone that just kicked their butts.” Her thumb jerks over to Steve’s neighborhood bullies stumbling out of the abandoned lot. Even with his bad vision, he could see how Percy was limping and the welt rising on the back of Jeffory’s neck.

“I didn’t ask for you to save me, I had it handled!”

“Clearly.” Her tone and eye roll said otherwise. “You had them by the ends of their britches if you ask me. They were gonna kill you or worst. You’re lucky I spotted them.” Her hand held out and without asking for permission, jerking him to his feet. She’s taller than him, not by much, just two inches. He’s a small thing that looks like he’s gotten accustomed to his face meeting the ground a few times. He defiantly doesn’t know how to defend himself given how he was curled up when those three boys were surrounding him.

Typical brutes.

Steve frowned as he found his way to his feet, ruffling the dirt out of his hair. He was still watching her, confused. She wasn’t from around here, he’s never heard her voice before. He’d remember her accent. It was pretty, like Miss Ramous’. She wore posh clothes too, a pretty pink dress that was now stained with dirt and blood – his blood. Her white knee-high socks were just as stained. The only thing old on her was her tennis shoes.

“Steve Rogers,” he finally muttered, holding his hand out to her. “Thank you.”

“Margaret Carter.” She said her name with pride, showing her white teeth as she smiled and they shook hands. “I just moved here with my mum and brother. I think we’re next-door neighbors in the apartments? I’ve seen you around the complex. You helped Michael.” She paused and started to fuss over his torn shirt. “Do those boys do that often?”

“Do what? Gang up on me?” His one-shoulder shrugged, she noted it was too painful for him to lift the other one. “Sometimes. Normally. Yeah. I fight back but they always gang up on me. I don’t like bullies and if I don’t stand up to them, no one will. They were hurting a cat! That cat didn’t do anything.”

Peggy’s eyes landed on a burlap sack, now empty. She’d seen a streak of orange when she pulled up on her bicycle, having heard Steve’s yelps echoing down the alleyway.

“You’re pretty brave. Stupid, but brave. I’ll teach you how to fight.” She paused, waited for him to scoff like all the other boys did for being a girl, and knowing how to fight. When it didn’t come, her face pinched slightly. “You’re not gonna laugh?”

“Why would I laugh? You said you were gonna teach me how to fight. What? Cause you’re a girl.” Steve shrugged again and his face pinched. “My ma is a girl and she’s the bravest person I know.”

“You know…” Peggy sighed, picking up Steve’s good arm and throwing it over her shoulder to support most of his weight out of the alleyway, “You’re not so much of an idiot after all. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

--

“ Margaret Carter!”

Even Steve had to flinch from the shrill of a woman who looked like Peggy’s voice. She had Peggy’s pretty eyes and curls but her features looked almost sour as she dragged her daughter away from him and left someone with sandy blonde hair and limbered limbs to catch him.

“Mum, stop, I’m fine!” Peggy complained, trying to tug out of her arm. “I was helping, Stevie! He’s our neighbor and the boys in the neighborhood were hurting him!”

“You did what?!” She turned to round on Steve, who was just as confused as anyone. “How dare you involve my precious daughter in these ridiculous tomfoolery games of yours! You’ve ruined her dress and God knows what else!”

“Mother.” The guy holding Steve up looked older than Peggy but had the same kind eyes. Only Peggy’s mother had them but crueler. “Stop it. Peggy was helping a kid in trouble. I’ve seen those boys around the neighborhood. They’re no good and were hurting some poor innocent animal.”

At least someone was defending him because it seems he had lost his voice.

“I don’t care, Michael. Look at what they did to her dress! She has an interview in an hour and-“

“Mother, stop!” Peggy shrieked, stomping her foot and jerking away from her mom. She went back to Steve’s side and helped him stand back up. “Michael, let him go. I got him. Stop being mean. Steven needed my help and I helped him. It’s what dad would’ve done. You would let Micheal help him. I don’t even want to go to this boring, private school with uniforms and stuck up teachers.”

“No daughter of mine is going to some disgusting public school with filth like that!” She glared at Steve like he was a piece of dog turd that he’d thrown in Percy’s face earlier. “And of course I would’ve, no girl should be fighting. It’s unladylike. Now come on.” She went to jerk her again but Steve slapped her hand away.

“Will you stop it?” He snapped at her. “You’ve been nothing but mean to me since I’ve gotten here. You let the front door close in my face when I was helping my ma carry groceries, you locked me out of the laundry room, you turned off all the lights in the lobby when I was using them to read, and now you’re getting mad at me for what? Your daughter’s actions? I didn’t ask for her help. I’m grateful, but she helped me on her own. You should be proud of her! She stopped up to bullies.”

The woman’s face twisted as if she’d been forced to lick a lemon. The sound of the slap echoed through the small hall, leaving Steve to blink away tears.

“You will never touch me again, filth. Do you hear me? This is why I didn’t want to come to America, but your father insisted. Too much filth. Do you hear the language he uses? ‘Ma’. No proper English.” She jerked Peggy away with no warning, shoving her inside of the apartment and slamming the door in Steve and Michael’s face.

Michael was quiet, holding Steve’s shoulder a bit too tightly. “I’m sorry,” he whispered after a beat of silence. “She won’t hurt, Marge. She’s cruel but not in terms of…man handling. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Steve couldn’t say no as he was brought inside his own apartment, his ma at work. He was silent as the elder Carter cleaned him up, not even flinching when the alcohol stung the wounds. Michael spoke, he didn’t like silence it seemed. He told him about how their father owned a publishing company and was moving some of the branches to America to expand and how they were going to live here for some time now. And how their mum didn’t like it but Peggy was excited about the adventure.

He spoke lots about his little sister, said how scrappy she was. How she was born small and always fighting, just like how he was. How she was smart and knew two languages now. She was only a year younger than Steve but already reading at a college grade level like he was. He had taught Peggy to fight and their ma had gotten mad at her, not him for teaching her. Made Peggy promise some ridiculous thing about how she was never to be so unladylike.

Peggy, of course never kept that promise.

“Am I not allowed to be friends with her?” Steve asked, around a mouthful of grilled cheese that the elder brother had made for them. “I-I wanna be her friend. She’s nice to me.”

“If you ask my mother she’d say otherwise,” Michael scoffed, rolling his eyes. “But I’ll make it happen. She deserves friends her age and…like you. You’re the first person to make her smile in days.”

--

Someone cursed behind him when Steve stopped in the middle of a crowded hall to do a double-take, his hand clenching the coffee cup a little bit harder than before. No, this wasn’t right. There was no way this was right. Maybe it was the caffeine, maybe it was the lack of sleep because there was no way Peggy Carter could be back in America and most of all, in his very college.

His best friend, his childhood friend. Someone he loved and held dear and close to his heart, someone, who through the years of high school they’d lost contact with one another after Peggy’s father died and her mother became more overbearing especially when Michael took over the family company. Their last conversation sometimes still played in his head.

If that was her, now that he was doubting it, did she think about him as much as he thought about her? It was nearly five years ago they’d last talked and he still thought about her every other day. There were some friendships you didn’t let go of.

“Hey, Stevie?”

The blonde blinked and looked to Bucky, his new roommate, an arm thrown over his shoulder. “Sorry, I was…lost in thought.”

“What with that pretty girl? With the killer heels? She’s in my French class.”

“Yeah, swear I know her from somewhere.” He rubbed at his jawline as Bucky forced him to move, dragging him down the hallway. “You get her name?”

“Nah, I was late for the last couple of times. I can introduce you two though, just meet me after class tonight.”

--

She was so sure of every last decision she’s made in the five years.

Sure about leaving her abusive mother, sure about joining Michael to live in a cheap flat and continue her schoolwork until she graduated early, sure about taking over the company once she got her degree because Michael was not happy about this type of work while Peggy was. Sure about going back to college in America to run the company from there, because it’s the only time she’s felt happy.

She was sure about everything but one thing.

On if that was truly him.

Could it be? Sure, she was back in Brooklyn but there was no telling if Steve Rogers still lived here, if he even existed.

He’d once mentioned about traveling the world after high school, silly pipe dreams she encouraged because it made him so happy.

He looked so different – if it was him. Broader, muscular, fuller hair, and brighter eyes. Last she saw he was scrawny and lanky like he hasn’t grown into himself. He certainly has now – if this was him.

She should turn back, run back to him, ask, and risk herself the embarrassment but the crowd of people was already dragging her away and she couldn’t risk being late to class her first week.

Maybe she could attempt to see him again, stake out the halls.

God, she was being ridiculous. Angie would flip if she knew she was thinking about a boy.

--

“Peggy Carter?”

The voice droned on names so fast that Peggy almost missed hers, her hand shooting up to alert the teacher she was here before dropping her head back down to doodle in the corner of her book.

French. She was fluent in French, so she figured it was an easy A, if anything, but she didn’t expect the class to be so damn boring. The teacher taught everything wrong that if Peggy wasn’t fluent, she’d have to spend time unteaching herself, just to relearn again.

“Pst. Pst.”

Peggy glares in the direction of a brunette guy with silver eyes poking at her with the end of his pen. “And what do you want? I am not keen on having Miss Cat-Lady yell at us for talking.”

The guy laughs and rolls his eyes, throwing a look to the dubbed Cat-Lady whose having a difficult time doing something on her computer. “She treats us like we’re still freshmen in highschool. Anyway, it’s Peggy, right? I got someone who wants to meet you, stay here after class.”

Before Peggy could even ask who, the lights are dimmed and her attention is drawn to the PowerPoint on the board.

--

“Alright,” Peggy sighed when the brunette-James, she learned- stepped back inside the empty classroom, waving his hand at someone to stay still. “What’s all this about? I don’t like surprises much.”

“Oh, you’ll love this one.” He was all grins, he had a very boyish face and attitude that reminded her so much of her brother.

The very last Peggy ever thought to see was the blonde from before, coming through the door with a paint-stained sweater, blue paint drying on the tip of his nose, charcoal on his hands, and nervously holding a cup of coffee.

Her hand flew to her mouth, a few desks between them, unsure of how to get her legs to move. How to move from her spot to his.

This close, she knew in her heart it was him. She could see the kindness in those eyes. The soft scar along his jawline from where he fell off his bike. That boyish grin as the coffee cup dropped to the table and tables pushed out of the way as he scooped her up.

She should be furious that he’s ruining her clothes again, charcoal stains of handprints on white silk but she can’t be. She’s laughing as he spins her around, and they both pretend the other isn’t crying.

“Is it really you?” Peggy whispers, holding Steve’s face in her hands.

“Y-yes, Peggy, yes. I…” He didn’t know what to say. Instead, he acted on an impulse that he should’ve done in the first place.

He kissed her and Peggy sunk into him as she was placed on her feet, arms around his neck until they parted.

She laughed as they did so, her dress officially ruined. “You think I’d learn my lesson the first time we met.”

Steve cringed as he looked down at the front of her dress and at his now cleanish hands. “Your ma isn’t here to yell at me, is she?”

“Good Lord, no, Steven, no, but I am.” The smile on her face said otherwise as she took hold of his face again to kiss him. “I think it looks beautiful with the new handprints.”

A scoffing noise caused them both to look up, Steve’s face flushing as they both realized Bucky was still there. “You two,” he grumbled, downing the coffee and making a face, “are sickeningly cute. Steve, what the fuck is this coffee?”

Steve snorted into the arm of his sweater. “It’s not, Buck. It’s paint water I’m using for a project.”

[alipeeps]

New tag game: Post pictures of your first ever (fictional/celeb) crush to the latest one and tag five others to continue the game

Thanks to @minmoyu for tagging me and ooof, are you sure you’re ready for this?!! :D I have been around/in fandom for a loooooong time and at first I thought, okay, no way I can list all my crushes, there have been SO many and we’ll be here all day but then as I started compiling a list I found I was having fun reminiscing and decided, what the heck, yeah, let’s do em all... or at least all I can remember! :D

There have absolutely for sure been other more minor crushes and passing fancies along the way, but these are the big ones that I remember (and that, in more recent years, I can track by going through my posted fanfics on AO3 and even *shudder* FFNET and seeing which shows I was into enough to want to write fic about the characters).

[Quick note: with rare exceptions, for actors I am listing them by the character they played rather than just the actor. Whilst there are actors that I like in multiple roles (and conversely, characters who on paper I would normally be into but are played by actors who do nothing for me, and hence the character generally does nothing for me either), for the most part it is the character I really have the crush on.]

I’m going to put this under a readmore cos it has gotten ridiculously long:

So... without further ado:

1. MORTEN HARKET from a-ha - OKay so, dating myself badly here but... I had the *biggest* crush on Morten Harket when I was a teenager. Pretty much the entirety of my side of the bedroom I shared with my sister was covered in posters of a-ha, and Morten in particular. I even had a heart-shaped Morten Harket pillow! :D I loved a-ha’s music (still do!) and I wanted to go see them in concert when I was 14 but my parents wouldn’t let me (*sob*). I did finally get to see them in concert in the early 2000s and they were BRILLIANT live (and Morten was still very very pretty)! 

2. RICHARD DEAN ANDERSON as MACGYVER - MacGyver is the first tv character I remember being really into and having a crush on, to the extent that I would record episodes of the show off the tv (onto VHS tape - yes, I am *that* old!) so that I could rewatch them (especially the ones where he got hurt - yeah, I was a whumper even then! :D)

3. KEIFER SUTHERLAND - One of my rare exceptions. I think I first saw him in Lost Boys (and loved him in that film) but it was his role as Doc Scurlock in Young Guns that really made me fall for both the character and him. I definitely remember seeking out any and all films he was in and buying any magazine he was interviewed in (and knowing far more facts about him than was probably healthy! :D) and even drawing a fanart portrait of him. :)

4. KYLE MACLACHLAN as SPECIAL AGENT DALE COOPER - I remember hearing about Twin Peaks before it started airing in the UK and it sounded so different and interesting... I watched it from the very first episode and very quickly developed a crush on Coop.  

5. BRENT SPINER as DATA - I think ST: TNG had been airing for a while before I stumbled across it but I quickly became hooked and Data was my favourite character right from the start. I definitely remember at one point buying an (unofficial) episode guide book so that I could look up which episodes were good Data-focused ones (especially ones where he got hurt! :D) so I could go out and buy the videos that had those episodes on (at the time the show was available to buy on VHS-tape with 2 episodes on each tape).

6. DAVID DUCHOVNY as FOX MULDER - Another show that I heard the buzz about and started watching right from the start and, like so many others, I immediately developed a crush on the snarky, enigmatic, troubled FBI agent with the weird name. The X-Files was the first show I ever tried writing (one, never-finished) fanfic for.

7. PAUL GROSS as BENTON FRASER - Man, Due South was such a good show! It was so quirky and clever and funny and Benton Fraser, with his huge heart and his serious demeanour and his gorgeous blue eyes, was just so darn attractive! He also got whumped a fair bit too! :D Due South was also the show that introduced me to the music of Sarah McLachlan (I was enough of a fan that I bought the show soundtrack on CD).

8. HUGH LAURIE as DR GREGORY HOUSE - This was a bit of an odd one for me because I had grown up knowing Hugh Laurie solely as a comedian/comic actor, known mostly for playing buffoons and genial idiots. And suddenly here he was with stubble, an American accent, and a limp, and he was hawt AF! :D It caused quite the feedback loop in my brain for a while which pretty much went “Wow, House is hot.... but it’s Hugh Laurie... but he’s hot... but it’s HUGH LAURIE!!1!”

I *loved* House (the first few seasons, at least) and oof a character with persistent pain (and a self-destructive streak a mile wide!) was a whumper’s dream. House was the first show for which I wrote - and published online - completed fanfics.

8. JOE FLANIGAN as JOHN SHEPPARD - Stargate Atlantis was my first proper online fandom, the first show I prolifically and repeatedly wrote fanfic for, and the first time I ever met in person an actor I was a big fan of (and while the show was still airing, to boot!). It was also my first introduction to the online community of whumpers! A bunch of us from the Shep Whump thread on Gateworld heard that Joe was going to be at a convention in London and we decided to book hotel rooms and meet up and go to the convention together and it was AWESOME! I can still remember seeing Joe *in person* for the first time and just,,,, struggling to believe he was actually here, in person, in front of me! He was super super lovely and humble too and took time to chat to everyone at the signing table and I clearly remember my brain just pretty much fritzing out during the photo session and being intensely aware of the sensation of Joe’s hand on my shoulder....

It was also super lovely to meet fellow fans, and online friends, in person for the first time and we had so much fun, and it kickstarted me going to lots of other conventions, including specific Stargate/SGA ones where I got to know lots of other lovely fans and online friends. I’ve met Joe about 4 or 5 times in total now and he’s been lovely every time.

9. PAUL BLACKTHORNE as HARRY DRESDEN - Gosh I loved the shortlived tv adaptation of The Dresden Files. I loved the fantasy aspect, the stories, the humour, and I especially loved Harry Dresden and how often he got whumped! :D 

10. DAVID TENNANT as THE 10TH DOCTOR - I had watched the Christopher Ecclestone revival of Doctor Who and enjoyed it well enough but I can clearly remember watching David Tennant’s first episode as The Doctor - on Christmas Day, at my brother-in-law’s house - and being aware, as I watched it that... ooookay, yes, I’m in trouble here... I like him... I like him a lot... :D I mean, I’m sure the fact that he got whumped so thoroughly in his very first episode had nothing to do with how quickly I fell for him... right? :)

11. ALEX O’LAUGHLIN as MICK ST JOHN - Another show that ended far too soon and just as it was getting *seriously* good. But also a prime example of my point about having a crush on the character not the actor. I looooooved Alex as Mick St John... and yet in Hawaii 5.0 he pretty much does nothing for me (the character is too stoic and the whump often too unrealistically glossed over). Anyway, in Moonlight he was my favourite kind of character - angsty, brooding, dangerous AF when he needed to be... and essentially immortal so you could whump the heck out of him and he’d recover so you could whump him again! :D

12. SIMON BAKER as PATRICK JANE - There is so much to love about Patrick Jane... his smarts, his sass, his angst... and Simon is a rare “against type” blonde crush for me (you may have noticed by now that most of my crushes follow a similar physical aesthetic - tall, slim/wiry, and dark-haired) and again here I think my crush is almost all to do with the character rather than the actor.

12. BENEDICT CUMBERBATCH as SHERLOCK HOLMES - I’m almost ashamed to admit it, given the clusterfuck that both the show and its fandom became, but in the earlier seasons I had quite the crush on Benedict’s Sherlock (and okay, a little bit on Benedict himself - I did definitely enjoy some of his other roles too). It helps that I was already a huge fan of the Sherlock Holmes character (I’ve read all the stories and novels multiple times and was a big fan of the Granada adaptation starring Jeremy Brett - whose Holmes would definitely count as one of my more minor/passing crushes) already. Benedict is another crush that I have met in person, at a (actually, the first!) Sherlock convention and he was lovely in person - very genuine, very articulate and thoughtful.

13. TOM MISON as ICHABOD CRANE - I was excited for Sleepy Hollow as soon as I heard about it and I was SUCH a fan for the first couple of seasons (before TPTB completely destroyed it and it inevitably got cancelled (I didn’t even watch the last season and a half)) and Tom’s Ichabod (and his amazing chemistry with Nicole’s Abbie) was a large part of why. I also quickly became a big fan of Tom himself as he came across as so witty and self-deprecating and *fun* in all the behind the scenes/convention clips etc. I was lucky enough to also meet Tom at a convention and he genuinely is that witty and charming and lovely.

14. TOM WISDOM as ARCHANGEL MICHAEL - I think Dominion was possibly the first show that I got sucked into by seeing whumpy gifsets on tumblr! :D It was such a great show and also to date the most immersive, welcoming, cast-and-crew-interactive fandom I have ever been in. The cast and crew regularly live-tweeted the episodes, and interacted with fans on Twitter, and it was SO much fun. And Tom’s Michael was my favourite character right from the start - seemingly aloof but so much going on under the surface... and some really nice whump, especially in season 2! I was heartbroken when it was cancelled after only 2 seasons (and just as the plot was getting *really* interesting).

15. OLIVER JACKSON-COHEN as LUCAS - I was hooked on Emerald City right from the first episode. It was visually stunning, so atmospheric, and really intruiging. I love love loved Adria Arjona’s Dorothy (ngl, I had a bit of a crush on her too) and she and Lucas together were just... *chef’s kiss*. I mean... what an introduction to a character... she finds him crucified, bleeding, his wrists tied with barbed wire, and amnesiac.... and the whump only gets better and better from there on in! Like the entire first two episodes are just... Lucas whump! :D And his devotion to her... Emerald City was honestly the first show where I really got into a ship. I was *invested* in Dorcas, dammit! Aaaand sadly another excellent show that never made it past its first season.

16. JASON RALPH as QUENTIN COLDWATER - Another show that I watched right from the start, was heavily invested in.... and that the writers absolutely tanked and destroyed in later seasons. *cries* Quentin was such a brilliant viewpoint character for the show and I loved his awkwardness, and his angst, and his enthusiasm, and his adorable floppy hair... and how often he got whumped! 

17. COLIN MORGAN - I fell for Colin in Merlin (which I stumbled upon late, long after it had finished airing, and hence was able to binge-watch the entire 5 seasons!) and liked him enough to seek out his other works, such as The Fall, and Humans, and The Living and the Dead, and he was brilliant (and very pretty) in all of them... and his characters also seem to get whumped quite a lot! :D 

18. MATT LANTER as WYATT LOGAN - Wyatt was another of my favourite archetypes... absolutely badass and competent... but also tortured and angsty and capable of intense devotion. Another show that I watched because of whumpy gifs on tumblr and the second ever show where I actually got invested in a ship - Lyatt all the way, baby!! :D - aaaaaand yet another show cancelled before its time.

19. NOCTIS LUCIS CAELUM from FINAL FANTASY XV - my very first video game crush! I was recommended to play FFXV by fellow whumpers on the whumpshire discord because it was whumpy... and they were not wrong and I loved the game and I absolutely adored Noctis. FFXV is one of very very VERY few video games that I have actually played right through to the end. And possibly the only video game that has ever affected me to such an extent... I became so invested in the characters and their world and I actually found the last couple of chapters really hard to play because it was actually upsetting me emotionally. I had to take a break for a couple of weeks before I could go back and finish it!

20. CONNOR from DETROIT BECOME HUMAN - and from there I jumped straight into another video game crush! DBH was another game recommended to me for its whump potential and I, and many others, immediately fell in love with the quirky, sassy, self-sacrificing (if you play the game right!) “android sent by Cyberlife”. The game itself is really good too... although, I have tried to play through all the different endings to the story but have never yet managed to make myself play the machine Connor storyline.... I want to complete all the story branches... but I also just want Hank and Connor to be friends and to be happy! :D

21. ZHU YILONG - Ahhh... the beginning of the asian drama arc of my fandom life! I first came across Zhu Yilong after getting sucked into watching Guardian because of pretty (and whumpy) gifs on tumblr... and I’ve never looked back. He is one of the rare entries where I am pretty much guaranteed to like him in pretty much anything he does and my crush extends beyond Shen Wei, or his other characters, and into reblogging his fashion shoot photos, and keeping up with news of his work in general. He’s just... so darn pretty! And also so... blur! :D And the behind the scenes stuff and interviews of him with Bai Yu, during the Guardian era, just made me fall for him all the more. He’s also ridiculously talented - not only a fantastic actor, but a really good singer (I love his singing voice), he plays guitar and piano, and he can paint too!!

He’s also pretty much what made me start learning Chinese... because after Guardian I went seeking his other dramas to watch... only to find that many of them are only partially, or not at all, subbed. So I thought... why not try learning Chinese and then I’ll be able to watch his other shows? :D

21. JI CHANG WOOK - My first kdrama crush, and what a good one to start with! Healer was the first drama I ever watched and can you blame me for falling for JCW... especially when I followed up Healer with The K2?! I’ve liked him in pretty much everything I’ve watched him in. Although I do wish he would go back to doing more action-based shows as he is sooo good at them... but he seems to prefer the romcom genre these days, which is something I am nottt always a fan of tbh.

22. JAKE HSU as MENG SHAO FEI - Yet another show that I got sucked into by tumblr - and also one with a great, fun fandom through which I met lots of lovely people who I still follow/am mutuals with to this day. I just *adored* Jake’s character in History and I also loved the ship - Tang Fan and Meng Shaofei were awesome and adorable together and I was totally invested in both the ship and the gangster/cop/what happened years ago story happening alongside the ship. And Jake is just all kinds of cute.

23. XIAO ZHAN - Aaaand we are pretty much up to current day now... where The Untamed took over my life in the summer of 2019 and has yet to let me go. Xiao Zhan is another disgustingly talented human being - a fantastic singer and a really good actor, and also an artist - and he also just comes across as a genuinely sweet and charming person, and a very thoughful and earnest one too. And lbr he is ridiculously pretty, and his smile is just pure sunshine. 

24. LEE DONG WOOK as LEE YEON - The most recent entry to the charts.... a Korean actor I was aware of but whose work I hadn’t watched and whose looks didn’t particularly seem to grab me... until I watched Tale of the Nine Tailed and fell head over heels for Lee Yeon (and daaayum does red hair suit LDW!!) and very quickly began to find LDW’s looks very appealing (and oh my, does Lee Yeon whump well!!). And yes, I have now started watching Goblin. :D

Phew! Aaaand we are done! I’ll admit, I did think of a few more as I was compiling this list but I decided to categorise them as more “minor” crushes and not include them... otherwise we really could be here all day!!

I’m going to tag: @sarah-yyy​, @arlothia​, @howdydowdy​, @thepromiseweheldforlife​ and @the-wandering-whumper​!

[my-fan-side]

No.41 Having Little One wear their first formal wear. #Nessian

From this Prompt List: https://50-item-writing-prompts.tumblr.com/

Having Parties and Balls are not uncommon in the Night Court, especially in Velaris. Almost every Solstice and Equinox are celebrated with one, of course, among other Traditional festivities that the court was observing. Tonight, they will be celebrating the Winter Solstice and the High Lady of the Night’s Birthday. Nesta was setting up her little girl’s dress in the bed, as Cassian comes out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around their little warrior squirming in his arms. Their little three-year-old Illyrian daughter, Adella, with the dark wavy hair she got from her father and the grey-blue stormy eyes from her mother, was so full of energy despite being woken up from her afternoon nap. It was a fun filled morning for all the kids, building a snowman, making angel wings, and having a snow ball fight with her cousins. She’s so excited because she knows she’ll be wearing a beautiful gown for the party, just like the ones the princesses wears on the stories her mother read to her.

“Alright love, settle down. Mama will dress you up on the princess gown now.”  Cassian settled her daughter down by chair in front of the vanity table so Nesta can take over dressing her up. He kissed his child on her temple, while trying to wipe the towel over her body to dry her.

“Give her to me. Go and get ready yourself.” Nesta approached the father and daughter and took the towel from Cassian and set it aside, then took her daughter by the bed. Cassian can’t seem to take the smile off of his face from being amused to her daughter’s giggling and excitement. He then takes a good look at her mate, running her eyes across her body from head to toe. She’s still wearing a white bathrobe, but her hair is already fixed in her usual braided crown, and she already have a makeup on, not much, just that of what she usually wears.

“Well, not that I’m complaining, but you seem to be a little underdressed sweetheart.” Cassian smirks at his mate, wrapped her arms around her from behind as he nozzles on the side of her neck.

Nesta rolled her eyes and push her mate teasingly. “I’ll put my dress on, once I’m done with this one.” She took a hold of her daughter’s face, squeeze it gently and give her an eskimo kiss, which made the little girl snicker more. “It’s not going to take much time getting it on, we’ll both be ready when you’re done.”

“Okay, okay. I won’t take long.” Cassian said as he backed away slowly towards the bathroom.

“Right….! With your hair care ritual, we’ll probably be late to the party.” Nesta snorted.

“Ugh, you wound we sweetheart!” Cassian yelled humorously behind their bathroom door.

---

Adella is now dressed in her crimson red sleeveless ball gown, it has a bow at the waist level in the back. It is a V-cut backless, to give way to her growing wings. The dress is simple in style but the embroidered lace with sparkling glitters on the fabric made it look magical. Thus, with the matching red crown that now adorned her hair, that is braided just like her mothers’, the little girl twirls around her parent’s room feeling like a princess.

Meanwhile, Nesta watched her daughter adoringly and full of love through the vanity mirror as she put on her earrings.

“Papa! Papa! Look at me! Ella ish a Pwincess!” Adella run towards her father who is entering the room hiding something behind his back. Cassian looks so prim in proper with his black suit paired with a silk button down shirt in red, it seamlessly matches the color of Nesta and Adella’s attire.

“Maybe. But I think there’s one more thing that you need to become a real princess? Hmmm?” Adella look at her father confusedly. Not sure if she should be mad because he doesn’t agree that she is a princess. Or curious, on what does she still need to be one?

“And whash that, Papa?” In the end it was a mix of both, she put her small hands in her waist and glares at her father who is already kneeling down in front of her so they’ll be at eye level.

That look his little girl is giving him reminds him so much of Nesta, Cassian couldn’t help but burst out laughing.  “Well, my love, a princess has to have a shoe to dance with, right?”

Adella’s eyes widen at this, then she raised her skirt and looked at her bare foot. She looks back up at her father again with a tilt of a head, and then suddenly run to her mother side.

“Mama! My Shoe pwease!” Raising both arms with palms up towards her mother, so sure of herself that her mother will give her what she needs.

Nesta chuckles, pick up her daughter and settle her on her hip. “And what makes you so sure I’ve got your shoes?” She teased her daughter as she rubs her nose to the other. Adella laughs at her mother’s act, then framed Nesta’s face with both of her tiny hands.

“Then where’s my shoe?” the little girl asked with a frown. She’s so serious looking it’s so adorable.

Cassian then made a coughing sound that made his two favorite girls look at him. “Well, who else my love but yours truly!” He then kneels on one knee, and bow his head as he raises the shoe box towards them.

Nesta and Adella chuckles at Cassian’s antics. Nesta then puts her little girl on the bedside as Cassian approached them. He then presents the box to his little girl who can’t seem to make herself sit still. Slowly, he took off the cover of the box revealing a glittery doll shoes that matched the color of her dress perfectly. Adella’s eyes widen in awe as she saw the shoes and shrieked in anticipation. Her hands are clapping and her wings are fluttering energetically. Nesta sits down then beside her daughter, smile still plastered on her face.

After putting her shoes, Cassian stood up and kissed his daughter’s forehead. “Perfect! Now, you’re definitely a princess!” Adella looked at her feet wiggle it once, twice. Then jumps of the bed and twirls around the room, giggling and laughing, her parents laughed with her.

“Okay, okay. Everyone’s ready? Let’s go now! We don’t want to be late to the party.” Nesta then stood up and straightened up her dress before taking her daughters hand and lead the way out of their bedroom. She’s wearing a crimson mermaid cut dress, with embroidered lace and sparkling accents design, it is exactly the same fabric used on her daughter’s dress. The cut of the dress highlights her hourglass shaped figure. It has a square cut neckline that displays her perfect collarbones and ample chest. The sleeves are sheer, glistening and long as it reaches her wrist.

But before she got of their bedroom, Cassian reaches out to her elbow, pull her to his chest, and kissed her on the lips gently. “Have I told you already how stunningly beautiful you look tonight?” He whispered to her ear, his voice deep, like he was growling. It sent shivers down Nesta’s skin that made her gasped softly. She chuckles and step back a little and look at his mate’s eyes. There was love in there, in sincerity, and a little bit of lust if she’s not mistaken.

“You did. Two or three times, I believe. Now, pull yourself together, and kindly pick up the gifts for every one please. We still got a party to attend to.”  She’s still chuckling as she walks out of his reach, still holding on to their daughter’s hands as they continue to walk out of their house.

---

It was Adella’s first formal event to attend to. On the year she was born, she was just a few weeks old on winter solstice, she was carried by Nesta and is present at the party for a little while, but of course she can’t really dress up at that time, & she wouldn’t even be aware of it. Other festivities after that was celebrated but not as a Ball, not like this one. So, this year, Adella was very eager to attend the party, and her parents made sure that it will be a memorable night for her. The moment the little girl found out that on her auntie’s birthday, they would have to wear big and beautiful gowns, she keeps asking her mother about what she would wear. There was never a day since then that she fails to ask if that day is the day of the ball.

When they arrived at the Ball, almost every one was already in there. Mor was immediately on Adella’s side, gushing on how beautiful the little girl looks. Mor wouldn’t admit it, but among the three Illyrian kids in their family, Adella is her favorite. It’s not that she doesn’t enjoy playing with Rhysand and Azriel’s little boys, they’re very much energetic and literally took the breath out of her when they all play Hide and Seek. But with the little girl, she can play dress and make up, and that’s more her kind of game.

“Look at you! Aww you’re so cute and pretty!” She twirls the little girl admiring her outfit, squeezed her face and give her a kiss on the cheek.

“Auntie Mor! I’ve got pwincess dwess! Ella is a pwincess!” Adella’s shows off her dress to Mor with that charming grin just like his father. Mor can’t help but smile wider.

“Oh of course you are!” She gave the little girl a kiss on the forehead and look up to Nesta and Cassian, who have that same grin on her daughter. “She is sooo cute!” The little girl’s parents just laughed at their friend amusingly.

The rest of the Inner Circle pretty much did the same thing to the little girl. Well except Amren, who just says “Thank the Mother for Nesta’s genes, or she won’t be that adorable.” Cassian frowns and pouts at this while Nesta whispered to his ear “She’s got your strong wingspan and your raven hair. I love your wingspan and hair.” As she caressed his man-bun and then his talon making sure he understands what she meant. And oh he did, because that pout was wiped off of his face and was immediately replaced by a smug grin.

The night was filled with so much laughter and giggling. They all sang “Happy Birthday” for the High Lady of the Night. There were wines and vodkas for the adults, and sweet juices for the kids. Gifts were received and given. There were lots of teasing, and even reminiscing. But of course, the night wouldn’t be complete without some dancing.

---

“May I have your first dance, my princess?” Cassian made a curt bow in front of his daughter, offering his hands to her. Adella’s eyes grew wide and her mouth formed an “O” in awe.

“Yesh! Yesh! Yesh!” then she happily grabbed his father’s hand and practically dragged him on the dance floor.

Nesta adoringly look at her mate and daughter dance. They are beautiful and they are hers. And she thanks the Mother every day for bringing these two people in her life.

After a while, she caught Cassian’s eye. He stopped twirling his daughter and spread his arms towards his mate, an invite to join them at the dance floor. Nesta didn’t even hesitate. She went straight to Cassian’s arms, then he pulls up their daughter to his other arm and place her on his hips. He tugs both of them closer to him, and dance with the two female he loved most.